for many years eliphaz griggs was comparatively silent. not that he did not talk on all occasions whenever he could find hearers, he did that at great length; but for many years he addressed no public meeting, and was no part of the normal life of the northeast end of hyde park or trafalgar square. and then one day he was talking in a public house where he had gone to talk on the only subject that was dear to him. he waited, as was his custom, until five or six men were present, and then he began. “ye’re all damned, i’m saying, damned from the day you were born. your portion is tophet.”
and on that day there happened what had never happened in his experience before. men used to listen in a tolerant way, and say little over their beer, for that is the english custom; and that would be all. but to-day a man rose up with flashing eyes and went over to eliphaz and gripped him by the hand: “they’re all damned,” said the stranger.
that was the turning point in the life of eliphaz. up to that moment he had been a lonely crank, and men thought he was queer; but now there were two of them and he became a movement. a movement in england may do what it likes: there was a movement, before the war, for spoiling tulips in kew gardens and breaking church windows; it had its run like the rest.
the name of eliphaz’s new friend was ezekiel pim: and they drew up rules for their movement almost at once; and very soon country inns knew eliphaz no more. and for some while they missed him where he used to drop in of an evening to tell them they were all damned: and then a man proved one day that the earth was flat, and they all forgot eliphaz.
but eliphaz went to hyde park and ezekiel pim went with him, and there you would see them close to the marble arch on any fine sunday afternoon, preaching their movement to the people of london. “you are all damned,” said eliphaz. “your portion shall be damnation for everlasting.”
“all damned,” added ezekiel.
eliphaz was the orator. he would picture hell to you as it really is. he made you see pretty much what it will be like to wriggle and turn and squirm, and never escape from burning. but ezekiel pim, though he seldom said more than three words, uttered those words with such alarming sincerity and had such a sure conviction shining in his eyes that searched right in your face as he said them, and his long hair waved so weirdly as his head shot forward when he said “you’re all damned,” that ezekiel pim brought home to you that the vivid descriptions of eliphaz really applied to you.
people who lead bad lives get their sensibilities hardened. these did not care very much what eliphaz said. but girls at school, and several governesses, and even some young clergy, were very much affected. eliphaz griggs and ezekiel pim seemed to bring hell so near to you. you could almost feel it baking the marble arch from two to four on sundays. and at four o’clock the surbiton branch of the international anarchists used to come along, and eliphaz griggs and ezekiel pim would pack up their flag and go, for the pitch belonged to the surbiton people till six; and the crank movements punctiliously recognize each other’s rights. if they fought among themselves, which is quite unthinkable, the police would run them in; it is the one thing that an anarchist in england may never do.
when the war came the two speakers doubled their efforts. the way they looked at it was that here was a counter-attraction taking people’s minds off the subject of their own damnation just as they had got them to think about it. eliphaz worked as he had never worked before; he spared nobody; but it was still ezekiel pim who somehow brought it most home to them.
one fine spring afternoon eliphaz griggs was speaking at his usual place and time; he had wound himself up wonderfully. “you are damned,” he was saying, “for ever and ever and ever. your sins have found you out. your filthy lives will be as fuel round you and shall burn for ever and ever.”
“look here,” said a canadian soldier in the crowd, “we shouldn’t allow that in ottawa.”
“what?” asked an english girl.
“why, telling us we’re all damned like that,” he said.
“oh, this is england,” she said. “they may all say what they like here.”
“you are all damned,” said ezekiel, jerking forward his head and shoulders till his hair flapped out behind. “all, all, all damned.”
“i’m damned if i am,” said the canadian soldier.
“ah,” said ezekiel, and a sly look came into his face.
eliphaz flamed on. “your sins are remembered. satan shall grin at you. he shall heap cinders on you for ever and ever. woe to you, filthy livers. woe to you, sinners. hell is your portion. there shall be none to grieve for you. you shall dwell in torment for ages. none shall be spared, not one. woe everlasting... oh, i beg pardon, gentlemen, i’m sure.” for the pacifists’ league had been kept waiting three minutes. it was their turn to-day at four.
