The god was slender and as swift as a wind. His hair swung about his face like golden blossoms. His eyes were mild and dancing and his lips smiled with quiet sweetness. About his head there flew perpetually a ring of singing birds, and when he spoke his voice came sweetly from a centre of sweetness.
“Health to you, daughter of Murrachu,” said he, and he sat down.
“I do not know you, sir,” the terrified girl whispered.
“I cannot be known until I make myself known,” he replied. “I am called Infinite Joy, O daughter of Murrachu, and I am called Love.”
The girl gazed doubtfully from one to the other.
Pan looked up from his pipes.
“I also am called Love,” said he gently, “and I am called Joy.”
Angus Óg looked for the first time at Pan.
“Singer of the Vine,” said he, “I know your names—they are Desire and Fever and Lust and Death. Why have you come from your own place to spy upon my pastures and my quiet fields?”
Pan replied mildly.
“The mortal gods move by the Immortal Will, and, therefore, I am here.”
“And I am here,” said Angus.
“Give me a sign,” said Pan, “that I must go.”
Angus Óg lifted his hand and from without there came again the triumphant music of the birds.
“It is a sign,” said he, “the voice of Dana speaking in the air,” and, saying so, he made obeisance to the great mother.
Pan lifted his hand, and from afar there came the lowing of the cattle and the thin voices of the goats.
“It is a sign,” said he, “the voice of Demeter speaking from the earth,” and he also bowed deeply to the mother of the world.
Again Angus Óg lifted his hand, and in it there appeared a spear, bright and very terrible.
But Pan only said, “Can a spear divine the Eternal Will?” and Angus Óg put his weapon aside, and he said:
“The girl will choose between us, for the Divine Mood shines in the heart of man.”
Then Caitilin Ni Murrachu came forward and sat between the gods, but Pan stretched out his hand and drew her to him, so that she sat resting against his shoulder and his arm was about her body.
“We will speak the truth to this girl,” said Angus Óg.
“Can the gods speak otherwise?” said Pan, and he laughed with delight.
“It is the difference between us,” replied Angus Óg. “She will judge.”
“Shepherd Girl,” said Pan, pressing her with his arm, “you will judge between us. Do you know what is the greatest thing in the world?—because it is of that you will have to judge.”
“I have heard,” the girl replied, “two things called the greatest things. You,” she continued to Pan, “said it was Hunger, and long ago my father said that Commonsense was the greatest thing in the world.”
“I have not told you,” said Angus Óg, “what I consider is the greatest thing in the world.”
“It is your right to speak,” said Pan.
“The greatest thing in the world,” said Angus Óg, “is the Divine Imagination.”
“Now,” said Pan, “we know all the greatest things and we can talk of them.”
“The daughter of Murrachu,” continued Angus Óg, “has told us what you think and what her father thinks, but she has not told us what she thinks herself. Tell us, Caitilin Ni Murrachu, what you think is the greatest thing in the world.”
So Caitilin Ni Murrachu thought for a few moments and then replied timidly.
“I think that Happiness is the greatest thing in the world,” said she.
Hearing this they sat in silence for a little time, and then Angus Óg spoke again—
“The Divine Imagination may only be known through the thoughts of His creatures. A man has said Commonsense and a woman has said Happiness are the greatest things in the world. These things are male and female, for Commonsense is Thought and Happiness is Emotion, and until they embrace in Love the will of Immensity cannot be fruitful. For, behold, there has been no marriage of humanity since time began. Men have but coupled with their own shadows. The desire that sprang from their heads they pursued, and no man has yet known the love of a woman. And women have mated with the shadows of their own hearts, thinking fondly that the arms of men were about them. I saw my son dancing with an Idea, and I said to him, ‘With what do you dance, my son?’ and he replied, ‘I make merry with the wife of my affection,’ and truly she was shaped as a woman is shaped, but it was an Idea he danced with and not a woman. And presently he went away to his labours, and then his Idea arose and her humanity came upon her so that she was clothed with beauty and terror, and she went apart and danced with the servant of my son, and there was great joy of that dancing—for a person in the wrong place is an Idea and not a person. Man is Thought and woman is Intuition, and they have never mated. There is a gulf between them and it is called Fear, and what they fear is, that their strengths shall be taken from them and they may no longer be tyrants. The Eternal has made love blind, for it is not by science, but by intuition alone, that he may come to his beloved: but desire, which is science, has many eyes and sees so vastly that he passes his love in the press, saying there is no love, and he propagates miserably on his own delusions. The fingertips are guided by God, but the devil looks through the eyes of all creatures so that they may wander in the errors of reason and justify themselves of their wanderings. The desire of a man shall be Beauty, but he has fashioned a slave in his mind and called it Virtue. The desire of a woman shall be Wisdom, but she has formed a beast in
