FREEDOM, COMMUNISM, DISTURBANCE, AND PANDORA

You still remember the story of the lovers of pleasure who sought the Messiah in scenes of earthly enjoyment?
If not, let me remind you:
Forgotten Victorian author Margaret Gatty wrote a series of "Parables from Nature", that is, moral and religious stories based upon natural phenomena.

One of them, "The Deliverer", set before the birth of Christ, tells of humankind's hope for a messianic redeemer. While most people expect a royal palace to be his birthplace and courtiers or royals for parents, "the lovers of pleasure hoped for a Deliverer in scenes of earthly enjoyment":

The conquering spoken of is but the overcoming of all wish for strife; the rule in store, the sovereignty of love, suppressing all desires but that for universal joy.

Ah! surely, when the Deliverer came it would be to make all people happy alike, and pour a healing balsam into every wound! Then would all the old griefs be buried and forgotten, and the soothed minds of the contented trouble themselves no more with struggle.

Oh for the dawning of that morn when the world should resound once more to the songs of rejoicing which gladdened the golden age! Had not the Sybils so spoken, and had not the Poet so sung? Then should everyone sit under his own vine and his fig-tree, and poor and rich alike cease from the land, for all should be equal and all happy.

"But whence should such a Deliverer be looked for—where be expected to arise?—Ah! surely only in some happy spot of Nature, some valley peaceful and beautiful as that of Cashmere, among a race of pastoral simplicity; in some perfect household, where disturbance was never known, and one mind prevailed. Thence alone could come He who would cause the cruel swords of war to be turned into ploughshares, and spears into reapinghooks, and animate and inanimate Nature to join in one general song of joy.

So these looked to the lovely valleys and the quiet nooks of Nature for the magic spot where discord had never entered. But they, too, looked and waited in vain—yet looked and waited on as before, and called upon Nature herself to confirm their hopes."

They looked and waited in vain because the Lord "had chosen base things of the world, and things which are despised, that no flesh should glory in His presence." And the Earth remained in suffering and oppression because "not many wise men after the flesh" are called by the Lord. That's why, according to Mrs. Gatty, Jesus was born in midwinter:

"Thus, thus, thus—while Nature lay torpid and hopeless, and half the world was winter-wrapt in snow. Thus, thus, thus—with healing on His wings, but not the healing they sought for: not a deliverance from death or sorrow, not a freedom from toil or pain, not even a ransom from temptation and sin." And, to add more fuel to the fire, the village inn where he was born and near which his carpenter father came from was located in a warzone (something Gatty never came to mention!).

Mrs. Gatty was a devout Christian, while I am a pacifist, an epicurean (i.e., a "lover of pleasure"), and a freethinker. The idea of "the magic spot where discord had never entered", so dismissed by the author's realism and spirituality simultaneously, is tantalizing to people like me in spite of its lacking foundation; for the problem of pain was and is a riddle without an answer.

Remember Leibniz, the baroque courtier? He clearly told physical evil from moral evil. The "sorrow" and "pain" mentioned in Gatty's excerpt refer, clearly, to moral evil: "strife", "struggle", "disturbance", "the cruel swords of war", "discord". These words refer to conflict between humans, not to pain caused by the laws of Nature (illness/injury).
As a teenager, I wondered why we humans are able to do wrong: to untie knots of love,  to declare wars, and to persecute outsiders. I asked my wise and well-spoken Philosophy teacher (who currently resides in Stockholm, and whose wife I met in the Swedish capital a month ago) the question. He replied: "Because we wouldn't be free if we could only do good."
Free will is both a blessing and a curse. If we are free to do wrong, we can do wrong. But if we only can do good, we are not free. Now, what is good actually? There lies the quid of the question!
Let's say, like Gatty's lovers of pleasure, that earthly enjoyment/happiness/joy/pleasure is good/right, while disturbance/discord/warfare is bad/wrong. The snag is: we humans are too self-centered and stubborn for "the magic spot where discord had never entered" to be a reality.
There have been attempts at recreating "the magic spot" in vivo, the most remarkable (nation-level, in several countries!) being Karl Marx's egalitarian and classless nationwide Dictatorship of the Proletariat. It still survives in some military governments of the present day. The Marxist doctrine is too good to be true: it works only on paper, but not in real life. Communists from Eastern Europe crossed the heavily fortified Iron Curtain en masse, not stopping at anything, because of their own interest's clash with national authorities. Let's illustrate this phenomenon with a satirical East German joke:
Q: What's the difference between the black market and the Leipzig Trade Fair?
A: At the black market, you can't see anything, but you can buy everything.
At the Leipzig Trade Fair, you can see everything, but you can't buy anything.
Long story short: liberalism/capitalism, though it relies on the survival of the fittest, is a far better economic system.

Moving from economy to life in general, we find the fallacy of humans striving for earthly enjoyment while not caring for fellow humans (0r other species). A striking Swedish proverb reads: "One's person's bread is another's death".
 A sad but true paradox. Yet "the magic spot" must live on in myth and literature, in every Edenic/Arcadian scenario, from Siduri's isolated house/stronghold/palace/inn in the garden by the Waters of Death to the candy lands of modern children's daydreams.
The Edenic myths often tell a story of paradise lost, of how both physical and moral evil came into the real world. Eve was told by her Father that the forbidden fruit was lethal, but she was persuaded to taste it by the serpent's words and the bright colour of the fruit itself. The first transgression makes her aware of her nudity and causes her to hide. At the end of the Fall from Grace story, poor Eve and her spouse are cursed with pain and sorrow; with toil, blood, tears, and sweat. The punchline of this immense black joke is reached when, out of her two children born in pain and trouble, the jealous older brother kills the younger one. It must have felt like a stab to the heart, especially because one of her children was killed by the other as their quarrels escalated.
The Mediterranean pre-Christian "Fall from Grace" story, of which my favourite version, an Andersenian masterpiece by Nathaniel Hawthorne, can be read at http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=hawthorne&book=wonder&story=paradise, substitutes the fruit for a box. The sinner is here called Pandora: "Everygift", since the gods have circled aroud her like the fairies around newborn Sleeping Beauty and given her each a gift or two: a pleasant appearance, a good mood, a taste for the arts and music... Hermes/Mercury, the trickster on Olympus, called Quicksilver by Hawthorne ("mercury" is "Quecksilber" in German and "kvicksilver" in Swedish), gives her both the box, with the interdiction to open it, and the gift of curiosity: thirst for knowledge and/or for pleasure. He has arranged for her not to fear the unknown, so that the box can be opened. She's got both the lock and the key (like, in Genesis, the Eternal Father placed the forbidden fruit -and presumably the serpent as well- within Eve's reach): it is a test of character. A tricked test whose only outcome was, perhaps, for the rule to be broken: it was expected of Eve to taste the forbidden fruit, of Pandora to open the forbidden box. Which makes this kind of stories theodicies: what kind of deity would allow evil (physical and moral) to exist, keep it in one place, and then entrust that place to someone who, most surely, would let it all out?

The Downfall of Beau Extravagance

Here comes a beautiful but dark story from the eighteenth century:

Princess Orinda and her five sisters were born and raised in a fairy cave on a remote island. When they came of age, their guardian fairy told them of six treasures that would help them to restore the mainland kingdom of their exiled parents. So, after a fond farewell, the six princesses went separate ways.
Princess Orinda, in loveliness of person, surpassed the most lavish description: She was tall, fair, finely proportioned and, in short, might truly be considered a complete beauty: Her adventures at first consisted chiefly in acts of Benevolence to weary and distressed Travellers, as she passed on the road; pleasing herself with the many acts of superior relief the Magnet would empower her to indulge herself in at her return, she pursued her journey with such cheerful speed, that she passed far beyond the turn marked out in her directory.
 Thus, she came to a rocky country and to the ruined castle of an ugly old scoundrel, who wanted to take her for a wife, and tried to escape for three long and toilsome days.

In the utmost despair she now saw the morning of the fourth day approach, when, going to essay the Rock for the last time, she perceived a young man standing on the top.— Orinda, who had no time to lose, giving him to understand, by signs, her miserable condition, he descended; and, with very little difficulty, led her to the summit; Here the Princess discovered an open plain, on which stood a superb Mansion: It was surrounded by most delightful plantations ; ornamented with fine pieces of water, and gardens dressed with clumps of fragrant flowers; so that the Princess, from the contrast to that she had so lately left, fancied herself in a perfect Paradise: And thought she could never sufficiently express her gratitude to the young Man, who had delivered her from a situation which she now, if possible, considered worse than before.

As they proceeded on their way,. Luxury; (for that was the name of her Conductor) informed her, that the noble Building which appeared in view belonged to Extravagance, one of the most renowned Lords in those parts; to whom himself had the honour to be chief Steward and Favourite: "I will introduce you to my Lord," said he, "who is never "so happy as when we can rescue any one from the power of "that filthy Magician, Avarice."As he ended these words, they entered the House. Luxury then introduced her to two

bloated Females, with ruddy countenances, who occasionally assisted when Extravagance chose to entertain the Ladies of his family: They, with Luxury, accompanied the Princess through a grand saloon into an apartment, the furniture of which was beyond all description: Elegant sofas, fringed with costly Pearl; embroidered hangings, enriched with the finest Paintings, and most superb lustres, that cast a radiance round him. Here sat Extravagance, in his morning dress; he was an elegant young man, robed in a verd-coloured silk, embroidered with silver; and buttoned to the breast by a knot of Diamonds: His hair fancifully braided, and scented wih the richest perfumes. Luxury, his favourite, approached, and presented the Princess to him; informing him, that he had been so happy as to assist her in escaping from the Castle of Avarice.

Extravagance received the Princess with great politeness; and assured her, nothing made him so happy as vexing that sordid Being, whose utter extirpation he had long aimed at; and, if Example could have any influence, he was determined to destroy the reputation of Avarice, with all hat knew him.

Extravagance was so struck with the beauty of the Princess, although she was dressed in a plain white Robe, that he thought she far eclipsed any beauty he had before seen: He felt an unusual pleasure in viewing her; and at last: absolutely determined, in his own mind, to make her an offer of marriage: Accordingly, he began in the most insinuating manner to address her, in order to gain her affection, which was no very difficult task, for she began already to be much captivated with his person and agreeable manner, so different from her old Lover, Avarice: But Orinda gave him to understand, that, as she was under the Guardianship of the good Benigna, she was not at liberty to encourage his addresses, till she had performed her appointed journey, and acquired the Magnet of true Generosity- Extravagance no sooner heard this, than he, with a smiling countenance, said, he was happy he could save her the fatigue of so tedious a journey, for that the Magnet was then actually in his possession, "which, said he, "I will resign the instant you become mv Bride."—Orinda, not in the least doubting what he said, consented to remain his Guest a few days, till she could receive the approbation of Benigna, her guardian fairy.

The remainder of the day was spent in the highest strain of mirth and festivity, the Princess becoming more and more pleased with Extravagance, and his Favourite, Luxury, whose indefatigable attention prevented even her wishes, by procuring every thing in the greatest profusion: All went on very pleasantly till the evening, when, as they were sitting at a splendid splendid supper, the Princess beheld, to her utter amazement, the Faces of Luxury and her intended Bridegroom gradually transformed into those of pigs. The shock was so violent that she swooned: The two old Females, who "never once suspected the cause of her disorder, (as they frequently, in the evening, were afflicted with a dimness in their sight, which rendered them perfectly insensible to the other's deformity) contrived to remove the Princess into a proper apartment; where, after laying her on a sofa to repose, they sunk into sleep themselves; leaving Extravagance and his companions to finish their nightly Revels.

But now, as I am apt to believe that the readers will be impatient to learn the cause of this strange transformation, I cannot proceed without acquainting them (perhaps to their surprise) that Avarice and Extravagance were Brothers, and Sons to an old Fairy called Excess.

 Extravagance had always a pleasing form, till he got acquainted with Luxury, the offspring of a very disagreeable mixt family of the Centaurs and Gluttons: He inherited the disposition and manners of his family at times; so much of the Swine, that Extravagance, soon after his associating with him, grew so very like Luxury, as even to astonish his Mother, the Fairy Excess: However, at the request of her Son, she endowed him and his Favourite with  the the power of transforming themselves to any appearance they pleased, to hide their Beastly visages, whilst the day lasted; but no sooner did the night commence, than their natural deformity returned ; of which they themselves, at the time, were ignorant.

But to return to the Princess: She spent the night, when she recovered her senses, in the greatest uneasiness; doubting whether she had now changed her situation for the better: Yet she trembled at the thought of again falling into the hands of Avarice; for, notwithstanding that Extravagance and he were sworn enemies, and sincerely hated each other, there was one point in which they closely united; which was, that of intercepting the passage of those who were in search of the Magnet of true Generosity; knowing when That was discovered, and produced to the world, their Power of Enchantment would cease: For this grand reason, therefore, they joined interests; and planted themselves opposite each other, near the entrance of a Road that must unavoidably be passed; and employed their utmost art to this one eflential point.

The Princess was convinced that the horrid transformation, which so much terrified her, must proceed from some evil Enchantment; she therefore determined, if possible, to make her escape: To this end, in the morning, she rose; but now perceived the countenances of her Lover, and his Favourite, the fame as when she first entered the house: She would fain have persuaded herself that what she had the night before seen was but a Dream, occasioned by restless slumbers; but, when she considered every circumstance still strong on her memory, she was well assured of it's reality; and determined instantly to leave a place which, notwitstanding all its allurements, was replete with so much danger. She accordingly set out, and walked slowly forward, without the least observation; the house being in great confusion and bustle, preparing sumptuous banquets.

The Princess soon arrived at the entrance of a pleasant little Wood; at the side of which, under the shade of a venerable Oak, sat a very amiable young Knight, bearing a Shield, which cast a mild, resplendent lustre round him; on it was engraved the Shield of Moderation. No sooner did he descend, than two enraged Lions rushed from a thicket, and fell upon him; but the Knight, covering himself with his Shield, at one blow laid them both senseless; and was passing on to take possession of the Magnet, when the Princess, to her inconceivable amazement, perceived the one which was White, rife and recover, in the form of her young Lover, Extravagance; and the other, a Black one, in that of her old one, Avarice. The Knight instantly turned; and, seizing Extravagance, by the wonderful power of the Shield, totally subdued him.

Thus fell the dashing and wealthy Extravagance, slain by the knight, his equal in youth and beauty, but superior to him in strength and speed, due to a less self-indulgent lifestyle and the endurance of many hardships.

The young knight's name was Manfred. He was royalty, in fact, he was Extravagance's liege and the ruler of the whole kingdom. Both his parents had died when he was but a child. One autumn day, during a hunt in the woods, he fell asleep on the bank of some violent rapids. Then, a beautiful young woman appeared from the underbrush and woke him up, thus saving his life. This experience was branded on his youthful mind: he became obsessed with his unearthly saviour, neglecting the pleasures of the royal court. Years later, while mourning, after his mother's death, in a dark and thick forest, he encountered an elderly fairy, who brought him to the top of a tall cliff and told him about the shield's effectiveness against the effete, wicked Extravagance (and his misshapen older brother). Beneath the precipice, the young ruler found the fabled Shield of Moderation. Then, he came upon Orinda, the spitting image of the girl who had once saved his life from a watery grave.

The Princess Orinda was no sooner acquainted that the underground passage, she and the Prince had ventured, had led her again to the Castle of Avarice, than she informed them of her late escape; and, as she then hoped, to a much happier situation; then acquainted them of the terrors she met with in the house of his Brother, Extravagance: At this they sighed; and told her their ideas of that Enchanter had so affected their minds on a tour they were making, to observe the various manners of humankind, that, to avoid being captivated by his alluring invitations, should he meet them on the Road, had induced them to take a turn directly contrary, where they lost themselves; and wandering still more from a middle road, (which a part of their company asserted there was, and therefore left them) they travelled on a short time when they heard a loud talking of various voices; and, hoping from these to get direction to the better road, they followed the sound till they heard one of them say, with great vehemence, "I will ruin Extravagance." He then approached and informed the person who was speaking, that he had wandered so far out of our way, as even to disregard many poor Travellers we met on the road, on pretence that he dare not stop so near Extravagance.

For, as we have said before, Extravagance had already met his fate. The young monarch, determined to make the plain and its residents directly subservient to the Crown, had diverted the mob of vassals hell-bent on storming the mansion.

But what happened to Luxury, His Lordship's half-centaur steward/catamite? The story tells that Princess Orinda and Sir Manfred (the knight who had saved her and slain Extravagance, and had obviously become the betrothed of so beautiful and clever a royal child) arrived at the court of the Fairy Virtue, who was determined to punish every miscreant in the land.

Luxury, who in general was treated with contempt after the destruction of Extravagance, was ordained to spend his days among swine, as best suited to his nature and disposition.

The nuptials of the Princesses were now celebrated with the greatest magnificence, all the good Fairies assisting at the ceremonies: Several days were spent in rejoicing, during which time the most elegant entertainments and diversions were displayed, to solace the guests of the Temple of Virtue; after which the Princesies, endowed with the benefit of Benigna's good council, retired with their princely Knights to their respective governments.

Thus, Manfred and Orinda became the rulers of a vast, prosperous kingdom. As a wedding gift for his consort, the young ruler even seized the beautiful mansion and verdant plain that once were ruled by Extravagance. Said province became the jewel in their royal crown, and the portrait of its late lord and his steward was hung upside-down in the great hall were revels were held in the olden days, to remind us all for prosperity of the consequences of unchecked self-indulgence.

In spite of the fact that they spent time in the lands that once were Extravagance's when the duties of state and the routines at court weighed heavy upon their hearts, Their Royal Majesties Manfred II and Orinda the Liberal were never corrupted by too carefree and easy a lifestyle, and they lived to a ripe old age, to see their grandchildren grow up in purity and self-control.

A DASTARDLY AESTHETE

Let's be honest: some aesthetes/epicureans, like Lord Wotton, are just cozy-hearted. But there is another breed (let's call it Wallensteinian, for an obvious reason), that are corrupted by such a carefree lifestyle. Here you can find, pêle-mêle, drug addicts, Wallenstein-like social climbers whose thirst for earthly enjoyment can't be quenched, and many other depraved subspecies.
One such corrupt scoundrel was depicted by General Lew Wallace, the creator of Ben-Hur, in a lesser-known novel of his.
Dear readers, cross your fingers and hold tight, for Miss Dermark is proud as a peacock to introduce... (Drum rolls)... Demedes the Epicurean!

A genius thoroughly wicked—such was Demedes.
"Nature is the lawgiver; the happiness of man (read: of humankind) is the primary object of Nature: hence for youth, Pleasure; for old age, Repentance and Piety, the life hereafter being a respectable conjecture.", he said.
This was the motto in full, known only to the initiated—"Patience, Courage, Judgment in the pursuit of Pleasure".
Neither the money nor the time spent in this part of the preparation was begrudged; on the contrary, Demedes took delight in the occupation; it was exercise for ingenuity, taste, and judgment, always a pleasure to such as possess the qualities. In fact, the whole way through he likened himself to a bird building a nest for its mate.
Here we have a Palace of Pleasure illustrative of Epicureanism according to Demedes. The expense and care required to make it an actuality beget the inference that the float, rough outside, splendid within, was for a whole harem. Whosoever the favorite of the hour might be, the three pavilions were certainly the assigned limits of their beings; while the getting rid of her would be never so easy—the water flowing, no one knew whence or whither, was horribly suggestive. Once installed there, it was supposed that longings for the upper world would go gradually out. The mistress, with nothing to wish for not at hand, was to be a Queen, with Demedes and his chosen of the philosophic circle for her ministers. In other words, the Academic Temple in the upper world was but a place of meeting; this was the Temple in fact. There the gentle priests talked business; here they worshipped; and of their psalter and litany, their faith and ceremonial practices, enough that the new substitute for religion was only a reembodiment of an old philosophy with the narrowest psychical idea for creed; namely, that the principle of Present Life was all there was in man (read: humankind, as before) worth culture and gratification.

DISSECTION OF A FRAGMENT FROM GATTIAN PARABLES

Let´s look at this article, that I published two months ago, in particular at the Gatty excerpts included! Shall we?

Forgotten Victorian author Margaret Gatty wrote a series of "Parables from Nature", that is, moral and religious stories based upon natural phenomena.

One of them, "The Deliverer", set before the birth of Christ, tells of humankind's hope for a messianic redeemer. While most people expect a royal palace to be his birthplace and courtiers or royals for parents, "the lovers of pleasure hoped for a Deliverer in scenes of earthly enjoyment":

The conquering spoken of is but the overcoming of all wish for strife; the rule in store, the sovereignty of love, suppressing all desires but that for universal joy.

Ah! surely, when the Deliverer came it would be to make all people happy alike, and pour a healing balsam into every wound! Then would all the old griefs be buried and forgotten, and the soothed minds of the contented trouble themselves no more with struggle.

Oh for the dawning of that morn when the world should resound once more to the songs of rejoicing which gladdened the golden age! Had not the Sybils so spoken, and had not the Poet so sung? Then should everyone sit under his own vine and his fig-tree, and poor and rich alike cease from the land, for all should be equal and all happy.

"But whence should such a Deliverer be looked for—where be expected to arise?—Ah! surely only in some happy spot of Nature, some valley peaceful and beautiful as that of Cashmere, among a race of pastoral simplicity; in some perfect household, where disturbance was never known, and one mind prevailed. Thence alone could come He who would cause the cruel swords of war to be turned into ploughshares, and spears into reapinghooks, and animate and inanimate Nature to join in one general song of joy.

So these looked to the lovely valleys and the quiet nooks of Nature for the magic spot where discord had never entered. But they, too, looked and waited in vain—yet looked and waited on as before, and called upon Nature herself to confirm their hopes."

They looked and waited in vain because the Lord "had chosen base things of the world, and things which are despised, that no flesh should glory in His presence." And the Earth remained in suffering and oppression because "not many wise men after the flesh" are called by the Lord. That's why, according to Mrs. Gatty, Jesus was born in midwinter:

"Thus, thus, thus—while Nature lay torpid and hopeless, and half the world was winter-wrapt in snow. Thus, thus, thus—with healing on His wings, but not the healing they sought for: not a deliverance from death or sorrow, not a freedom from toil or pain, not even a ransom from temptation and sin." And, to add more fuel to the fire, the village inn where he was born and near which his carpenter father came from was located in a warzone (something Gatty never came to mention!).

Mrs. Gatty was a devout Christian, while I am a pacifist, an epicurean (i.e., a "lover of pleasure"), and a freethinker. The idea of "the magic spot where discord had never entered", so dismissed by the author's realism and spirituality simultaneously, is tantalizing to people like me in spite of its lacking foundation; for the problem of pain was and is a riddle without an answer.

Now look that I have color-coded some words: those related to suffering in red (like flesh and blood), and those related to enjoyment in pink (like cotton candy, sunsets, rosy cheeks, and Pinkie Pie). Try to find out what the theses displayed by a) Gatty and b) the "lovers of pleasure" are, respectively.

CAN THE MESSIAH BE BORN IN WONDERLAND?

Forgotten Victorian author Margaret Gatty wrote a series of "Parables from Nature", that is, moral and religious stories based upon natural phenomena.

One of them, "The Deliverer", set before the birth of Christ, tells of humankind's hope for a messianic redeemer. While most people expect a royal palace to be his birthplace and courtiers or royals for parents, "the lovers of pleasure hoped for a Deliverer in scenes of earthly enjoyment":

The conquering spoken of is but the overcoming of all wish for strife; the rule in store, the sovereignty of love, suppressing all desires but that for universal joy.

Ah! surely, when the Deliverer came it would be to make all people happy alike, and pour a healing balsam into every wound! Then would all the old griefs be buried and forgotten, and the soothed minds of the contented trouble themselves no more with struggle.

Oh for the dawning of that morn when the world should resound once more to the songs of rejoicing which gladdened the golden age! Had not the Sybils so spoken, and had not the Poet so sung? Then should everyone sit under his own vine and his fig-tree, and poor and rich alike cease from the land, for all should be equal and all happy.

"But whence should such a Deliverer be looked for—where be expected to arise?—Ah! surely only in some happy spot of Nature, some valley peaceful and beautiful as that of Cashmere, among a race of pastoral simplicity; in some perfect household, where disturbance was never known, and one mind prevailed. Thence alone could come He who would cause the cruel swords of war to be turned into ploughshares, and spears into reapinghooks, and animate and inanimate Nature to join in one general song of joy.

So these looked to the lovely valleys and the quiet nooks of Nature for the magic spot where discord had never entered. But they, too, looked and waited in vain—yet looked and waited on as before, and called upon Nature herself to confirm their hopes."

They looked and waited in vain because the Lord "had chosen base things of the world, and things which are despised, that no flesh should glory in His presence." And the Earth remained in suffering and oppression because "not many wise men after the flesh" are called by the Lord. That's why, according to Mrs. Gatty, Jesus was born in midwinter:

"Thus, thus, thus—while Nature lay torpid and hopeless, and half the world was winter-wrapt in snow. Thus, thus, thus—with healing on His wings, but not the healing they sought for: not a deliverance from death or sorrow, not a freedom from toil or pain, not even a ransom from temptation and sin." And, to add more fuel to the fire, the village inn where he was born and near which his carpenter father came from was located in a warzone (something Gatty never came to mention!).

Mrs. Gatty was a devout Christian, while I am a pacifist, an epicurean (i.e., a "lover of pleasure"), and a freethinker. The idea of "the magic spot where discord had never entered", so dismissed by the author's realism and spirituality simultaneously, is tantalizing to people like me in spite of its lacking foundation; for the problem of pain was and is a riddle without an answer. I have later explored the ideas of "the magic spot where discord had never entered", "the golden age", and free will as both a blessing and a curse, in this post: http://al261200.blogspot.com.es/2013/09/freedom-communism-disturbance-and.html