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the priests. That is always possible with the priests of Philistia, and indeed the priests of Sesphra can be made to help anybody in anything. And as for your Hamadryad, I will attend to her myself.”

“But, no,” says Jurgen, “I am ready enough in all conscience to compromise elsewhere: but to compound with the forces of Philistia is the one thing I cannot do.”

“Do you mean that, King Jurgen?” The Queen was astounded.

“I mean it, my dear, as I mean nothing else. You are in many ways an admirable people, and you are in all ways a formidable people. So I admire, I dread, I avoid, and at the very last pinch I defy. For you are not my people, and willy-nilly my gorge rises against your laws, as equally insane and abhorrent. Mind you, though, I assert nothing. You may be right in attributing wisdom to these laws; and certainly I cannot go so far as to say you are wrong: but still, at the same time⁠—! That is the way I feel about it. So I, who compromise with everything else, can make no compromise with Philistia. No, my adored Dolores, it is not a virtue, rather it is an instinct with me, and I have no choice.”

Even Dolores, who was Queen of all the Philistines, could perceive that this man spoke truthfully. “I am sorry,” says she, with real regret, “for you could be much run after in Philistia.”

“Yes,” said Jurgen, “as an instructor in mathematics.”

“But, no, King Jurgen, not only in mathematics,” said Dolores, reasonably. “There is poetry, for instance! For they tell me you are a poet, and a great many of my people take poetry quite seriously, I believe. Of course, I do not have much time for reading, myself. So you can be the Poet Laureate of Philistia, on any salary you like. And you can teach us all your ideas by writing beautiful poems about them. And you and I can be very happy together.”

“Teach, teach! there speaks Philistia, and very temptingly, too, through an adorable mouth, that would bribe me with praise and fine food and soft days forever. It is a thing that happens rather often, though. And I can but repeat that art is not a branch of pedagogy!”

“Really I am heartily sorry. For apart from mathematics, I like you, King Jurgen, just as a person.”

“I, too, am sorry, Dolores. For I confess to a weakness for the women of Philistia.”

“Certainly you have given me no cause to suspect you of any weakness in that quarter,” observed Dolores, “in the long while you have been alone with me, and have talked so wisely and have reasoned so deeply. I am afraid that after tonight I shall find all other men more or less superficial. Heigho! and I shall probably weep my eyes out tomorrow when you are relegated to limbo. For that is what the priests will do with you, King Jurgen, on one plea or another, if you do not conform to the laws of Philistia.”

“And that one compromise I cannot make! Ah, but even now I have a plan wherewith to escape your priests: and failing that, I possess a cantrap to fall back upon in my hour of direst need. My private affairs are thus not yet in a hopeless or even in a dejected condition. This fact now urges me to observe that Ten, or the decade, is the measure of all, since it contains all the numeric relations and harmonies⁠—”

So they continued their study of mathematics until it was time for Jurgen to appear again before his judges.

And in the morning Queen Dolores sent word to her priests that she was too sleepy to attend their council, but that the man was indisputably flesh and blood, amply deserved to be a king, and as a mathematician had not his peer.

Now these points being settled, the judges conferred, and Jurgen was decreed a backslider into the ways of undesirable error. His judges were the priests of Vel-Tyno and Sesphra and Ageus, who are the Gods of Philistia.

Then the priest of Ageus put on his spectacles and consulted the canonical law, and declared that this change in the indictment necessitated a severance of Jurgen from the others, in the infliction of punishment.

“For each, of course, must be relegated to the limbo of his fathers, as was foretold, in order that the prophecies may be fulfilled. Religion languishes when prophecies are not fulfilled. Now it appears that the forefathers of the flesh and blood prisoner were of a different faith from the progenitors of these obsolete illusions, and that his fathers foretold quite different things, and that their limbo was called Hell.”

“It is little you know,” says Jurgen, “of the religion of Eubonia.”

“We have it written down in this great book,” the priest of Vel-Tyno then told him⁠—“every word of it without blot or error.”

“Then you will see that the King of Eubonia is the head of the church there, and changes all the prophecies at will. Learned Gowlais says so directly: and the judicious Stevegonius was forced to agree with him, however unwillingly, as you will instantly discover by consulting the third section of his widely famous nineteenth chapter.”

“Both Gowlais and Stevegonius were probably notorious heretics,” says the priest of Ageus. “I believe that was settled once for all at the Diet of Orthumar.”

“Eh!” says Jurgen. He did not like this priest. “Now I will wager, sirs,” Jurgen continued, a trifle patronizingly, “that you gentlemen have not read Gowlais, or even Stevegonius, in the light of Vossler’s commentaries. And that is why you underrate them.”

“I at least have read every word that was ever written by any of these three,” replied the priest of Sesphra⁠—“and with, as I need hardly say, the liveliest abhorrence. And this Gowlais in particular, as I hasten to agree with my learned confrère, is a most notorious heretic⁠—”

“Oh, sir,” said Jurgen, horrified, “whatever are you telling me about Gowlais!”

“I tell you

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