The Gods of the Copybook Headings
by J. Rudyard Kipling (1919)
[nb: a 'copybook' was formerly an exercise book used for
practicing handwriting by imitating the specimen printed at the
top of each page, typically expressing hortatory proverbs or
admonitory quotations; copybooks haven't been used in school
since the end of World War Two, and proper penmanship hasn't been
taught since the Vietnam War]
As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market
Place.
Peering through reverent fingers, I watch them flourish and
fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them
all.
We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in
turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly
burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of
Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March
of Mankind.
We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne, like the Gods of the Market
Place,
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word
would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had
gone out in Rome.
With the Hopes that our World is built on, they were utterly out
of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even
Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had
Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these
beautiful things.
When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual
peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the
tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed, They sold us and delivered us bound to our
foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the
Devil you know."
On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller
Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his
wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and
faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin
is Death."
In the Carboniferous Epoch, we were promised abundance for
all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money
could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't
work you die."
Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued
wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe
it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it
once more.
As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
There are only four things certain since Social Progress
began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her
Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the
Fire;
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world
begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his
sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter
return!
|
|