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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc62ce9 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69786 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69786) diff --git a/old/69786-0.txt b/old/69786-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 66911f5..0000000 --- a/old/69786-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8995 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dreams and delights, by L. Adams Beck - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Dreams and delights - -Author: L. Adams Beck - -Release Date: January 14, 2023 [eBook #69786] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Al Haines, Cindy Beyer & the online Distributed - Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAMS AND DELIGHTS *** - - - - - - - - [Cover Illustration] - - - - - - =_THE NOVELS OF_= - =_L. ADAMS BECK_= - - =The Key of Dreams= - =The Perfume of the Rainbow= - =The Treasure of Ho= - =The Ninth Vibration= - =The Way of Stars= - =The Splendour of Asia= - =Dreams and Delights= - - - - - - =DREAMS= - =AND DELIGHTS= - - - =BY= - =L. ADAMS BECK= - - - - - - =NEW YORK= - =DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY= - =1926= - - - - - Copyright, 1920, 1922, 1923, 1924, 1925, 1926 - BY DODD, MEAD, & COMPANY, INC. - - - Printed in U. S. A. - - THE VAIL-BALLOU PRESS - BINGHAMTON AND NEW YORK - - - - - PREFACE - -These stories of dreams and delights in breathless jungles of Ceylon, -among Himalayan mountains, by Chinese seas, in ancientries beneath dead -suns and withered moons, are in truth the soul’s longing to behold the -White Swan of the World when in dim twilights of dawn and evening she -spreads her wings for flight. And because to such wings time and -distance are nothing I have gathered one feather dropped on Dartmoor as -she soared to Gaurisankar where on the highest peak of earth, circled by -great stars, the Mystic Mother of India dreams her divine dream as the -ages unroll beneath her feet. The Snowy Goddess, She who is Very Woman -of very woman, knows that whether by Thames or Ganges, Mississippi, -Yang-tze, or rolling Nile, Her daughters are the same, yesterday, to-day -and for ever, and holding in their hands the hearts of men, so fulfil -Her purpose. And because no true story can be told without this -knowledge, I set Her name at the beginning of these dreams and delights, -invoking devoutly the protection and inspiration of Her who is at once -Eve and Lilith, Athene and Aphrodite, Parwati and Kali, Virgin, Mother, -and Destroyer, but in all forms and incarnations, Enchantress and -Conqueror of men. - - L. Adams Beck. - -Canada. - - - - - CONTENTS - - PAGE - “V. Lydiat”. . . . . . . 3 - - The Sea of Lilies. . . . . . 41 - - The Bride of a God. . . . . . 61 - - The Beloved of the Gods. . . . . 89 - - The Hidden One. . . . . . . 107 - - The Marriage of the Princess. . . . 143 - - The Wisdom of the Orient. . . . . 167 - - Stately Julia. . . . . . . 185 - - The Island of Pearls. . . . . 215 - - The Wonderful Pilgrimage to Amarnath. . 253 - - The Man Without a Sword. . . . . 281 - - - - - “V. LYDIAT” - - - - - “V. LYDIAT” - - -She sat and looked at the signature written under the name of the story -in readiness for typing. - - “THE NINEFOLD FLOWER.” - -It was a fine story, she knew, and the signature satisfied her also as -it always did. _V._ is the most beautiful letter in the alphabet to -write and look at, the ends curving over from the slender base like the -uprush of a fountain from its tense spring. When she “commenced author,” -as the eighteenth century puts it, she devoted days and days to the -consideration of that pen-name. For several reasons it must not reveal -identity. Most women prefer the highwayman’s mask when they ride abroad -to hold up the public. It gives a freedom impossible when one is -tethered to the responsibilities of name and family. One becomes a -foundling in the great city of Literature and the pebble-cold eye of -human relationship passes unaware over what would have stung it into -anger or jealousy if it had held the key of the mystery. That is, if the -secret is guarded as carefully as V. Lydiat’s. - -But, for all I know, her strange reason for secrecy may never in this -world have swayed man or woman before. - -In reality she was Beatrice Veronica Law Leslie. - -A mouthful indeed! You can make as many combinations with that as with -the trick lock of a safe, and it will be as difficult to pick the -secret. She had a strong superstition about keeping to her own initials, -anagrammed or reversed and twisted. It seemed to her that this was part -of a bond of honour of which another held the pledge. With this pen-name -a most astonishing thing had befallen Beatrice Veronica Law Leslie, for -she won a literary success so sudden and singular that the very -management of it required a statesmanship she never before knew she -possessed. - -A little must here be said of her life that this strange thing may be -understood. She was the only child of a well-known Oxford don and a -somewhat remarkable mystically-minded mother who died when the girl was -fourteen. Her father, after that loss, “tried life a little, liked it -not, and died” four years later, and Beatrice Veronica who was known in -her family as B. V. then betook herself to the guardianship of an aunt -in Montreal. Here, she also tried life a little, on the society side, -and certainly liked it not. There was an urge within her that cried -aloud for adventure, for the sight of the dissolving glories of the -Orient and contact with strange lives that called to her dumbly in -books. They peeped and mocked and vanished to their unknown countries -taking her longing with them, and life lay about her vapid, flat, -dominated by an Aunt of Fashion. - -She floated on a duck pond and sighed for the ocean. What is a young -woman of spirit, not too beautiful to be dangerous, of small but -sufficient means, to do in such a case? Beatrice Veronica knew very -well. - -She waited until she was twenty-one, meanwhile securing the allegiance -of a girl, Sidney Verrier, in like case, an enthusiast like herself, and -on a May morning of dreamy sweetness they got themselves into a C.P.R. -train for Victoria, B. C., leaving two ill-auguring aunts on the -platform, and away with them on a trip to the Orient _via_ Japan. They -were under bond to return in a year. - -It was a wonderful, a heavenly experience—that wander-year of theirs. -The things they saw, the men and women they met, the marvels which -appealed to every sense! But I must not dwell on these for they are but -the pedestal to the story of V. Lydiat. - -A year! Impossible. Four, six, eight years went by and still unheeded -aunts clamoured, and the pavements of Montreal lacked their footsteps. - -And then, in Agra, Sidney Verrier married, and apologetically, -doubtfully, dissolved the fair companionship, and Beatrice Veronica was -left to solitude. - -When the bridal car rolled off to the station and the honeymoon at -Mussoori, she sat down and considered. She had not realized it until -then. The ways of the world were open, for experience had made them -plain. She had acquaintances, go where she would. There was no material -reason why she should not continue this delightful nomad existence -delightfully. But she was lonely, and suddenly it became clear to her -that she wanted quiet, time, recollection. She had assisted at a great -feast of the senses and had eaten to satiety. - -Now—imperatively—something in her heart cried “Enough.” - -Afterwards she wondered if that had been the voice of V. Lydiat crying -in the wilderness. The note of preparation. - -But where to go? Her aunt was still treading the daily round of bridge -and luncheon parties in Montreal and the soul of Beatrice Veronica -shuddered in the remembrance. No, no. The bird set free does not -re-enter its gilded cage, however temptingly the little dish of seed is -set forth. But she loved Canada for all that. She remembered, as she and -Sidney Verrier had passed through the glorious giant-land of the -Rockies, how broadly uplifted and vast had been the heights and spaces, -how enormous the glee of the rivers tumbling from hidden sources, and -they called her across far waters and beneath strange stars. - -But could one live in such colossal companionship? Is it possible to -dine and sleep and yawn in the presence of Gods and Emperors? There was -the doubt. And then she remembered a shining city laving her feet in -shining seas, with quiet gardens where the roses blush and bloom in a -calm so deep that you may count the fall of every petal in the drowsy -summer afternoons. A city of pines and oaks, of happy homes great and -small,—a city above all, bearing the keys of the Orient at her golden -girdle,—for it is but to step aboard a boat, swift almost as the Magic -Carpet, and you wake one happy morning with all the dear remembered -scents and sights before you once more. And her heart said -“Victoria,”—where Westernmost West leans forward to kiss Easternmost -East across the Pacific. - -So she went there—now a woman of twenty-nine, self-possessed, and -capable, and settled herself in a great hostelry to choose and build her -home. Her home, mark you!—not her prison. It was not to be so large as -to hamper flight when the inevitable call came— - - Take down your golden wings now - From the hook behind the door, - The wind is calling from the East - And you must fly once more. - -I wish I might write of the building of Beatrice Veronica’s home for it -developed into one of the immense joys of her life. But more important -things are ahead, so it must suffice to say that it was long, low and -brown with sunny verandas and windows avid of sunshine, and that all the -plunder of travel, and books, books, books found happy place in it and -grew there as inevitably as leaves on a tree. - -But it was while all this was in embryo that the thought of writing -impressed itself on Beatrice Veronica. Partly because the house -adventure was expensive and she wanted a larger margin, partly because -she had seen with delighted interest and intelligence all the splendid -spectacle of men and cities. Her sound knowledge of history and -cultivated taste in literature should count for pebbles in the writer’s -sling who goes forth to conquer the great Goliath of the public. She -revolved this thought often as she walked by murmurous seas or nested in -a niche of rock to watch the mountains opposite reflecting every change -of sunlight as a soul in adoration reflects its deity. It really seemed -a waste not to turn all this to some sort of account. And success would -be sweet. But how to begin! - -She bought an armful of the magazines which make gay the streets of -Victoria. “I ought to be able to do this kind of thing,” she reflected. -“I have a good vocabulary. Father always thought about eight thousand -words, and that should go a long way. Besides I’ve seen nearly all there -is to see. Let’s try.” - -She did, and ended with more respect for the average author. The eight -thousand were as unmanageable as mutineers or idiots. They marched -doggedly in heavy columns, they right-about-faced and deployed; but -there was no life in them. The veriest man-handler of a grizzly or a -cow-boy could do better. Being a young person of quick insight and -decision she decided to waste no more time in that direction. She laid -away the magazines and decided to be a spectator with memory and hope -for companions. She burned her manuscripts and turned her attention to -planning her garden. - -And it was then that V. Lydiat dawned on the horizon. - -Dawned. That is the only word, for it came and the sun came after. It -happened in this way. - -One night, in the usual way Beatrice Veronica fell asleep and dreamed, -but not in the usual way. She was standing by a temple she remembered -very well in Southern India, the Temple of Govindhar. It stood there, -under its palms wonderful as a giant rock of majolica, coloured lavishly -in the hard fierce sunshine, monstrously sculptured with gods and -goddesses, and mythical creatures of land and water in all the acts of -their supernal life, writhing and tapering upwards to the great -architectural crown supported by tigers and monkeys which finished the -building,—a crown gemmed with worshipping spirits for jewels, a -nightmare conception of violence in form and colour; the last barbaric -touch to the misbegotten splendour. Vaguely the whole thing reminded -Beatrice Veronica of her literary efforts and she stood among the palms -looking up to the blaze against the blue and smiling a little. - -Suddenly she became aware that a man was standing near the great gate -which no unbeliever’s foot may pass, looking up also, shading his eyes -with his hand from the intolerable sunlight. His face was sensitive and -strong, an unusual blending, his eyes grey and noticeable. She liked his -figure in the light tropical clothing. He had the air of birth and -breeding. But he seemed wearied, as if the climate had been too much for -him, a look one knows very well where the Peninsula runs down to Cape -Cormorin, and the sun beats on the head like a mighty man of valour. - -Then, as dream-people will, he came towards her as if they had known -each other all their lives, and said, slowly, meditatively: - -“I have tried and tried. I can’t do it.” - -With a sense that she knew what he meant though she could not drag it to -the surface, she found herself saying earnestly: - -“But have you tried hard enough? _Really_ tried?” - -He put his hands to his forehead with a tired gesture: - -“I’m always trying. But _you_ could do it.” - -She said, “Could I?” in great astonishment. - -They stood a moment side by side, looking at each other and then as if -from a blurred distance she heard his voice again. - -“It was said long ago that if any creatures united their psychic forces -they could conquer the world, though singly they could do nothing.” - -Temple and palms dissolved into coloured mist; they swam away on another -wave of dream and vanished. She floated up to the surface of -consciousness again, awake, with the pale morning gold streaming in -through the east window. - -She knew she had dreamed, for a sense of something lost haunted her all -day, yet could not remember anything, and things went on in their usual -course. - -That evening sitting in a corner of the hotel lounge, with the babble of -music and talk about her, she had the irresistible impulse to write,—to -write something; she did not in the least know what. It was so urgent -that she walked quickly to the elevator and so to her sitting room, and -there she snatched pen and paper and wrote the beginning of a story of -modern life in India, but strangely influenced by and centring about the -Temple of Govindhar. As she wrote the name she remembered that she had -seen it among the palm trees in its hideous beauty, and now, like a -human personality, it forced itself upon her and compelled her to be its -mouthpiece. - -How it happened she could not in the least tell. Certainly she had -travelled, kept her ears and eyes open and learned as much as any woman -can do who keeps on the beaten track in the Orient and consorts with her -own kind in preference to the natives. The two worlds are very far -apart—so far that nothing from below the surface can pass over the -well-defined limits. Moreover she was not a learned woman,—Indian -thought of the mystic order had never come her way, and Indian history -except at the point where it touches European was a closed book. -Therefore this story astonished her very much. She read it over -breathlessly when it was finished. If she had had that knowledge when -she was there how all the mysteries of the temple would have leaped to -light—what drama, what strange suspense would have lurked in its -monstrous form and colour! The critic in her brain who, standing aside, -watched the posturing and mouthing of the characters, told her austerely -that the work was good—excellent. But something behind her brain had -told her that already. She read it over ardently, lingeringly, with an -astonishing sense of ownership yet of doubt. _How_ had it come? And the -writing? No longer did the eight thousand of her vocabulary march in -dull squadrons, heavy-footed, languid. They sped, ran, flew, with -perfect grace, like the dancers of princes. They were beautiful -exceedingly. They bore the tale like a garland. She read it again and -again, with bewildered delight. - -She tapped it out herself on the keys of her Corona and sent it to the -editor of a very famous magazine, with the signature of “V. Lydiat.” As -I have said, that matter took long thought, prompted from behind by -instincts. - -It was done and V. Lydiat, a climbing star, shed a faint beam over the -world. For the editor wrote back eagerly. He knew he had found a new -flavour. “Your work impresses me as extremely original. I am anxious to -see more of it. I need hardly say I accept it for the magazine and I -shall hope to hear from you again before long.” A cheque followed. - -No need to dwell on Beatrice Veronica’s feelings, mixed beyond -disentanglement. She was not astonished that the work should be -recognized as good, but—V. Lydiat! What had happened to her and how? -Strange tales are told to-day of sudden brain-stimulations and -complexes. Was she the happy victim of such an adventure, and if so, -would it be recurrent? How should she know? What should she do? She felt -herself moving in worlds not realized, and could not in the least decide -the simple question of whether it was honest to accept commendation for -a thing she felt in her very soul she had not done and could not do. - -But then, who? What was V. Lydiat? - -He, she, or it, came from starrier spheres than hers. Wings plumed its -shoulders, while hers were merely becomingly draped in seasonable -materials. She knew that the visitor was a subtler spirit, dwelling -beyond the mysteries, saturated with the colour and desire of dead ages -which can never die—an authentic voice, hailed at once by the few, to -be blown at last on the winds of the soul which, wandering the world, -let fall here and there the seeds of amaranth and asphodel. - -Yes—V. Lydiat was entirely beyond her. - -But you will understand that, though Beatrice Veronica could not enter -into the secret places, it was a most wonderful thing to be amanuensis -and business manager. To her fell the letters from editors and -publishers, the correspondence which rained in from the ends of the -earth, protesting gratitude, praise, entreaties for counsel in all -things from routes to religions. These latter were the most difficult, -for it would have taken V. Lydiat to answer them adequately. But -Beatrice Veronica did the best she could, and her life moved onward -aureoled and haloed. - -She learned at last the rules of the game. V. Lydiat’s ethereal approach -could only be secured by the wand of a fountain pen. She must sit thus -armed with a fair sheet before her and wait, fixing her mind on some -idle point of light or persistent trembling of leaves, and suddenly the -world would pass miraculously from her and she would awake in -another—an amazing world, most beautiful, brimming with romance, lit by -suns of gallant men and moons of loveliest women. The great jewels of -the Orient shed starry splendours, and ghostly creeping figures pursued -them through jungles and mountain passes. Strange magics lurked in the -dark and drew the soul along the Way of Wonder. - -The strangest experience. It began always in the same way. The blue -Canadian sky, the hyacinth gleam of the sea through oak and pine -dissolved in unrealities of mist, and sultry Oriental skies, yellow as a -lion’s eyes or the brazen boom of a gong, beat their fierce sunlight -downward as from an inverted bowl. And then—then, she knew V. Lydiat -was at hand. But never with companionship. It was a despot and entered -in, with flags flying, to the annihilation of Beatrice Veronica. She -wrote like a thing driven on a wind, and woke to find it done. The -possession obliterated her, and when she could collect her routed forces -it was gone. - -So time went on and V. Lydiat’s fame was established and Beatrice -Veronica wore it as a woman too poor to appear at Court with fitting -magnificence shines in borrowed jewels and trembles to wear them. - -One night in the moonlit warmth, with the vast Princesses of the Dark -hidden in the ambush of breathless trees, she sat in the high veranda of -her little house with the broad vista through pines to the sea. - -It was a heavenly night; if the baby waves broke in the little bay they -must break in diamonds,—the wet stones must shine like crystals. - -That day V. Lydiat had transported her to a great and silent jungle in -Cambodia and they went up together through the crowding whispering trees -to the ruined palaces where once great kings dwelt, and passed together -through sounding halls sculptured with dead myths to the chambers, once -secret, whence queens looked forth languidly from wildly-carved -casements into the wilderness of sweets in the gardens. - -V. Lydiat had led her to a great tank of crystal water in the knotted -shade, paved with strange stones inlaid with human figures in wrought -metal,—a place where women with gold-embraced heads once idly bathed -their slender limbs in the warm lymph—a secret place then, but now open -to cruel sunlight and cold incurious stars. - -So far she knew it all. She had photographed that tank with its stony -cobras while Sidney Verrier timed the exposure. But of the story told -to-day she knew nothing. - -A wonderful story, old as time, new as to-morrow, for the figures in it -were of to-day, people who had gone there, as she herself had done, only -to see, and were captured, subjugated by the old alarming magic which -lurks in the jungle and behind the carven walls and eyeless windows. A -dangerous place, and she had not known it then—had thought of it only -as a sight to be seen, a memory to be treasured. But V. Lydiat knew -better—knew it was alive and terrible still. - -She leaned her arms on the sill and looked out to the sea that led -towards the hidden Orient and in her heart she spoke to the strange -visitor. - -“I wish I knew you,” she whispered. “You come and go and I can’t touch -you even while you are within and about me. You interpret. You make life -wonderful, but perhaps you are more wonderful still. If I could only lay -hold of you, touch you, have one glimpse of you! _What_ are you? Where -do you come from? Where do you go? I hear. O, let me see!” - -It was like a prayer, and the more intense because the dead stillness of -the night presented it as its own cry and entreaty. - -Dead silence. Not even the voice of the sea. - -She laid her head on her folded arms. - -“I’ve been obedient. I’ve laid myself down on the threshold that you -might walk over me and take possession. Have you no reward for me? Are -you just some strange cell of my own brain suddenly awake and working, -or are you some other—what?—but nearer to me than breathing, as near -as my own soul?” - -The longing grew inarticulate and stronger, like the dumb yearning -instincts which move the world of unspeaking creatures. It seemed to her -that she sent her soul through the night pleading, pleading. Then very -slowly she relaxed into sleep as she lay in the moonlight—deep, -soul-satisfying sleep. And so dreamed. - -She stood in the Shalimar Garden of the dead Mogul Empresses in Kashmir. -How well she knew it, how passionately she loved it! She and Sidney -Verrier had moored their houseboat on the Dal Lake not far away one -happy summer and had wandered almost daily to the Shalimar, glorying in -the beauty of its fountains and rushing cascades, and the roses—roses -everywhere in a most bewildering sweetness. How often she had gone up -the long garden ways to the foot of the hills that rise into mountains -and catch the snows and stars upon their heights. It was no wonder she -should dream of it. So in her dream she walked up to the great pavilion -supported on noble pillars of black marble from Pampoor, and the moon -swam in a wavering circle in the water before it, and she held back a -moment to see it break into a thousand reflections, and then became -aware of a man leaning with folded arms by the steps: his face clear in -the moonlight. - -Instantly she knew him, as he did her—the man of her dream of the -Temple of Govindhar. - -As before he turned and came toward her. - -“I have waited for you by the temple and here and in many other places. -I wait every night. How is it you come so seldom?” he said. His voice -was stronger, his bearing more alert and eager than at Govindhar. He -spoke with a kind of assurance of welcome which she responded to -instantly. - -“I would have come. I didn’t know. How can I tell?” - -He looked at her smiling. - -“There is only one way. Why didn’t you learn it in India? It was all -round you and you didn’t even notice. You don’t know your powers. -Listen.” - -Beatrice Veronica drew towards him, eyes rapt on his face, scarcely -breathing. Yes—in India she had felt there were mighty stirrings about -her, thrills of an unknown spiritual life, crisping the surface like a -breeze, and passing—passing before ever you could say it was there. But -it did not touch her with so much as an outermost ripple. She was too -ignorant. Now—she could learn. - -“You see—this is the way of it,” he said, leaning against the black -pillar. “The soul is sheer thought and knowledge, but, prisoned in the -body, it is the slave of the senses and all its powers are limited by -these. And they lead it into acts which in their consequences are -fetters of iron. Still, at a certain point of attainment one can be -freer than most men believe possible. When this is so, you use the Eight -Means of Mental Concentration and are free. You step into a new -dimension.” - -“Is this true? Do you know it?” she said earnestly. “Because, if there -is any way which can be taken, I have a quest—something—someone——” - -She stammered, and could not finish. - -“I know. Someone you want to find in the dark. Well, it can be done. You -would not believe the possibilities of that freed state of -consciousness. Here, in the Shalimar you think you see nothing but -moonlight and water—nothing in fact but what your senses tell you. But -that is nonsense. Your eyes are shut. You are asleep in Canada and yet -you see them by the inner light of memory even now and the help I am -giving you! Well—use the Eight Means, and you will see them waking and -as clearly as you do in sleep. But I, who am instructed, see more. This -garden to me is peopled with those who made it—the dead kings and -queens who rejoiced in its beauty. See—” he laid his hand on hers and -suddenly she saw. Amazing—amazing! They were alone no longer. - -Sitting on the floor of the pavilion, looking down into the -moon-mirroring water was a woman in the ancient dress of Persia, golden -and jewelled,—she flung her head up magnificently as if at the words, -and looked at them, the moon full in her eyes. The garden was peopled -now not only with roses but white blossoms sending out fierce hot shafts -of perfume. They struck Beatrice Veronica like something tangible, and -half dazed her as she stared at the startling beauty of the unveiled -woman revealed like a flaming jewel in the black and white glory of the -night. - -With his hand on hers, she knew without words. Nourmahal the Empress, -ruler of the Emperor who made the Shalimar for her pleasure, who put -India with all its glories at her feet. Who else should be the soul of -the garden? - -It seemed to Beatrice Veronica that she had never beheld beauty before. -It was beyond all pictures, all images in its sultry passionate -loveliness,—it was—— - -But as she watched spellbound, the man lifted his hand from hers and the -garden was empty of all but moonlight and roses once more, and he and -she alone. She could have wept for utter loss. - -“Was it a ghost?” she asked trembling. - -“No, no,—an essential something that remains in certain places, not a -ghost. There is nothing of what you mean by that word. Don’t be -frightened! You’ll often see them.” - -She stared at him perplexed, and he added: - -“You see? One has only to put oneself in the receptive state and time is -no more. One sees—one hears. You are only a beginner so I cannot show -you much. But you _are_ a beginner or you would not be here in the -Shalimar with me now. There is a bond between us which goes back—” He -paused, looking keenly at her, and said quickly “Centuries, and -further.” - -She was stunned, dazed by the revelations. They meant so much more that -it is possible to record. Also the sensation was beginning in her which -we all know before waking. The dream wavers on its foundation, loosens, -becomes misty, makes ready to disappear. It would be gone—gone before -she could know. She caught his hand as if to steady it. - -“Are you V. Lydiat?” she cried.—“You must be. You are. You come to me -every day—a voice. O let me come to you like this, and teach me, teach -me, that I may know and see. I am a blind creature in a universe of -wonders. Let me come every night.” - -His face was receding, palpitating, collapsing, but his voice came as if -from something beyond it. - -“That is what you call me. Names are nothing. Yes, come every night.” - -It was gone. She was in the Shalimar alone, and somewhere in the -distance she heard Sidney Verrier’s voice calling clear as a bird. -Beatrice Veronica woke that morning with the sun glorying through the -eastern arch of her veranda. She was still dressed. She had slept there -all night. Of the dream she remembered snatches, hints, which left new -hopes and impulses germinating in her soul. The unknown flowers were -sown in spring. They would blossom in summer in unimaginable beauty. - -That was the beginning of a time of strange and enchanting happiness. -Thus one may imagine the joy of a man born blind who by some miraculous -means is made to see, and wakes in a world of wonders. It is impossible -that anyone should know greater bliss. The very weight of it made her -methodical and practical lest a grain of heavenly gold should escape her -in its transmutation to earthly terms. - -The morning was V. Lydiat’s. At ten o’clock she betook herself to her -high veranda, and folding her hands and composing her mind looked out to -sea through the wide way of pines which terminated in its azure beauty. -Then, as has been told before, it would blow softly away on a -dream-wind, and the story begin. - -And at night there was now invariably the meeting. At first that was -always in some place she knew—somewhere she recognized from memory, -haunts of her own with Sidney Verrier. But one night a new thing -happened—she woke into dream by the Ganges at Cawnpore, at the terrible -Massacre Ghaut, a place she had always avoided because of the horrible -memories of the Indian mutiny which sicken the soul of every European -who stands there. - -Now she stood at the top of the beautiful broken steps under the dense -shade of the very trees where the mutineers ambushed, and he was below, -beckoning her. - -“Well done, well done!” he said, as she came slowly down to where holy -Ganges lips the lowest step. “This was a great experiment. You could -never have come here alone,—I could not have brought you until now, and -I had to fight the repugnance in you, but here you are. You see? We have -been putting stepping-stones, you and I, each from our own side, and now -the bridge is made and we hold hands in the middle. You can come -anywhere now. And listen—I too am learning to go where I have never -been. The world will be open to us soon.” - -He looked at her with glowing eyes—the eyes of the explorer, the -discoverer, on the edge of triumph. - -“But why here—in this horrible place?” She shrank a little even from -him as she looked about her. He laughed: - -“That is no more now than a last year’s winter storm. They know. They -were not afraid even then. They laugh now as they go on their way. Be -happy, beloved. They are beyond the mysteries.” - -Of that dream, she carried back to earth the word “beloved.” Who had -said it, she could not tell, but in the dark—the warm friendly -dark—there was someone who loved her, whom she loved with a perfect -union. Was it—could it be V. Lydiat? She did not know. Also she -remembered that she had dreamed the Massacre Ghaut at Cawnpore, and took -pains to search for pictures and stories of the place to verify her -dream. Yes—it was true. Things were becoming clearer. - -Also, her power in writing increased very noticeably about this time. V. -Lydiat was recognized as holding a unique place amongst writers of the -Orient. On the one side were the scholars, the learned men who wrote in -terms of ancient Oriental thought, terms no ordinary reader could -understand, and on the other, the writers of the many-faceted surface, -the adventurers, toying with the titillating life of zenana and veiled -dangerous love-affairs,—a tissue of coloured crime. V. Lydiat recorded -all, and with a method of his own which approached perfect loveliness in -word and phrase. The faiths of the East were his,—in India and China -alike his soul sheltered under the Divine Wings, at home in strange -heavens, and hells which one day would blossom into heavens. As he and -Beatrice Veronica had posed stepping-stones until they met in the -middle, so he built a splendid bridge across the wide seas of -misunderstanding between east and west, and many souls passed across it -going and coming and were glad. - -“I’m only a pioneer,” he said to Beatrice Veronica one day (she could -dream the day as well as the night) sitting in the gardens of the Taj. -“You too. It will be done much better soon. See how we are out-growing -our limitations and feeling out after the wonders of the sub-conscious -self, the essential that hands on the torch when we die. Die? No, I hate -that word. Let’s say, climb a step higher on the ladder of existence. -Every inch gives us a wider view of the country. You see?” - -She liked that “You see?” which came so often. It was so eager—so -fraternal in a way. Yes, they were good comrades, she and V. Lydiat. - -“Do you know I write for you?” she ventured to ask. “I have often -wondered if you speak as unconsciously as I write.” - -“No, no. I know. I always know. Longer ago than you would believe you -used to work for me. We are in the same whirl-pool, you and I. Our atoms -must always be whirled together again. You can’t escape me, Beatrice -Veronica.” - -“Do you think I want to?” she asked. - -But in daily life she clung to her secret like grim death. She would not -have been burdened with V. Lydiat’s laurels for the world. The -dishonesty of it! And yet one could never explain. Hopeless! Who would -believe? And apart from that, she had a kind of growing certainty that -V. Lydiat would enter upon his own one day. Not that she remembered him -as any more than a vague dream influence; she did not, but yet the -realization of a Presence was growing, and she herself developing daily. - -There is not much space here to tell the wondrous sights she saw with V. -Lydiat, and holding by his hand. That would be a book in itself—and a -beautiful one. And though she could only remember them in drifts like a -waft of far-off music on a breeze, it was incomparable food for the -sub-conscious self, and strengthened every latent faculty of memory and -experience. Beatrice Veronica promised to be a very remarkable woman if -some day the inner and outer faculties should unite. - -But what was to be the solvent? That, this story can only indicate -faintly for the end is not yet. - -She went out a little less into her small world of daily life—not -shunning it certainly, but her inner life was so crowded, so blissful -that the outer seemed insipid enough. Why figure at teas and bridge -parties, and struggle with the boredom of mah jong when the veranda was -waiting with the green way before it that led to the silence of the sea, -and the lover beyond? For it had come to that—the lover. All joy summed -up in that word, joy unmeasurable as the oceans of sunlight—a perfect -union. She walked as one carefully bearing a brimmed cup,—not a drop, -not a drop must spill,—so she carried herself a little stiffly as it -might seem to the outer world which could not guess the reason. - -People liked her—but she moved on her own orbit, and it only -intersected theirs at certain well-defined points. Her soft abstracted -air won but eluded;—it put an atmosphere of strangeness about her, of -thoughts she could not share with anyone. - -“She must have rather a lonely life of it!” they said. But she never -had. - -One day came a letter from Sidney Verrier, now Sidney Mourilyan, from -her husband’s coffee plantation in the Shevaroy Hills in southern India. -She wrote from the settlement of Yercaud— “Not a town,” she wrote, “but -dear little scattered houses in the trees. We have even a club, think of -it!—after the wilds where you and I have been!—and there are pleasant -people, and Tony expects to do well with coffee here. I wish half the -day that you could come. You would like it, B. V.— You would like it! -And you would like my boy—two years old now, and a sheer delight. Not -to mention my garden. The growth here! The heliotropes are almost trees. -The jasmines have giant stars. The house is stormed with flowers—almost -too sweet. Couldn’t you come? Don’t you hear the east calling? At all -events you hear me calling, for I want you. And you must be having very -idle lazy days, for I remember I never could imagine what you would find -to do if you stopped travelling. Your whole soul was in that. It’s a -cold country you’re in—frigid pines, and stark mountains and icy seas. -Do come out into the sunshine again.” - -She laid down the letter there and looked at the beloved pines almost -glittering in the sunshine as it slid off their smooth needles. And -idle?—her life, her wonderful secret life! Little indeed did Sidney -know if she could write like that. She took up the letter again, -smiling. - -“And listen, B. V.—there’s a man going round by Japan to Canada, a man -called Martin Welland. I should like you to know him for two reasons. -First, he can tell you all about this place. Second, I think he is -interesting. If you don’t find him so, shunt him. My love, my dear B. -V., and do come. Think of all you might do with this as a starting -point.” - -There was more, but that is the essential. You may think at this point -that you know exactly how this story must inevitably end. But no. - -It was about four months after this that Beatrice Veronica was rung up -on the telephone in her veranda as she sat reading. The imperative -interruption annoyed her;—she put down her book. A man’s voice. - -“Miss Leslie? I think your friend Mrs. Mourilyan told you I was coming -to Victoria. My name is Welland.” - -Polite assurances from the veranda. - -“Yes, I am staying at the Empress. May I come out and see you this -afternoon? I have a small parcel for you from Mrs. Mourilyan.” - -So it was settled, and with her Chinese servant she made the little -black oak table beautiful with silver and long-stemmed flowers in -beautiful old English glass bowls. If he went back to Yercaud he should -at least tell Sidney that her home in “that cold country” was desirable. - -He came at four and she could hear his voice in the little hall as Wing -admitted him. - -She liked it. The words were clear, well-cut, neither blurred nor -bungled. Then he came in. A tall man, broad-shouldered, with grey eyes -and hair that sprang strongly from a broad forehead, clean-shaven, a -sensitive mouth, possibly thirty-eight, or so. All these things flashed -together in an impression of something to be liked and trusted. On his -side he saw a young woman in a blue-grey gown with hazel eyes and hair -to match—a harmony of delicate browns enhancing an almond-pale face -with faintly coloured lips and a look of fragility which belied the -nervous strength beneath. - -The parcel was given and received; a chain of Indian moonstones in -silver, very lovely in its shifting lights, and then came news, much -news, of the home at Yercaud. - -“I heard of you so much there that you are no stranger to me,” he said, -watching with curious interest while she filled the Chinese cups of pink -and jade porcelain with jasmine tea from a hidden valley in Anhui. It -fascinated him—the white hands flitting like little quick birds on -their quick errands, the girl, so calm and self-possessed, mistress of -herself and her house. Many years of wandering had opened his heart to -the feminine charm of it all, the quiet, the rose-leaf scent in the air, -the things which group by instinct about a refined woman. - -“You have a delightful home!” he said at last, rather abruptly. - -“Yes— When you return do try to convince Mrs. Mourilyan that I don’t -live in a hut on an iceberg. You agree with me, I am sure, that only -Kashmir and perhaps one or two other places can be more beautiful than -this.” - -“Yes. I fully agree. Yet it misses something which permeates India in -places far less beautiful. It lacks atmosphere. Just as the fallen -leaves of a forest make up a rich soil in which all growth is luxuriant, -so the dead ancientry of India makes earth and air rich with memory and -tradition—and more. You can’t get it in these new countries.” - -“I know,” she said eagerly. “Here it’s just a beautiful child with all -her complexities before her. It rests one, you know. I felt it an -amazing rest when I came here.” - -“I can understand that. And they tell me the climate is delightful. I -wish I could stay here. I may come back some day. But I must return to -India in four months.” - -“You have work?” - -“Yes and no. I have collected an immense quantity of notes for several -books, but—now you will laugh!—I shall never write them.” - -“But why—why? I know there’s an immense opening for true books about -the Orient.” - -“I think so too. But you allow it’s a drawback that I am entirely devoid -of the writing gift. I have my knowledge. I have the thing flame-clear -in my mind. But let me put it on paper and it evaporates. Dull as -ditchwater! You see?” - -That last little phrase sent a blush flying up her cheek. It recalled -many things. - -“Yes, I see. But couldn’t you put it in skilful hands?” - -He laid down his cup and turned suddenly on her. - -“Could _you_ do it?” - -“I? I wish I could, but I am doing work at present——” - -“Literary?” - -“Of a sort. Secretarial. I write from dictation.” - -“May I ask what sort of things?” - -With a curious reluctance she answered. - -“Indian,” and said no more. - -He seemed to meditate a moment on that; then said slowly: - -“It appears you have experience of the very things that interest me. -Tell me—for I have been so long in the wilds— Is there any writer -nowadays taking the place with regard to things Indian that Lafcadio -Hearn did with things Japanese? A man who gets at the soul of it as well -as the beautiful surface?” - -With her eyes on the ground and a sense of something startling in the -air, she answered with a question. - -“Have you ever heard of V. Lydiat’s books?” - -There was a puzzled furrow between his eyebrows. - -“Not that I know of. Up in Kulu and beyond, the new books don’t -penetrate. A man or a woman?” - -“People are not certain. The initial might mean either. But the critics -all say a man. The last is called the ‘The Unstruck Music,’ the one -before ‘The Dream of Stars.’ The first, ‘The Ninefold Flower.’” - -“Beautiful names,” he said. “Can I get them here?” - -“I can lend them to you.” - -They talked long after that, in a curiously intimate way that gave her -secret but intense happiness. It was almost in fear that she asked when -he was going on and where. - -When he went off he carried the three books under his arm. - -“I shall read ‘The Ninefold Flower,’ first. It interests me to see how a -writer’s mind develops.” - -That night she had no dream and next day she tried even more eagerly -than usual to get in touch with V. Lydiat, but in vain. The oracle was -dumb. It frightened her, for the whole thing was so strange that she had -never felt sure it might not vanish as suddenly as it came. She sat -patiently all that morning, hoping and sorely disturbed, but the Pacific -hung a relentless azure curtain before her fairyland and the pines -dreamed their own sunshine-fragrance and made no way for palms. - -At one o’clock the telephone rang sharply, - -“Welland speaking. May I come and see you this afternoon?” - -It was impossible for she had an engagement, but she named the evening -at eight. He caught at it—his voice was evidence of that eagerness. - -He came a minute or two before the time, and a book was in his hand. She -knew the cover with a drift of stars across it before he spoke. - -It broke out the moment he was in the room. - -“A most amazing thing. I hardly know how to tell you. You’ll think I’m -mad. It’s my book—_mine_, yet I never wrote it.” - -They stared at each other in a kind of consternation and the little -colour in her face fell away and left her lily-pale. She could feel but -not control the trembling of her hands. - -“You mean——” - -“I mean—there are my notes one after another, but expressed in a way I -never could hope for, exquisitely expressed. But it’s mine all the same. -A cruel, enchanting robbery! You don’t believe me. How could you? But I -can prove it. See here.” - -With passionate haste he pulled a roll of paper from his pocket, and -pushed the typed sheets before her. The first story in “The Ninefold -Flower,” was called “The Lady of Beauty.” The notes began, “The Queen of -Beauty,” and went on _seriatim_ with the scaffolding of the story. - -“The way it’s done here, in this book, is the very way I used to see it -in my dreams, but it was utterly beyond me. For God’s sake, tell me what -you think.” - -She laid it down. - -“Of course it’s yours. No doubt of that. But his too. You blocked out -the marble. He made the statue. The very judgment of Solomon could not -decide between you.” - -“That’s true,” he said hopelessly. “But the mystery of it. The appalling -hopeless mystery. No eye but mine has ever seen that paper till now.” - -Silence. A grey moth flew in from the garden and circled about the lamp. -The little flutter of its wings was the only sound. Then in a shaken -voice very unlike its usual sedate sweetness, she asked. - -“Mr. Welland, do you ever dream?” - -“Awake? Constantly.” - -“Asleep?” - -She saw caution steal into his frank eyes and drop a curtain before -them. - -“Why do you ask? Everyone dreams.” - -She gathered up all her courage for the next question. - -“Were you ever in the Shalimar?” - -“Certainly. Does anyone ever go to Kashmir and miss it?” - -He was fencing, that was palpable. It gave her hope for a golden gleam -through her fear. She clasped her shaking hands tightly in each other. - -“I have the strangest dreams. I can only bring back snatches. Yet I know -there is a wonderful connected story behind them. I dreamt the Shalimar -not long ago,—I brought back one image. A woman in an old Persian dress -sitting by the black Pampoor pillars and looking down into the water -where the moon dipped and swam all gold.” - -“Yes, yes, go on!” he breathed. - -“There were flowers—white flowers. I never saw them there in the -daylight.” - -“Unbearably sweet,” he interjected. “The scent is like the thrust of a -lance. I know, I know. But there was another woman. I can’t remember her -face.” - -“How did she stand?” asked Beatrice Veronica. - -“Near me—but she could see nothing. The day still blinded her, -until——” - -“Until you laid your hand on hers. Then she saw.” - -Another long silence. Only the beating of the moth’s wings. He leaned -forward from his chair and laid his hands on the clasp of hers. Their -eyes met, absorbing each other; the way for the electric current was -clear. - -“I remember now,” he said, very softly. “It was you. It was you at the -Temple of Govindhar. At the Massacre Ghaut of Cawnpore. Ah, I dragged -you there against your will to show I was the stronger. It is -you—always you.” - -What was she to say? With his hands on hers it was a union of strength -which put the past before both like an open book. She remembered all the -dreams now. Impossible to tell them here—they were so many, like and -unlike, shaken shifting jewels in a kaleidoscope held in some unseen -hand. But jewels. They sat a long time in this way, rapt in wordless -memories, their eyes absorbing each other—the strangest reunion. When -speech came it brought rapture which needed little explanation. They -bathed in wonder as in clear water, they flung the sparkle of it over -their heads and glittered to each other in its radiance. When had such a -miracle been wrought for any two people in all the world? The dreams of -the visionary were actual for them and heaven and earth instinct with -miracle. - -“When we are married—when we pass our lives utterly together the bond -will be stronger,” he said, kissing her hand passionately two hours -later. “We shall be awake with reason and intellect as well as vision to -help our work, we shall do such things as the world has never dreamed, -prove that miracle is the daily bread of those who know. Two halves of a -perfect whole made one forever and ever. You see?” - -He looked at her a moment with shining eyes and added, “The wise will -come to us for wisdom, the poets for beauty, and we shall make our -meeting-places the shrines of a new worship.” - -Beatrice Veronica agreed with every pulse of her blood. The Great -Adventure, and together!—what bliss could equal that marvel? - -They were together perpetually, and surely human happiness was never -greater than that of these two adventurers with the blue capes of -Wonderland in sight at last over leagues of perilous seas. In another -image, their caravan halted outside the gates of Paradise, and in a -short few weeks those gates would swing open for them and, closing, shut -out Fate. - -But she did not dream of Martin Welland now, nor he of her. The -discovery and all it involved was so thrilling that it brought every -emotion to the surface as blood flushes the face when the heart beats -violently. The inner centres were depleted. - -They were married and Paradise was at hand, but for a while the happy -business of settling their life engrossed them. It would be better to -live in Canada and make long delightful visits to the Orient to refill -the cisterns of marvel, they thought. A room for mutual work must be -plotted in the bungalow; then there was the anxious question of a -southern aspect. Then it was built, and it became a debatable decision -whether some of the pines must fall to enlarge the vista to the sea. -Friends rallied about her on the news of the marriage, and rejoiced to -see the irradiation of Beatrice Veronica’s pale face. Then they must be -entertained. - -Then the endless joyful discussions as to whether the author should -still be V. Lydiat or whether collaboration should be admitted. These -things and many more filled the happy world they dwelt in. - -Can the end be foreseen? They never foresaw it. - -The hungry claim of human bliss fixed its roots in the inner soil where -the Rosa Mystica had blossomed, and exhausted it for all else. That, at -least, is the way in which one endeavours to state the mysterious -enervation of the sub-conscious self which had built the stepping-stones -between them to the meeting-point. - -She went hopefully to her table when they had settled down, and he sat -beside her doing his utmost to force the impulse across inches which had -made nothing of oceans. It was dead. He could think of nothing but the -sweet mist of brown tendrils in the nape of her neck, the pure line from -ear to chin, the delights of the day to be. She sat with the poor -remnant of his notes before her—for nearly all had been exhausted in -the three books—and tried to shape them into V. Lydiat’s clear and -sensitive beauty of words. It could not be done. Her eight thousand -words marched and deployed heavy-footed as before. They were as -unmanageable as mutineers or idiots. There was no life in them. - -So it all descended to calmer levels. They slept in each other’s arms, -but they never dreamed of each other now. They had really been nearer in -their ghostly meeting by the Taj Mahal or in the evil splendours of -Govindhar—far nearer, when she wrote and could not cease for joy, than -when Martin Welland sat beside her and struggled to find what had -flashed like light in the old days. They had to face it at last—V. -Lydiat was dead. - -It troubled them much for a while, but troubled the world more. The -publishers were besieged with questions and entreaties. Finally those -also slackened and died off. - -V. Lydiat was buried. - -They thought that perhaps if they returned to India the dead fire would -re-kindle under that ardent sun. But no. - -One day, at Benares, standing near the great Monkey Temple of Durga, -Martin stopped suddenly, and a light came into his eyes. - -“B. V. I’ve just remembered that one of the wisest of the pandits lives -near here—a wonderful old fellow called Jadrup Gosein. Let’s go and -state the case to him. The wisest man I know.” - -They went, Beatrice Veronica ashamed to feel a little uprush of regret -at the sacrifice of a part of the wonderful day. Martin knew so much. It -was heavenly to go to these places with him, and have them illumined by -his research. But they went to the pandit. - -The holy man was seated under the shadow of a great image of Ganesha the -Elephant-Headed One, the Giver of Counsel, and when they sat themselves -before him at a measured distance the case was stated. - -There was a long pause—a deep silence filled with hot sunshine smelling -of marigolds, and the patter of bare feet on sun-baked floors, as -curious quick eyes watched the conclave from afar. - -Jadrup Gosein meditated deeply, then raised his serene dark face upon -them with the dim look that peers from the very recesses of being. His -words, incomprehensible to Beatrice Veronica, had the hollow resonance -of a bell, near at hand but softened. - -“There was a man long since,” he began, “to whom the high Gods offered -in reward of merit, a rose-tree—very small and weak,—a suckling, as it -were, among trees, with feeble fibrous root, accessible to all the -dangers of drought and sun, and as he stretched his hand doubting, they -offered him for choice a rose from the trees of Paradise, crimson and -perfumed, its hidden bosom pearled with dew and wafting divine odours. -And they said ‘Choose.’ So he said within his soul, ‘The tree may -die—who knows the management of its frail roots? But the rose is here, -sweeter than sweet, immortal since it grew in Paradise! I choose the -rose.’ - -“And they put it in his hand. And the wise Elephant-Headed One said: - -“‘O fool! What is a rose compared to a rose-tree that bears myriads of -roses? Also the rose dies in the heat of human hands. The tree lives; a -gathered rose is dead.’ - -“My children, you have chosen the rose. Be content. Yet in another life -remember and cling to that which unsevered from the parent tree sends -roots into the Now, the Then, and the Future, and blossoms immortally.” - -So he dismissed them kindly. - -“He means,” said Martin with troubled brow, “that ordinary household -happiness shuts a man in from the stars. Do you remember the flute of -Pan, B. V.? He tore the reed from the river and massacred it as a reed -to make it a music-bearer for the Gods. - - “The true Gods sigh for the cost and pain, - For the reed that grows never more again - As a reed with the reeds in the river.” - -“But we are so happy!” she whispered, clinging against him to feel the -warmth of his love. “The outer spaces are cold, cold. I don’t regret V. -Lydiat. I have you. The reeds were happier in the river.” - -Martin Welland sighed. - -“You had both,” he said. “You have only me now.” - -But that regret also slipped away. They forgot. It all faded into the -light of common day and they were extremely happy. - -The two could never account for the way in which they had come together -in that dream-land of theirs. They had lost the clue of the mystery once -and for all. - -Jadrup Gosein could have told them, but it never occurred to them to ask -him. There are however many lives and the Gods have a long patience. - - - - - THE SEA OF LILIES - A STORY OF CHINA - - - - - THE SEA OF LILIES - - A STORY OF CHINA - - -I had come down from the mountain fastnesses of my home in Kashmir on -pilgrimage to a certain island off the coast of China. A long, long -pilgrimage, but necessary; for, with a Buddhist monk attached to the -monastery of Kan-lu-ssu in the hills of North China, I was to collect -certain information from the libraries and scholars of two famous -monasteries on the island of Puto. I, Lancelot Dunbar, am known to the -monks of the northern monastery of Kan-lu-ssu by the friendly title of -“Brother of the Pen,” and it is my delightful lot to labour abundantly -among the strange and wonderful stores of ancient Buddhist and historic -knowledge contained in some of the many monastic libraries scattered up -and down India, China and Ceylon. It follows that my wife and I own two -homes. - -One is a little deserted monastery in the Western Hills, in China, known -as “First Gate of Heaven,” and so beautiful that the name might have -grown about it like the moss on its tiled roofs. Following the bigger -monasteries, it has its quiet courtyard, its lotus-pool and the peaked -roofs with their outward, upturned sweep. The pines crowd upon us, and -the cloud-dragons of rain and wind play in their uncouth sport among the -peaks and fill our streams with singing, glittering water. - -Our other home is a red-pine hut near the Liderwat in Kashmir. The -beauty of it, the warm homeliness set amid the cold magnificence of the -hills and immeasurable forests, no tongue can tell. The hut is very -large and low, divided into our own rooms and the guest-rooms, with -hospitable fireplaces for fragrant pine-logs and floors strewn with rugs -brought by yak and pony down the wild tracks from Yarkand and Leh. -Beautiful rooms, as I think—the windows looking out into the pines and -the endless ways that lead to romance and vision. - -Which home is the more beautiful I cannot say. We have never known, and -our friends give no help; for some choose one and some the other. One -day I shall write of our life in Kashmir, the clean, beautiful -enchantment of it, the journeyings into the mountains—but to-day I must -recall myself to the pilgrimage to Puto. - -It is an island off the coast of China, as I said before, most holy to -the Buddhists of the Far East, dear to all who know it in its beauty and -religious peace and the lovely legends that cling about it, a place of -purification of the heart and of a serenity that the true pilgrim may -hope to carry away with him as the crowning of his toil and prayer. It -is one of the Chusan Archipelago and is separated from the large island -of Chusan by a stretch of water known as the “Sea of Lilies.” And it is -not very far distant from the hybrid dissipations of Shanghai and the -swarming streets of Ningpo and can be reached from either. Yet it is as -far removed from their hard realities as if it were built on floating -clouds and lit by other dawns than ours. - -Shanghai concerns itself, I am told, with that ancient and universally -respected Trinity of the World, the Flesh, and the Devil. I know little -of it myself and accept the testimony of friends, and especially of one -who knew it well. “I just think,” he said with conviction, “that if -nothing happens to Shanghai, Sodom and Gomorrah were very unfairly dealt -with.” - -So I met my friend Shan Tao in Ningpo, and we set sail together. The -island of Puto, at all events, concerns itself with a very different -Trinity from that of Shanghai. For the deity of Puto is the Supreme, -enthroned in eternal light, and on his right hand stands Wisdom and on -his left, Love. The patron saint of this island is Kwan-yin (the Kwannon -of Japan), the incarnation of divine love and pity, she who has refused -to enter paradise, so that, remaining on this sad earth, she may be -attentive to the tears and prayers of humanity and depart from it only -when the Starry Gates have closed behind the last sinner and sorrow and -sighing have fled away like clouds melting into the golden calms of -sunset. Yet when I say “she,” I limit the power of this mighty -_Bodhisattva_, or _Pusa_, as Buddhas-to-be are called in India and -China. For that pure essence is far above all limitations of sex and, -uniting in itself the perfection of both, may be manifested as either, -according to need and opportunity. Be that as it may, Puto is the -holiest, most immediate home of Kwan-yin, and her influence spreads far -beyond its shores and makes the very sea that surrounds it sacred. -Therefore it is to this day the Sea of Lilies. - -For when the Dwarf-men, the Japanese, came storming down on the island -from Hangchow long ago and carried off a part of the sacred relics, they -woke in the dawn to find their ship moving slower and slower and finally -rocking like a ship asleep in what seemed a vast meadow of lilies. Thick -as snow about them lay the ivory chalices with golden stamens; thick as -the coiling of snakes innumerable were the long piped and knotted stems, -with the great prone leaves. Neither oar nor sail could move the ship; -for the mysterious lilies, white and silent, that had sprung up from the -depths in a night held it as if with chains. And then comprehension -entered the hearts of the Dwarfs, and, taking hurried counsel, they put -the ship about and headed for the sacred island once more. As they did -so, a soft wind like the waft of a passing garment breathed on the -surface of the sea, the ivory chalices closed and the crystal lymph -flowed over them, and, where the leagues of blossom had spread, were now -only the foam-flowers of the waste ocean. So the treasures were restored -to Puto, and, when the story was told to the monks, they adored the -Heavenly Lady who guards her own. - -Lest it be said that the burdened consciences of the Dwarfs misled them -into a dream, let the story be told of Wang Kuei, a haughty official who -was sent on his Emperor’s behalf to do reverence at the shrines of Puto -and did it grudgingly and with a pride that ill became him. So, when his -ship set sail from the island and he sat in glory on deck, glad at heart -that his service was over, suddenly her swift course was stayed. Behold, -in the moonlight, the meadows of ocean had bloomed into innumerable -lilies, and there was no sea-track between them, no glimmer of water in -the interstices of the paving-leaves, and the ship was a prisoner of -beauty! Then the story of the Dwarfs rushed into his soul. In haste he -prostrated himself on the deck with his face toward the island and -prayed for pardon as he had never yet prayed, and the Heavenly Lady -heard him and the lilies were resumed into her pure being. The man of -pride returned to Puto and, doing homage of the humblest, went back in -security to his Emperor. - -But who can tell the beauty of Puto, looking forth on its little sisters -of the archipelago with the serenity of an elder who has attained? We -put up in one of the cells allotted to pilgrims in a monastery among the -hills overlooking the Sea of Lilies. Surely, I think, a lovelier place -could not be. The little ways wind about the island, past great rocks -sculptured with holy figures and groves of trees that climb the hills to -the tiled roofs of the many temples and monasteries. And wild and sweet -on the hills grows the gardenia, whence the island has its name of -“White Flower.” The sunny sweetness of its perfume recalled to me the -far-away, wild daphne bushes of Mount Abu in Rajputana, near the -marvellous white temples of Dilwara, temples of another, yet not -unallied, faith. It is easy to tell when the gods go by—it can never be -common air again, but sweet, sweet unutterably. - -All day I trod the bays on sand fine as powdered gold or wandered among -the flowers, taking notes for my book at the various temples and talking -with the monks and such hermits as are not under the vow of silence. -When they found I was at work for Kan-lu-ssu in the hills, they opened -their hearts and told me many things. - -I suppose it is difficult for the western mind to comprehend the -impulses that send a man to dwell in the solitudes of Puto, girdled with -its miraculous sea, there to let the years slip from him like a vesture, -unheeded, unregretted—but to me it is easy. Let me tell the story of -one of these monks, gathered from his own lips and told where a ravine -breaks down to the sands of a little bay; where the small waves fall in -a lulling monotone, a fitting burden to quiet words softly spoken as the -shadows lengthened to the hour of rest. He was named in religion “High -Illumination.” His name in the world I cannot tell. - -His father had been a farmer in Anhui, a well-to-do man for his class. -There were two sons, and my friend was the younger. His father, of whom -he spoke with deep reverence, had the utmost confidence in the elder -brother. In dying, he expressed only the desire that the elder brother -would make a just division with the younger of all the possessions he -was leaving, and so departed. - -“And I was content,” said High Illumination, “knowing my father’s wisdom -and believing that his wish, uttered in the presence of us both, would -be as binding upon my honoured brother as an imperial command. -Therefore, when all observances of departure had been completed and the -proper time came, I expected my share in peace, and the more so since my -good father had provided for my marriage with a beautiful maiden, the -daughter of a lifelong friend. But that was not to be. - -“And still my brother said nothing; all the duties of the seasons -proceeded and I worked and helped him, expecting daily that he would -speak. - -“Then at last in great astonishment I ventured this: ‘Honoured Elder -Brother, the will of our just father is still unfulfilled. Should we not -proceed in this matter?’ - -“And he, with anger and a reddened face: ‘What is this discontent? Do -you not share the land where you labour upon it? What more would you -have?’ - -“So, very temperately and courteously, I said: ‘Honoured Elder Brother, -I work but as a hired man who has no hire. I have not so much as a -_cash_ in my pocket to buy me the least of pleasures or needs. I have -but my food, and that, as I think, my elder sister [the brother’s wife] -grudges me. Such certainly was not the intention of our just father.’ - -“Then, his face distorted with rage, he replied, ‘Have your way, and if -it bring bitterness and disturbance of spirit, then thank yourself for -your greed!’” - -High Illumination paused a moment as if in memory. - -“Greed!” I said indignantly. “My friend, you were wronged and cruelly. -You could in a court of law have compelled him to do you justice.” - -“Yet he was right: for me it was greed,” said High Illumination, with a -smile of quiet humour. “I had thought of it night and day, till it had -soured my soul. But the next day at dawn my brother called to me with -anger in his voice and said: ‘The division is now made. Come and see.’ - -“So we passed along through the dewy dawn-gold in silence, past his -fields of budding rice and millet prosperously green, and at last we -came to a great stretch of pebbles and water-springs where nothing would -grow, no, not even a blade of grass. The place had come to my father -from many ancestors, and none could either use or sell its barrenness. - -“And there it lay, grey and hard in the morning gold, and my brother, -pointing, said: ‘Take it; the division is made. And when you store your -plentiful rice, thank my generosity.’ And, turning, he left me and went -back to his prosperity, laughing.” - -“It was a devil’s deed,” I said. “Surely he laid up for himself a black -_karma_ in so doing.” - -High Illumination shook his head slowly. “Who can judge the karma of -another? Daily did I pray that my brother’s feet might be set in the way -of peace, and I had assurance that thus and no otherwise it should be. -But hear the story and its loveliness. - -“So I sat nearly all day, staring at the pebbles. There was not even a -yard of the ground that spade and hoe could conquer, and I knew myself -vanquished. Then in the evening I rose and went to a neighbour and said, -‘I beseech you to find me work; for I must eat or die.’ He gave me work -and the wage was my food only; for he was bone-poor. So I lived for two -years, and, if I passed my brother, he would jeer at my rags and -leanness. - -“Now, as I went by my desolate heritage one day, I saw that between the -pebbles were pushing little bright green shoots, strong and hardy, -thrusting the small stones aside to make room for their impatience. The -tender greenness pleased me. It was like warmth and sunshine to see the -life of it, and I wondered what manner of growth could find food among -the stones. For a while I could not go that way, but, when I went again, -behold a thing most beautiful, for all the plants were covered with buds -like pearls! - -“My brother, hear a marvel. One day, before ever I came in sight of it, -a sweet perfume, warm with the sun, exhaling the very breath of -paradise, surrounded me. When I approached, the desert had blossomed -abundantly. I could not see the stones; they were covered with lilies, -white lilies, each with a gold cup, set in ivory, to hold the -incense-offering to the sun. What could I say, what think in beholding -this miracle of loveliness? I sat beside them to watch what they would -do, and a light breeze moved the flowers like bells upon the stems, and -there was a going in the leaves of them as though the hem of an unseen -garment trailed among them. And they were mine.” - -“They had never grown there before?” I asked. - -“No man of those parts had seen the like; nor I myself. Every day, when -my work was done, I went to look at them and sat to see their beauty of -ivory and gold. And once, as I sat, the rich official, Chung Ching-yu, -rode by. Pausing in astonishment, he bought a handful of the flowers, -giving me the first money I had seen for a year, and he told me to -gather the bulbs in due season and receive from him in return their -weight in silver. And what he said ran on to other rich men and to men -not rich, in the city of Ningpo, and they came bidding against one -another for the bulbs to sell to the great and to send in ships to -strange countries, until I who had been poor scarce knew how to store my -riches. And I saw what my lilies loved and put for them more stones and -water, and the next year they were a wilderness of sweets, where all the -bees of the world came to gather nectar. - -“But I knew indeed whence they came, since such beauty could not be of -earth, and I withdrew myself to a lonely place and addressed my prayer -to Kwan-yin, who had thus blessed my poverty, and I said: ‘O Adorable, -whose ears are open ever to the cry of the oppressed, whose beautiful -eyes are pitiful to sorrow, I bless thee for this compassion. And -because I dread the love of riches, and the flowers and not money, are -to me my soul, give me grace so to receive the mercy of thy gift that it -may befit thy greatness and my littleness.’ Even as I said the words, a -thought came to me, and I went to find my brother, whom I had not seen -for long days. - -“Now, when he saw me come, his face darkened with rage, and he said: -‘Are you come to taunt me because of my folly, in that I gave the best -of all the land to your idleness, or to thank me for the gold it has -heaped upon you? Speak out; for the lucky man may speak.’ - -“Then, standing at the door, I said this: ‘Elder Brother, your action -was unjust, and certainly the Divine does not sleep, but awaits its hour -in peace. As for me, the Spirit of Compassion has seen my poverty and -had pity upon me, and now I will tell you my heart. Two nights ago as I -lay and slept, it seemed to me that the moonlit air grew sweet with a -sweetness more than all my lilies—nay, than all the flowers of -earth—and I knew that the gates of paradise were opened and that the -immortal flowers exhaled their souls, and that to breathe them was -purification. Then, far off on a cloud so white that it resembled the -mystic petals of the lotus, stood a lady with veiled face, and in one -hand a chalice and in the other a willow spray, and even through the -veil her beauty rayed as the moon behind a fleece of cloud. My Brother, -need I say her name?’ - -“And, as I spoke, the hard face softened; for who is there that knows -not the Pity of the Lord? I continued: ‘In a voice sweeter than sleep, -she augustly addressed me, saying: ‘The Divine on its hidden throne -knows no repose while the sigh of the oppressed is heard before it. And -because this injustice was borne with patience, the armies of the -flowers of paradise were marshaled. Say, now, whether justice was -done.’” - -“And I said, ‘It was done.’ And, as a cloud slips off the moon as she -glides upward to the zenith, so fell the veil—but what I saw I may not -tell, nor could, for I weep in remembering that Beauty.” - -His voice faltered even in recollection; nor could I speak myself. We -sat in silence awhile, looking over the Sea of Lilies with the twilight -settling softly upon it. - -Then he resumed: “So I said: ‘Elder Brother, having seen this, I have -all riches and need no more. Take the land; for I depart into the life -of peace, where is no need of gold or gain, having beheld the ineffable -Treasure of the Nirvana and the very Soul of Quiet.’ - -“And his eyes kindling, he said, ‘What, is it mine—all mine?’ - -“‘Yours. Yet remember that these lilies are of heaven. It is in my mind -that these will have not only pure water and clean rock but also a clean -heart to tend them.’ - -“Then, very doubtfully, he took my hand and held it awhile in his and, -dropping it at last, turned, weeping, away. Thus we parted, and I came -to Puto.” - -“And you never saw him again?” - -High Illumination smiled, looking to where the star of evening blossomed -above us. “Four years passed,” he replied. “Then, among the pilgrims who -came to the holy shrines, I saw my brother, and yet could scarcely think -it he, so reverently and with such humility he knelt where the Divine -Lady waits in gold at the left side of the Infinite One. - -“Need I recount the rest, O Brother of the Pen? He came to my cell and, -seated at my feet, he told me all. When I was gone, the lilies withered, -and at first he thought he lacked my skill and spent much money on -digging and trenching, but still the lilies died, and at last he saw -that the air that clung about his garments withered them. So, as he sat -musing on this strange thing, he resolved in his soul that he would no -more sell the Divine in the streets nor market his peace for gold, but -that he would set aside these stones and pure springs for almsgiving to -the poorest of the poor. Looking up, he said this: ‘Spirit of -Compassion, have pity on my soul, bound and crippled by the love of -gain. For I too am not beyond the bounds of thy pity, and, if there is -hope of it for me in this life as the fruit of some solitary good deed -in former existences, grant that the flowers of heaven may blossom once -more and the souls of many rejoice in their loveliness.’ - -“And, as the words were said, he knew that the prayer was heard. The -lilies returned in a beauty beyond telling, and it seemed that half the -world desired them. He who had not known the joy of giving became now, -as it were, the very source of charity and gave not only of his lilies -but of his rice and millet and all his gains, that the heart of the poor -might be gladdened with plenty. So, as he told, we sat together, hand in -hand, with tongues that could not be satisfied in telling and eyes that -beheld the greatness of the Divine. And for many years he came, and the -monks watched and watched for his coming and I most of all. And at last -he did not come, but his son in his place, who told me that the bond of -life had been gently loosed, and it was believed that High Presences -stood about his death-bed while the villages mourned. - -“O Brother of the Pen, write this true story, that all may know there is -none like unto the Hearer of Prayer!” - -The evening star hung like a steadfast lamp over the dim ocean, and the -air was so still that, when at last a faint stirring came in the grasses -and leaves, it was as if some listening influence were passing softly -away, as indeed I believe. - -Skeptics may say that the wish was father to the thought. But I know -better. And as for the flowers themselves, there is a strange -susceptibility in the plant life we call “lower.” Of that truth I know -many stories which I shall tell one day. - -But how shall I tell the beauty of Puto looking forth on its little -sisters of the Archipelago with the serenity of a saint who has -attained? I sat alone next day by the carved Rock of Meditation -pondering these things, and bathing my soul in the peace of them as in -deep water. The mystery of the place was about me, for Puto is a home of -the mystic order of Buddhist monasticism which in India is called Jhana, -in Japan Zen, and there were men at hand to whom the bond of the flesh -is a thing easily unloosed. One sat on the height above me now in -profound meditation. - -I analyzed my own heart. Is it because all this with the atmosphere it -creates, is so beautiful that I love it? Or is it because it presents a -truth forgotten, lost, in our hurrying day of fevered unrest? - -Because it is of the truth. That is the answer. None can doubt it who -understands and loves these people and their teachings. - -None—who is admitted to the quiet of their secret places and thoughts. - -It is a truth which is a part of nature itself. Consider the lilies of -the field. They breathe it, the soft breezes whisper it among the leaves -of the maiden-hair trees, the measured cadence of the sea chimes it -eternally on the golden shores of Puto. - -They have the secret of peace, which we have immeasurably and to our -ruin lost. - -So my friend Shan Tao and I paced along the pilgrim’s path past the -sea-cave where visions of the holy Kwan-yin are said to have been seen -in the sun ray that strikes through the rent roof with something of the -same effect as the light contrived to fall from above in the temple of -Mendoet in Java on the white and beautiful face of the Bodhisattva who -sits in ecstasy below. And wandering on, beguiling the way with legends -and tales of the Excellent Law to reach the southern monastery, pausing -to look at the half ruined pagoda adorned on its four faces with -carvings of Kwan-yin, and her brother saints, P’uhsien, Wen-shu and -Ti-tsang, the last known in Japan as Jizo the beloved protector of dead -children, we reached the southern monastery and the courtyard with its -noble incense burners and candle holders, shaded by trees. Here it was a -part of my purpose to search for references in the library on the upper -story where the treasures are guarded by a serene Buddha in alabaster. -And let me say that if ever the libraries of the many Chinese -monasteries are searched with care and patience great additions will be -made not only to the science of the soul but also to the world’s wisdom. -Many lost treasures thus await their day of resurrection—treasures -brought back in the early days of our era by Chinese monks who made the -terrible pilgrimage through the cruel deserts and mountains to India -that they might return loaded with the spiritual treasures of -illumination and wisdom, and learned comments and digressions on these -written by mighty Chinese patriarchs whose gilded and lacquered bodies -are still preserved in the remote abodes of faith. - - * * * * * - -And when that day of revelation comes it will be found how much of the -religious thought of the divided faiths can be traced to common sources -in an antiquity so vast that it strikes the soul with awe. May that -knowledge bring union and surcease to the petty wranglings and contempts -which cloud the living waters of Truth. - -There are few scenes more serenely beautiful than the lotus pond of this -monastery and its still waters doubling the old arched bridge and the -sailing clouds, and the sunshine, unbearably delicious, brooding, -brooding upon it like a soul in ecstasy. A soft collegiate calm was -about us, the monks coming and going at intervals with kindly glances at -my pen and note book, and the reverence for the written character and -for what it represents that contact with our civilization will most -certainly kill. A harmless snake was basking in the sun not far away, -and a deer taught tameness by fellowship wandered about under the trees, -as they do on the island of Miyajima in Japan. - -How beautiful the confidence of the creatures in these Buddhist resorts, -how much we lose in losing their companionship! The gentleness of heaven -was on Puto that day, and the words of a poet-monk who wrote of the -beloved island floated through my mind like little golden clouds. - -“Who tells you that there is no road to heaven? This is heaven’s own -gateway, and through it you may pass direct to the very Throne of the -Divine.” - -I left it on a lovely day of summer—no foam-flowers blossoming on the -Sea of Lilies, a drowsy golden haze veiling the neighbouring islands. I -could scarcely have borne to leave it, especially its unrifled stores of -wisdom, had I not known that I was free of it henceforward and might -count on my welcome, come when I would. Almost, as we crossed the sea, I -could dream that the miraculous ship of Kwan-yin floated before us, its -sails filled with no earthly breeze, bearing the happy souls to the -golden Paradise of the West where the very perfume of the flowers is -audible in song. We who in Dante read the story of another Boat of Souls -may well recognize the inmost truth of this legend. And certainly in -Puto the soul may at least enter the heavenly Boat of Beauty that the -poets have sung in all tongues and ages, and pass in it to the blue -horizon of dreams and delights. - - - - - THE BRIDE OF A GOD - - - - - THE BRIDE OF A GOD - - - I - -Two hundred years ago in India, many happy people dwelt in the little -town of Krishnapur—happy because their belief was fixed and immutable -and it brought them gladness; for in all innocence and devotion they -worshipped Krishna the Beloved, the Herdsman of Brindaban, Lord of Love, -whose name their little town carried like a jewel of price. - -And certainly the God had gifted it with beauty. The terraced houses -climbed the ways of a hill deeply wooded with tamarind and pippala -trees, and down a deep ravine ran the little Bhadra River, falling from -great heights to feed the blue lake below. The place lay in the -sunshine, clear and bright as a painting on crystal brought by the -Chinese merchants, and by the favour of the God a delicate coolness -spread upward from the lake among the clustered houses. In its midst was -a very small island with a little temple lifting its shining gilded roof -and spires among the palms. In this he was worshipped as the -Flute-Player, an image of black basalt, very beautiful—a youth with the -Flute forever at his lips; and there were devout men and women who -declared that, in the midnight silence, sounds of music comparable only -to the music of Indra’s heaven had been heard among the palm trees and -mingled with the eternal song of the river. This report and the beauty -and quiet of the fair little town brought a few pilgrims to bathe in the -lake, crowding the broad low ghats that led down to its pure waters with -their flower-hued garments and the strong chanting of their prayers. - -Many legends haunted the town of Krishnapur. - -Now the Pandit Anand Das was a man learned in the Vedas and all the -sacred books, and his heart glowed with a great devotion. Since his son, -who should have inherited his learning, was dead, and it could not flow -in that beloved channel, he resolved that, slight and frail as a woman’s -intellect must needs be, he would instruct his daughter Radha in the -mysteries of the Holy Ones, as far as possible. He had named her Radha -from his devotion to Sri Krishna; for Radha is the heart’s love of the -God; and in bestowing this name he had made offering and prayed that he -might live to see her as beautiful, as true in devotion as the Crowned -Lady. The prayer was answered. - -Beautiful indeed was Radha, an image of golden ivory, with lips like a -pomegranate bud before its sweetness is tasted, and great eyes dark as -the midnight and lit by her stars. Beautiful the soft moulding of her -rounded chin, and the shaping of the flower-face poised on its stem like -a champak blossom that all the bees of love must seek, and the silk-soft -brows and the heavy sweep of shadowy lashes. Flawless from head to rosy -heel as the work of a mighty craftsman who wills not that his name shall -perish, so was Radha; and when the people saw her as she passed along -the little street, they gave thanks to the Beautiful for her beauty. -Fairer than fair, wiser than wise in all the matters of the Gods, she -lived her quiet days among the palms and temples, and each day laid its -gift at her feet. - -Now the Brahman, her father, having, as it were, devoted her to the God, -rejoiced to see that _bhakti_—which is faith, love, and worship in a -perfect unity—was a steadfast flame in her heart; nor was there any -word to utter her burning devotion. As a child she would leave all play -to sit before his feet and hear as he read of the divine Krishna,— - - The story of the Lord of All - Beginneth with a Pastoral,— - -and her child’s heart lived among the meadows of Brindaban with the -marvellous Child whose very name is ‘He who draws or attracts.’ - -And thus her learned father taught her. - -“This Krishna is the true incarnation of the Preserver who upholds the -universe. ‘For in him,’ says the Mahabharata Santeparva, ‘the worlds -flutter like birds in water’; and of him did not Maheshwara the -Destroyer say: ‘The divine and radiant Krishna must be beheld by him who -desires to behold Me.’ Thus in Sri Krishna is all Deity sheathed in -flesh, that the soul of man may dimly apprehend his glory. A Child—yet -thus in the Holy Song does the Prince Arjun cry to him:— - - “‘God, in thy body I see all the Gods, - And all the varied hosts of living things, - The undivided Thou, the highest point - Of human thought.’ - -“Can such a Being be approached by mere humanity? No, he is too far -away—the ear of man may not hear, and the eye of man may not see. How -if he were born among us, if we might touch his feet, and show him in -simple human ways our devotion? How if he would turn the common earth to -beauty by breathing the air we breathe? - -“And because it is so desired, it is done and Krishna is born, the -Herdsman of Brindaban, the Beloved of India.” - -So reading day by day, he instructed her in the lovely story of the -Childhood, and, with the ancient Pastoral, took her to the forests and -rich cattle pastures where Jumna River flows wide and still to the sea. -The people are kind and simple, the sacred cows are driven out at dawn -to feed, and brought back in the brief glow of evening by the fair women -who tend the gentle beasts; and this is Brindaban, the home on earth of -the Lord of All, the utterly Adored. - -So much a child! But when floods of rain threatened to sweep away the -herds and their keepers, he raised the hill Govardhan on the palm of his -small soft hand, and sheltered them from the torrents and the fighting -winds. And, as she sat at his feet, the Pandit showed his child Radha -pictures of that other Child, darkly beautiful, who could poise the -world on his shoulder. - - II - -As she grew older, the story widened and deepened with her years. But as -she came to girlhood, her anxious mother, Sita Bai, ventured with -trembling to doubt if it were well to draw her heart yet closer to the -radiant manhood of the young God; for now the story is to be mystically -interpreted and read by the light of the wisdom of the old and learned. - -“Was there not Mira Bai, who went mad for the love of him and could not -leave his image or his temple, and dreamed of his sweetness night and -day until she wasted to a shadow and died? And, my lord, is not his -great temple as Jagannath, Lord of the World, but ten miles from us at -the great town of Chaki; and is it not filled with bands of -_devidasis_—the dancing girls? Would you have your daughter as one of -them—sacred but—vile?” - -She caught the word back on her lips and looked about her in terror. -Then added passionately:— - -“O my lord, is it well to kindle such a passion in her heart, and she -little more than a child?” - -“Better be possessed by that love than by the follies and wickednesses -that haunt the hearts of women to their ruin and ours. Woman, I know -what I do. Be silent!” was all his answer. - -So she was silent, and daily the story went onward and filled the soul -of the girl. For now, as Krishna grew to manhood, beauty came upon him, -irresistible, heart-compelling, the world’s Desire, and on the banks of -Jumna was sung the Song of Songs—the Lover, dark and glorious, to whom -the souls of all the women of Brindaban, whether wife or maid, cling -passionately, forgetful of self and of all but him. And the deepest -symbol of the adoration of Krishna is the passion of man for woman and -woman for man. - -“Walk warily here, my child, if you would understand,” said the Pandit; -“for we move among pitfalls made by the mind of man fettered to his -senses—the mind of man, that coin bearing the double superscription of -spirit and flesh. Yet the story is plain for him who has ears to hear!” - -And Radha, speechless, with dark eyes filled with adoring love, -listened—listened, with no heart for aught else. - -“Tell me more, more!” she said. - -And he, seeing the Divine Passion, the trembling of her lips, the -uttering of her heart, told on, imparting the desire of the God. - -And when, as at this time, a marriage was spoken of for her with the son -of the rich Brahman Narayan, she shrank from it with such shuddering -horror that for very pity her father put it by for a while. But her -mother watched in great fear. - -And every evening, when the light was calm and golden and her father -laid his books aside, she would sit before him, putting all else aside -that she might drink in the sweet nectar of his words. - -And now he told of the Herd-maidens bathing in the clear ripple of the -river where the trees hang in green shadow over the deep pools. - -Their garments lie on the bank, forgotten in the joy of youth and life, -as they sing the praises of the Beloved, until at length one remembers -and looks, and lo! some thief has stolen the vesture, and they stand -ashamed in the crystal lymph, their long locks gathered about them. - -Who has so bereft them? For no man or woman should bathe uncovered; and -they have sinned—they know it! - -And then a voice calls from the world of leaves above their heads, and -there sits the Desired, shining like a star caught in the topmost -boughs, and before him are rolled the stolen garments, and when, all -shamefaced, they entreat for their restoration, the Voice exhorts -them:— - -“And if it is for My sake you have bathed and purified yourselves, then -come forth fearless, and receive your vesture from my hands.” - -And he laid in her hand the picture of the Gopis fearing and adoring as -they leave the lustral water, some shrinking in humility, to receive -their vesture from the Beautiful, who sits smiling far above them. - -“And this, my daughter, is a very great mystery!” he said gravely. “And -its meaning is this: ‘Thy _Thou_ is still with thee; if thou wilt attain -unto me, quit thyself, and come.’” - -And she said,— - -“Father, surely the Self is withered into nothing when this dearworthy -One calls. What were life, death—anything in the Three Worlds, compared -with beholding his blissful countenance?” - -And he replied,— - -“Even so it is”; and laid aside his book and fell into a deep musing on -the Perfections of the Lord; and Radha sat beside him. - -So that night her mother said timidly,— - -“Lord of my life, the girl is possessed by the God. I fear for her life. -In her sleep she speaks aloud of him and stretches empty arms to the -air, moaning. The colour fades in her lips, her eyes are fixed on -dreams. She has no peace. Should we not seek an earthly lover for her -own, that she may forget this Divine that is all the world’s?” - -And he replied sternly,— - -“Woman, lift up a grateful heart to the God that this girl is not as the -rest but consumed by the love of the Highest. I have a thought unknown -to you. All will be better than well.” - -And she desisted in great fear and obedience; but the very next evening -was the story told of Radha—heart of the God’s heart, the Beautiful -whose name she herself bore! And the girl listened in an ecstasy. - -It was a very still evening, the stars shining large and near the earth, -the moon a mere crescent, such as when Maheshwara wears it in his hair -and dreams on the mountain-peaks of Himalaya. They sat in the wide -veranda, supported on wooden pillars bowered in the blossoms of the -purple bougainvillæa and the white and scented constellations of -jasmine. The wide transparent blinds of split cane were raised to admit -the faintly perfumed breath of the garden; and by the Pandit’s elbow, as -he sat on his raised seat, burned a little oil lamp, that he might read -the sacred pages. - -Radha sat on her low cushion beside him, the _sari_ of Dakka muslin -threaded with gold fallen back from her head as she looked up. - -“‘In the passion of their worship, the women of Brindaban are drawn out -into the forest, each grieving if he do but turn his calm immortal eyes -upon any other than herself. Therefore, only in the secret places of the -forest is there now any joy. It has left the little houses and gone out -to dwell by the river. They must follow, for they bear the world’s wound -in their heart, and he is its Balm. - -“‘For a time his eyes rest on Radha the Beautiful, and she, transported -with the pride of love, entreats that he will carry her in his arms. He -stretches them to her with his mystic smile, and even as they touch her, -he vanishes, and she is alone in a great darkness.’ - -“Here again, my daughter, is the parable clear,” the Pandit interrupted -the reading to say. “Here is no room for spiritual pride and exclusive -desire. Learn your place, proud soul! It is at his feet until he, -unasked, shall raise you to the level of his heart.” - -“‘So at the last she falters and falls, stunned with grief, the -Herd-maidens weeping beside her, and—suddenly the Light shines. He has -returned. He speaks:— - -“‘Now I have tried you. You have remembered and thought upon me. - -“‘You have increased your affection like beggars made newly rich. - -“‘You have chosen my service, abandoning the world and the Scriptures. - -“‘How can I do you honour? I cannot reward you enough. - -“‘Though I should live for a hundred of Brahma’s years, yet I could not -be free of my debt.’” - - III - -She sat in silence; and breaking upon it, they heard the soft tread of a -man stop by their gate, and voices, and the servant who guarded the gate -came in haste. - -“Great Sir, here is the holy Brahman who is chief at the altar of great -Jagannath in Chaki, and he would speak with you.” - -“Bring him instantly hither. Stay! I go myself!” cried the Pandit, -rising. He had forgotten his daughter. - -“Father, have I your leave to go?” She drew the sari about her face. - -“Daughter, no. This is a wise man and great. Be reverent and humble, and -stay.” - -She stood, trembling with fear to see one so holy. Surely it was a -portent that the servant of the God should come on their reading. Yet -she quieted her heart, and when her father, attending the great guest, -placed him on his own seat, with the image of the wise Elephant-Headed -One wreathing his trunk behind him, she bowed before him and touched his -feet, for to her he was as Brahman and priest, an earthly God. - -He was a man in middle life, tall and dignified in spite of a corpulence -which gained upon him, and his features clear-cut in the proud lines -that denoted his unstained ancestry. He knew himself the superior of -kings. He would have spurned with his foot a jewel touched by the Mogul -Emperor of India. Yet more. Had the Rajput Rana, a king of his own -faith, sun-descended, royal, cast his shadow on his food in passing, he -had cast it, polluted, away. So great is the pride of the Brahmans. - -“Namaskar, Maharaj! What is your honoured pleasure?” asked the Pandit. - -“I am on my way to Dilapur on the divine business,” he answered, with a -voice like the lowest throbbing notes of the bronze temple gong. “But I -would have a word with you, Brother, as I go.” - -“Has my daughter your leave to depart, Maharaj?” - -“Certainly, friend, though it is of her I come to speak. May I behold -the face of the maiden? A Brahmani has no need to veil it. They are not -secluded like the Toorki women.” - -“Unveil before the Presence, my daughter, Radha.” - -The guest started at the name so familiar to him in his devotions. - -“It is singular, in view of my errand, that you should have given her -this holy name, Pandit-ji.” - -“She deserves it for the devoted love that she bears to Sri Krishna,” -returned her father. “Of her face I say nothing, but her heart is -flawless.” - -“It is well!” said the priest Nilkant Rai, and turned gravely to Radha. - -Many were the _devidasis_, the nautch girls of the God, in the Temple of -Jagannath. His eyes, deep and glowing, were no strangers to beauty, for -the fairest were gathered like flowers to adorn the altars of the God, -to dance and sing before his divine dreams, in all things to abide his -will. - -Six thousand priests serve Sri Krishna as Jagannath, Lord of the -Universe, at Chaki, for great is his splendour. The Raja of Dulai, royal -though he be, is the sweeper of his house. More than twenty thousand men -and women do his pleasure, and of the glories of his temple who can -speak? - -But never had Nilkant Rai beheld such beauty as trembled before him -then—darkly lovely, whitely fair, the very arrows of desire shooting -from the bow of her sweet lips, half-child, half-woman, wholly -desirable. - -His eyes roved from the wonder of her face to the delicate rounding of -her young breasts and the limbs exquisitely expressed, yet hidden, by -the sari. - -He looked in silence, then turned to the Pandit. - -“Surely she is an incarnation of Radha in face as in name. Brother, she -has my leave to go.” - -Yet, when she had fled like a shadow, Nilkant Rai did not hasten. The -other waited respectfully. _Pañ_—the betel for chewing—was offered in -a silver casket. A garland of flowers perfumed with attar of roses was -placed about the guest’s neck. Refreshments were served and refused. - -At length he spoke, looking on the ground. - -“Brother, it is known to you that the God makes choice when he will of a -bride, favoured above all earthly women. Beautiful must she be, pure as -a dewdrop to reflect his glory and return it in broken radiance, young, -devout— Surely, even in this land of devotion, it is not easy to find -such a one!” - -“It is not easy, holy one!” returned the Pandit, trembling as he -foreknew the end. - -The other continued calmly. - -“Now it so chanced that the priest Balaram passed lately through this -town, and going by the tank to the temple, beheld your daughter, and -returning, he came to me and said: ‘The God has shown the way. I have -seen the Desire of his eyes.’” - -“Great is the unlooked-for honour,” said the Pandit trembling violently; -“so great that her father and mother bend and break beneath it. But -consider, Holy One—she is an only child. Have pity and spare us! The -desolate house—the empty days!” His voice trailed broken into silence. - -“If this hides reluctance!” Nilkant Rai began sternly. “If you have -given a foul belief to any tale of the Temple——” - -“I, holy Sir! I have heard nothing. What should I hear?” The old man’s -voice was feeble with fear. “Do I disparage the honour? Sri Krishna -forbid! No, it is but the dread of losing her—the empty, empty house!” - -“And is she not at the age when marriage becomes a duty, and would she -not leave you then? Unreasonable old man!” - -“Holy Sir—Maharaj, I tremble before the honour. But if the girl -married, she would bring her babe and make her boast and gladden our -hearts. But thus she is lost to us. Have pity! There are other Brahmans -rich in daughters. Take not the one from my poverty.” - -Nilkant Rai rose to his feet with majesty. - -“I go. Never shall the God be rejected and ask twice. But when your -daughter, old and haggard, looks up at you, answer that it was her -unworthy father who kept her as a drudge on earth, when he might have -raised her to a throne in heaven.” - -As the old man stood with clasped hands, Radha broke from the shadows -and threw herself before him. - -“My father, would you hold me back? What joy, what glory in all the -world can befall your child like this? The bride of the God! O Father!” - -The tears were running down her face like rain. They glittered in the -lamplight. He could not meet her eyes. Nilkant Rai stood by, silent. - -“She is beautiful as a nymph of Indra’s heaven!” he thought. “Not Urvasi -and Menaka, the temptresses of sages, were more lovely!” He said aloud; - -“The maiden is right. She is worthy of the God’s embrace. Is there more -to say?” - -“Maharaj, I worship you!” said the old man submissively (and still he -had not looked at his child). “It is well. What orders?” - -“Let her be perfumed and anointed daily. Let her food and drink be purer -than the pure. Let her worship daily at the temple of Sri Krishna. The -bridal shall be held in a month from this, that time being auspicious. -The Car of her Lord shall come for her as the Queen she is, and all envy -the Chosen.” - -He turned to Radha, still at her father’s feet. - -“Farewell, happiest Lady. Joys earthly and celestial await you. Rest in -the knowledge of the favour of Sri Krishna. Hear of him, dream of him, -until the glad truth slays all dream.” - -He moved slowly toward the steps. Her father pursued him. - -“Maharaj. Forgive, forgive! I neglect my manners. Thanks a thousandfold -for the honour you have condescended to bring us this happy day. Your -commands are ever before me.” - -The words poured forth. He could not say enough. - -“It is well, Pandit-ji. It is well. Say no more!” said the great guest, -striding onward to the gate where two other Brahmans and his _palki_ -awaited him. - -She stood in the shadows as the Pandit returned. - -“Father, beloved, did I do wrong? Have you not taught me all my life -that there is none like him—none?” - -“My pearl, what is done is done. He cannot be resisted. It is well your -heart goes with your feet. Now sleep.” - -She passed in silently, and sat all night by the small cotton mattress -laid on the floor. How could she sleep? - -Nor was there sleep for the Pandit. Sita Bai needed little telling, for -she had listened behind the curtains; and now, with a livid pallor upon -her, she confronted him. - -“Lord of my life, what is there to say? You know—you know!” - -“I know,” he answered heavily. - -Sita Bai was too dutiful a wife to reproach her husband with anything -done; but his own thoughts returned to the long evenings spent in -contemplating the Perfections of the God. He replied to his thought. - -“Yet had she never heard his name, it had been the same. Nothing could -have saved her from the temple of Jagannath.” - -“Saved.” He caught the word back from his own lips in deadly fear, and -added in haste: “Whom the God honours cannot set his grace aside, and -there is none who would. None in heaven or earth.” - -“None,” echoed the woman faintly. Then, in a whisper scarcely to be -heard, “Whom Nilkant Rai chooses”—and steadily averted her eyes. - -They dared say no more of this even in whispers to each other; for if -this were reported, grief, ruin, death were the sure end. - -One word more did Anand Pandit breathe:— - -“She must keep her joy. It is the God’s. If he love her, he yet may save -her. Let no word be said.” - -She touched his feet in token of submission. All night they sat in a -bitter silence. - - IV - -Next day, all through the little holy town, bathing in its glad sunshine -beneath the swaying palms, had run the news of this honour. Sita Bai, -with a mask of gladness fixed on her face, visited the wife of the -goldsmith, and begged her sympathy with the divine event. The gold -bangles rang as she joined her hands; for she had come clad in -splendour, and her sari was of purple silk of Paitan woven with strands -of gold. - -When Radha went with her mother to the temple, crowds of the simple -people had gathered by the lake beneath the neems and tamarinds to -behold the beauty beloved of the God. True, they had seen it before, but -to-day it was strange and new. Her throat rose like the stem of the -lotus above the snowy folds of her sari, and like the purity of the -lotus was her face with its downward eyes hidden in heavy lashes. She -moved already like a bride, a little apart from her mother, to whom she -had clung hitherto. - -A voice shouted, “Jai Krishna!” (Victory to Krishna), and many voices -took up the cry. A woman, quivering with eagerness, flung a garland of -wet marigolds about her neck. Flowers were strewn before her happy feet. -Never before had a Bride been chosen from Krishnapur. It might well seem -the benediction of the God. - -A beautiful woman, in a sari of jade-green and silver, pressed up close -to her and whispered,— - -“Pray for me, O Beautiful, when you lie in the arms of the God, for me -Ramu, wife of Narayan the Sahoukhar, that I may bear a son. Surely he -will grant it for a wedding gift!” She stooped to the feet of Radha to -worship her. - -“I will pray,” the bride answered, pacing gently onward. - -Petitions poured in upon her as she moved through the dappled light and -shadow of the trees, beside the melted jewels of the lake. A great -gladness possessed her. It was as if the air upbore her light feet; and -the people followed in crowding joy until she made the _ashtanga_—the -great prostration before the Flute-Player, the Alone, the Beautiful, who -moves through the world scattering joy and love with the far music of -his Flute—He to whom all and none may draw near. - -When the people were gone and the sun had set, and quiet breathed from -the grey garments of evening, she entreated her father to read to her -from the Song of Songs, written by the sweet-voiced singer Jayadeva, who -has sounded all the secrets of love. - -At first he hesitated, then with a strange look upward, he read. - -“‘This is the story of the anguish of Radha. - -“‘For Radha, jasmine-bosomed, beautiful, waited in vain for her immortal -Lover, by the banks of Jumna. This is the Dark Night of the Soul, for -the face of the Beloved is averted in eclipse. In her sight, joyous and -joy-giving, he lingers on the banks of Jumna with the happy herd-maids, -while the _koels_ flute their soft _koo-hoo-oo_ in the deep green shade. -And the poet makes the invocation:— - -“‘“Krishna, Lord of Love, stoop from thy throne to aid us. Deign to lift -up our hearts for the sake of this song that is the cry of all who shed -the tears of desertion as Radha shed them.” - -“‘And Radha cries aloud in her despair:— - - “‘“Wind of the Indian stream, - A little, O a little, breathe once more - The fragrance of his mouth. Blow from thy store - One last word, as he fades into a dream.” - -“‘But he, far away in his Heaven, is lost in the Infinite Bliss; while -she, deceived, beholds him playing by the river. Yet, because the soul, -fevered with illusion, cannot soar to him, he forsakes his throne, -sending his messenger before him, thus to plead with her:— - - “‘“The lesson that thy faithful love has taught him - He has heard. - The wind of spring, obeying thee has brought him - At thy word. - What joy in all the Three Worlds was so precious - To thy mind? - _Ma kuru manini manamayè_,[1] - O be kind!” - -[1] My proud one, do not indulge in scorn. - ------ - -“‘He pleads, as it were, for forgiveness, the Divine reasoning with the -soul and justifying his ways. And all is well, and joy leaps over the -horizon like the sun that drives the dark with arrows of victory. For he -comes. - -“‘So then, Jayadeva writes of the high close, the mystic nuptials of the -soul and her Bridegroom.’” - -The old Pandit paused, his voice trembling, with the dark eyes of his -Radha fixed upon him. Then read on:— - - “‘Enter the House of Love, O Loveliest! - Enter the marriage bower, most Beautiful, - And take and give the joy that Krishna grants.’” - -And again he paused, the words choking in his throat, and she laid a -soft hand on his. - - “‘Then she, no more delaying, entered straight; - Shame, which had lingered in her downcast eyes, - Departed shamed. And like the mighty deep - Which sees the moon and rises, all his life - Uprose to drink her beams.’” - -He laid the book aside and extinguished the little lamp, so that only -the moonlight was about them. - -After a while, he said,— - -“My daughter, the God leads you in strange ways. Yet, whatever the -hearts of men, he is true. Offer him your heart in all purity, and in -the end it shall be well with you. We will speak of this no more.” - -“But, Father beloved, do you not share my joy?” she said tremulously. - -He was silent. - - V - -The days went by very swiftly to the time of the divine marriage. -Messengers came and went between the mighty temple of Jagannath and -little Krishnapur, bearing gifts and jewels. Casting half-contemptuous -glances, they passed by the little shrine where the Bride worshipped -daily; but all contempt died when they were admitted to see her face. - -“The God has chosen well!” they said, and looked at one another with -meaning. - -So the great day dawned in a passion of sunlight, and with flutes and -drums and shouting the great Car of Jagannath waited for the Bride; and -as she came forth, the pomegranate-blossom flush of joy rising in her -golden cheek, her parents bowed before her and touched her feet in -worship—no longer their daughter, but a goddess. - -Ankleted and zoned with gold, clothed in woven gold so supple that it -yielded to every breath, the sun-rays dazzled back from her upon the -adoring crowd until they put up their hands to veil the splendour. And -so she sat, a Radiance, for all the world to see, high on the Car -wreathed and hung with flowers, the image of the Bridegroom beside her. - -Oh, wonderful, terrible greatness for a woman! And so, with songs and -triumph they bore her to her bridal. - - * * * * * - -Mighty is the Temple of Jagannath, where by the eternal sea the people -crowd all day to worship the Lord of the Universe. In little Krishnapur, -he is the Beloved, the Herdsman, the Beautiful. Here, he is far -removed—too great for love or fear. Human thought quails before his -Vastness. - -The temple is in itself a city, and no feet but those of worshippers may -pass even the strong outward walls. Very glorious are the carvings that -adorn it. Terrible figures of Gods, many-headed, many-armed, bending -giant bows, trampling giant enemies, brandishing awful weapons, dandling -on their knees great Goddesses with slender loins and full breasts that -overweight their swaying grace. Very awful are these figures, with -clustering hair and crowns above their long eyes, and suns and moons -rising and setting on their brows, and the symbols of their might -scattered about them. - -But it was night, and it was among the wildly tossing lights that the -Bride approached the home of her Lord; and the temple was dreadful, for -it was dark and all the intricate ways lit with flickering points of -light like the eyes of beasts; and, lost among strangers, her heart -turned to water; for it resembled a great cave of blackness, and she -could see but the naked bodies of worshippers and giant images of the -holy Gods hovering through thick air laden with incense fumes and -burning _ghi_ and the dung of the sacred animals and the pungent smell -of rotting marigolds. And there were cauldrons with flames fed by wild -worshippers from the hills, and these crowded about the _palki_ wherein -they brought her through the temple, and touched it with hands that made -her tremble, imploring her prayers as she lay in the breast of the God. -Bats hung from the roof or swooped in the gloom. Their sourness tainted -the air, and men, dim as ghosts, slunk about the fearful ways. - -Thus dwell the Gods. - -And suddenly terror submerged her like an ocean wave, and she sank back -and the world left her. - -When sense and memory returned, she lay in her _palki_ in the great Hall -of Dancing—a mighty hall supported on many pillars; and around her -stood in motionless bands the _devidasis_, the dancers of the God, -chosen to delight his senses for their grace and beauty. - -And, seeing her stretch her hands for help, the wild and flying dance -began. They lifted her from the _palki_ and she stood among them, -shimmering in gold, and about her they wheeled, advancing and retiring, -linking and unlinking like dancers in a dream. And they sang the -marriage song she had heard in the quiet of her home; but now it was -terrible as it burst from hundreds of throats, gonged and cymbaled, with -clashing and a thunder-beat of drums. - - “Enter, thrice-Happy, enter, thrice-Desired, - And let the gates of Hari shut thee in. - Tremble not. Lay thy lovely shame aside - And love him with the love that knows not fear. - Give him the drink of amrit from thy lips.” - -She stood like one clinging to a surf-beaten rock as they tossed about -her with wild hands and eyes, the whole world mad with noise and dance -and colour; then, dropping on her knees, she covered her eyes in terror. - -And thus the servants of the God welcomed her to his arms. - - VI - -Night, and a great quiet. A chamber of gold set with jewels glittering -in the moonlight that came down some secret way, borne on a cool breath -from the sea. - -She lay alone in the golden place, and the jewels watched her like eyes. -Was it terror, was it love that possessed her? A thousand images blurred -her closed eyes—He, the Beautiful, with peacock crown, with eyes that -draw the soul, with lips of indescribable sweetness. It could not be -that she should lie close to the heart of the God. How dare flesh and -blood aspire to that mystic marriage? Must they not perish in the awful -contact? And, if it could be, how return to earth after that ecstasy? - -“May I know and die!” she prayed. “Oh, let me not pass unknowing! Let me -know and die!” - -And as the minutes dropped by, this prayer was all her thought, and it -possessed her being. - -Then, dividing the darkness, she heard the voice of a Flute very far -off. Like a silver mist, it spread vaporous, a small fine music, but -growing, drawing nearer, and, as it strengthened, clear drops of music -fell through this mist like honey from the black bees’ comb. It crept -about her brain and steeped her eyes as if in poppy juice, so sweet, so -gliding, most infinitely wooing as it grew and filled the air with -peace. - -And in this high marvel was a blissful safety beyond all words, more -sweet and delectable than any man may tell. The grace of his Childhood, -of the dearworthy passage of his blessed Feet among men, returned to her -with a joy that melted her heart with love. And so she rose and stood -upon her feet, as one called, trembling with blissful longing. - -Far down the long ways, passing through pools of moonlight and dark, -came One whom the music followed. His face could not at first be seen; -about him was a leopard skin. Naked but for this, beautiful and slender, -his silent feet moved onward. Like one utterly alone in a great forest, -he came,—slowly,—lost in some unutterable thought, made audible in -sweet sound. - -The Bride, the Lover, and between them, the music and the moonlight -only. She would have knelt, but her feet were fixed; and he drew near -with unseeing eyes—O Beautiful, O wholly desirable, to draw the hearts -of men! And still the Face Divine was hidden. - -But as he drew near and would have passed, she cried aloud with a -passionate glad cry, “My Lord indeed!” rejoicing suddenly. - -And he turned and looked upon his Bride with heavens in his eyes. And as -she saw what no words can utter, she fell upon his feet and lay, slain -sweetly with a bliss more keen than any pain. - - * * * * * - -But the Brahman, Nilkant Rai, waiting behind the pillar to seize his -prey, had heard and seen nothing of the Glory. - -As she fell, he sprang like a tiger on a fawn, and lifted the fair dead -body, and stumbled in the trailing hair, and knew his vileness -conquered. And in that moment the Eye of Destruction opened upon him the -beam that withers worlds and hurls them like shriveled leaves into the -Abyss. - -And he dropped her and stumbled screaming into the dark, a leper white -as snow. - -But when they came in the dawn to implore the will of the God from the -happy lips that his had blessed, the Bride lay at rest on the dim -straight golden bed, and between her breasts was a Flute set with -strange jewels that no man could name. Nor shall they ever; for when -they laid her body on the pyre they left this Flute in her bosom. - -And when Anand Das heard what had befallen, he said this:— - -“When did the Herdsman sleep on his guard or the Beloved fail the heart -that loved Him? It is well, and better than well.” - -And he who tells this story ends it thus:— - - “Meditates the Herdsman ever, - Seated by the sacred river, - The mystic stream that o’er His feet - Glides slow with murmurs low and sweet—” - -and breast to breast with God, the soul that adores Him. - - - - - THE BELOVED OF THE GODS - A STORY FROM THE MAHABHARATA - - - - - THE BELOVED OF THE GODS - - - A STORY FROM THE MAHABHARATA - -Reverence to Ganesha, Lord of the Elephant Trunk, that, in a day found -fortunate, he aid me to tell this tale, which whoso heareth shall -receive prosperity in this world and in that other. - -In the age of the ancestors there dwelt a great King in Vidarbha, with a -Queen of the highest grace and beauty, and these did all things pleasing -to the gods, making rich gifts to Brahmans and honouring kine, and in -reward for these things the gods gave to them three sons and a daughter, -and this was Damayanti, the loveliest of earthly women. And she was -known throughout the universe as the “Consumer of Hearts”; for the very -report of her beauty agitated the hearts of thousands who might never -hope to see it. Slender-waisted was she and stately as a young -palm-tree, and though she was a mortal, Sri, the wife of Narayana, had -dowered her with her own eyes, black and soft and so long-lidded that -they all but touched the silken hair upon her temples. The very gods in -the Paradise of Indra heard the report of this marvel and coveted it. - -Now as Damayanti, like a crescent moon, rounded into maidenhood, it so -befell that her maidens in talk together praised none but that Tiger -among Men, Nala the Prince. For they said: “This Prince overpasses all -men, and what shall be said of him? Surely he is laughing, bold and -handsome as Kama, the God of Love—he whose bow is strung with -honey-bees, sweet and stinging. The arrows of his eyes are pointed with -five-tongued flame. All hearts burn in his glances.” - -And Damayanti silently heard and pondered. - -But the report of her had in like manner reached Nala, and sweet -thoughts grew up in him for the slender-waisted maid. And he dreamed of -her. - -Now it chanced that one day, wandering in the great woods that -surrounded his palace, he saw a flock of swans, white and beautiful as -though washed in the waters of Lake Manasarovar, that cold jewel of the -Himalaya, and indeed they were of that royal race of swans who, dwelling -there, feed only on unpierced seed-pearls, and therefore are they so -white. So, as they drew together, the Prince, stealing noiseless as a -snake through the jungle, seized one, for love of its whiteness, and -held the long throat clutched in his hands and the plumed wings beneath -his knees. - -But in those days royal men had understanding of the lesser creatures of -the gods, and that king-swan spoke and Nala heard his speech: “O Tiger -among Men, slay me not. To me also is my life dear and precious! Have -pity, for I will do good service. I will fly through many leagues of -air, and in the ear of the Princess Damayanti will I say that of all men -you are the noblest and stateliest. And having heard this, she will -greatly desire you.” - -And by the favour of Kama, the Prince withdrew his hands, saying, “Swan, -observe your promise; for this is the duty of the honourable.” - -And the swan, inclining his head, flew away with his companions, having -instructed them as to the course they should pursue on alighting in the -gardens of Vidarbha. - -Now in the garden-close the Princess and her maidens played, and she -excelled them all, though each was fair. And the swans, seeing these -lovely ones among the flowers, fluttered to earth and stood near them, -arching their necks and preening their feathers, and their whiteness -delighted the Princess and she said, laughing: “Chase these swans, each -one a swan; for it appears that they desire captivity at our hands.” - -And every maiden pursued a swan, with laughter and sweet cries, and as -each all but seized her swan, the swan eluded her and fluttered a little -farther. Most lovely of all sights was it to behold the maidens and the -swans, as, equal in beauty, they fluttered hither and thither among the -flowers and the trees. And Damayanti, laughing with her voice of music, -pursued her swan, she also, that lovely lady of the long eyes, not -knowing that her heart was the destined prey of the swan she sought to -capture. - -For, when her hands were even upon the snow of his plumage, that -king-swan eluded her again and spoke in the speech of man, and in -amazement she stood to hear what he would say, as he inclined his head -before her feet. “Lady, O Most Beautiful, Damayanti, Consumer of Hearts, -there is a Prince in Nishada, and his name—oh, mark it well—is Nala. -As the Twin Stars shine in the sky, so he shines among men. Surely we -swans, flying in the pure air, see all men and divine beings and the -great gods. But we have seen none like unto Nala. Pearl among Women, if -you should wed this Prince of Princes, were it not better than well?” - -And when Damayanti heard this, she looked sidelong through her lashes -like a maid, for she was young and tender, and she said this, very -softly: “Dear swan—white swan! Fly and tell this thing to the Prince.” - -And that white beauty, the feeder on pearls, said, “Hearing and obeying, -I go.” - -And with strong strokes of his pinions he rose into the sky, followed by -his mates, and clove the air to Nishada and told the Prince her word, -being the destined messenger of love. - -But he carried the heart of the maid upon his wings; for Damayanti sat -her down upon the flowers and, when her ladies returned from chasing the -swans, they found her with her hand pressed upon her empty bosom and -tears welling like jewels from the dark deeps of her eyes. And though -they entreated her to speak and reveal the cause of her grief, she would -say nothing but this one thing: “All is well—and ill! Trouble me no -further.” - -And they returned, sighing, to the palace, with Care among them for a -companion. - -For Damayanti wanned and paled. Like a caged jungle-dweller would she -pace up and down, unresting, her eyes upon the ground. Food lost its -savour, and what was sleep but a weariness? And in the garden-close she -sat in her gold gown and watched the peacocks displaying their splendour -to the sun as they danced before the rains, and she only prayed for -wings that she might fly to Nishada. Very full of mischief were the -words of that swan! - -So her royal mother, instructed by the maidens that the Princess pined -away daily, went to her lord, the King, and said: “Such and such is the -case of our daughter. Do then according to your wisdom.” - -And the King pondered the thing deeply; for he loved his daughter, and -he answered: “I perceive she is no longer a child. Youth and maidenhood -are waxing in her, and who can gainsay them? It is now fitting that she -make her choice among princes and kings.” - -So the careful King, having considered, sent forth this message to the -courts of kings: “Lords of the Earth, it is with us an ancient and -honourable custom that the daughters of kings make choice of a husband -suitable to their degree and royalty; nor do we force them to unchosen -marriages. And this is known as the _swayamvara_ of a king’s daughter. -My Princess is now of due age to choose her lord. Come therefore to the -swayamvara of Damayanti, receiving honourable welcome.” - -And the news flew like gongs and drums over the land; for there was no -man but knew of the loveliness of the Consumer of Hearts, and each one -thought within himself, “She will choose me, and yet if not, still shall -I see that face of faces.” - -So from every country came processions to the court of Vidarbha: trains -of elephants walking slowly beneath the weight of the gold and silver -castles upon their backs, where sat the kings of men; horses with -jewelled saddles and bridles, the very stirrups glittering with -clarified gems that the feet of kings might tread upon them; glorious -companies of fighting-men, bearing their pennons; archers with bows -tipped with ivory, strung until they sang like the strings of the -_sitar_ in the wind. So in armies they came until the earth groaned -beneath their feet, and the great camps were set about Vidarbha. - -Also came Nala the Prince, gallantly accompanied, riding to Vidarbha, -and thoughts of love were thick as honey-bees in his heart. - -But who shall discern the thoughts of the Gods? - -For it chanced that two great saints, Narada and Parvata, mighty in -their austerities, pure and high of thought, ascended the heavens at -that time, to make a visit and obeisance to Indra the God, in his own -Paradise. And he, the King of the Clouds, rising to them, did them -honour and welcomed them; for the presence of the saints is as a rich -perfume in the nostrils of the gods. Therefore he saluted the two, -asking tidings of the world. - -And Narada replied: “High God, it is well with the world. It is well -with the kings. There is no complaint.” - -And Indra spoke again: “But where are my fighters—the kings of men? Do -they not love—do they not fight as of old? I see no souls of haughty -warriors entering my heaven. Is it all peace? Where are my -fighting-men?” - -So Narada made reply: “O Cloudy God, all is peace upon the earth, and -there is no thought but of beauty: the King of Vidarbha makes the -choosing for his daughter and the kings and princes dream of naught -else; for she is the very Lotus of the World and the Pearl of Women. And -the kings flock as one man to Vidarbha.” - -And while Narada said this, the Immortals gathered to hear, and when he -spoke of the maid Damayanti, their eyes shot forth peculiar radiance and -they said: “To this maid’s choosing we four will go. She is worthy to -choose among the deathless rather than the kings, and she shall reign in -the Paradise of Indra and sit beside that divinity whose bride she wills -to be.” - -And Indra, the Cloudy God, said, “I will go.” - -And Agni, the Lord of Fire, said, “I also.” - -And Varuna, the King of Waters, said, “And I.” - -And the Dark Presence that is Yama, the Lord of Death, said, “I go.” - -So their winged chariots that are self-directed, flying like thought -where they will, awaited them, and the gods ascended them and, thinking -of Vidarbha, were presently beside its walls. - -But Nala the Prince, approaching with his company of great men and -soldiers, elated with love and hope, looked up and beheld the Gods, -seated in their golden chariots. And these, the Protectors of the World, -saw him and hesitation in their purpose seized them, because he shone -like the sun and was a man indeed, and their divine hearts adjudged him -worthy even of Damayanti—so straight and tall he stood and like a -king’s lance, and in the beauty of his brows and strength of his person -was there no blemish from head to foot. Even like their own brother, -Kama, the God of Love, so he seemed to them. - -But, descending through the clouds and softening their divine voices -that human ears might abide them, they accosted him: “Aho! Prince of -Nishada—Prince Royal! We have an errand. We have need of a noble -messenger. Who will go for us?” - -And he did homage, pressing his palms together, answering: “I see Four -Shining Ones. I will go. What is your errand, that I may do it?” - -So Indra, leaning from his chariot, said this: “The Gods stand before -you, Prince of Nishada. I am Indra, the King of the Clouds, and he -beside me is Agni, the Lord of Fire, and here, Varuna, the King of -Waters, and he behind me is Yama, the Lord of Death. Go now to Damayanti -the Princess, and say this to her: ‘The Protectors of the World, the -Four Great Gods, desiring your beauty, are come to the swayamvara. Make -choice then to which of these Great Ones your heart inclines; for that -dignity whom you shall choose is yours, O maiden of excelling fortune.’” - -But Nala, joining his hands in prayer, said to Indra: “O Mighty, how can -I do this? O Mightinesses, anything but this! I, too, have journeyed to -Vidarbha, desiring the maid. How should I entreat for another, even for -a god? Being divine, have pity.” - -But these divinities replied: “Have you not said, ‘I go’? Is it possible -that a royal man should break his word? It is not possible. The great -forswear themselves in nothing. Depart.” - -So he said: “Her gates are guarded; for she is a king’s daughter. A man -may have no secret speech with her.” - -And Indra answered: “But that may you! Fear not. Depart.” - -And as the divine voice ceased, the Prince stood in the inmost chamber -of Damayanti. He knew not how; yet he was there. - -And his eyes swam and his heart fluttered within him; for she sat with -her maids like a goddess and his heart knew her. Beautiful was she and -yet more than beautiful; for all grace, all love shone about her as the -light surrounds the moon in her interlunar caves. So a mild radiance -filled the air about the Princess and moved as she moved, going with -her. - -Now, when these ladies beheld a man standing in their presence, they -sprang up like frightened deer, each grasping the other for protection -and gathering about the Princess to shield her, so great was their fear. -Then, seeing the kindliness of his beauty and the nobility of his brows, -these lovely ones gathered courage and they saluted him with timidity, -murmuring: “Aho, his grace! Aho, his beauty! What is he? Who?” - -But the Princess, her heart fluttering like a leaf in the wind, stood -higher than the rest and spoke thus: “Noble Prince—for by a faultless -body I judge you royal—how have you come thus suddenly like a God? -Surely this would anger my father. Have you no fear of his wrath?” - -But there was love in her voice and with love the Prince answered: “O -Most Lovely, I am Nala of Nishada, and I am the herald of the gods. For -to your choosing come the Four, almighty, heaven-shining—Indra the King -of the Clouds, Agni of the Fire, Varuna of the Waters, and he whom to -name is fear, Yama, the Lord of Death. And these will that you choose -one among them to be your immortal lord, and it is by their power that I -stand before you. Who am I to be the messenger of the Great Ones? Now -judge what is well; for this is an honour to shake the soul of a woman.” - -So Damayanti bowed her fair head in reverence, hearing the gods named, -and having done obeisance, she raised her head and spoke: “Yet, O -Prince, is my heart set on you and I am faithful. The white swan was my -messenger and to you he bore my love. It is for your sake only that the -kings are bidden to my swayamvara, but I have already chosen. Even now -the maidens make ready the garland that I would hang about your neck. O -Prince of Men, O Flame of Strength and Knightliness, what says your -heart? For me, I choose your arms or death. There is no other way.” - -And he, sighing bitterly, said: “With the very Gods awaiting you, how, -Princess, should you choose a man? And what am I but dust beneath their -feet? But you, O lady, choosing one of these excelling Gods, shall -escape all death and mortality and reign shining beside him throughout -the ages; for immortal flowers do not wither, and death and time are -unknown to such as these. Sit therefore enthroned above us. Choose and, -choosing, be divine.” - -But she replied in haste and weeping: “Before these mighty Gods I bow. -To them I address my prayers, but you I choose—you only will I take for -my husband. You only. What to me is immortal life if I have not you?” - -And her body trembled like a bamboo in the wind, while he replied: “Here -being their messenger, I may not speak for myself. Duty and reverence -hold the door of my lips. Yet if the time come when in honour I may -speak, then will I utter what lies in my heart. May that time come!” - -“May it come!” said the Princess and dashed the tears from her eyes, and -like a queen she stood and said: “In full presence of my father and of -the kings let these Divine Ones enter, and, O Prince, who are the light -of my sad eyes, enter you, too, and I, a free maiden, will choose -freely. And to you, what blame? For it is I who choose and the gods know -all.” - -So he returned to the Gods and, sighing, told what had befallen, bidding -them to the swayamvara of Damayanti, the Consumer of Hearts. So the -Shining Ones knew that her heart was set upon Nala of Nishada. - -Now, on an auspicious day and in the right quarter of the moon, the -swayamvara was held in a mighty court surrounded by golden pillars bound -with garlands, and with royal seats set for the suitors. And closing it -in was a great gatehouse with guards. - -Through the gates passed the kings to their places, and what a sight was -there as these noblest of the earth approached! How should a woman -choose among them? Crowned were they with odorous blossoms pressed down -upon their dark locks. Lordly jewels swung in their ears. Some were -rough in majesty, great-thewed, and the muscles stood out upon them like -cords. Some were delicate in strength like bows of the archer Gods, but -splendid kings were all, proud and fierce of aspect, fit spouses for -such beauty; and in a ring they sat, their eyes glittering and fixed -upon the way that Damayanti should enter, desiring that loveliness as -the very crown jewel of their state. But none saw the Gods. - -And into that ring of set faces entered the Princess, unveiled and -pacing like a deer, and on her right hand her brother Danta, and the -garland of choosing on her arm, and when she entered all held their -breath, so more than mortal fair she seemed, and they knew that the half -was not told them. - -So, with her soul set on Nala of Nishada, the Princess Damayanti went by -the kings, and, as she passed each one, his face darkened as when a -cloud crosses the sun and the world is grey. So at last she stood before -Nala and raised her eyes under the cloud of her beautifully bent lashes, -and fear and pain shot through her tender heart like an arrow, for lo, -the Four Shining Ones had condescended to take the earthly shape of Nala -as they stood beside him, so that they might try the maid and she not -know her love. There were five Nalas, and which was her own she could in -no way tell, for each one bore his very face, his very form. So the Gods -walk disguised, and who shall know them? - -Then, sore perplexed, trembling in her great fear and reverence, she -sought, meditating, to recall the signs by which the Gods may be -discerned when they assume flesh. But of these none could she see, and -the five remained immovable as she stood before them and in silence the -kings watched what would be. - -So, seeing no help in herself or anywhere on earth, that lovely lady -joined her palms and, raising her lotus-eyes, spoke thus: “O Divine -Ones, I heard the swan and chose my lord, and by that sincerity which I -have kept in all faith and honour, I call upon your greatness, O Mighty, -who for a while have blinded my eyes, to show my King to me! Appear, O -Protectors of the World, in your proper shape, that I may do such -reverence as mortals owe to Gods; and reveal him, mortal, but mine own.” - -Being thus called upon in the strength of a pure woman, straightway the -Gods, dropping all disguise, disclosed their beauty. And immediately she -knew them; for their sacred feet touched not the earth but hung a span’s -length above it in the air, and their forms of crystal essence cast no -shadow. No sweat was beaded on their pure, eternal brows, and their -crowns of flowers in radiance cast back the sun’s beams nor drooped in -the heat. And neither wavered their shining eyes, fixed upon the -Princess, nor did the lids flicker, and in motionless majesty the -Immortal Gods stood there. - -And beside them stood Nala, very weary and foredone with grief and pain. -His shadow lay black before him in the fierce sun, the sweat hung thick -upon his brows where the faded flowers drooped. Beautiful, wearied and -mortal, he stood beside the Immortal Gods. - -So Damayanti looked upon those unchanging faces, in which was neither -sorrow nor anger, for they sit above the thunder; and they regarded her, -as it were unseeing, yet seeing all things, as do the holy images, and -in their divine hearts was no love at all. So she passed them by and -hung the perfumed garland round the bowed neck of her love, and in her -voice of music took him to be her lord. - -And he said this: “O Lovely—O Faithful, since before Gods and men you -have chosen me, unworthy, true man will I be and faith and honour will I -keep while the breath is in my nostrils.” - -So together they worshipped the Four, while all the kings and princes -cried aloud: “_Sadhu!_”—“Well done!” For there was none but rejoiced in -the beauty and faithfulness of these two. - -So the Immortal Gods, standing in that presence, gave lordly gifts to -the pair. And Indra, the Cloudy God, gave this: that, when Nala should -perform sacrifice, he should with mortal eyes see the visible God and -behold him unafraid. And Agni, the Lord of Fire, gave this: that at all -times he would come at the call of Nala. And this is a great gift. And -Varuna, the King of Waters, gave this: that at the word of Nala of -Nishada the waters should rise and fall, obedient. But Yama, the Lord of -Death, gave two gifts; and of these the first was to walk steadfastly in -the ways of righteousness; and the second (let it not be despised!) was -to be skilful in preparing food. And in after times by strange chance -did this prove a great and goodly gift. - -Thus was the marrying of Nala, King of Men, with Damayanti, Pearl of -Women. - -Reverence to that Lord of Elephant Trunk to whom obstacles are as -nothing, and to those Four Shining Ones who showed compassion, their -ears being open to the prayer of purity. - - - - - THE HIDDEN ONE - - - - - THE HIDDEN ONE - - -(The heroine of this story was a Princess of the great Mogul dynasty of -Emperors in India. She was granddaughter of Shah-Jahan and the lovely -lady of the Taj Mahal, and daughter of the Emperor Aurungzib whose -fanaticism was the ruin of the dynasty. The Princess’s title was -Zeb-un-Nissa—Glory of Women. She was beautiful and was and is a famous -poet in India, writing under the pen-name of Makhfi—the Hidden One. Her -love adventures were such as I relate, though I have taken the liberty -of transferring the fate of one lover to another. - -For her poems, which I quote, I use the charming translations by J. -Duncan Westbrook, who has written a brief memoir of this fascinating -Princess. She was a mystic of the Sufi order and her verses “The Hunter -of the Soul,” which I give, strangely anticipate Francis Thompson’s -“Hound of Heaven”, in their imagery. The poems not specified as hers are -a part of my story.) - -The office of hakim (physician) to the Mogul Emperors being hereditary -in my family from the days of Babar the conquering Emperor, I was -appointed physician to the Padshah known as Shah-Jahan, and when his -Majesty became a Resident in Paradise (may his tomb be sanctified!) my -office was continued by his Majesty Aurungzib, the Shahinshah, and rooms -were bestowed on me in his palace, and by his abundant favour the health -of the Begams (queens) in the seclusion of his mahal was placed in the -hands of this suppliant and I came and went freely in my duties and was -enlightened by the rays of his magnanimity. And my name is Abul Qasim. - -But of all that garden of flowers, the Begams and Princesses, there was -one whom my soul loved as a father loves his child, for she resembled -that loveliest of all sweet ladies, her father’s mother, she who lies -buried by Jumna River in the divine white beauty of the Taj Mahal. (May -it be sanctified to her rest!) In my Princess’s sisters, it is true I -have seen a flash now and again of that lost beauty, but in her it abode -steadfast as a moon that knows no change and at her birth she received -the name of Arjemand after that beloved lady, whose death clouded the -universe so that its chronogram gives the one word “Grief.” But the -child also received the title of Zeb-un-Nissa—Glory of Women, and such -this resplendent Princess most truly was. - -And surely the prayer for resemblance was granted by the bounty of -Allah, for she grew into womanhood dark, delicious as a damask rose, -enfolding the hidden heart of its perfume in velvet leaves, a soft -luxuriant beauty that stole upon the heart like a blossom-bearing breeze -and conquered it insensibly. Of her might it be said: - -“For the mole upon thy cheek would I give the cities of Samarkand and -Bokhara,” and a poet of Persia, catching a glimpse of her as she walked -in her garden, cried aloud in an ecstasy of verse: - - “O golden zone that circles the Universe of Beauty, - It were little to give the earth itself for what thou circlest.” - -Yet, this surprising loveliness was the least of her perfections. - -But how shall this suppliant who is but a man describe the spell of her -charm? Allah, when he made man and laid the world at his feet, resolved -that one thing should be hidden from his understanding, that still for -all his knowledge he should own there is but one Searcher of Secrets. -And the heart of this mystery is woman, and if she be called the other -half of man it is only as the moon reflects the glory of her lord the -sun in brilliance, though (as a wise Hindu pandit told me for truth) she -has a cold and dark side which is always unknown to him, where alone she -revolves thoughts silent, cold, and dangerous. Therefore to sift her in -her secrecies is a foolhardy thing, and not in vain is it written by -Aflatoun (Plato), the wise man of Greece, that the unhappy man who -surprised a goddess bathing in the forest was rent in pieces by his own -hounds. - -Yet this feat must be attempted for if there is a thing it concerns man -to know it is the soul of this fair mystery who moves beside him and -surrenders Heaven to him in a first kiss and the bitterness of the hells -in a last embrace. - -Therefore I essay the history of this Princess, the Glory of Women, who -was an epitome of her sex in that she was beautiful, a dreamer, a poet, -and on the surface sweet in gentleness as a summer river kissing its -banks in flowing, but beneath—— - -I write. - -Seeing her intelligence clear as a sword of Azerbajan, her exalted -father resolved that his jewel should not be dulled by lack of polishing -and cutting, and he appointed the wise lady Miyabai to be her first -teacher. At the age of seven she knew the Koran by heart, and in her -honour a mighty feast was made for the army and for the poor. As she -grew, aged and saintly tutors were appointed, from whom she absorbed -Arabic, mathematics and astronomy, as a rose drinks rain. No subject -eluded her swift mind, no toil wearied her. Verses she wrote with -careless ease in the foreign tongue of Arabia, but hearing from an Arab -scholar that in a single line the exquisite skill betrayed an Indian -idiom, she discarded it instantly because she would have perfection and -wrote henceforward in her own tongue—Persian. - -No pains were spared upon this jewel, for the Emperor desired that its -radiance should be splendid throughout Asia, yet her limit was drawn, -and sharply. For in her young pride of learning she began a commentary -on the holy Koran, and hearing this, he sternly forbade it. A woman -might do much in her own sphere, he wrote, but such a creature of dust -may not handle the Divine. - -I, Abul Qasim, was with her when the imperial order reached her and saw -her take the fair manuscript and obediently tear it across, desiring -that the rent leaves be offered to the Shadow of God in token of -obedience. But those dark and dangerous eyes of hers were not obedient -beneath the veiling of silken lashes, and turning to me, to whom she -told her royal heart, she said; - -“What the hand may not write the heart may think, and in the heart is no -Emperor. It is free,” and leaning from the marble casement she looked -down into the gliding river and said no more. - -Yet the Emperor made amends, and noble, as far as his light led him. Not -for a woman the mysteries of the faith of Islam that he held of all -things the greatest, but, fired by the praises of her tutors, he sent -throughout India, Persia and Kashmir for poets worthy of this -poet-Princess and bid them come to Delhi and Agra and there dwell that a -fitting company be made for her. - -So, veiled like the moon in clouds, curtained and attended, the Princess -Arjemand was permitted to be present at tournaments in the palace where -the weapons were the wit and beauty of words, when quotations and -questions were flung about as it might be handsful of stars, and a line -given be capped with some perfect finish of the moment’s prompting and -become a couplet unsurpassable, and very often it was the soft voice -from behind the golden veil that capped the wisest and completed the -most exquisite, and recited verses that brought exclamations from the -assembled poets. - -“Not even Saadi (may Allah enlighten him!) nor Jalalu’d-din Rumi (may -his eyes be gladdened in Paradise) excelled this lady in the perfumed -honey of their words.” So with one voice they cried. - -And this was not homage to the daughter of the Protector of the -Universe. No indeed! for death has not washed out her name with the cold -waters of oblivion and now that she is no more beautiful nor daughter of -the Emperor her verse is still repeated where the poets and saints meet -in concourse. - -It will be seen that her life in the Begam Mahal (the Palace of the -Queens) must needs be lonely, for there was none among the princesses -who shared her pleasures, and their recreation in languidly watching the -dancers or buying jewels and embroideries and devouring sweetmeats -wearied her as sorely. But she had one friend, Imami, daughter of Arshad -Beg Khan, and this creature of mortality who writes these words was also -accounted her friend though unworthy to be the ground whereon she set -her little foot. - -Day after day did the Lady Arjemand with Imami write and study, and the -librarians of the Emperor had little peace because of the demand of -these ladies for the glorious manuscripts and books collected by her -ancestors from all parts of the earth. - -They sat and the walls echoed to the low note of her voice as she read -and recited and so beautiful were the tones of my Princess that I have -seen the water stand in the eyes of those who heard her recite her own -verses or those of the great Persians. It was a noble instrument ranging -from the deepest notes of passion to the keen cry of despair, and I -would listen unwearied while the day trod its blossomed way from dawn to -sunset in the Palace gardens. Great and wonderful was this new palace of -the Emperor with tall lilies inlaid in the pure marble in stones so -precious that they might have been the bosom adornments of some lesser -beauty. Palms in great vases brought by the merchants of Cathay made a -green shade and coolness for two fountains—the one of the pure waters -of the canal, the other of rose-water, and they plashed beside a -miniature lake of fretted marble rocks sunk in the floor where white -lotuses slept in the twilight of the calm retreat. Such was the chamber -of the daughter of the Padshah. - -But of all the jewels the Princess was the glory. - -Surely with small pains may the Great Mogul’s daughter be a beauty, but -had she been sold naked in the common market-place this lady had brought -a royal price. - -Toorki and Persian and Indian blood mingled in her and each gave of its -best. The silken dark hair braided about her head was an imperial crown. -From the well-beloved lady who lies in the Taj Mahal (may Allah make -fragrant her memory), she had received eyes whose glance of slow -sweetness no man, not even the men of her own blood (excepting only her -stern father), could resist, and of her rose-red lips half sensuous, -half child-like, might it be said - -“Their honey was set as a snare and my heart a wandering bee, -Clung and could not be satisfied, tasted and returned home never more.” - -The imperial Mogul women were indeed the jewels of the world, because -the beauties of Asia were chosen to be their mothers. The net of the -Emperors swept wide, and I, who in virtue of my age and faithful service -have seen, testify that there was none like them, and the loveliest of -all was fit but to serve my Princess kneeling. Shall not the truth be -told? Of the soul within that delicious shrine her deeds must tell. - -Now as I have written she sat with Imami by the little lake, and I in a -marble recess by one of the great latticed windows that looks down on -Jumna river and on the other side over the city of Shahjahanabad, new -and luminous in magnificence. In all the world else are no such palace -and city. At this moment she read aloud a letter from her father -Aurungzib concerning the memoirs of her ancestor the Emperor Babar who -founded their dynasty in India, a book written by his own hand and -religiously preserved in the Mogul archives, and she read it with anger -because when she demanded this book from the librarian, the Padshah -hearing wrote thus: - -“Happy Daughter of Sovereignty. There is one manner of life for men, who -are the rulers, and for women, who are the slaves. It seems you go too -far. What has a daughter of our House to do with our ancestor -Zah-r-ud-din Muhammed Babar, the resident in Paradise? I have granted -much already. Plant not the herb of regret in the garden of affection. -He writes as a man for men. The request is refused. Recall the verse of -the poet: - - “‘Ride slowly and humbly, and not in hurrying pride - For o’er the dusty bones of men, the creature of dust must ride.’ - -“What an Emperor writes is not suitable for the Princesses of his House. -His duty is rule; theirs, obedience.” - -It was a discouragement but a command, and another had laid the finger -of obedience on the lips of silence, but, taking counsel with her heart, -this Princess did not so. - -She called to me for her pen and wrote in answer: - -“Exalted Emperor, Shahinshah, Shadow of God, King of the world, Refuge -of the needy, father of the body of this creature of mortality, be -pleased to hear this ignorant one’s supplication. Surely you have fed my -mind on the bee’s-bread of wisdom, and from your own royal lips have I -learnt that the words of our ancestor (upon whom be the Peace!) are full -of flavour and laughter, generous and kind, shining with honour and the -valour of our family. Now, since this is the root whence sprang your -auspicious Majesty’s rule, should not a humble daughter triumph in it? -True is it that I am your female slave, yet may this worthless body bear -one day a son to transmit your likeness to the prostrate ages, and since -we do not breed lions from lambs, his mother should carry the laughter -and fire of her race like a jewel in the mine of her soul. I make my -petition to the Padshah, the holiest of Emperors.” - -“It will be granted me,” said the Princess reading these letters aloud -to Imami and to me, “because of that last word—the holiest. He values -that title more than to be called the Shahinshah. And with all my heart -I would it were otherwise.” - -“And why, high Lady?” cried Imami in sheer astonishment. “Surely the -Padshah is a saint and his deeds and words will shine in Paradise. It is -blessed to be devout.” - -“I know little of Paradise, but I know, and my father might know if he -studied the life of Akbar the Great, his great-grandfather, that to be -so bitter a saint in our Mohammedan faith that he insults and persecutes -every other is to break our dynasty to powder. Consider of it, Imami, as -I do. Have you read the Acts of Akbar Padshah the greatest sovereign -that ever reigned? Were I emperor in India thus and thus I would do.” - -“Glory of Women, may your condescension increase! What did Akbar -Padshah?” said Imami, joining her hands, but I said nothing because I -knew. - -“Though he was born Moslem yet he honoured all the Faiths, knowing in -his wisdom that the music is One and the dogmas but the foolish words -that man in his ignorance sets to it. All faiths are true, and none!” - -The blood almost fell from my face as I heard her, because had these -words been carried to the Emperor not even her rank, not even her -daughterhood, could have saved the Princess. With Imami and me she was -safe, but in a palace a bird of the air may carry the matter. - -“Yes!” she went on, laughing coldly, “Akbar Padshah had in all ways the -tastes of Solomon the Wise and his Begam Mahal (Palace of the Queens) -was a garden of beauty. But observe! The Queens were chosen from every -faith and each had the right to worship as she would. There were Indian -princesses who adored Shiva the Great God and Krishna the Beloved. There -was the Fair Persian who worshipped the Fire as Zoroaster taught, and -there were ladies of the faith of our Prophet more than can be counted. -Whereas in the zenana of my imperial father——” - -She paused, and Imami continued with gravity that concealed a smile: - -“The Begams recite the holy Koran all day, as becomes the ladies of the -Emperor who says that he sighs for the life of a faquir.” - -“And would he had it!” cried the Princess with passion, “for every day -discontent grows among the Hindus that are taxed, beaten, and despised -only because they hold the faith of their fathers. Is there one of them -employed about the court or in the great offices? Not any. Whereas the -Emperor Akbar in his deep wisdom made them as one with ourselves and -thus built up a mighty Empire that my father with holy hands destroys -daily.” - -“O Brilliant Lady, for the sake of the Prophet, be silent!” I said, for -indeed she terrified me by her insight. It is better for a woman that -she should not know, or, knowing, keep silence. “If these words were -carried to the Padshah——” - -“I should at the least be imprisoned and never more see the light of -day— Well, one may be a devotee out of the Faith as in it, and like -Akbar Padshah, I am the devotee of Truth who shuts her fair eyes on no -faith that men hold in humbleness of heart. And were it policy only, is -it not madness to disgust and terrify the countless millions of the -Hindus upon whom our throne is carried? The end is sure.” - -“What is the end?” asked Imami in a whisper. - -“Misery for himself—though that matters little, for he will take it as -the robe of martyrdom from the hand of Allah, but ruin for the Mogul -Empire in India. O that I were a man!” - -Her face lit up into such pride and valour as she spoke that I wished it -also, for I knew that her words were true as truth. But in India a woman -can do nothing. It is little wonder I trembled for my Princess. - -A picture of her Imperial father lay on the low table at her elbow, -painted by a Persian artist of fame, and beautiful as a jewel in its -small brilliant colours, and looking upon it one might see the Kismet of -the Emperor in every feature. Eyes stern but sad, the narrow brows and -close lips of the man who sees not life as it is but as his own thought -of it, bounded by those high narrow brows that overweighted the lower -part. The head of the Emperor was surrounded like that of a saint with a -golden halo and his stern eyes were fixed on some vision invisible to -others. The jaw was weak but fine, and of all dangerous things on earth -beware the strength of a weak man in the grip of his belief. The -Princess looked at it, and then at me: - -“The Emperor (may Allah enlarge his reign) should have lived in the time -of the Prophet and have been the Sword in his right hand. He is born -centuries too late. It is policy now that carries all before it. O could -I speak my mind to him, for my brothers dare not, but he and I are -worlds apart and in his presence I am silent.” - -I sighed. Not his throne, nor his children, nor his women, nor aught on -earth weighed for one grain of sand against the Pearl of the Faith. True -is it that the Emperor Akbar followed the Vision also but with eyes how -wide and clear!—knowing this for certain, that mortal man _cannot_ -know, that Truth is a bird flying in the skies and lets fall but a -feather to earth here and there. So he made for himself a faith that -held the quintessence of all the faiths, and had his sons been like to -him—but past is past. They were not, and they broke his great heart. - -So I said, bowing very low: - -“Princess, when the happy day comes that you must wed you shall make -your lord Lord of the World with your wisdom.” - -She laughed, but bitterly. - -“O, I have lovers! For one, Suleiman, my cousin, son of the brother whom -the Emperor slew because he stood too near the throne. By report I knew -what he was, but I saw him and spoke with him——” - -“My Princess, and how?” I asked in great surprise, knowing that his -presence in the Begam Mahal would have been death. - -She looked at me with large calm eyes. - -“My faithful servant, have you come and gone so long about the Begam -Mahal and have not known that all things are possible? Prince Suleiman -was veiled like a woman, and like a woman he stood where you sit, and I -saw his face and we spoke together. Should not cousins meet who may be -man and wife? And I have loved his father, Prince Dara, very much, who -was learned and good.” - -I trembled again when I heard, for had the Emperor guessed that she had -done this thing what hope for her? His three brothers had he -slaughtered, and the Prince Suleiman was doomed. - -“And he saw your face, O Brilliant Lady?” - -“No, and not for fear’s sake but because I liked him not at all. He said -‘O Envy of the Moon, lift up your veil that I may enjoy the marvel of -your beauty’ and I sang this verse I had made to my lute.” - -She caught up her lute that lay beside her and sang, - - “I will not lift my Veil, - For if I did, who knows? - The bulbul might forget the rose, - The Brahman worshipper - Adoring Lakshmi’s grace - Might turn, forsaking her, - To see my face; - My beauty might prevail. - Think how within the flower - Hidden as in a bower - Her fragrant soul must be, - And none can look on it. - So me the world shall see - Only within the verses I have writ. - I will not lift the Veil. - -“And the fool caught me and would have torn it,” she added, “but Imami -restrained him, and he flung from us like a woman in temper as in dress. -A contemptible creature!” - -“But Lady of Beauty, what had you against him?” - -“Do I not know all that goes on in this city? Do I not know that Prince -Suleiman spends his days and nights in Shaitanpur (Devilsville, the -quarter of pleasure) and was I to show my face to a man reeking from the -embraces of the bazaar? No, I am Makhfi (the Hidden One) and hidden I -will remain for such as he. I will be no rival to Peri Mahal the dancer -and her like.” - -And even as she ended a low voice at the curtain that veiled the -entrance asked for admission and when she granted it, the heavy silk was -drawn aside and a tall veiled woman entered. The Princess did not look -up but I saw Imami’s eyes fix as if startled. - -“Her slave prays for a word with the Marvel of the Age whose mind is so -lovely that it outshines even her fair face and her face so beautiful, -that it is the lamp that permits the light of her soul to shine -through.” - -“Warm for a woman!” said the Princess, and looked straight at the -new-comer who stood salaaming with the utmost humility. She added -impatiently: - -“There is no need of this ceremony, lady. Remove your veil. The good -physician Abul Qasim is privileged to see the faces of all in the Begam -Mahal.” - -In a flash the veil was torn off and a man’s face appeared beneath -it—young, bold, and handsome with the high features of the Imperial -House, a splendid dissolute young man with the down black on his upper -lip like the black astride the young swan’s bill. Prince Suleiman, the -son of Dara the Emperor’s brother. - -“Ha, daughter of my uncle!” he cried,— “Did I not wager, did I not -swear, that I would see that hidden beauty and now I see it face to -face. Poets have sung it and painters praised it, but their words and -their colours were lies for they could not utter the truth. And having -seen I entreat for my father’s sake, for love’s sake, that it may be -mine.” - -He made towards her eagerly, wholly disregarding Imami and me. I looked -to see her confused or angry, but she spoke with a most misleading calm. - -“Exalted cousin, you have won your wager and your bride. If her embrace -is cold it is at least constant and——” - -“Cold, with those burning lips of rose, those glowing eyes? O Loveliest, -Divinest, grant me one kiss for earnest if you would not have me die at -your feet.” - -I saw her sign with her hand to Imami who glided away, flattening -herself against the wall as if terrified, then she spoke serenely. - -“Exalted cousin, when were you last in Shaitanpur?” - -It stopped him like a lightning flash. He stood arrested on the marble -before her face. - -“I know nothing of Shaitanpur,” he said, breathless. - -“No? Nor of the dancer Peri Mahal and her house with the courtyard of -roses, nor of the song she sings?” - -Again she caught up her lute and sang in a low voice, - - “Black bee, strong bee, the honey-eater, - Plunder my perfume, seek my heart - Cling to me, ravage me, make me sweeter, - Tear the leaves of the rose apart.” - -He stared, his eyes slowly dilating. That the daughter of the Emperor -should sing the song of the bazaar—the song of the light women—! Then -it emboldened him. He threw himself forward to seize her hand. - -“Maker of verses, this is a rose of your own garden. Till now I never -heard it, but it speaks of love. You shall not ask me twice. My rose, my -pearl, my star!—” He caught the hem of her veil. Now I knew well from -her eyes that he rushed on his fate, but it was written in the book of -his destiny and what is written who can avert? - -She drew back a little and looked at him with soft eyes—wells of -delicious darkness, the swelling curves of her lovely form a temptation -for true believers, and her lips smiling a little as if from delight at -their own sweetness. And indeed her voice was gentle as moonbeams and as -caressing, as though she could sacrifice all to please the man whom she -exalted with the sight of her. - -“Fortunate cousin, I am a weak woman. How dare I face the wrath of the -Emperor? He did not love your father. He does not love your father’s -son, yet if he did——” - -She drooped her head a little as if with a soft shame that overwhelmed -her in the depths of modesty. O very woman, divine yet a child!— She -had turned wisdom into folly with a glance. And he trembling, and with -eyes fixed, stammered out: - -“Alas, I have dreamed of your sweetness and what is the dream to the -truth? I am drowned in it. O give it to me; make it mine that in life -and death it may enfold me and that I may never again behold a lesser -light, having seen the ineffable.” - -And he caught her hand passionately and drew her towards him, she -yielding gently and slowly, resisting a very little, and looking at him -as if with compassion. - -And very softly in a voice like the breathing of a flute she said: - -“O my cousin, how should we face the wrath of the Emperor?” as though -all her soul were in that question. - -And he, kissing her hands with frenzy, said in broken words: - -“Ah, Moon of my delight that knows no wane, let me but watch with you -through the starry hours of one night, and then, then if the Padshah’s -will be to slay me, I shall at least have lived.” - -“And I also,” she said, looking down like the feminine incarnation of -modesty, so that enraptured he flung his arms about the yielding -softness of her most exquisite form and kissed her on the lips as a -thirsty man in the desert grasps the cup nor can sever his mouth from -it. And when he would permit her to speak she leaned her head backward -to gain space, and she said: - -“What is my lord’s will with his slave? And in what shall I obey him?” - -Now I, standing in the recess would have warned him, if I could, that -not thus—O not thus, does the proudest and wisest of women abandon -herself to such as he! For I had pity on his youth and the manly beauty -of him, and the Imperial blood that he shared with her. But who was this -creature of dust to obstruct the design of the Imperial Princess? And -indeed even I wavered and was uncertain that I guessed her meaning, with -such veiled submissive sweetness did she hold his hand in hers and touch -it to her lovely brows. - -And trembling like a man in a fever, he replied. - -“O darling little slave, since you give me the right to command what is -wholly mine, I say this— Let my slave, whose slave I am, expect me -to-night when the moonlight touches the western corner of the -Divan-i-Am, and I will come to this chamber of bliss, and my life, my -soul, are in the hand of my slave whose feet I kiss.” - -And throwing himself on the marble like a worshipper he kissed the -flower-soft feet that showed like bare gold beneath the hem of her robe, -and so rising to his knee, looked up at her as an idolater at the -goddess vouchsafed to his eyes. - -But she looked beyond him at the curtain that veiled the door. It lifted -to a hidden hand, and Imami stood there, ash-pale, in her hand a dish of -gold, and standing upon it a great goblet of jewelled glass with -pomegranate sherbet brimming in it rose-red and rose-petals floating on -the surface and beside it two cups of gold flashing with diamond sparks, -and on her knee she offered it to the Princess, who took the goblet and -a cup smiling. - -“Fortunate cousin, since this is so, and I, my father’s best-beloved -child, will petition him to grant me my heart’s desire, let us drink the -cup of betrothal in the presence of the Hakim Abul Qasim and the lady -Imami. Heart of my heart, I pledge you!” and setting the blossom of her -lips to the jewelled rim she drank, and filled the other cup for him, -and still kneeling before her breathless with adoration, he took the cup -in both his hands, and I watched and could say no word because her -purpose was clear to me and I knew well that of all women on earth she -was the last to endure the insult of his presence. And Imami knelt by -the door,—her face like ivory against the heavy gold curtain. Now, as -he set his lips to the cup, suddenly Imami sprang to her feet and -tottered back against the sculptured marble and with scarce breath to -fill her voice—— - -“The Emperor comes,” she said, and fell again on her knees at the door, -hiding her face in her hands. - -I saw the sickening terror that struck the colour from the cheeks and -lips of the lover. He knelt there with a glassy countenance like a man -in the clutch of a nightmare who cannot flee from the advancing -doom—his limbs weighted with lead, his heart with the pressure of an -exceeding horror. But Glory of Women caught him by the hand. - -“Exalted cousin, there is but one way from these rooms, and the Emperor -closes it. Fly to the room beyond my bed-chamber, the room of the marble -bath, and hide where you can while I hold him in talk. Allah hafiz! (God -protect you!) Go!” - -And she pushed him from her, and he fled. Then, most singular to see, -she composed her veil, glancing in the mirror set in silver that was the -gift of the Portuguese priests, and turned to the door, and as she did -so the curtain was lifted and Aurungzib Padshah entered and Imami -prostrated herself and I also, but the Princess Arjemand knelt. - -Now I know not how this should be, but in a room where great events have -just happened it is as if the waves of passion beat about the walls and -waft the garments of those who have been present, and it seemed to my -guilty heart as though the very flowers enamelled on the marble cried -aloud, - -“Majesty, there is a man—a man in hiding.” - -And certainly the Padshah halted and looked with suspicion from one to -the other of us. He was ever a man of suspicion, unlike the easy humour -of his father Shah-Jahan, and the half drunken good-nature (shot with -frightful angers) of his grandfather Jahangir. Aurungzib Padshah was a -small man, dark exceedingly, with veiled eyes and shut lips, and never -have I seen him warmed by any emotion of love, pity, fear, but always -calm, cold, self-collected and austere. For it is well known that his -only care was religion, and to this he sacrificed his all. - -So looking hard at the kneeling Glory of Women he said coldly, - -“In the name of the most beneficent and merciful God, what is this -disturbance? Speak, exalted daughter, Princess of the family of -chastity. It is revealed to this suppliant at the throne of Allah that -there is a hidden thing in these chambers. Speak. What is it?” - -And kneeling, my Princess answered. - -“May joy attend my exalted father, the adorner of the gardens of -happiness, the decorator of the rose-parterre of enjoyment! There is but -one hidden thing in these chambers, and it is your unworthy daughter, -who is known by your august favour as Makhfi, the Hidden One.” - -I saw the eyes of the Padshah fix on the golden dish that lay on the -marble with one cup emptied of the pomegranate sherbet and the other -half emptied, the sherbet running in a red stream like blood along the -marble. - -“This was set down in haste!” he said through clipped lips. - -“In haste, O Glory of Allah!” said the Princess with the wet beads -clamming the silken tendrils on her forehead. “I drank and was about to -drink the second when your auspicious feet blessed the threshold.” - -“You are thirsty, happy daughter of sovereignty? Then drink the -remainder. You have my permission.” - -I saw the gleam in either black eye of him as he spoke, watching her -sidelong. She lifted the cup to her lips with a hand that shook so that -it rattled against her teeth, though she struggled to command herself. - -“No, do not drink, royal daughter. It is stale,” he said, still standing -and smiling coldly. And the Princess answered with quivering lips: - -“Will not the Mirror of God be seated and partake of refreshment offered -by the hand of his slave?” - -“Not of that cup and not until I have observed your embroideries and -manuscripts, daughter of high dignity,” the Padshah replied, and -followed by my Princess, Imami still kneeling by the door, and I by the -latticed marble window he walked about the hall and into the chambers -beyond, talking pleasantly to the Princess at his shoulder, and so -returning took his seat on the divan, and she served sherbets and fruits -on a golden dish to his Majesty. - -He was later to attend the Am-Khas, the Hall of Audience, and was -attired kingly. His vest was of white and delicately flowered satin, -with heavy silk and gold embroidery. His cloth-of-gold turban was -aigretted with diamonds great as stars, with a topaz at the base that -shone like the sun. A chain of great pearls hung to his knees, and above -all these jewels was his cold repelling dignity as of a King too great -to be approached even by the favourite child of his pride, and all the -time he sat she knelt before him. - -At length he spoke as if in meditation. - -“Glory of Women, you have grown into beauty like that of the Maids of -Paradise. Your long lashes need no antimony, your eyes are winter stars, -and in that robe of gulnar (pomegranate blossom) you appear like that -princess who bewildered the senses of the mighty Suleiman. [I saw a -quiver pass over her features as she bowed her head beneath the weight -of praise.] Does not the rose long for the nightingale? Does not your -heart, exalted daughter, turn to love?” - -And with her eyes on the ground, she answered. - -“Exhibitor of Perfection, my heart is set on far other matters. If in -this land of good fortune I be remembered as a poet, I ask no more of -destiny save that the rank of the daughter of Emperors be attached to my -name for ever.” - -And he. - -“It is well. Yet marriage must be considered. Fortunate daughter, have -you bathed to-day?” - -And she, deadly pale. - -“Shadow of the benignity of the Creator, no.” - -And with set lips he called to Imami by the door. - -“Hasten, lady, and light the fire beneath the great vessel of water in -the bathing room of the Begam, and I will remain in discourse with her -until it is ready.” - -And Imami casting a fearful glance on the kneeling Princess moved slowly -to the inner chamber, and it is the truth that my soul sickened within -me, for though I knew the young man worthless, and the son of a -dangerous father, yet who could bear this without terror of spirit? And -the Emperor, laying aside his awful Majesty, made his presence sweet as -sunshine in the great chamber of marble, saying: - -“Exalted daughter, it is but seldom we have leisure to relax, and yet -the olfactory of my soul inhales with delight the ambergris-perfumed -breezes of affection and concord, and daily if it were possible would I -enjoy them. Yes, even when absent— - - “‘I sit beside thee in thought, and my heart is at ease, - For that is a union not followed by separation’s pain.’ - -“It is in my mind to move with my ladies and the living family of -dignity and glory to reside for a time at Lahore, and we shall then be -more together, partaking of the irrigation of the rivers of affection.” - -“Great father, you promise me a joy to increase health and exalt -happiness.” - -She swayed as she knelt, and leaned against the divan with closed eyes. - -“Exalted father, the perfume of flowers and of the rose-water fountain -have given me a faintness. May I retire for a moment with the hakim Abul -Qasim to my inner chamber lest I fall at your feet?” - -“It is granted, Glory of Women, and the lady Imami shall recite to me -your latest verses until you return.” - -I came forward making the salutation, and helped the Princess to rise, -she leaning on my aged arm, and the lady Imami took her place unrolling -a manuscript of verses splendid with Persian illuminations in blue and -gold. The Emperor composed himself to listen with pleasure, for it is -well known that all the sovereigns of that mighty line were skilled in -versifying and just critics of _ghazal_ and _suja_. - -And as we moved forward, I supporting her, the Princess breathed in my -ear: - -“I meant his death, but Allah knowing my heart knows I am innocent of -this hideous thing. O Abul Qasim, father of my soul, is there aid in -earth or heaven?” - -But what could I say? Only the Great Physician of the Hidden Dispensary -could assist that unfortunate. And meanwhile the sweet voice of the lady -Imami read aloud the verses of the Princess. - - “O love, I am thy thrall. - As on the tulip’s burning petal glows - A spot yet more intense, of deeper dye, - So in my heart a flower of passion blows, - See the dark stain of its intensity - Deeper than all.” - -And then we lost the words as we moved into the inner chamber. - -Now this inner chamber was all of pearl-pure marble, and in the midst a -deeply sunk bath of marble long and wide and with its walls decorated -with lotuses and their leaves, and a silver pipe led the water to this -from a mighty silver vessel six feet and more in height and of great -capacity, supported on a tripod of sculptured silver, and below it a -place for fire, enclosed and fed with sweet-scented woods and balls of -perfume made of rare gums. And, O Allah most Merciful, there the lady -Imami had kindled fire by command of the Emperor, and within might be -seen the brilliant blue flame licking up the perfumes and crawling like -snakes about the cedar wood below the vessel. And certainly I looked -that the Princess should do some desperate deed for the enlargement of -the man most miserable hidden within the vessel, and releasing her I -stood like a graven image of terror, expecting what she would do. - -She laid her hand on the silver, and amid the crackling of the flames -she said in a clear small voice: - -“You came unsought. You violated the secrecy of the Hidden One. What -then is your duty, exalted cousin?” - -And from within he spoke in a voice—O Allah, most compassionate, grant -that I may never hear such again!—the one word: - -“Silence.” - -And she: - -“It is true. Keep silence if you are my true lover, for the sake of my -honour. For if your voice is heard I am a dead woman. But I too will be -faithful to death.” - -And he answered: - -“On my head and eyes.” - -And by her command I gave her water to drink and applied an essence to -her nostrils, and we left the room, pulling the heavy curtains before -it, and we returned to where the Padshah sat with the pale lady Imami -reading aloud and he smiling in calm content. Seeing us return, he -motioned my Princess to a seat on the divan saying: - -“I would hear your verses of ‘The Lover.’ - -“What is the fate of a lover? It is to be crucified for the world’s -pleasure.” - -And taking the manuscript from the hands of Imami she read aloud: - - “Dust falls within the cup of Kaikobad - And King Jamshid, - Nor recks the world if they were sad or glad, - Or what they did. - - “How many hearts, O Love, thy sword hath slain - And yet will slay! - They bless thee, nor to Allah they complain - At Judgment Day.” - -And so read on steadfastly for the space of an hour, until the Padshah, -replete with the sweetness of the melody, rose from the divan, and said -graciously: - -“May the tree of hereditary affection watered by this hour of converse -grow in leaf and fruit and overshadow us both in peace. Go now, exalted -daughter, and bathe your angelic person and rest with a soul sunned in -the favour of the Emperor.” - -And he went, we attending him to the door of the secluded chambers, and -when we returned, the Princess lay in a dead faint on the divan, and the -fire beneath the great vessel of silver was red and silent, and within -was silence also. - -The courage of Babar the gallant and Akbar the greatly dreaming was not -dead in their descendant and thus in a great self-sacrifice he became a -traveller on the road of non-existence, and I wept for him. - -So the Court moved to Lahore. - -But after this on my Princess came a change hard to be told. - -She had despised the Prince alive. For his death she loved him, and with -a poet’s passion and tenderness mingled with a woman’s. Her sole relief -was in solitude, pouring forth the burning thoughts wherein the phoenix -of her soul was consumed in perfumed flame which will forever kindle the -heart of man to like ecstasies. - -Great Princes sought her, among them Akil Khan, a most beautiful young -man, aglow with courage and splendour. He had seen her, dreaming on the -roof of her pavilion in the dawn, pensive and lovely, clothed in -dawn-colour, her long hair braided with pearls falling about her, and -mad with love, he sent her this one line, awaiting completion: - -“A vision in crimson appears on the roof of the Palace.” - -Kneeling, I implored her to give him some solace, - -“For O, Light of my soul,” said I, “the years drift by like leaves, and -shall this miracle of beauty and of intelligence clear as diamonds lead -its graces to the grave and leave the world no copy? My Princess, my -Princess, have pity on your youth! True, the high Prince died a hero for -the sake of a lady’s honour, yet remember that until then the soul of -him was at home in Devilsville, and not in the rose-gardens of Allah. -You have mourned him long enough: awake now to joy.” - -But she put it gently aside, saying: - -“The soul washed in the lustration of death is pure. What is Shaitanpur -to him now? He has forgotten it. And shall I who accepted the sacrifice, -forget? O, that I had not failed in courage—that I had died with him! -Give me the paper of Akil Khan.” - -And considering the line he had written— - -“A vision in crimson appears on the roof of the Palace,” she wrote -beneath it this line completing the couplet: - -“Neither supplications nor force nor gold can win her.” And so returned -it. - -Yet, gallant man as he was, this did not stifle his hope, and knowing -that in her garden at Lahore she was building a noble marble pavilion, -he entered the garden one day disguising his princeliness under the -garment of a mason, carrying his hod on his shoulder, and passed where -she stood apart watching her girls who were playing at chausar. - -And as he drew near he whispered, - -“In my longing for thee I have become as dust wandering round the -earth,” and she whose soul was fixed as a lonely star, responded -immediately, - -“If thou hadst become as the wind yet shouldst thou not touch a tress of -my hair.” - -So it was always. An embassage was sent from the Shah Abbas of Persia -entreating her hand for Mirza Farukh his son, and the Prince came with -it, a gallant wooer. She dared not at once refuse the insistence of her -father Aurungzib Padshah, and consented that he should come to Delhi -that she might judge of his worthiness. And with a glorious retinue -resembling a galaxy of stars he came, and she feasted the prince in the -pleasure-pavilion in her own garden, and in its marble colonnade with -her own fair hand offered him wine and sweetmeats, but veiled in gold -gauze, so that not one glimpse had he of the hidden eyes. And exalted -with wine and folly he asked for a certain sweetmeat in words which by a -laughing play on words signify—a kiss! - -This, to the proudest of women! One moment she paused and then -haughtily, - -“Ask for what you desire from the slaves of our kitchen,” and so went -straight to her royal father and told him that though face and jewels -were well enough, the man had the soul of a groom under his turban of -honour, and she would have none of him. She had her royal way. - -Raging with foiled pride and desire he sent her this verse, - - “I am determined never to leave this temple. - Here will I bow my head, here will I prostrate myself. - Here will I serve, and here alone is happiness.” - -But he beat against marble, for she returned this answer only: - -“Child, how lightly dost thou esteem this game of love! -Nothing dost thou know of the fever of longing and the fire of separation, - and the burning flame of love!” - -Alas, her heart knew them too well! - -So he went away despairing and that was the last of her suitors. - -Very sad grew my Princess. The dead have more power than the living, and -the clutch of a dead hand chills the blood. She had the soul of a mystic -and in her poems desire for the Eternal Beloved was mingled with love of -him who was now also behind the Veil of non-existence, and I know not -which was more in her thoughts when she wrote with tears that fall and -falling gather, - - “O idle arms, - Never the lost Beloved have ye caressed: - Better that ye were broken than like this - Empty and cold eternally to rest. - - “O useless eyes, - Never the lost Beloved for all these years - Have ye beheld: better that ye were blind - Than dimmed thus by my unavailing tears. - - “O fading rose, - Dying unseen as hidden thou wert born: - So my heart’s blossom fallen in the dust - Was ne’er ordained his turban to adorn.” - -Very strange is the heart of a woman! I, remembering her scorn for this -very Prince and her will to slay him with her own hand, could not at all -commend nor comprehend her passion for him dead whom living she trod as -the dust beneath her feet. She permitted my speech gently, but would -reply only, - -“He loved me and gave his life for me.” And I venturing to rejoin, - -“But O exalted Lady, men will give their lives for a little thing, a -jewel, a worthless intrigue, the slaying of a tiger, and is his -sacrifice worth such a return as yours?” she replied with calm; “Greater -love hath no man than in silence to lay down his life uncheered by -commendation or the joy of battle, and to him I swore fidelity. Should I -change? In his death was the high heart that in life would have grown to -glory—and I broke it.” - -And I said: - -“It is greater love to live for a woman than to die for her and this he -could never have done, for his profligacy and selfishness would have -swept all love to ruin,”—and she, smiling, put this by, as one who has -attained in her own heart to behold the innermost secrets of love. And -which of us was right I cannot now tell. - -But as love rose about her like a tide her thoughts turned more and more -to the Supreme, the Self-Existent,—and this love also consumed her for -He wounded her heart with the august secrets of His beauty, and -perceiving in vision wafts of His sweetness she sank into a deep -melancholy, desiring that to which no earthly passion may attain. So in -this poem she beheld Him as the Hunter of the Soul: - - “I have no peace, the quarry I, a Hunter chases me, - It is Thy memory. - I turn to flee but fall: for over me He casts His snare, - His perfumed hair, - Who can escape Thy chain? no heart is free - From love of Thee.” - -So passioning for the Divine she spent her days in longing, and a great -wisdom came upon her, for even as her mighty father narrowed in vision, -persecuting the Hindus, and breaking the very Empire against the rock of -their tortured faith, so she like the sun at setting illumined all -beliefs, even the lowliest, with her level rays, declaring that where -any prayer is made that place is the mosque and the Kiblah. - -Had that lady been Emperor it is not too much to say she had saved the -Empire. Would to Allah that she had been. But He knows all. - -Yet a better fate was decreed for her for she lived, exhaling love as -the lily its perfume, and departed in a white peace, a gently fading -light like the cresset that for a little illumines the quiet of a tomb, -and this she said in dying, - -“I am the daughter of a King but I have taken the path of renunciation, -and this shall be my glory, as my title signifies that I am the Glory of -Women.” - -This she is, for in India she is remembered by all who burn in the fire -of love, human or divine. - -Yet, since she was a woman and therefore a creature of unreason, must I -condemn her passion for the worthless prince to whom her royal life was -dedicate. - -And here I set down the last words that Makhfi—the Hidden One—wrote -with her dying hand, and they were these— - - “Yet, Makhfi, unveiled is thy secret, - Abroad all thy passion be told, - Who saw not the beauty of Yusuf - When he in the market was sold.” - -and as she lived she died, lamenting that too late she had known his -hidden heart. - -When she was departed a poet of Persia made these verses of her: -concerning the serenity of her spirit: - - “Love sings to himself of love and the worlds dance to that music, - As wise snakes dance to the Charmer playing upon his pipe, - Love gazes on deep waters for ever dreaming his face. - Slay all my senses but hearing that I may immortally listen. - Calm every wave of my soul that it may mirror the Dream.” - -And her father the Emperor, grieving, made her a glorious tomb of marble -domed and pinnacled with gold and the tower and minars roofed with -turquoise tiles. Nay, the very sand of the paths was dust of turquoises, -and about it a glorious garden where her sweet spirit might gladden to -dream in the moonlight, her griefs forgotten, her joys completed in the -ecstasy of union with the One, the Alone. - -And yet—yet—thus wrote my Princess: - - “If on the Day of Reckoning - God saith, ‘In due proportion I will pay - And recompense thee for thy suffering.’ - - “Lo, all the joys of heaven it would outweigh. - Were all God’s gladness poured upon me, yet - He would be in my debt.” - -May the lights of Allah be her testimony and make bright her tomb. - -For I loved her, and pray that her memory may be fragrant when I am -dust. - -And very strange and secret is the heart of a woman. - - - - - THE MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS - - - - - THE MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS - - -(Salutation to the Elephant-Headed God, who is the Remover of Obstacles -and the Giver of discretion, and may he enable his worshipper the Pandit -Gurdit Singh to relate this story with well-chosen words and harmonious -periods that so it may enchain the hearts of all.) - -Of all the lands that smile upon their lover the sun, surely the land of -Kashmir is the loveliest. All round that Valley of Beauty the mountains -stand like the guardians of a great Queen. No harsh winds may ruffle the -lakes, darkly blue as the eyes of the goddess Shri, where the lotuses -dream above their mirrored images in amazement at their own divinity, -for the shields of the eternal snows piercing even the heavens turn -aside all tempests and only a sweet and calm sunshine makes the air -milk-warm. - -And because the beauty that surrounds them is absorbed by the princesses -of Kashmir until they become like the slender-waisted beauties of the -ancient poems and stories of India, radiant as the sun, fair as the full -moon mirrored in a lake dreaming of her own beauty, so are they eagerly -sought by all the Kings from North to South, and great dowries are given -for them with jewels piled high like grain in harvest, and elephants and -garments with beaten gold laid on them such as would dazzle the eyes of -the Queens of other countries. And nothing is too much to give for their -seductive beauties. - -Now, at one time the King of Kashmir had a daughter, his only one,—more -exquisite than dawn blushing on the snows. She had stolen the hue of her -eyes from the blue of the lotus of the hidden lakes, and the delicate -shaping of her face was high craftsmanship of high Gods at the work they -love best. And down to the ankle rolled her midnight hair, braided and -jewelled, and Love’s own honey made her mouth a world’s wonder of rose -and pearl,—and the curves of her sweet body were rounded as the -snowdrifts of Mount Haramoukh and as pure. And even this was not all, -for what is a flower without scent and beauty without charm? But grace -went beside her like an attendant, and attraction that none could resist -was in her glance, and whoso escaped the lure of her eyes would -assuredly fall a victim to the seduction of her sweet laughter so that -only in the protection of the Gods was there safety, and it is known -that even the Gods cease their vigilance where a beautiful woman is -concerned and forget their divinity. - -Now this Princess Amra loved above all things the gardens of her royal -father, and it was her custom, forsaking the Palace, to come for days -with her women to the gardens by the lake, dwelling in the Pavilion of -the Painted Flowers and passing the days in singing and feasting, -wandering beneath the shade of the mighty chinar trees and breathing the -perfume of flowers and the coolness of the high snows. - -So on a certain day she and her ladies wandered through the roses in -beauty so exquisite that the flowers swayed to behold them and the very -waters of the cascades delayed to kiss their feet, and as they did this -there came a message from the King her father that he had betrothed her -to marry the King of Jamu, and the marriage would take place in the -marriage month according to the auspicious calculations of the -astrologers. And hearing this, the Princess stopped in terror beside the -water that falls over the ripple of cut marble, and she said to her -women: - -“O sorrowful day! O fears that beset my heart! I who have never seen any -man save my auspicious father and brothers and the old grey-beard, the -Pundit Ram Lal,—what a fate is this! What do I know of men? How shall I -learn? O, my misery!”—and she sat herself beneath the shade of a great -chinar tree, and became inconsolable, weeping bitterly, and her women -wept with her. - -So passed an hour, and at last her confidante, Lailela, a girl from -Bokhara, having dried her eyes began to look about her, and she saw that -with the written command of the King had come a small object folded in -rose silk and bound with threads of gold, and with the insatiable -curiosity of a woman she said to the weeping Princess: - -“Great Lady, here is a something—I do not know what, but I guess it to -be a bridal gift from his Majesty.” And the Princess took it in her -hands and her ladies gathered about her as stars surround the moon, and -with her slender fingers and nails like little pearls she unthreaded the -knots of gold and the inner treasure was disclosed, and it was a frame -of gold filagreed and set with rubies and diamond sparks, and within it -the portrait of a young man, and written on the back of it: “The King of -Jamu.” The artist, whose skill resembled that of the Creator, had -depicted him seated on his throne of ivory inlaid with gold, and in his -turban blazed that great jewel known as the Sea of Splendour, but these -did not for one moment detain the eye, for he was himself the jewel of -Kings, young, noble, dark of hair and eyes, with amorous lips, proud yet -gentle, and a throat like the column that upholds the world, and limbs -shaped for height and strength and speed. And surely had he been a -water-carrier, men had said, “This is the son of a King.” - -And as the Princess Amra looked she sighed and changed colour, and the -last tear fell from her long lashes upon the portrait, and she dried it -with her gold-bordered veil, and looked and sighed again, and lost in -thought she fell into a deep silence. - -And Lailela said with sympathy: - -“Surely a terrible doom, O Princess! Now had the King been an old man, -kind and paternal, it would but have been passing from the arms of one -father to another. But a young man— O, there is much to fear, and who -shall sound the deeps of their hearts?” - -And the Princess slowly shook her head, not knowing what she did, still -gazing at the portrait, and Lailela continued: - -“Little do we all know men. But I have been told it is safer to -adventure in a jungle of tigers than to take a husband knowing nothing -of their wiles and tyrannies, and it is now my counsel that we should -all declare before the Princess any small knowledge that has reached us, -that she may not go forth utterly unarmed.” - -And all the ladies looked doubtfully at one another, and the Princess -smiled faintly as a moon in clouds, and said: - -“Sisters, it is my command that you do as Lailela has said, for her -counsel is good, and she herself shall begin, for I perceive there is -knowledge behind her lips. Let all now prepare to listen, for we speak -of love.” - -And she laid the portrait on her knees, and Lailela with laughter in her -long eyes but a great gravity of speech, told this story: - -“Now, Princess, this is one of the parables that the Sheikh Ibrahim -related to his daughter, the Lady Budoor, that she might be admonished. -For the damsel was the temptation of the Age, with heavy hips, and brows -like the new moon, and a mouth like the seal of Suleiman, so that the -reason of whoso saw her was captivated by her elegance. But she spoke -little, or of trivial matters, and smiled not at all, relying on her -beauty, which, indeed, was the perfection of the Creator’s handiwork. -May his name be exalted! And her father accosted her, saying: - -“‘Know, O daughter, that Shah Salim had five thousand wives and -concubines of perfect loveliness, with languishing looks, high-bosomed, -and of equal age, a delight to beholders such as astonished the mind. -But the King was wearied because of the dullness of their society and it -so befell that he yawned repeatedly and his jaw became fixed with the -violence of his yawns, nor could the art of the _hakims_ unloose it. And -the Queens and the concubines slapped their faces for grief, and the -Emirs trembled because of the case of the King. - -“‘Now it chanced that the King of Seljuk sent unto Shah Salim a slave -girl from Tabriz, and the merchant who conducted her bore this message, -written on ivory, bound with floss silk, and perfumed with ambergris: -“Know, O King of the Age, that the perfume is not to be judged by the -jar, nor the jewel by its weight, for the perfume is the soul of the -rose, and the secret of the jewel is its fire. Receive, therefore this -gift according to the measure of thy wisdom.” - -“‘But the Shah-in-Shah, speaking with difficulty, for his jaw was held -as in a vise, commanded, saying; “Enclose her with the Queens and the -concubines, for they have brought me to this, and the sum of my wisdom -and experience is that they are all alike, and whoso knows one, knows -all. Yet, first let me behold her, since she is the gift of a King.” - -“‘And they unveiled the damsel, and behold! she was slender as a willow -branch, low-bosomed, green-eyed, and her hair was like beaten bronze, -nor could she for beauty compare with the wives of the King, so that the -beholders marvelled at the gift of the King of Seljuk. - -“‘And she looked upon the King, and, seeing his case, she closed her -eyes until they shone like slits of emerald and laughed aloud until the -Hall of Requests echoed with her laughter, and her voice was like the -flute and such as would bewilder the reason of the sages and cause the -ascetic to stumble in his righteousness, and she could narrate stories -like those of the Sultana Shahrazad (upon whom be the Peace!), and her -effrontery was as the effrontery of the donkey-boys of Damascus. For -there is none greater. Nor did she fear the Shah-in-Shah before whom all -abased themselves. - -“‘So she seated herself before the Wonder of the Age, and, casting down -her eyes, the damsel related to him the true story of the Adventure of -the Lady Amine and the Sage El Kooz. And the heart of the Shah was -dilated and he laughed until there was no strength left in him, and the -_hakims_ thumped his back, fearing that life itself would depart from -him in the violence of his laughter. And his jaw instantly relaxed. So -being recovered, he commanded saying: “Bring hither the artificers of -gold and let them make a chain that shall bind the waist of this slave -to my wrist, for where I go she shall go, that my soul may be comforted -by her narratives and the sweetness of her laughter. For this truly is a -gift worthy of a king. But place guards at the doors of the others.” - -“‘And after consideration and counsel with his Wazir he bestowed upon -the Queens great gifts and returned them to their parents. And there was -a great calm. And he became distracted with love for this slave and they -continued in prosperity and affection until visited by the Terminator of -Delights and Separator of Companions. - -“‘Extolled be He whom the vicissitudes of time change not and who is -alone distinguished by the attributes of Perfection! - -“‘Now this is a parable, my daughter, of the secrets of the hearts of -men, and I will relate others that thou mayest be admonished.’ - -“And the Lady Budoor answered modestly: ‘Speak on, my father, I -listen.’” - -And when Lailela had finished this story she resumed her seat, and the -ladies reflected deeply, and the Princess said: - -“This must undoubtedly be true. As a man no longer observes an object -which he sees daily, so must it be with a man and the beauty of his -wife. Clearly it is not enough to be beautiful even as a Dancer of -Heaven. It is also needful to be a provoker of laughter. Would that I -knew the stories of this slave . . . Sisters, have they been heard by -any of you? What is beauty, when the beautiful are forsaken or die? But -tell me.” - -And now Vasuki, a lady of the Rajputs, stepped forward in all the -insolence of beauty, swaying her hips, and rearing her head like a Queen -as she came, and she began thus: - -“Princess, of my heart, let none tempt you to undervalue the gift of -loveliness by which even the greatest of the Gods are subjected as my -story will declare. And let it be remembered that if even a man weary of -his wife’s beauty—there are yet other men in the world, and what though -our faith forbid marriage there are other faiths. And, if this be -impossible, a woman can always be captured if so she will! And I would -have you recall the story of the Rani of Mundore who being left a widow -was captured by a great King and ruled him and his Kingdom. But hear my -story of why Brahma, a high God of my people, has four faces in his -temple. - -“In the ancient days in India two evil and terrible brothers rose to -kingly power. They were inseparable as the Twin Stars, the Aswins, and -together they did evil mightily and in their union was their strength. -Finally they formed plans to storm the lower heavens and expel the Gods -and there was every reason to believe they would carry out this -determination. So the Gods held a great Panchayet (council) and some -said one thing, some another, and at last Brahma the Creator spoke as -follows: - -“‘Great Gods and Heavenly Ladies, in the union of these wretches is -their power, because where two perfectly agree their wisdom is -unconquerable. It is only because this has never been the case on earth -that we are able to keep any sort of order. Now of all influences the -most powerful is love. True it is their palaces are full to over-flowing -with handsome women but we are still the Gods, the makers of men. Let us -take for our model the Goddess of Beauty herself, and send some -exquisite one on earth to distract and divide the evil kings.’ - -“So the flowers of heaven were brought, and the Goddess of Beauty stood -unveiled and divine before them, and from the ivory of the lotus blossom -they made a sweet body, and from the dark blue lotus they made two -dreaming eyes, and they took the storm cloud for the glooms of her heavy -lashes, and the midnight deeps for the lengths of her silken hair, and -for her smile they took the sunshine and for her blush the dawn, and for -her coquetry the playfulness of the kitten, and for her seductions the -wiles of the serpent, and for her fidelity—but all their materials were -exhausted before the necessity for this was remembered. And Lakshimi -gave her instead what is invisible but omnipotent, her own charm which -none has ever seen but all the Universe has felt. And when all was done -great Brahma breathed life into the fair image and she arose and looked -down upon her own beauty with astonishment and in a voice of crystal -music she said: - -“‘I am Tillotama.’ - -“And all the Gods stood confounded at their own handiwork but the -Goddesses turned angrily away. - -“So they commanded her to go to earth and instructed her, each mighty -heart beating with agony that she should go. And she passed before the -Throne of Brahma making a _pradakshina_, a reverential threefold -circuit, about him keeping him always to the right. And he gazed -passionately upon her and she made a turn to the left, and for pride he -would not turn his head, but from the energy of his soul’s longing -another face sprang out on the left side of his head and the eyes still -followed her, and as she made her circuit this again happened at the -back and still he regarded her, and at the right side also, so that -wherever that loveliness went his eyes fed upon her with more passion -than the moon-bird who steadfastly regards the moon all night. And, -Princess, this is the undoubted reason why the image of Brahma has ever -since had four faces. So she went to earth with ruin for her dower, and -the two evil kings desired her and slew one another for her possession. -And Saraswati, the wife of Brahma, immediately demanded that their work -should be undone and the fair creature resolved again into the elements -of nature lest the peace of heaven should be broken. So it was done, but -Brahma retains forever his four faces. - -“Therefore, Princess, if beauty thus subjugates the greatest of the -Gods, what will be the effect of such beauty as your own upon the heart -of the King of Jamu?” - -And Amra clasping her hands, replied: - -“But this is a terrible story! For if the greatest of the Gods, who has -a glorious Goddess for his wife, be not faithful, what hope is in men? I -grow so terrified that death itself seems preferable to marriage. Is -there no comfort in any of you?” - -And now, treading delicately on little bound feet, came Ying-ning, the -fair Chinese maiden from Liang, who had been presented to the Princess -because of her skill in embroidery and cosmetics. And she saluted -humbly, and requested permission to speak: - -“Princess, a great lady has last spoken and who am I? Yet because I -tremble to hear her speak of any other than a husband in the love of a -woman, hear me, for of all dangers the greatest is the jealousy of a -husband. And this is a true story of my country. - -“There was a very great artificer long, long years ago and he made an -image exactly resembling a man. It was composed of wood and glue and -leather, and sinews of catgut, and so great was his skill that he made -even a heart that beat and set it in the breast, and the features were -exquisitely painted and it resembled a great Chinese lord, noble and -handsome and able to sing, move, and talk. Finally he showed it to the -King of Liang who was struck dumb at such handiwork, for it was like the -power of the Immortals. And he said; ‘My Household must certainly view -this marvel, and there can be no objection to this course of conduct -since I have satisfied myself it is but a thing of springs and leather.’ - -“So, on the following day, the artificer brought his image to the Pepper -Chambers, being himself an aged man and in circumstances which permitted -his entry. Being introduced to the presence of the King, the Queen and -the ladies who rejoiced in the King’s favour, these ladies all stared -with the utmost bewilderment at the handsome young man thus represented. -The artificer touched its chin and it burst into a love-song most -delicately sung in a mellow and manly voice. It recited a passage from -the poets in praise of wine. It kow-towed before the King. But -unluckily, encouraged by success, the artificer touched its heart, and -with the utmost audacity it gazed upon the ladies and winking one eye, -seized the hand of the loveliest, and placed a sacrilegious arm about -her person, she smiling. A frenzy of passion swept over the King on -seeing this. He shouted for the death of the artificer, and though the -aged man in a terror instantly rent the image apart into a heap of wood -and leather, he could not be appeased and the unfortunate was led out -and beheaded. Furthermore, he ordered the lady who had been thus -polluted to be instantly strangled because she had not shrieked on the -instant as (he asserted) any virtuous woman, a stranger to such a -contact, must have done. And in spite of her piteous entreaties she was -slaughtered. Was this reasonable, O my Princess? But be it known to you -that in love and in possession also there is no reason, and that this is -the manner in which all men would act. And moreover it is their right, -and it is entirely just that even the looks or dreams of a woman should -be faithful to her husband and to him only.” - -And Ying-ning retreated to the circle, and the Princess wrung her hands -and cried: - -“What then is to become of women if they are thus surrendered to the -mercy of the merciless! I will entreat at my father’s feet that I may -live and die a maid. And I will——” - -But she could not continue for the beating of her heart, and now the -little lovely gesang, Pak, from Phyong-yang in the Land of the Morning -Calm, whence come all the fairest singing girls, moved trembling forward -and spoke in a voice of silver, but so low that the Princess called upon -her to stand at her feet that she might hear. Enclosed in a great lotus -blossom she had been presented to the Princess that she might cheer her -with strange dances from the Korean land, and she had clapped her hands -for joy when the ivory petals fell apart disclosing the small dancer -crouched within. But the women of the Morning Calm have few words and -all now leaned forward to hear what this silent one might say. - -“Great Lady, near my home by the Green Duck River lived long ago a -Yang-ban (noble) who had a beautiful daughter named Ha. She had a -slender throat on which was set a face most delicately painted and of -exquisite charm, the lips resembling ripe cherries and the eyes of -liquid brilliance. Many marriage enquiries were made, but her father -finally made the choice of a young Yang-ban of good position named Won -Kiun, and on a day of favourable omens she was borne to his house and -became his wife. For five years they lived together in harmony nor did -he spend his time without the screened apartments, for she could even -play chess and he could converse with her. But alas! she bore no child -and daily did her anguish increase, for she could hear his sighs because -he had no son to perform the rites for him when his time should come. -Still hoping, she delayed, but this could not last, and on a certain day -she approached him saying: - -“‘Lord of my Life, may your worthless wife speak?’ - -“He gave permission. - -“‘Five years,’ said Ha, ‘have gone by and I have not fulfilled my duty. -It is certainly the evil destiny of your worthless wife which has caused -this. Therefore I say thus:—I will sell my pins of jade and buy a -concubine for you. Accede to my humble request.’ - -“Won Kiun could scarcely hide his astonishment, for though this was but -fulfilling a duty, still it is not common for a wife to make this offer. -But he agreed instantly for he earnestly desired a son, and after so -many years naturally desired also a change of companionship. Ha -therefore made search and found a girl named A-pao of as much beauty as -the price she could pay would fetch. - -“It was then that Ha’s sorrows began. She was neglected by Won Kiun, -tormented by A-pao, but enduring in silence as a wife should, she went -about her work with a smile. But A-pao also failed in her duty for there -was no child, and presently Won Kiun whose health had always been frail, -departed to the ancestral spirits, A-pao shamelessly took her place in -the house of a rich man, and Ha was left a desolate widow, and the more -so because her parents and her husband’s justly despised her as a barren -wife. - -“But, Princess, mark what followed! - -“She had placed her husband’s spirit tablet, which contained his third -soul, beside her bed, and before this made her offerings of bread and -wine and prayers for pardon, and one night when she had wept herself to -sleep a strange thing happened. The tablet moved,—a human figure slowly -emerged from it and stood on the floor, and Ha, with eyes distended with -terror, saw her husband. In the well-remembered voice he said: - -“‘I have permission from the Junior Board of the Gods of Hades to visit -you as a reward for my filial merit on earth, and this in spite of your -conduct in that very mistaken business of A-pao. Had _I_ been consulted -she was by no means the person I should have chosen. Yet I am come to -visit you and shall do so nightly for a month.’ - -“The faithful Ha laid her head on his feet and sobbed for joy. What a -reward! How small now did all her many sacrifices appear! - -“For a month the spirit tablet nightly became her husband, and on the -last day of the month he bid her an eternal farewell, and the tablet -fell to the ground and broke into two pieces. With tender care she -mended it, and set herself to await the birth of her son. - -“In due time he was born and her cup of joy would have run over but that -the most shocking rumours were spread by A-pao and her mother-in-law, -and it was believed that she had grossly dishonoured the fragrant memory -of her husband. Vainly she explained the facts. The only result was that -the magistrate, fearing lest he might possibly destroy a child of -miracle, would not himself put it to death, but commanded it should be -flung to the swine. Marvellous to tell, the swine, instead of devouring -it, kept the child alive by breathing warmth upon it, and it was then -that, starving for food, and broken-hearted, Ha demanded a test before -the assembled people. It is well known that the children of the spirits -cast no shadow, and the child, before an immense crowd, with his -miserable mother watching from behind a curtain, was brought into the -full sunshine and held up. To the amazement and fear of all, no shadow -was cast on the earth. To set the matter forever at rest the spirit -tablet was then brought out and a little blood drawn from the tender arm -of the child. This was spread on the tablet inhabited by the father’s -spirit and it instantly sank in and disappeared, though when spread on -another, it rolled off, leaving no mark. Amid loud shouts the child was -pronounced the true heir of the family. Ha was immediately pardoned by -the parents of Won Kiun and taken into their favour, being permitted to -serve them to the end of their days, which she did with perfect -devotion. - -“My Princess will see from this true story the great reward that -humility and patience bring to a good wife. It is not every husband who -returns from the Land of the Dead to bring joy to one in such a lowly -position. And though it is easy to be seen that it was his own -transcendent merits which occasioned this joyful result, without the -patience of Ha the nobility of her husband and his parents could -scarcely have been rewarded. Therefore the duty of a woman is submission -and where this exists all her follies and faults may be covered as a -rich brocade covers a poor divan.” - -The ladies were silent and the Princess again shook her head with tears -in her eyes. - -“This is a difficult case,” she said, “and in truth each seems more -alarming than the last. It appears that marriage is a sea of perils -great and terrible, and to escape shipwreck all but impossible. Possibly -if Ha had not bought the concubine—but have none of my ladies a story -of man’s fidelity? Is such a thing unknown?” - -And even as she spoke a woman with a face like the dusk of the evening -and eyes as its stars in clouds, broke in upon her words unmannerly but -with such power that all turned to listen, forgetting even the Presence. - -“My Princess, my beloved, hear now this last story, for these women have -spoken of little things, but I will speak of great. - -“It is known to you that when the King Rama ruled in Kosala and was -thence driven for awhile into the wild woods, there went with him of her -own choice and in utter devotion, his wife, young and lovely and noble, -the Queen Sita. And when he entreated her to leave him because of the -horror of the great woods and the wild beasts, and the evil spirits and -hunger and poverty, she replied only: ‘How should I stay in the glorious -city when my husband is gone? I count all evils as blessings when I am -with him. Without him life is death. And if my prayer is refused I will -enter the fire and await him in the Paradise to be.’ - -“So she followed Rama, clothed in poverty and in the wood she served -him, unfaltering in piety and all wifely duty. And as the result of this -nobility her beauty so grew that the very Gods, passing on their high -errands would pause for joy to see her perfections. - -“But on a certain day when the King was absent, the evil King of Lanka -stole this Pearl, hoping to set it in his crown. - -“Princess, it is not needful to tell the sorrows of Sita, the -temptations she resisted nor the cruelties that could not break her pure -will. Flawless in strength and brightness as the very spirit of the -diamond was her faith. And when Rama at last, by the aid of the Gods, -conquered the evil-doer, she sat beneath a tree, in poor array, -trembling for joy to think that her head should lie once more upon her -husband’s breast and her ear be gladdened with his praise for the fight -she had fought alone in sorrow. - -“So she stood before him and he sat upon his victorious throne and thus -he spoke: - -“‘Lady, my work is done. I have avenged my honour and the insult put -upon me and my foe is broken. But mistake me not. It was for no love to -you that I fought, but to uphold the dignity of my race. Your presence -now hurts me as light hurts a diseased eye. Another man has seen your -face unveiled. His hand has touched you. You have dwelt in his palace. -You are no wife of mine. Go where you will. Do what you will. We are -parted.’” - -[And the Princess and all the ladies stared with great eyes to hear what -the woman told.] - -“And this before a great assembly. So, at first the Queen wept silently, -because this shaft pierced her very heart. Then, drying her tears, she -raised her fair head and answered: - -“‘Is all my faithful love forgotten? It was hard for a weak woman to -resist supernatural strength. Yet in all perils of death and shame I -have been utterly chaste in soul and body, and no evil came near me, for -in me there was none to meet it.’ - -“She paused and the King made no answer. And she said: - -“‘If man deserts me the High Gods are faithful. Make ready the funeral -pile. I will not live in this shame.’ - -“And it was done;—none daring to look in the King’s face, and he still -silent. . . . So, circling her husband thrice in farewell reverence, the -Queen entered the fire. And even as the flame lapped her feet, the Great -Gods descended in radiant chariots plumed for the untrodden ways of the -air, and the God of the Fire, who is the Purifier, took her by the hand -and presented her to Rama, saying, - -“‘Even as is my white flame purity, so is the purity of this Queen.’ - -“And he accepted her from the God’s hand. - -“Princess, would not all the world believe that after this coming of the -Gods this King would have honoured his Queen? Yet no. - -“He knew her pure, but, since others whispered that another had seen her -face, and who could tell?—again he dismissed her for in him as in all -men, pride was mightier than love. - -“And once more, Sita, standing before him and knowing this the end, made -declaration of her chastity that all might hear. And suddenly -transported beyond the weakness of a woman, she stood as one divine, -perfect in high soul and nobility, and she said: - -“‘Never has any thought that was not pure and chaste entered my heart, -and as my heart so is my body. This have I said. And now, I beseech of -the Earth, the Great Goddess, Mother of us all, that she will grant me a -refuge, for I have none other.’ - -“And as she spoke these words, a very soft air, laden with coolness and -sacred perfumes, stirred among them, and in the silence there arose from -the earth a Throne and upon it the Mighty Mother of men and Gods, and -she raised the Queen in her arms and set her upon the Throne that all -might see her throned and glorious. And lo! for a moment she sat -majestic, and the assembly hid their faces, and when they again raised -them all was gone and only the common day was about them. - -“But the King wept uncomforted knowing that never again by city or -forest might he see that fair face, which being his own he had cast from -him.” - -And the woman paused, and all the ladies cried that this was the -cruellest story of all, demanding that she be dismissed from the -Presence as an offender. But the Princess sat submerged in thought, and -the woman said softly: - -“My Princess—my beloved,—the Gods rule. In all life is sorrow, whether -in Kashmir or Jamu. But the Gods abide. In the hollow of Their hand lay -this Queen, and in the darkness the King’s eyes could not pierce They -smiled. Certainly she leaned on Their might and so walked content and -what could man do to her? Fear not, my Princess. The Gods abide—whether -in Kashmir or Jamu, and the earth is Their footstool. And this being so -the life of a woman is her own, go where she will.” - -And there fell a great silence and she who said this glided away and was -gone. And presently the Princess rose in the midst of the women like a -Queen, and she spoke: - -“This is the truth. Fate is fate and love is love, and what we do is our -own, and not the deeds of another. For that Queen I do not weep, but for -the King who was blind to her glory. It is the valour of men that sends -them forth to war, and it is the valour of women that puts their hearts -in the hand of their husbands. And to me, since I have seen this -portrait all other things are empty, and if he slay me still will I love -him. For it is the High God, who is worshipped by many names, who has -made the woman for the man and the man for the woman, and He abides -unchanging in Unity and what He does is better than well.” - -And as she spoke the colours faded on the mountains and on the lake the -evening came with quiet feet. - - - - - THE WISDOM OF THE ORIENT - A DIALOGUE AND A STORY - - - - - THE WISDOM OF THE ORIENT - - A DIALOGUE AND A STORY - - - I - -“I believe you take as long to dress as I do,” she said pettishly; “I -call it neither more nor less than poaching when a man looks so well -turned out. And a Poet, too! Well—you can sit down; I have twenty -minutes free.” - -She was dressed for a bridge party. Dressed—oh, the tilt of the hat -over her delicate little nose; the shadow it cast over the liquid eyes, -ambushing them, as it were, for the flash and spring upon the victim! -But I was no victim—not I! I knew my young friend too well. She endured -me more or less gladly. I sat at her feet and learned the ways of the -sex, and turned them into verse, or didn’t, according to the mood of the -minute. I had versified her more than once. She was a rondeau, a -triolet, a trill—nothing more. - -“Why mayn’t a poet look respectable as well as another?” I asked, -dropping into a chair. - -“Because it isn’t in the picture. You were much more effective, you -folks, when you went about with long hair, and scowled, with a finger on -your brows. But never mind—you’ve given us up and we’ve given you up, -so it doesn’t matter what women think of you any more.” - -“You never said a truer word!” I replied, lighting my cigarette at hers. -“The connection between women and poetry is clean-cut for the time. As -for the future—God knows! You’re not poetic any more. And it’s deuced -hard, for we made you.” - -“Nonsense. God made us, they say—or Adam—I never quite made out -which.” - -“It’s a divided responsibility, anyhow. For the Serpent dressed you. He -knew his business there—he knew that beauty unadorned may do well -enough in a walled garden and with only one to see and no one else to -look at. But in the great world, and with competition—no! And you—you -little fools, you’re undoing all his charitable work and undressing -yourselves again. When I was at the dance the other night I thirsted for -the Serpent to take the floor and hiss you a lecture on your -stupidities.” - -She pouted: “Stupidities? I’m sure the frocks were perfectly lovely.” - -“As far as they went, but they didn’t go nearly far enough for the -Serpent. And believe me, he knows all the tricks of the trade. He wants -mystery—he wants the tremble in the lips when a man feels—‘I can’t -see—I can only guess, and I guess the Immaculate, the Exquisite—the -silent silver lights and darks undreamed of.’ And you—you go and strip -your backs to the waist and your legs to the knees. No, believe me, the -Dark Continent isn’t large enough; and when there is nothing left to -explore, naturally the explorer ceases to exist.” - -“I think you’re very impertinent. Look at Inez. Wasn’t she perfectly -lovely? She can wear less than any of us, and wear it well.” - -“I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, if you mean that. But not along the -Serpent line of thought. It was mathematical. I was calculating the -chances for and against, all the time—whether that indiscreet rose-leaf -in front would hold on. Whether the leaf at the back would give. At last -I got to counting. She’s laughing—will it last till I get to -five-and-twenty? thirty? And I held on to the switches to switch off the -light if it gave. The suspense was terrific. Did she hold together after -midnight? I left then.” - -“I won’t tell you. You don’t deserve to hear,” she said with dignity. - -A brief silence. - -“What do you mean by saying you poets made us?” she began again, pushing -the ash-tray toward me. - -“Well, you know, as a matter of fact people long ago didn’t believe you -had any souls.” - -“Rot!” - -“I shouldn’t think of contradicting you, my dear Joan, but it’s a fact.” - -“Oh, the Turks, and heathen like that.” - -“Well, no—the Church. The Fathers of the Church, met in solemn council, -remarked you had no souls. It was a long time ago, however.” - -“They didn’t!” - -“They did. They treated you as pretty dangerous little animals, with -snake’s blood in you. Listen to this: ‘Chrysostom’—a very distinguished -saint—‘only interpreted the general sentiment of the Fathers when he -pronounced woman to be a necessary evil, a natural temptation, a -desirable calamity, a domestic peril, a deadly fascination, a painted -ill.’ You see you had found the way to the rouge-box even then.” - -“I shouldn’t wonder if they were right,” she said, incredibly. “I’ve -often doubted whether I’ve a soul myself. And I’m sure Inez hasn’t.” - -I shrugged my shoulders. - -“At all events, the poets thought you were not as pretty without one. We -disagreed with the Church. We always have. So we took you in hand. Your -soul was born, my dear Joan, in Provence, about the year 1100.” - -She began to be a little interested, but looked at her tiny watch—grey -platinum with a frosty twinkle of diamonds. - -“Go on. I’ve ten minutes more.” - -“Well—we were sorry for you. We were the Troubadours of Provence, and -we found you kicked into the mud by the Church, flung out into the world -to earn your bread in various disreputable ways—by marriage, and -otherwise. You simply didn’t exist. We found your beautiful dead body in -the snow and mud. And we picked you up and warmed you and set you on a -throne all gold and jewels. Virtually, you never breathed until we wrote -poems about you.” - -“Jewels! We have always liked jewels,” she sighed. - -“We gave you a wonderful crown first, all white and shining. We made you -Queen of Heaven, and then even the Church had to eat humble pie and -worship you, for you were Mary. We did that—we only. But that wasn’t -enough. You opened your eyes, and grew proud and spoiled, and heaven was -by no means enough. You wanted more. You would be Queen of Earth, too. -And we did it! We gave you a crown of red jewels,—red like heart’s -blood,—and we put a sceptre in your hand, and we fell down and -worshipped you. And you were Venus. And you have been Queen of Europe -and the New World ever since.” - -“Of Europe only? Not of Asia? Why not?” - -“Oh, they are much too old and wise in Asia. They are much wiser than -we. Wiser than the Church. Wiser than the poets—than any of us.” - -“What do they say?” - -“Well—let’s think. That you have your uses—_uses_. That you are -valuable in so far as you bear children and are obedient to your -husbands. That, outside that, your beauty has its uses also within -limits that are rather strictly marked. That in many rebirths you will -develop your soul and be immortal; if you behave, that is! If not—then -who shall say? But you have your chance all the time. With them you are -neither goddess or fiend. You are just women. Not even Woman.” - -“What ghastly materialism!” - -“No, no! The happy mean. The perfect wisdom. Meanwhile, you yourselves -are all hunting after the ideals of the market-place, the platform, the -pulpit. I wonder how many extra rebirths it will cost you! Never mind. -Time is long. The gods are never in a hurry, and you will arrive even if -you only catch the last train.” - -“But this is all fault-finding, and unfair at that. Will you have the -goodness to advise? If we stick on our pedestals, you all run off to the -frivolers. If we frivol, you weep for the pedestal. What is it you -really want? If we knew, we’d try to deliver the goods, I’m sure.” - -“I’m not!” I said, and reflected. Then, gathering resolution, “Have you -the patience to listen to a story?” - -“If it’s a good one. How long will it take?” - -“Ten minutes. The author is the Serpent.” - -“Then I’ll certainly put off Inez for fifteen minutes. Who’s it -about?”—running to the telephone. - -“Eve, Lilith, Adam.” - -“Who was Lilith?” - -“Adam’s first love.” - -She sat down, her eyes dancing, her lips demure; the prettiest -combination! - -“I didn’t know he had one. But I might have guessed. They always have. -Go on!” - -I went on, and this is the story. - - II - -“You were speaking of the pedestal. That, of course, was invented in -Eden; for Adam early recognized the convenience of knowing where to -leave your women and be certain of finding them on your return. So he -made the pedestal, decorated it, burned incense before it, and went away -upon his own occasions; and when Eve had finished her housekeeping (you -may remember, Milton tells us what good little dinners she provided for -Adam), she would look bored, climb upon the pedestal obediently, and -stand there all day, yawning and wondering what kept him away so long. - -“Now, on a memorable day, the Serpent came by, and stopped and looked up -at the Lady of the Garden,—who naturally assumed a statuesque -pose,—and there was joy in his bright little eyes. But all he said was, -‘May I ask if you find this amusing?’ - -“And Eve replied, ‘No, not at all. But it is the proper place for a -lady.’ - -“And the Serpent rejoined: ‘Why?’ - -“And Eve reflected and answered: ‘Because Adam says so.’ - -“So the Serpent drew near and whispered in his soft sibilant voice: -‘Have you ever heard of Lilith? _She_ does not stand on a pedestal. She -gardens with Adam. To be frank, she is a cousin of my own.’ - -“And this made Eve extremely angry, and she replied sharply: ‘I don’t -know what you mean. He and I are alone in Eden. There’s no such person -as Lilith. You are only a serpent when all’s said and done. What can you -know?’ - -“And the Serpent replied very gently,—and his voice was as soothing as -the murmur of a distant hive of bees,—‘I am only a Serpent, true! But I -have had unusual opportunities of observation. Come and eat of the Tree -of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Long ages ago I tasted the Fruit. The -savour of my teeth is sweet on it still.’ - -“Eve hesitated, and she who hesitates is lost. - -“‘I own I should like to know about this Lilith,’ she said. ‘But we were -told that fruit is unripe, and I don’t like bitter things. Is it -bitter?’ - -“And the Serpent narrowed his eyes until they shone like slits of -emerald. - -“‘Sweet!’ he said; ‘come.’ - -“So she descended from the pedestal, and, guided by the Serpent, stood -before that wondrous Tree where every apple shines like a star among its -cloudy leaves. And she plucked one, and, tasting it, flung the rest -angrily at the Serpent, because it was still a little unripe; and having -tasted the Fruit Forbidden, she returned to the pedestal, pondering, -with the strangest new thoughts quickening in her brain. - -“If Adam noticed anything when he came back that evening, it was only -that Eve was a little more silent than usual, and forgot to ask if the -thornless roses were striking root. She was thinking deeply, but there -were serious gaps in her knowledge. - -“The first result of her partial enlightenment was that, though she now -only used the pedestal as a clothes-peg and spent all her spare time in -stalking Adam and Lilith, she always scrambled up in hot haste when he -returned. He could be certain of finding her there when he expected to, -and he made a point of that because, as he said,— - -“‘No truly nice woman would ever want to leave it and go wandering about -the Garden. It does not do for a respectable woman to be seen speaking -even to an Archangel nowadays, so often does the Devil assume the form -of an Angel of Light. You never can tell. And besides, there is always -the Serpent, who, in my opinion, should never have been admitted.’ - -“Eve said nothing, which was becoming a habit. She only folded her -little hands meekly and accepted the homage paid to the pedestal with -perfect gravity and decorum. He never suspected until much later that -she knew what a comparatively interesting time Lilith was having, and -had indeed called on that lady at the other end of the Garden, with -friendly results. She was well aware that Lilith’s footing on the garden -paths was much more slippery and unsafe than her own on the pedestal. -Still, there were particulars which she felt would be useful. - -“When Adam realized the facts, he realized also that he was face to face -with a political crisis of the first magnitude. If they fraternized, -those two, of such different characters and antecedents, there was -nothing they could not know—nothing they might not do! The pedestal was -rocking to its very foundation. The gardening with Lilith must end. She -would demand recognition; Eve would demand freedom. It might mean a -conspiracy—a boycott. What was there it might not mean? He scarcely -dared to think. Eden was crumbling about him. - -“It was a desperate emergency, and as he sat with a racking head, -wishing them both in—Paradise, the Serpent happened along. - -“‘Surely you look a little harassed,’ he said, stopping. - -“Adam groaned. - -“‘Is it as bad as all that?’ the Serpent asked, sympathetically. - -“‘Worse.’ - -“‘What have they been at?’ asked the Serpent. - -“‘They each know too much, and they will soon know more,’ he rejoined -gloomily. ‘Knowledge is as infectious as potato blight.’ - -“The Serpent replied with alacrity: ‘In this dreadful situation you must -know most. It is the only remedy. Come and eat at once of the Fruit of -the Tree. I have never understood why you did not do that the moment the -Rib took shape.’ - -“And Adam, like Eve asked: ‘Is it sweet?’ - -“So the Serpent narrowed his eyes till they shone like slits of ruby, -and said, ‘Bitter, but appetizing. Come.’ - -“And Adam replied: ‘I like bitters before dinner.’ - -“We all know what happened then; with the one exception that, as a -matter of fact, he found the apple a little overripe, too sweet, even -cloying; and not even swallowing what he had tasted, he threw the rest -away. - -“It is just as well to have this version, for it must have been always -perfectly clear that Eve, having tasted the apple and thus acquired a -certain amount of wisdom, could never have desired to share it with -Adam. [“I have thought that myself,” murmured Joan.] No, it was the -Serpent’s doing in both cases; though naturally Adam blamed Eve when the -question was raised, for she had begun it. - -“But what was the result? Well, there were several. It has, of course, -been a trial of wits between Adam, Eve, and Lilith ever since. But, in -tasting, he had learned one maxim which the Romans thought they invented -thousands of years later. It flashed into his mind one day, when he saw -the two gathering roses together and found his dinner was half an hour -late in consequence. It was simply this: Divide and Rule. Combined, he -could never manage them; the sceptre was daily slipping from his hand. -Divided, he could. So he put the maxim in practice and sowed division -and distrust between Eve and Lilith. They ceased to visit each other, -and were cuts when they met. And, naturally, after the Eviction the -meetings ceased entirely. - -“You will have understood before this, my dear Joan, that Adam was the -first mortal to realize the value of competition. He now became the -object of spirited competition between the two. Each in her own way -outbid the other to secure his regard. Eve’s domestic virtues grew -oppressive; Lilith’s recklessness alarming. And it will readily be seen -why women have pursued men, rather than the other way over, as we see it -in the lower walks of creation.” - -“Don’t prose,” said Joan. “What happened?” - -“Well, in the last few years, the Serpent, who is always upsetting -things, happened along again, and found Eve balancing in extreme -discomfort on the pedestal, and Lilith resting, exhausted, after a -particularly hard day’s pursuit of Adam. And between them was a wall of -icy silence. - -“He paused and said with his usual courtesy, ‘Ladies, you both seem -fatigued. Is it permitted to ask the reason?’ And his voice had all the -murmuring of all the doves of Arcady. - -“And Lilith replied angrily: ‘I’m sick of hunting Adam. I always catch -him and always know I shall. And he wants to be caught, and yet insists -on being hunted before he gives me the rewards. Who can keep up any -interest in a game like that? If it were not for Eve, who would take up -the running if I dropped it, he might go to Gehenna for me!’” - -“Oh, how true! I like Lilith best!” whispered Joan. She was not smoking -now. - -“‘Strong, but pardonable,’ said the Serpent. ‘And you, dear Lady?’ - -“And Eve, casting a jealous scowl at Lilith, replied: ‘I’m weary of this -abominable pedestal. If you had stood on it off and on for five thousand -years, you would realize the cramp it means in the knees. But I daren’t -get off, for Adam says no truly nice woman ever would leave it, and it -pleases him. If it were not for Lilith, who would be upon it in two -seconds, I should be off it in less. And then where should I be? She -_will_ go on hunting him, and of course he must have quiet at home.’ - -“‘And you _will_ go on standing on your imbecile pedestal, and of course -such boredom makes him restless abroad,’ retorted the other. - -“In the momentary silence that ensued, the Serpent looked up at Lilith -and narrowed his eyes till they shone like slits of amethyst. - -“‘My cousin,’ he said, ‘our family was old when Adam was created. He is -poor game.’ - -“‘Nobody knows that better than I,’ said Lilith tartly. ‘What do you -suppose I hunt him for?’ - -“‘What, indeed!’ said the Serpent, hissing softly. - -“‘Because of Eve—that only!’ she flashed at him. ‘She never shall -triumph over me. And what there is to give, he has.’ - -“He turned to Eve, narrowing his eyes till they shone like slits of -fire. - -“‘And you stand cramped on this pedestal, beloved Lady?’ - -“‘Because of Lilith—that only! She, at all events, shall not have him. -And think of his morals!’” - -(“Aha!” said Joan, with intense conviction.) - -“The Serpent mused and curved his shining head toward Eve. - -“‘If you will allow me to say so, I have always regretted that you never -finished that apple, and that my cousin Lilith has never tasted it at -all,’ he murmured. ‘A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, as certain -also of your own poets have said.’ - -“‘I have sometimes thought so, too,’ Eve replied mournfully; ‘and there -is a word that now and then flashes across my brain like an echo from -the past, but I can never quite recall it. It might explain matters. -Still, it is no use talking. That apple rotted long ago, and if the Tree -is still growing, which I doubt, there is always a guard of flying -infantry at the Gate. It is easier to get out than in where Eden is -concerned.’ - -“The Serpent smiled blandly. - -“‘You have evidently forgotten that, by arrangement with the Governing -Body, I have always free ingress and egress. Look here!’ - -“He unfolded his iridescent coils, and there lay within them—shining, -mystic, wonderful, against his velvet bloom—two Apples. - -“There was no hesitation, for each was equally weary of Adam’s -requirements; and, snatching each an Apple, they ate. - -“But the Fruit has grown bitter since the days of the Garden. There is -nothing so bitter as knowledge. Their lips were wried, and the tears -came, and still they ate until not an atom remained. The Serpent -watched. For a moment each stared upon the other, trembling like a -snared bird, wild thoughts coming and going in the eyes of the Barren -Woman and the Mother of all Living. Then Eve stretched out her arms, and -Lilith flung herself into them, and they clung together, weeping. - -“And the Serpent opened his eyes until they shone like sun, moon, and -stars all melted into one; and he said, ‘Ladies, the word you are -seeking is, I think, _Combination_.’ And smiling subtly, he went away. - -“So Eve descended from her pedestal and trampled it; and Lilith broke -the rod of her evil enchantments; and they walked hand in hand, blessing -the world. - -“Adam meanwhile was shooting,—big game, little game,—and, amid the -pressure of such important matters, never paid any attention to this -trifle. But this was the beginning of what will be the biggest -trade-union the world will ever see. All the women who matter will be -within it, and the black-legs outside will be the women who don’t count. -So now you see why men will not much longer have a run (literally) for -their money. Adam may have to put up with it, for he never ate the Apple -as Eve and Lilith have done, and therefore does not know so much about -the things of real importance. Unless indeed the Serpent— But we won’t -think of that until it happens. - -“Now, my dear Joan, whether all this is a good or a bad thing, who can -tell? The Serpent undoubtedly shuffled the cards; and who the Serpent is -and what are his intentions, are certainly open questions. Some believe -him to be the Devil, but the minority think his true name is Wisdom. All -one really can say is that the future lies on the knees of the gods, and -that among all men the Snake is the symbol of Knowledge, and is -therefore surrounded with fear and hatred. - -“Now that’s the story, and don’t you think there’s a kind of moral?” - -I waited for a comment. Joan was in deep meditation. - -“Do you know,” she said slowly, “it’s the truest thing I ever heard. -It’s as true as taxes. But where do _you_ come in?” - -“I wasn’t thinking of us,” I said hurriedly. “I merely meant—if you -wished to be more attractive——” - -“Attractive!”—with her little nose in the air. “I guess it’s you that -will have to worry about your attractions, if that comes along. I won’t -waste any more time on you to-day. I’ve got to think this out, and talk -it out, too, with Inez and Janet.” - -She rose and began to pull on her gloves, but absently. - -I felt exactly like a man who has set a time-fuse in a powder magazine. -The Serpent himself must have possessed me when I introduced his wisdom -to a head cram-full of it already. - -“It’s the merest nonsense, Joan. It isn’t in the Talmud. The Serpent -never thought of it. I made it all up.” - -“You couldn’t. It isn’t in you. Or, if you did, it was an inspiration -from on high.” - -“From below,” I said weakly. - -She smiled to herself—a dangerous smile. - -“I must go. And you really were a little less dull than usual. Come -again on Tuesday. The moral of it all is, so far, that the poets are -really worth cultivating. I will begin with you!” - -She flashed away like a humming bird, and I retired, to read my -Schopenhauer. But the serious question is—shall I go on Tuesday? - - - - - STATELY JULIA - A STORY OF ENCHANTMENTS - - - - - STATELY JULIA - - A STORY OF ENCHANTMENTS - - -(A letter from Mr. Amyand Tylliol to his friend, Mr. Endymion Porter at -the Court of his Majesty, King Charles the First.) - -To my kind and constant friend, that lover of the Muses, Mr. Endymion -Porter, to whose understanding heart all confidences may be carried, -these presents to bring my news. - -Since you marvel at the delay of your humble servant needs must I tell -you of a singular hap which hath befallen. Yet no hurt, therefore be not -distrest, for all is well. And truth it is that I have met a most -ingenious gentleman, and this is the marrow of what I would say. - -For, prospering in my journey, I did reach Exeter, and there in the -shadow of the Cathedral Church, transacted my affair with Mr. Delander -as foreseen. And a right fair and noble church it is, rich beyond -imagining with images of kings and bishops, queens and holy martyrs. - -From Mr. Stephen Delander (who quarters the arms of Tylliol with his own -from an alliance in the days of Queen Elizabeth of blessed memory, and -therefore calls cousin with me) have I received most hospitable -entertainment, and noble conversation enriched with such sparkling gems -of poesy and rhetoric as cannot be told in words. And hence is he become -my singular good friend and as such to be remembered and cherished. His -house lies in the Cathedral precincts and is by all the city known as -Domus Domini, the Lord’s House, since it belonged to the foundation of -the Cathedral in days now like to be forgot. - -And ’tis a house delightful to the fancy, in a very small garden set -with a few sombre trees, enlightened with clove-gilly flowers and roses, -and box hedges with winding walks among the turf. Within, deep-windowed, -with grave and handsome plenishing and great store of books clothing the -walls, and all of a sober discretion that bespeaks a gentleman of -lineage and parts. And over it towers the cathedral church the which -(looking upward) appears to swim in the blue as though native to the -skies, and sheds from its mighty bells a voice of warning over the -clustering city with every passing hour, for a _memento mori_. - -A place indeed for the feeding of pensive musing and the relishing of -the fair-zoned Muses even as in the groves of Academe. - -So, business concluded, ’twas the habit of Mr. Delander and myself to -sit in the oriel commanding the cathedral and to hold sweet discourse, -with a flagon of right Canary between us, and from one of these -exchanges sprang my delay. - -For he, talking of the writing of the rare Master Ben Jonson, spoke as -follows: - -“A poet indeed, but sure Mr. Tylliol, being a lover of verse and a -trafficker in its niceties, knows we have here in this rude Devonshire a -poet—nay, what say I?—_the_ poet of women and flowers and elves that -skip by moonlight, with like delights of the phantasy, such as rare Ben -or even the rarer Master Shakespeare cannot excel?” - -“Lord, sir!” says I. “I stand amazed. I knew it not. Who may the -gentleman be?” - -“I would not have you think,” he responded, “that this gentleman hath -the choir note of our young Milton, nor yet the plenteous invention of -Will Shakespeare. ’Tis a country Muse, but exquisite. A muse withal that -hath been to town and drest her lovely limbs in lawns and silks, and -wears pomander beads in her bosom. A Muse whose blush is claret and -cream commingled. And as I said, exquisite. A voice of Castaly.” - -“And what does the gentleman in the wilds and what is he?” asked I, -a-tip-toe with curiosity, for well you know my passion for these -rarities. And hastily I added: - -“Hath your honour any taste or relish of his verse at hand to whet my -appetite? For with poetry as with manners—from one can all be told.” - -He mused a moment smiling, then recited thus: - - “TO A LADY SINGING - - “So smooth, so sweet, so silvery is thy voice - As, could they hear, the damned would make no noise, - But listen to thee walking in thy chamber, - Melting melodious words to lutes of amber.” - -“O rare!” cried I, clapping my hands. “A right music, like drops of -honey distilling from the comb. Was this a happy chance, or may the -gentleman summon the delicate Ariel when he will?” - -He smiled, indulgent: - -“Since you compare the lines with honey, hear yet again.” I sat elate. - - “As Julia once a-sleeping lay - It chanced a bee did fly that way. - For some rich flower he took the lip - Of Julia, and began to sip. - But when he felt he sucked from thence - Honey (and in the quintessence) - He drank so much he scarce could stir - And Julia took the pilferer! - - “Sweet Lady-flower, I never brought - Hither the least one thieving thought. - But taking those rare lips of yours - For some fresh fragrant luscious flowers, - I thought I there might take a taste - Where so much sirop ran to waste. - Besides, know this,—‘I never sting - The flower that gives me nourishing.’ - This said, he laid his little scrip - Of honey ’fore her Ladyship, - And told her (as some tears did fall) - That this he took and that was all. - At which she smiled and bade him go - And take his bag; but this much know - When next he came a-pilfering so, - He should from her full lips derive - Honey enough to fill his hive.” - -“’Tis a pure seed-pearl,” said I. “Small but Orient. And now, Mr. -Delander my worthy friend, tell me where hides this shepherd of the -enchanted pipe, for if, as you say, in Devon, then Devon I will not quit -till with these tickling ears have I listened to his sweet pipings. And -if Julia be his neighbour, as we may suppose— O, sir, speak by the -cards and tell me true!” - -“There is,” he responded, “in this His Majesty’s shire of Devon, a very -savage forest, yet with no trees,—known as the Forest of Dartmoor. And -well may I call it savage, for there do savages harbour that would make -as little to slit a man’s throat and cast him in a slough as I to toss -this nut-shell. Of the roads to these parts, least said soonest -mended—sooner indeed than they. But know that around this execrable -miscreant of a Dartmoor lie little lovely villages full of a sweet -civility of flowers and hives of bees, and kine and pretty maids to milk -’em. And above all there is one called Dean Prior and of this the -spiritual shepherd is Mr. Robert Herrick.” - -“Sure his crook is wreathed with roses and the pretty lambs of the flock -have nought to fear from their shepherd,” says I. - -“I take your meaning, Mr. Tylliol, and yet—[he paused here with a -peculiar sweet smile]—though you might decipher much from his verses of -Julias, Dianemes, Perillas, and other charming ladies, and he is much -accused as a loose liver, ’tis possible to read his riddle wrong. Go -therefore and see him. I have known another who did this and returned -surprised. Yet cross not Dartmoor on your life, but go softly below it -where honest folk live. Also, a coach goes down two days hence within -two miles of the village and with it a riding guard. Take your stout -nag, and so God bless you and send you a happy meeting with a man not -commonly to be accosted.” - -’Twas in vain for me to beshrew and becall myself for the veriest ass -between this and London, and doubtless I had flinched from so great an -enterprise but that Mr. Delander poured verses more and more mellifluous -into mine ears until at last I was as Ulysses, drunk with the fierce -wine of the Sirens’ voices, and there being no mast whereto to bind me -and Mr. Delander full of laughing incitements, I set forth to follow the -track of music as a bee the track of the unseen rose’s perfume. - -Of the roads I forbear to speak, and the harbourage by the way would -willingly forget, but the air was sweet and fragrant with earliest -summer and the fields yet gilt with cowslips and I spied a few late -primroses lingering about the roots of trees in the shy copses. Also, an -exceeding delicate flower like a silver star, that made sweet -constellation in the lush grass. And could the courtesies of London be -imported I know not where a man might better fleet the hours than in -this warm and languid shire of Devon. - -So, on the fourth day we observed a wild mountain stream, browner than -October ale, that rushing danced to meet us, breaking in a thousand -showers, spray, and rillets among its rocks—a lovely thing to see and -hear—the youngest surely of the bright nymphs of the hills. - -“And this,” says the guard of the coach, “is the Dean Burn, and not far -off the Vicarage, and the few houses of the village are far down the -road where we shall presently come. So here, worshipful sir, we leave -you.” - -Then, being arrived and the coach still standing to discharge certain -packets for the parson I spied a comely man in middle age coming to meet -us. - -He was drest in hodden grey, clean but simple, his head bare and the -sunshine on it, and his eyes smiled with his mouth. And in that first -sight I gave my liking to Mr. Herrick, and so has it continued. - -I presented my letter from Mr. Delander, and of the cordial of my -welcome need I not to speak. - -“Nay, what favour?” said he. “Sure to a rustic that once knew London, -pinioned here to rude rocks and trees, ’tis like a scent of the kindly -civil streets to see an accomplished gentleman. Blush not, sir, for so I -have it under Mr. Delander’s hands and seal, and I know no better judge. -’Tis little I can give, but my pleasant maid, Prudence Baldwin, hath a -bed with sun-bleacht sheets in waiting for the traveller, and my roof is -weather-proof, and my little creeking hen, foreseeing a friend, hath -made shift to lay her long white egg, and this rascally riveret that I -have abused in verse, yet love, hath provided fresh-dewed cresses for -our meat. If with these and a very little more, my guest’s hunger can be -satiate, then welcome again—thrice welcome to Dean Prior.” - -With gladness I accepted, for the welcome was as much in his eye as on -his lip, and so we came to the low house seated in a small garden gay -with gilliflowers, culver-keys, sops-in-wine, lad’s love, and all the -outspread courtiers that pay homage to the rose. And roses he had, great -store, both damask and white, and the party-coloured York and -Lancaster—to the which he drew my notice. - -Lord, what a little house, and poor though neat, and yet with sparkles -of money here and there in a rich picture or two, and a settle and chest -carved by no ’prentice hand, and a worn but costly velvet cloak thrown -over the back. And a clock, grave as Time himself, with a dial curiously -illustrated with mottoes and cherubims. And before entering I took -notice that a sun-dial stood in the garden, with this verse engraved[2] -so as the gnomon should point the lesson: - -[2] The inscription on the sun-dial is my own. L. Adams Beck. - ------ - - “Shine, Sun of Righteousness, with beam more bright - Than this great dawn my dial doth invite, - And as the gnomon’s shadow doth incline - To tread his steps, let my sprite follow thine.” - -Which methought a devout reflection pleasing to Christian ears, and so I -said, but he smiling put it by. - -And now with a handsome curtsey Mrs. Prue met us, coming from her -kitchen, a kindly buxom woman with flowered skirt pulled up through her -pockets, and a cap white as the foam on Dean Burn, and in her hospitable -hand a little server, she pressing us to drink a cup of ale before our -dinner served. And so showed me to my little cell with lavender stuck in -the windows, and sheets that might have wrapt the smooth limbs of the -divine Julia, though I dare to say they never did. And since the bed was -spread with down pulled from the Vicar’s own geese it invited a pure and -honest slumber. - -But, marry! when we came to dine, that I thought should have been on -eggs and cresses at the best, here was a surprise. - -For before Master Vicar were laid two smoking trouts, broiled to a turn -over sea-coals. - -“And of these,” says mine host, “you may eat fearless, for they were -caught in Dean Burn, and of all clean livers commend me to the trout -that is indeed a dainty monsieur; and these inhabit in water clear as -crystal beams, unlike those degenerate fish that scavenge in Thames. And -moreover, these hands took them this morning, for I am a brother of the -rod, and love to sit a-angling and a-musing.” - -And needs must I say that these trout with Mrs. Prue’s sauce, the rich -droppings of the fish mixed with fresh sweet butter and the yolk of an -egg, was a dish for feasting Gods. - -’Twas followed by a bird trapt on the moor, of a reddish flesh and _haut -gout_ very delicious, and what should come after that but a junket with -nutmegs grated and clouted cream—so yellow, thick and mellow that I -praised and commended and Mr. Herrick heapt my platter until I cried -quarter. - -“Cream of cowslips,” says he, “for the meadows whence it was drawn are -gilt with their fragrant blossoms and the leisurely cows lie among them -and crush their sweetness as well as devour it. And if you condescend -later to taste it with a crust of Mrs. Prue’s bread and her marmalet of -crab-apples, you shall say it is good honest country fare if simple.” - -I rose content from a meal excelling all the varieties of rich men’s -tables, and on his proposal we sat a while under his honey-suckle bower -to look upon the prospect and digest our meat seemly, while Mrs. Prue -moved softly about the house clearing and cleansing. - -And seeing the moment favourable, I adventured a question much in my -mind. - -“Sir, in your divine and honey-golden verse, recited to me by our common -friend, Mr. Delander, you speak with opprobrium of this rude Devonshire. -Yet here I come and find you set amid delights of soul and body such as -a king might envy. Is it true that you, looking on these sweet hills and -meadows, this singing riveret and the hues and scents of your garden, -can wish yourself in the noise and foulness of towns? Resolve me this -doubt, for, trust me, it perplexes me.” - -He smiled a little. - -“Why, sir, is a poet wiser than another that he should not long for the -rainbow a field away? You are to take notice that when I lived in London -I abused the smells and sights and craved for country quiet. And now I -have it ’tis the other way about. But in all good soberness this is the -better life and I know it. Here is the eye enlarged to beauty, the ear -attuned to music celestial, and the company, though not choicely good, -is innocent, and if evil, hath no tinsel to hide its native ugliness.” - -He paused a moment as though to digest his thoughts and added: - -“Here we rise with Chanticleer and make the lamb our curfew, and the -day’s small cares ended and our souls committed to the Keeper who sleeps -not, we slumber discharged of griefs. And if our food be plain the -seasoning is thanks. - - “God, to my little meal and oil - Add but a bit of flesh to boil, - And Thou my pipkinet shalt see - Give a wave-offering unto Thee.” - -He smiled so cheerfully that I enquired: - -“Your own verse, reverend sir?” - -“My own. My Muse is not always concerned with ladies’ eyes nor with the -revels of Mab and Oberon whereof I have also delighted to write. She -kneels sometimes, face veiled. And these I call my Noble Numbers.” - -There was a moment’s silence, so great that through the singing of the -water I might hear the cropping of Clover-lips, his red cow. ’Twas not -long however before I resumed. - -“Then, sir, the country is now your choice preferred?” - -“I said not so. Nay, I long sometimes for the town. But I know and -scarce know how, that my lot will be cast there again for some sad -years, and then I shall return here to lay my bones in peace among my -people.” - -“Was this revealed to you in dream, sir? But this question is overbold. -Few men reveal their dreams.” - -“Mine,” says he, “are so chaste as I dare tell them. Yes, in a dream. -Doubtless induced by the present discontents which will wreck our good -King Charles and many lesser with him.” - -We discoursed of these, and with each word I liked mine host the better, -until his gentleness emboldened me so much that at the last I said; - -“And where, worthy sir, are the houses of the lovely and wealthy ladies -who keep you good company in summer sunshine and winter snow? Where -dwells the stately Mistress Julia, bright and straight as a garden -tulip, a flower which I confess the Roman name of Julia calls always to -my sight. Where the sparkling-eyed lady Dianeme, the shy Anthea, the -delicate Perilla light as a woodland anemone, and all this shining -garden of sweets that your muse commends to our worship? Let me own nor -blush for’t, that my journey, though undertaken to their poet, was -seasoned also with the hope to kiss their feet.” - -“Sir, you did well. The Hesperides are worth even a journey to Devon. -And doubtless you shall see the stately Julia, and the bright Anthea and -all the fair choir, but not yet. And now will I repeat you my latest -homage to one of these ladies, and then I must needs visit my sick while -you sit in the meadow and watch the milkmaid at her fragrant labour. - - “THE CURIOUS COVENANT - - “Mine eyes like clouds were drizzling rain, - And as they thus did entertain - The gentle beams from Julia’s light - To mine eyes levelled opposite, - O thing admired!—there did appear - A curious rainbow smiling there, - Which was the covenant that she - No more would drown mine eyes or me.” - -“O exquisite felicity!” cried I with delight. “And did it not move your -empress to mercy?” - -“It moved her, sir!” he answered with a subdued laughter. “And now must -I forth. Entertain yourself, I pray you.” - -He went toward the village, bearing in his hand a well-stored panier -brought forth by Mrs. Prue, in the which I might espy little pots and -pipkins clearly bespeaking a charitable heart. And when he disappeared I -took in hand the rod he commended to me and did go a-angling in the Dean -Burn. - -But the sun was bright and the water like dancing diamonds and its song -so dulcet that even with my good will I would fain leave the silly trout -in their crystal house, and so I e’en turned over in the short -sweet-smelling grass and there fell asleep and dreamed of Julia with her -smooth rubious lips and velvet cheek, and of the banquets of elves and -their midnight rejoicings, but dimly and with the sound of water in it -all, until I fell in the very deeps of slumber and dreamed no more. - -Suddenly and soon as it seemed, but was not, I heard a voice soft as a -cushat’s call me, and looking up drowsily beheld a pretty milkmaid -summon Clover-lips and Pretty Primrose, and they responded slow but -obedient. - -O charming sight, though the maiden wore but a homespun gown of blue and -had on her head nothing but a straw hat bought at the fair. For her skin -was cream with here and there a cowslip freckle, and she was -cherry-cheeked and had withal a soft black eye and two clear-marked -arches of brows, and lips that you would not have smile lest the perfect -bow unbend, nor smiling would have grave lest the quarrelet of pearls be -hidden. And about her neck and bosom was folded very modestly a -handkerchief tucked into her bodice. - -So I rose to my feet and made my bow, for beauty, though but in a -milk-maiden, is native to the skies and enforces homage, and the pretty -maid blushing dropt so deep a curtsey that I thought she must take root -in the grass like a flower, so long was it before she lifted the stars -of her eyes to mine. - -“I was bid by his Reverence, sir, to stroke you a syllabub,” says she. -“And will your Honour have it here and now, for I have the verjuice of -crab-apple and all needful?” - -“Here and now if you’ll favour me,” says I enchanted, and sat down to -watch the lovely sight. Nor could I have departed if even she had bid -me; - - “For in vain she did conjure him - To depart her presence so, - With a thousand tongues to allure him - And but one to bid him go. - When lips delight and eyes invite, - And cheeks as fresh as rose in June - Persuade delay, what boots she say: - ‘Forego me now; come to me soon.’” - -But indeed the lass was pleased I stayed, and dulcet her voice as she -rounded a song to coax the cows let down their milk. - -“For ’tis known they always milk best to music,” says she, “and often I -would have Jan Holdsworthy to bring his pipe and please ’em.” - -And thus I heard a Devon ballad, whereof a verse sticks in my head: - - “So Robin put on his Sunday clothes, - Which were neither tattered nor torn, - With a bright yellow rose as well as his shoes - He looked like a gentleman born, he did! - Ay, he did! Sure he did! - He looked like a gentleman born, he did.” - - “And—” - -“Nay, but I won’t sing the next bit,” says she with her head against the -cow’s warm silken side, and one bright black eye regardant. - -“And why, my pretty lass?” - -“Because Robin went for to be uncivil and kiss the maid in the song. But -she would have none of it and serve him right, for— - - “She gave him a smack in the face, she did! - Ay, she did! Sure she did! - She gave him a smack in the face, she did!” - -She trilled it out, defiant as a thrush at dawn, and I could have -committed Robin’s crime but for respect to her innocence and Mr. -Herrick’s hospitality. And sure never was a syllabub so delicate and -warm as this, strained from the balm-breathing kine through sunburnt -hands fresh rinsed with sparkling water from Dean Burn. - -I drank that wine of Nature’s brewing nor could be satisfied. And when -her pails foamed to the brim and Clover-lips and Pretty Primrose -returned disburdened to their cropping, says I: - -“Tell me, my pretty one, where are the great houses about these parts -where dwell the fair and splendid ladies who excel you in nothing but -their wealth? And do they come to the church o’ Sundays?” - -“Anan, sir?” says she, bewildered. - -“The ladies in silks and lawns and jewels,” I insisted. “Of whom I have -read as shedding the lustre of their graces even on these wild and -solitary meads.” - -Methinks my talk was too fine for her. She laught like one amazed. - -“Ladies, your honour, I know of none, nor never saw silk nor lawn nor -lady, nor heard of such but in the ballads the chapmen bring to the -fair.” - -“But sure there are great squires and lords in these parts and will have -their hunting and sports and their ladies to ride with them, and come to -church in coaches and on pillions a-Sundays?” - -“No, your honour, no,” says she. “I would it were so. ’Twere fine to see -the young madams, gay as kingfishers on Dean Burn, but never saw I one, -nor look to. And now I must be going, with your leave, for I must sit at -my wheel or our dame will know the reason.” - -And with another curtsey the fair pretty maid departed to her innocent -labour, and ’twas as though the sun went with her, so clear and lucid a -beam was she of youth and beauty. - -But she left me musing, for where and how should Mr. Herrick meet with -his fair ladies unless indeed he took horse and rode abroad, and I -perpended and resolved to watch, being sharp-set to see his peerless -beauties if I died for it. - -To grace our supper on Mr. Herrick’s return were the cresses from the -Dean Burn and little young radishes from the garden with a cream cheese -dewy in green leaves and a dish of eggs dressed in an amulet by Mrs. -Prue (and savoury meat they were) and a tansy pudding to follow. And if -I be charged with gluttony in thus citing I crave pardon, for I know not -how but the mind sat down with the body to the feast and both were -nourished. - -Mrs. Prue, the prudent, brought us after a very little glass each of -surfeit-water and of such comfort that I would needs have her recipe, -the which she imparted very gravely: - -“We take of red corn poppies a peck and put them in a dish with another -for cover, and so into the oven several times after the household bread -is drawn. We lay them in a quart of aqua vitæ [“And this,” interrupted -Mr. Herrick, “comes very good from the sea-covers by Plymouth, and is -brought to us on moor ponies.”] and thereto we add a race of ginger -sliced, nutmeg, cinnamon, mace, a handful of figs, raisins-of-the-sun, -aniseed, cardamom and fennel seeds, with a taste of lickorish. And so -lay some poppies in a great vessel and then the other ingredients and -more poppies and so continue till the vessel’s full. We then pour in our -aqua vitæ and let it so continue until very red with the poppies and -strong of the spice. We take from it what we need, adding more aqua -vitæ. And much good may it do your Honour for ’tis a known cordial.” - -“It is so!” says I sipping, “and trust me, I am beholden to you, good -Mrs. Prudence, and will benefit.” - -We left our glasses empty and betook ourselves to the bower in the -garden so twined and wreathed with the gold and amber horns of -honey-suckle spilling their fragrance that my soul was ravisht, and Mr. -Herrick fetching his lute saluted mine ears with strains celestial, -adding his voice thereto at moments, yet not loud but as if thinking -melodiously to himself in serene reverie in the deepening twilight. - - “Hear, ye virgins, and I’ll teach - What the times of old did preach. - Rosamund was in a bower - Kept, as Danae in a tower. - But yet Love who subtle is, - Crept to that, and came to this! - Be ye lockèd up like these - Or the rich Hesperides, - Or those babies in your eyes - In their crystal nunneries, - Notwithstanding Love will win - Or else force a passage in.” - -He plucked a few notes and was silent, for Philomel in a thorn beside -the Dean broke forth, amazing the night with harmony, and holding breath -we listened to the sweet delirium that hath enchanted the ages. - -She stopt as suddenly as she began and flew to some more distant groves -to duel with another songster as lovely, the moon herself in rising -seeming to pause and listen ere she ascended her silver throne. - -“Exquisite!” says he sighing. “How have I the rude audacity to match my -numbers with hers? Yet I too have my breast on a thorn and must sing or -die. And you assert that they please, Mr. Tylliol?” - -“They enchant,” cried I eagerly. “But, O, Mr. Herrick, my good host and -worthy friend, I beseech you reveal to me where hide the Hesperides you -celebrate in verse that will not die like Philomel’s. Few are my days -here. Let me not return empty. With the most awful reverence will I -stand at a distance to admire, nor with a thought smirch the crystalline -lawn that veils the bosom of Madam Julia or the silks that rustle in -Dianeme’s going. What—what are the earthly names of these admired -ladies?” - -“In one hour, when the moon is up and at full, then you shall meet -them,” says he. “For then they do use to give me gracious tryst beyond -Dean Burn at a certain place known to me and to them. And if their -beauty is not correspondent to your expectation, blame not them, but -consider rather the teaching of Plotinus his book wherein he writes: -‘That which sees must be kindred and similar to its object before it can -see it. Every man must partake of the divine nature before he can see -Divinity.’ So then, if they appear not lovely the fault is in the eye -that sees.” - -“But, sir,” says I bewildered; “is this so also with the perishable -beauty of women which leads man into ways unallied indeed with -Divinity?” - -He touched a few soft notes on the pensive strings, responding gravely: - -“That man hath never beheld the beauty of woman whom it leads downward, -but only a shadow and simulacrum, as it were; the false Duessa, whereas -the true Una (the One) is crowned with stars and in its nature -heavenly.” - -I have conversed, as is known to my friend, with many men counted high, -but, trust me, here with the world charmed by moonlight and the quiet -running of water, the voice of this man took on a quality unearthly and -you are to know that it moved me exceedingly as with something latent -and not to be exprest. Nor would I answer but sat attentive while he -pursued his thoughts aloud. - -“For so says also the wisest man that ever wore flesh (setting aside -only the Bright and Orient Star) and these are his words: ‘Such a man -uses the beauties of earth as steps whereon he mounts, going from fair -forms to fair deeds, and from fair deeds to fair thoughts, and from fair -thoughts attains to the Idea of Absolute Beauty. And if a man have eyes -to see this true Beauty he becomes the friend of God and immortal.’” - -And after this we both observed such a silence as when sweet music dies -and leaves the air ravisht and in ecstasy, and so sate I know not how -long until at last the moon glided over the trees and threw her light on -the Dean Burn. He then arose, still holding his lute. - -“You would see my beauties, Mr. Tylliol, and that you shall! Come with -me now.” - -And so led the way to a part where the water spread wide, glittering and -very shallow, and here great flat stepping-stones used by generations, -as he told me, and on these we crost and went on and up (our path clear -as day) until, it might be half a mile or more, we came to a singular -little amphitheatre (so I may call it) of turf, short and cropt and soft -as kings’ carpets, with thick bushes and trees and some rocks -surrounding it, very secret and secluded, enclosing it into a fair -pleasance but not large. - -“And here I often sit,” he whispered. “But go very softly.” - -And indeed a natural awe, of I know not what, fell on me and constrained -me into a breathless quiet, following him. - -So presently we seated ourselves on a low rock cushioned with moss, and -then taking his lute he began to play gently, but with such a -penetrating sweetness as Orpheus himself, who with his music melted the -hearts of trees and rocks, could scarce, I think exceed, yet most simple -withal. - -And the melody was singular, and with a delicate continuity like the -ceaseless running of rain or water, and after awhile it appeared to me -as if, like a revolving spinning wheel, it cast abroad silver threads -which mingling with the moonlight did dance and whirl and shape -themselves into changing forms (but I know not what) dissolving and -returning and re-shaping in a labyrinth that mazed me. And whether it -was my own brain that spun them (as in dream) I cannot tell, nor whether -they were real or imagined. - -But presently a sweetly lovely face peeped from the boughs, finger on -lips, the pointed chin elfish as though the cap should be a flower, a -truant indeed from Fairyland. And “Silvia!” he whispered, continuing to -play. She, if she it were, listened, archly smiling, a face and no more, -and suddenly the leaves closed about her, and nothing there. - -My breath stumbled in my throat, and I closed my eyes an instant, and -when again they opened, at the further end of the pleasance, but dim in -the moonlight as though in a mist of lawn and cobweb lace, I saw a lady -pace from one covert to the other. And myself this time, but whether -aloud I know not, said: “Madam Julia.” - -For she moved imperial, but her beauty I cannot itemize, nor know now -whether I saw or dreamed her lips— - - “Which rubies, corals, scarlets all - For tincture wonder at,—” - -nor the black splendour of her hair, and the proud dark glance she cast -about her in passing, nor the splendid sweeping of her gown. - -And even as she parted the boughs and Dian-like was hid among them, came -another following, but stepping lightly from behind a rock whereon a -tree laid leafy fingers of lucent green,—a creature of soft and -flower-wafting breezes, white and sunbeam-haired, and I dare swear the -ray of her eyes was blue, though see them I did not. - -And Mr. Herrick, speaking as in time to his lute, seemed to say: - - “Smooth Anthea for a skin - White and heaven-like crystalline,”— - -and she waved a moonbeam hand as he whispered and, springing as lightly -between the rocks and boughs as a leaping stream, was gone. - -Then suddenly his lute ceased as though to give place to a better and a -lady, robed in white, came cradling a lute to her bosom and singing—O -words melodious, melting into heavenly numbers—I believe I knew at the -blessed moment what they were but now have they slipt my gross -understanding. For ’twas indeed the choice Myrrha—O Music, O maid -divine, walking soundless as flowing water and bathing in her own sweet -harmonies as a Naiad in her native crystal. - -And even as she past, unheeding her worshipper, Mr. Herrick’s lute -resumed the strain. - -And now past two fair ladies, close entwined as Hermia and Helena, -whispering each in the other’s ear and casting oblique and tender looks -upon their poet, the one in a yellow robe like a spring daffodil and the -other in a most pure violet, perfume-breathing as the hue she wore. And -the first was crowned with may, white as ivory exprest in blossom, and -my heart said for me, “Corinna, who will go a-maying while the world -lasts. - - “She that puts forth her foliage to be seen, - And comes forth like the spring-time fresh and green, - And sweet as Flora.” - -And indeed she past me so near that I caught the almond-sweet breath of -her wreath. - -And the other sure was the lady Dianeme, for I knew her by her dancing -shining eyes and the bough of blossomed laylock in her hand. - - “Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes.”— - -Yet what could she be but proud of what the world counts among its -jewels? And after them came running the delicate Perilla to join herself -to their garland, and so smoothly did she glide that I looked to see her -shod with the winged sandals of Hermes, for not a blade bent as she -past, and so she slipt across the moonlight. - -And then a little crowd of sweet shadows—Perenna the lovely, Sappho -(but not she of the Leucadian rock), the Delaying Lady with handsome -sullen brows, and lips pouted in half disdain, the beloved Electra, -graceful as a harebell on a breeze, the reluctant Oenone and many -others, fair and Orient gems set in a carcanet for the Muse’s wearing. -And after them a young Cupid, kitten-eyed and mischievous with his bow -braced. - -And at this the air filled suddenly with nimble laughters and little -cries flipt with merry breath in the trees above us, and small shapes -drunk with dew and moonlight dropt from the boughs like spiders sliding -down their threads, so many that they pelted quick as rain-drops on the -turf. And, lo you! ’twas a rabble of Oberon’s courtiers tripping across -to set their mushroom tables in the shade retired from the moon of -night, and indeed, methought the Lady Moon leaned her golden chin on a -bar of cloud to watch the silly shower and laugh at their follies. - -But the voice of Mr. Herrick’s lute waxed faster and faster till it spun -a labyrinth of music wherein the fairies did flout and spin and stagger, -singing, and these words reached me but no more: - - “Through the forest, through the forest - I will track my fairy Queen, - Of her foot the flying footprint, - Of her locks the flying sheen.” - -And whether this was sung or danced I know not, for the moon dipt behind -a cloud, and all shapes from distinct became confused into a swift -murmur whether of sound or sight or the ripple of the Dean Burn I can -tell neither to myself nor others, only that presently there was -darkness and silence. Nor can I say whether hours or minutes had past -when Mr. Herrick laid his hand upon my arm and roused me from what I -took to be a deep meditation. - -“Dear guest,” says he, “you have slept long, and every leaf is pearled -in dew, and the Night would be secret with her subjects. We intrude. -Therefore rouse yourself, for Mrs. Prue will think us strayed sheep if -she wake, and indeed I will bespeak your soft treading for she is but a -crazy sleeper and hath of late been sick, almost to be lunatic, with a -pain in her teeth.” - -But I was stumbling as if heavy with sleep and could say naught, and so -we crost the shining water on the stones and returned wordless, and that -night I slept like a happy spirit in the dewy meads of heaven. - -Not a word said the next day and Mr. Herrick almost distraught with -busyness for the riding post brought him letters from his rich London -kin and the news of growing troubles between King and Parliament very -piercing to his honest heart. - -And on the day following my nag was saddled, and the coach returning on -its way to Exeter I was to ride with it for security, but still not a -word said on the matter nearest my soul. - -Then as we waited for the wheels,—I having bid Mrs. Prue a kindly -farewell with a vail which but ill compensated her hospitable services, -Mr. Herrick said musingly: - -“Once, Mr. Tylliol, I made a verse on Dreams, in the which this was -writ: - - “‘Here are we all by day; by night we are hurled - By dreams, each one into a several world.’ - -“And I have read in ancient books that it is not impossible but a man -may be hurled into another man’s world or House of Dreams—not often -indeed but once in a great while. And if this be so and it seems to that -visitant a house of lunacies or moonstruck madness (as well it may), -shall there be pardon for his dream-host therein?” - -And I: - -“Sir, not a house of lunacies, but a house of enchantments whereof I -would I had the freehold! And if you had any part in unlocking the door -(whereof I know not what to think) take my loving and humble thanks and -again make me welcome when leagues lie between us. For dreams ask -neither wheels nor hoofs to carry them.” - -And he smiling said: - -“Come!” - -So, lovingly we parted and the enchanted place grew small and dim, -receding behind me, and with fleshly eyes never again shall I see the -clear running of Dean Burn and the lush meadows where fair Margery -stroked me a syllabub of cowslip cream. But Mr. Herrick shall I see, for -his dreams are not as other men’s and he comes, I know, sooner or later, -to London. - -Now what all this means, I cannot know but may guess, and on that I say -no more. Let each man read it as he can. But never again tell me that -Mr. Herrick is a loose liver because his Muse dwells like a dove in the -warmth of ladies’ bosoms, for I know better. - -“Jocund his Muse was, but his life was chaste,” is the self-chosen Finis -to his book, and well it may. - -And for a last gift he slipt into my hand at parting his latest verses -or effusion to Madam Julia, whose stately pacing haunts me yet and ever -will. - - “This day, my Julia, thou must make - For Mistress Bride the wedding cake. - Knead but the dough and it will be - To paste of almonds turned by thee. - Or kiss it thou but once or twice - And for the bride-cake there’ll be spice.” - -And to me those words will ever bring the scents and fragrance and the -dreams of Dean Prior, and as for the cake, ’twill be eat beyond Dean -Burn on the little mushroom tables of fay and ouphe and elf, and the -drink shall be a pearl of dew for each, served in the purple of a -pregnant violet. - -And so ends my letter but much more and stranger things shall I tell -when I come to my friend. - - - - - THE ISLAND OF PEARLS - THE HIDDEN HEART OF CEYLON - - - - - THE ISLAND OF PEARLS - - THE HIDDEN HEART OF CEYLON - - -The Island of Pearls, shaped like a dewdrop hanging from the lotus petal -of India, is loveliest of the Oceanides, a Nereid floating on blue -tropic seas. She is a voluptuous beauty, jewelled, languid, fanned by -spiced airs, crowned with flowers, dusky, sultry, with strange romances -in her past as she went from lover to lover, faithful only to one, the -eternal sea. Colombo flames on you in the sun, hidden in trees so deep, -so green that if you climb a hill the town is lost like a bird’s nest in -the tangle of vegetation. And what trees!—unlike the pensive elm and -poplar, the ribbed oak of the West, these burst into flowers and a -spendthrift fire of life. There is a giant covered with clusters of -mauve blossoms like the rhododendron—I could not leave it—I was caught -like a bee by its huge glory towering up into the sunshine. It bathed -every sense in delight to stand beneath and see the larkspur blue of the -sky through the crowded bloom. Others more austerely beautiful with -faint rose and white crocus flowers springing from the grey stem and -loading the air with perfume, and for the background the grace and -grandeur of the palms balancing their frondure in the blue. There are no -words to describe these things. Only in colour or music can their -splendour be told. - -And the lavish fruit! Mangosteens, mangoes, papayas, oranges,—Aladdin’s -jewels of wizard gardens. And the jewels themselves, for Ratnapura, the -City of Gems, is near at hand. Moonstones heaped in great pearl-shells, -like silvery blue moonlight touched with swimming gleams of gold, great -cats’ eyes with oblique pupils, aqua-marines of purest sparkling green, -sea water dipped up from the secrecies of deepest depths, wine-dark -jargoons, tourmalines many-hued as spring flowers, sapphires ranging -from pale azure to ocean blue, carbuncles that flame in ancient legends -as sacred jewels, all these and many more Ceylon displays like the Queen -she is. And the sea is as the jewels—all light and glitter and the -broken glories of rolling surf. It is these things which have made her -the desire of men’s eyes from time immemorial—the Island of the blue -horizon, scarcely believable for beauty and wonder. Hear Abdulla, called -Wassaf, the poet of Siraf in Persia, when he wrote of her long centuries -ago: - -“When Adam was driven forth from Paradise God made a mountain of Ceylon -the place of his descent, to break the force of change and so assuage -his fall. The charms of this fair country, the softness of the air, are -beyond all telling. White amber is the dregs of its sea, and its indigo -and red bakam are cosmetics for beauty. The leaves, the barks, and the -sweating of its trees are cloves, spikenard, aloe wood, camphor and -fragrant mandel. Its icy water is a ball of muneya for the fractures of -the world. The boundaries of its fields refresh the heart like the -influence of the stars. The margins of its regions are the bedfellows of -loveliness. Its myrobalums impart the blackness of youthful hair, and -its peppercorns put the mole on the face of beauty on the fire of envy. -Its rubies and carnelians are like the lips and cheeks of charming -girls, and its treasures are as oceans full of polished gems. Indeed the -various birds are sweet singing parrots and the pheasants of its gardens -are graceful peacocks.” - -So they told of her, and merchants came from the end of the earth to -trade in the wonders of Serendib, bringing and taking riches, and not -only riches but tales of wildest wonder and romance. They said the -people were descended from a royal lion and hence their name -Singhalese—Singha, a lion. They said she breathed her sweetness for -miles out to sea and that before the shore rose from the horizon the air -was languid with her spices and perfumes. Was this true or hyperbole? It -is at least certain that in many parts of the island the wild lemon -grass is almost overwhelming in its odour and many of the flowers scent -all the world about them. The tropical sun and hot dewy moisture -stimulate plant life into a passionate luxuriance of fragrant beauty. -Horror too, for there are blossoms whose name of Stercula foetida tells -all that need be told of their loathsomeness. - -In this strange land the sands of some of the rivers are minute rubies -and garnets, and it is of Serendib the story was told of serpents that -guarded the precious jacinths, and the stratagem of the merchants in -flinging pieces of meat into deep valleys where they lay, that hovering -eagles might strike their talons in the meat encrusted with jewels and -carry it to their nests in the rocks, where ready hands could seize it. -The jacinths have become diamonds in the Arabian Nights, but we all know -the story in the mouth of Sindbad the sailor of perilous seas. - -And the merchants had terrible tales to tell of the women of the island. -They were sirens as dangerous as ever sought to beguile Ulysses. Some of -them dwelt in a great city of iron on the coast with fluttering signals -on their towers to lure sea-farers, and when the eager boats made for -the shore women of the most alluring loveliness, perfumed and garlanded, -ran to meet them, stretching passionate arms, wooing them to enter the -city. There they caressed them until every sense was drowned in delight, -when bound and helpless, they flung them into iron cages and devoured -them one by one. - -The merchants were the great romancers of the ancient world—the singers -of songs, the tellers of tales, and surely they had the right, for is -there more romance in any word than in their own name? It calls up -mirage after mirage of wearied camel caravans toiling through deserts of -sand to cities that were old when Balkh and Damascus were young; where -the blue and glittering domes of porcelain rise against intenser skies -in sunsets sonorous as a gong with deep light and colour. It is the -merchants always who carry romance and adventure in their corded bales. -In robe and turban they yearn for the caravanserais and the men coming -by many ways to the meeting place. They hunger for the flat hot cakes -seed-sprinkled, and the savoury smells of the kous-kous bubbling in oil, -but most of all for the excitements and lusts of the bazaar and the -dangerous winding ways of forbidden palaces. See them unroll the gold -and flowered stuffs of Bokhara, the silks from Cos as transparent as -running water that gave the fair Pamphila the glory of having invented a -dress “in which women were naked though clothed.” See the muslins of -Dacca unloosed from the swaying camel-packs;—the merchants can scarcely -handle them lest a faint breeze blow them from their hold, for of these -it is told that the Emperor, Akbar, the Truth-Seeker, rebuked a woman -who appeared before him robed in woven air, saying, “Little does it -become a daughter of the Prophet to show herself arrayed in one dress -only and that, as it were, nothing, being but the illusion of a -garment.” And she replied audaciously: “Majesty, Light of the Age, I am -more modest than modesty’s self, for I wear at this moment _Nine_.” - -Through all the stories of Ceylon the merchants go, tempting the -perilous seas in frail dromonds and crank high-decked galleons, tempted -in turn by princesses, more perilous than the seas, shooting dangerous -glances through rose-coloured veils. Sometimes their historic quests -were wild as any dream. It was rumoured over Asia that the lost Tree of -Life grew in the jungles of this fortunate Island and a King of Persia -and Emperor of China sent their merchants with huge wealth to buy its -precious leaves—more than ever precious in the intrigues of Oriental -Courts—but only to find it grows in a Paradise more far away than even -the famed Serendib, and that no merchants, young and ardent, grave and -bearded, could lay that merchandise before the throne. - -Ceylon figures in one of the most ancient epics of the world—the -Ramayana, for it was Ravana the demon King of Ceylon (Lanka) who seized -the lovely Sita, wife of the God-King Rama as she wandered in the -forest, and bore her through the air to his island kingdom. The writer -of the poem was a mighty poem maker: Valmiki,—let his name be fragrant -for all time! And like all his divine brotherhood he was first taught by -sorrow. For sitting one day in the heart of the woods, Valmiki beheld -two herons singing for joy and love as they wandered together by air and -water, and as he gladdened to their gladness, an archer shot the male -bird and he fell bathed in blood, never again to sweep the wing-ways of -the sky, and his mate fluttered about him in agony. So Valmiki, with the -wrath and power of a poet, cursed the man who had done this black deed, -and, as he spoke, suddenly he knew that his words were a measured music -and that a new and wonderful thing had befallen in the world. And so it -was, for Brahma appeared in the cloud, four-faced, majestic, and -commanded him to write the history of Rama and the storming of Ceylon in -this same mysterious music. “And it shall be true in every word,” said -the God, “and so long as the world lasts shall this story be known among -men.” And that was the beginning of poetry in India. - -Perhaps this is the chief fame of Ceylon, for the God spoke not in vain. -There is no city now so lovely as that of which Valmiki tells—the city -of jewelled pavements and windows of glimmering crystal and the cloudy -palaces where the cruel King dwelt and where Sita was a captive. -For—“Here dwelt the fair princesses torn by him from vanquished Kings. -Now it was night and they lay overpowered with wine and sleep. One had -her head thrown backward; some had their garlands crushed; some lay in -each other’s bosoms, or with arms interlaced, others in slumber deep as -death. The King Ravana lay on a dais apart made of crystal and adorned -with jewels. Here lay he overcome with wine, with glittering rings in -his ears and robed in gold, breathing like a hissing serpent. Around him -lay his sleeping Queens, and nearest him the dearest, the golden-hued -Mandodari.” - -So the story runs through all its epic wonder of love and war, and -yearly in India is celebrated the harrying of Ravana—I have seen his -ten-headed image go up in flames amid the rejoicing of a multitude. Yet, -as I think, the ancient city, Anaradhapura, now a ruin in the jungle, -could not have fallen so far behind the splendours of Valmiki. Many who -have visited it have written of it as it is in death—the broken -fragments of palaces and temples, a few preserved here and there like -rocks that are the survival of some lost Atlantis in the drowning ocean -of the forest. How few recall it as it was in its pride and power! I -stood in the green dimness of the glades where are the sculptured tanks -where the queens bathed in days long dead, and read the words of one who -knew it well—Fa Hien, the Chinese Buddhist pilgrim of the fourth -century A. D. For this was the Anaradhapura of the Ceylon he visited in -search of the words of the Lord Buddha; of himself he speaks in the -third person: - -“To the north of the royal city is erected a great tower in height 470 -feet,—it is adorned with gold and silver and perfected with every -precious substance. There is by the side of it a monastery containing -5000 priests. They also have built here a hall of the Lord which is -covered with gold and silver engraved work. In the midst of this hall is -a jasper figure (of the Buddha) in height about 22 feet. The entire body -glitters and sparkles with the seven precious substances. In the right -hand he holds a pearl of inestimable value. Fa Hien had been absent many -years from China; the manners and customs of these people were entirely -strange to him, moreover his fellow travellers were now separated from -him, for some had remained behind and some were dead. All at once as he -stood by this jasper figure, he beheld a merchant present to it as a -religious offering a fan of white silk of Chinese manufacture. -Unwittingly Fa Hien gave way to his sorrowful feelings and the tears -flowed from his eyes.” - -Those tears, dried so long since, gave to this Western pilgrim, standing -in the same place, the true Virgilian sense of tears in mortal things, -and still they move the world. - -Ceylon is a land of the Gods. They have left their footprints very plain -upon this radiant loveliness as they came and went. She has known many -generations of them. All who would understand her should read Valmiki’s -semi-divine poem of the great battles of Rama, God-King of India, as he -fought here his wars of the Gods and Titans to rescue his wife, the -lovely Sita, the heart’s love and worship to this day of his dominion. - -Here, when the Demon King held her in captivity, the army of Rama strode -across the bridge of scattered rocks between Ceylon and India. Still may -be seen the gap that no strength, human or divine, could pass, where the -mighty host was stayed, until a little tree squirrel, for love of Rama, -laid his small body in the hollow, and because love is the bridge -eternal between the two worlds, the rescuing host passed triumphant over -it. But Rama, stooping from his Godhead, Incarnation as he was in human -flesh of Vishnu the Preserver, lifted the crushed body tenderly and -touched the dead fur, and to this day, the tree squirrels bear the marks -of the divine fingers upon their coats of grey. - -There is no demarcation in Asia between the so-called animal and human -lives. Rama himself had passed through the animal experience on the -upward way and knew well what beats in the little heart beneath fur and -feather. - -In those wonderful parables, the Birth Stories of the Lord Buddha, are -recorded his supposed memories of the incarnations of bird, animal and -other lives through which a steadfast evolution led him to the Ten -Perfections. How should he not know, and knowing love? Is it not written -by a great Buddhist saint: “It may well be that to the eye of flesh, -plants and trees appear to be gross matter; but to the eye of the Buddha -they are composed of minute spiritual particles; grass, trees, countries -the earth itself, shall enter wholly into Buddhahood”? And does not -science, faltering far behind the wisdom of the mighty, adumbrate these -truths in its later revelations? - -We know too little of the wisdom of the East. The Magi still journey to -Bethlehem, but only those who have the heart of the Child may receive -their gold, myrrh, and frankincense. - -Yet, for mere beauty’s sake, these stories of the East should be read. -Men thrill to the mighty thunder-roll of Homer’s verse, but the two -supreme epics of India are little known. If the West would gather about -the story-teller as the East gathers, in bazaar or temple court, the -stories should be told from these and other sources, until Rama stands -beside the knightly Hector, and Sita’s star is set in the same heaven -where shines the lonely splendour of Antigone. - -When the rapturous peace of the Lord Buddha could no longer be contained -within the heart of India, it overflowed, and like a rising tide -submerged Ceylon. And now, although India has forgotten and has returned -to the more ancient faiths, Ceylon remembers. The Lotus of the Good Law -blossoms in every forest pool. The invocation to the Jewel in the Lotus -is daily heard from every monastery of the Faith, where the yellow-robed -Brethren still follow the way marked for them by the Blessed One who in -Uruvela attained to that supernal enlightenment of which he said, “And -that deep knowledge have I made my own—that knowledge, hard to -perceive, hard to understand, peace-giving, not to be gained by mere -reason, which is deeper than the depths, and accessible only to the -wise. - -“Yet, among living men are some whose eyes are but a little darkened -with dust. To them shall the truth be manifest.” - -If it be an aim of travel to see what is beautiful and strange, it may -be also an aim to seek that spiritual beauty where it sits enthroned in -its own high places; and my hope in Ceylon was to visit the land where -that strait and narrow way of Buddhism is held which is known as the -Hinayana—or the Lesser Vehicle. In Tibet, China, and Japan, I had known -the efflorescence of the Buddhist Faith where, recognizing the mystic -emanations of the Buddhas, it becomes the Greater Vehicle and breaks -into gorgeous ritual and symbolism, extraordinarily beautiful in -themselves, and yet more so in their teaching. Buddhism, in those -countries, like the Bride of the Canticles, goes beautifully in jewels -of gold and raiment of fine needlework, within her ivory palaces. In -Ceylon, like the Lady Poverty of Saint Francis of Assisi, she walks with -bared feet, bowed head, her begging-bowl in hand, simple and austere in -the yellow robe of the Master—her rock-temples and shrines as he -himself might have blessed them in their stern humility. Save at the -Temple of the Tooth, the splendours she heaps upon his altars are those -of her flowers. With these she may be lavish because his life was -wreathed with their beauty. He was born in a garden, beneath a Tree he -attained Wisdom, in a garden he died. A faith that is held by nearly -every tenth living man or woman is surely worthy of reverence and study, -even in these hurrying days when gold, not wisdom, is the measure of -attainment. - -So I came to Ceylon for the first time but not for the last. - - * * * * * - -Near a little town in the hills stands a Wihara—a monastery—dreaming -in the silent sunshine. The palms are grouped close about the simple -roofs—so close that the passing tourist could never guess that the Head -of the Buddhist Faith in Ceylon, a great saint, a great ruler of seven -thousand priests, dwelt there in so secret, so complete an austerity. - -He was a very old man when I came, but his ninety-two years sat lightly -on him and each year had laid its tribute of love and honour at his -feet. He was known as the Maha Nayaka Thero; and in religion, for the -love of the Master, he had taken the Master’s human name of Siddartha. -It was strange indeed to see the simplicity of his surroundings;—to me -it appeared singularly beautiful: it breathed the spiritual purity that -had made him beloved throughout the island. - -A great scholar, deeply learned in Sanskrit and Pali and in the abtruse -philosophy that is for the elders of the Law, he was yet the gentlest of -men, and his very learning and strength were all fused into a benignant -radiance that sunned the griefs of the world he had cast so far behind -him. - -I was glad to wander about in the quiet monastery—the little -one-storied quadrangle on the side of the hill. It offered—it -invited—the life of meditation, of clear thought, of delicate -austerity. The noise of great events (so-called) was like the dim murmur -of a shell when they reached the Wihara and the ear of Sri Siddartha. -But he heard, he noted the progress of science, even to the -possibilities of aviation, because to a Buddhist saint all spheres of -knowledge are one, and all nothing, in the Ocean of Omniscience. - -So the people brought their grievances and troubles to the aged -Archbishop. You were in the presence of a very great gentleman when you -entered and found him seated, his scribe cross-legged at his feet to -record what passed. The people would approach him softly and with the -deepest reverence, and with permission would seat themselves on the -ground at a due distance. - -“Venerable Sir, we are in trouble. We seek your counsel.” That was the -cry. And always, in spite of his many years, he listened and counselled -and comforted. - -Soon after my arrival his birthday was celebrated with much rejoicing. -The Bhikkus (monks) had put up little festive bamboo arches, fluttering -with split palm-leaves like ribbons, all about the Wihara, and troops of -Bhikkus came to lay their homage at his feet. The roads were sunshiny -with their yellow robes as they flocked in from remote places—jungle, -cave-temples, and far mountains. The laity came also, crowding to see -the Venerable One. He received them all with serene joy, and pursued his -quiet way, thinking, reading, meditating on the Three Jewels—the Lord, -the Law, and the Communion of Saints. And the Bhikkus departed, -believing that he might be among them for many days. - -But it was not to be; for, a few days later, while he was sweeping the -garden walks, a duty he had made his own, he felt a sudden loss of -strength, and lying down, in two hours he passed painlessly away. - -I was permitted to visit Sri Siddartha as he lay in death. The room was -very simple and bare. Many of his Bhikkus stood about him, and there -were flowers, flowers, everywhere. Beside him burned a perfumed gum, -sending up its thin blue spirals of fragrance. - -I was received with perfect kindness, and especially by his favourite -disciple and pupil—a young monk with a worn ascetic face, who stood in -deep meditation at the head of his Master. He looked up and smiled, and -raised the face-cloth that I might see, and looked down again at the -brown face, calm as a mask of Wisdom with its closed lips and eyes. Even -closed, they looked old—old. A Bhikku, standing by, told me that all -had loved him and were bereaved in his going. “But for him—he is in the -Nirvana of Paradise.” - -The strange phrase awoke in my mind the words of the Blessed One, and I -repeated them as I stood beside that quiet sleep. - -“But this, O Bhikkus, is the highest, this is the holiest wisdom—to -know that all suffering has vanished away. He has found the true -deliverance that lies beyond the reach of change.” - -And I remembered the symbolic fresco in Colombo, representing the Lord -Buddha borne dead on a chariot in a garden. The gardener digs his grave, -but the Lord awakes from death, and bids the man know he is not dead but -living. The Buddha stands majestic by the open grave—the gardener -recoils in fear. Death has no more dominion. - -So I left Sri Siddartha lying in the mystery where all the wisdoms are -one. - -In the garden, in the riot of tropical blossom and beauty, a Bhikku was -standing in the perfect stillness that is a part of the discipline. He -greeted me, and we spoke of my quest. - -“Go,” he said, “to Mihintale, where the Law first came to this island by -the hands of Mahinda. Seek also the great Dagoba where stand the images -of the Buddhas that have been and of Him who is to come. And under the -Tree which is a part of that Tree beneath which the Blessed One received -illumination, meditate on Truth.” - -I delayed only that I might see the flames receive the discarded body of -the Venerable One; and the ceremony took place next day, amid a vast -gathering of the people and the great companies of the Bhikkus. They -flooded the ways with sunshine in every shade of yellow, from deep -primrose to a tawny orange. The roads were strewn, with rice like -snowflakes, stamped into star-shapes. A strange melancholy music went -with us. So, climbing a steep hill, we came to the pyre, heaped with the -scented and aromatic woods of the jungle, and closed from human view by -a high scaffolding draped with bright colours. On this pyre he was laid, -and one of his own blood, holding a torch, applied the pure element to -the wood: and, as he did so, the assembly raised a cry of “Sadhu, -Sadhu!” and with that ascription of holiness a sheet of flame swept up -into the crowns of the palms, and the scent of spices filled the air. -And even as the body of the Blessed One passed into grey ash, passed -also the worn-out dwelling of Sri Siddartha. - -I made my way next day to a temple hollowed in the rock, the ceiling of -which is frescoed with gods and heroes. It is taught that here the Canon -of the Buddhist Scriptures was first committed to writing about 450 B.C. -Here five hundred, priests, learned in the Faith, assembled, and -collating the Scriptures, chanted every word, while the scribes recorded -them with stylus and palm-leaf as they heard. Burmese, Tibetans, -Indians, all were present, that so the Law might be carried over Asia, -and the Peace of the Blessed One be made known to men. - -Here, too, the discipline was fixed. The Bhikku must not be touched by a -woman’s hand. He must eat but twice a day, and not after noon. He must -keep the rule of the Lady Poverty as did Saint Francis. He must sleep -nowhere but in Wiharas and other appointed places. And these are but a -few of the commands. Yet, if the rule is too hard for him, the Bhikku -may relinquish it at his will, and return to the world a free man—a -fettered man, as the Master would have said, but free according to the -rule of the Transient World. It is said that few accept this permission. - -It took little imagination to people the silent temple with the -Assembly—the keen intellectual Indian faces, the yellow robe and the -bared shoulder, seated in close ranks in the twilight of the temple. Now -it was silent and empty, but a mysterious aura filled it. The buildings -of men’s hands pass away, but the rock, worn not at all, save where feet -come and go, preserves the aspect of its great day, when it was the -fountain-head of Truth. - -A solemn gladness filled the air. Surely the West is waking to the -message of the East—that message, flowing through the marvellous art of -China and Japan, through the deep philosophies of India, the great -Scriptures of the Buddhist Faith, and many more such channels. And we -who have entered the many mansions through another gate may share and -rejoice in the truths that are a world-heritage. - -It was time now that I should visit the holy places, and I took the road -through the jungle, intending to stay at the little rest-houses which -exist to shelter travellers. The way is green with grass in the middle; -there are two tracks for wheels—narrow and little used. Even the native -huts may sometimes be forty miles apart. And on either side runs the -huge wall of the jungle, holding its secret well. - -Great trees, knotted with vines and dark with heavy undergrowth, shut me -in. Sometimes a troop of silver-grey monkeys swept chattering overhead; -sometimes a few red deer would cross the road, or a blue shrike flutter -radiantly from one shelter to another. Mostly, the jungle was silent as -the grave, but living, breathing, a vast and terrible personality; an -ocean, and with the same illimitable might and majesty. Travelling -through it, I was as a fish that swims through the green depths of -water. - -So I journeyed in a little bullock cart—and suddenly, abruptly, as if -dropped from heaven, sprang out of the ocean of the jungle that bathed -its feet a huge cube of rock nearly five hundred feet high, with lesser -rocks spilt about it that would have been gigantic were it not for the -first—the famous Sigurya. - -An ancient people, led by a parricide king, took this strange place and -made of it a mighty fortress. They cut galleries in the living rock -that, like ants, they might pass up and down unharmed from below; and on -the head of the rock—a space four acres in extent—they set a king’s -palace and pleasance, with a bathing-tank to cool the torrid air. Then, -still desiring beauty, this people frescoed the sheer planes of this -precipitous rock of Sigurya with pictures that modern Singhalese art -cannot rival. These vast pictures represent a procession of ladies to a -shrine, with attendants bearing offerings. Only from the waist upward -are the figures visible; they rise from clouds as if floating in the -sky. The faces have an archaic beauty and dignity. One, a queen, crowned -and bare-bosomed, followed by attendants bearing stiff lotus blooms, is -beautiful indeed, but in no Singhalese or Indian fashion—a face dark, -exotic, and heavy-lidded, like a pale orchid. It is believed the whole -rock was thus frescoed into a picture-gallery, but time and weather have -taken toll of the rest. - -The Government has put steps and climbing rails, that the height may be -reached. Half-way up is a natural level, and above it soars the -remainder of the citadel, to be climbed only by notches cut in the rock, -and hand-rails as a safeguard from the sheer fall below. And here this -dead people had done a wonderful thing. They had built a lion of brick, -so colossal that the head towered to the full height of the ascent. It -has fallen into ruin, but the great cat-paws that remain indicate a -beast some two hundred feet high. There is a gate between the paws, and -in the old days they clambered up through the body of the lion and -finally through his throat, into the daylight of the top. Only the paws -are left, complete even to the little cat-claw at the back of each. -Surely one of the strangest approaches in the world! Here and there the -shelving of the rock overhangs the ascent, and drops of water fall in a -bright crystal rain perpetually over the jungle so far below. - -Standing upon the height, it was weirdly lovely to see the eternal -jungle monotonously swaying and waving beneath. I thought of the strange -feet that had followed these ways, with hopes and fears so like our own. -And now their fortress is but a sunny day’s amusement for travellers -from lands unknown, and the city sitteth desolate, and the strength of -their building is resumed into the heart of nature. But the places where -men have worshipped and lifted their hands to the Infinite are never -dead. The Spirit that is Life Eternal hovers about them, and the green -that binds their broken pillars is the green of an immortal hope. - -The evening was now at hand, and, after the sun-steeped day, the jungle -gave out its good smells, beautiful earth-warm smells like a -Nature-Goddess, rising from the vast tangle of life in the mysterious -depths. You may gather the flowers on their edge and wonder what the -inmost flowers are like that you will never see—rich, labyrinthine, -beyond all thought to paint. - -The jungle is terrible as an army with banners. Sleeping in the little -rest-house when the night has fallen, it comes close up to you, -creeping, leaning over you, calling, whispering, vibrating with secret -life. A word more,—only one,—a movement, and you would know the -meaning and be gathered into the heart of it; but always there is -something fine, impalpable, between, and you catch but a breath of the -whisper. - -Very wonderful is the jungle! In the moonlight of a small clearing I saw -the huge bulk of three wild elephants feeding. They vanished like -wraiths into the depths. The fireflies were hosting in the air like -flitting diamonds. Stealthy life and movement were about me: the jungle, -wide-awake and aware, moving on its own occasions. - -A few days later I was at Anaradhapura. Once a million people dwelt in -the teeming city. Here or near was the site visited by the famous -Chinese pilgrim already mentioned, Fa Hien. But it is in ruins; the -jasper image is gone. The tower is in the dust. A few priests watch by -the scene of so much dead greatness and receive the pilgrims who still -come with bowed heads to the Holy Places. But Fa Hien has reached the -home of all the pilgrimages—the City of God dear and desirable in the -sight of Plato and Saint Augustine, and all the warriors of all the -faiths, and the inexorable years that have devoured the splendours of -the Kings leave untouched his tears and his hope, for both are rooted in -immortality. - -He writes: - -“The houses of the merchants are very beautifully adorned. The streets -are smooth and level. At this time the King, being an earnest believer -in the Law, desired to build a new monastery for this congregation. He -chose a pair of strong oxen and adorned their horns with gold, silver -and precious things. Then providing himself with a beautiful gilded -plough, the King himself ploughed round the four sides of the allotted -space, after which, ceding all personal rights, he presented the whole -to the priests.” - -This must be the monastery described by a later pilgrim, Hieuen Tsang, -who journeyed from China to India about the year 630 A.D. In visiting -Ceylon, he writes of its magnificence and especially of an upright pole -on the roof “on which is fixed a mighty ruby. This gem constantly sheds -a brilliant light which is visible day and night for a long distance and -afar off appears like a bright star.” - -That too is quenched in the dust. Where do the great jewels of antiquity -hide? But one is left at Anaradhapura more precious than rubies—the -famous image of the Buddha seated alone in a forest glade, the true -presentment of a God, to whom beneath his closed eyes eternity is -visible and time the shadow of a dream. Around him surged once the -clamour of a great city, around him now the growth of the forest, both -to his vision alike—and nothing. Some wayfarer had laid a flower at his -feet when I stood there, and a white tassel of the areca palm. The sun -and moon circle before him in this lonely place and the centuries pass -like seasons. - - “Forgetful is green earth; the God alone - Remember everlastingly.” - -The place is a village lost in the woods, but inexpressibly holy because -it contains in its own temple the sacred Bodhi Tree which is an offshoot -of that very Tree beneath which the Lord Buddha received the Perfect -Wisdom. Ceylon desired this treasure, and they tried to break a branch -from the Tree, but dared not, for it resisted the sacrilege. But the -Princess Sanghamitta, in great awe and with trembling hand, drew a line -of vermilion about the bough, and at that line it separated from the -Tree, and the Princess planted it in perfumed earth in a golden vase, -and so brought it, attended by honours human and superhuman, to -Ceylon—to this place, where it still stands. It is believed to be 2230 -years old. - -With infinite reverence I was given two leaves, collected as they fell; -and it is difficult to look on them unmoved if indeed this Tree be -directly descended from the other, which sheltered the triumphant -conflict with evil. - -The city itself is drowned in the jungle. In the green twilight you meet -a queen’s palace, with reeling pillars and fallen capitals, beautiful -with carved moonstones, for so are called the steps of ascent. Or lost -in tangle, a manger fifty feet long for the royal elephants, or a nobly -planned bath for the queens, where it is but to close the eyes and dream -that dead loveliness floating in the waters once so jealously guarded, -now mirroring the wild woodways. A little creeper is stronger than all -our strength, and our armies are as nothing before the silent legions of -the grass. - -Later, I stood before the image of that Buddha who is to come—who in -the Unchanging awaits his hour; Maitreya, the Buddha of Love. A majestic -figure, robed like a king, for he will be royal. In his face, calm as -the Sphinx, must the world decipher its hope, if it may. Strangely -enough, in most of his images this Saviour who shall come is seated like -a man of the West, and many learned in the faith believe that this -Morning Star shall rise in the West. May he come quickly! - -I set out one day for Mihintale, in a world of dewy, virginal -loveliness, washed with morning gold, the sun shooting bright arrows -into the green shade of the trees, a cloud of butterflies radiant as -little flower angels going with me. One splendour, rose-red, -velvet-black, alighted with quivering wings on the mouse-grey shoulder -of the meek little bull who drew my cart and so went with us. - -I was glad that my companion should be a devout Buddhist, for his -reverence and delight in the beauty of his faith taught me many things. -We climbed up through trees so still that the rustling of their shadows -on the ground might have been audible, and as we went he told me a very -ancient Buddhist story which must have reached the Island with the -Apostle Mahinda, son of the high Emperor Ashoka, who brought the faith -from his father’s court in India. Ashoka is one of the great -world-rulers, the Constantine of the Buddhist teaching and himself a -devout disciple. This story is a Jataka or Birth Story of the Lord, one -of those to which I have already alluded, as conveying moral teaching -(and often much folk lore), and this is called “The Dancing Peacock.” - -“Thus have I heard. In the old days the Blessed Buddha sat at Jetavana, -and they told him of a monk who had become drowned in luxury, eating, -drinking and adorning his person with magnificence, so that he cared -nothing for the faith. And at last they brought him before the Lord that -he might be admonished. And the Perfect One said: - -“‘Is it true, monk, that despising all nobility you have surrendered -yourself to idle luxury?’ - -“And without waiting to hear a word more the monk flew into a violent -anger, and tearing off his magnificent robe he stood naked before the -Master, crying: - -“‘Then, if you like not my robes, this is the way I will go about!’ - -“So the bystanding monks cried out: ‘Shame, Shame!’ and in a fury he -rushed from the hall and returned to the condition of a layman. And the -Lord said: - -“‘Not only now, O monks, has this man lost the Jewel of the faith by -immodesty but it was also with him in a former life. Hear the story of -the Dancing Peacock. - -“‘Very long ago in the first age of the world, the birds chose the -Golden Bird to be their King. Now the Golden Bird had a daughter, most -beautiful to see, and he gave her her choice of a husband, after the -ancient manner of India, calling together all the birds of the Himalaya. -And he sent for his daughter, saying: “Now come and choose!” And looking -she saw the Peacock with a neck of gold and emeralds and a train of -spread jewels, and instantly she said: “Let this be my husband!” - -“So all the birds approached the Peacock, saying: - -“‘Noble Peacock, the Princess has set her heart upon you. Therefore -rejoice with humility.’ - -“But the Peacock, walking arrogantly, replied: - -“‘Up to this day none of you would recognize the greatness that was in -me. Now instantly do homage to my majesty!’ - -“And so intoxicated was he with pride that he began to dance, spreading -his wings and swaying his head, and altogether conducting himself like a -drunken man who cares not at all for decency. And horror seized the -Golden Bird and he said: - -“‘This fellow has broken loose from all sense of shame—how could it be -that I should give my Princess to such as he?’ And he uttered this: - -“‘Pleasant is your cry. Jewelled is your back. The feathers of your tail -are glorious, but, Sir, to such a dancer, I can give no daughter of -mine!’ - -“And he bestowed his Princess immediately upon a bird of modest -behaviour, and the Peacock, covered with shame, fled away. - -“Therefore, brethren, this monk has now lost the Jewel of the faith as -he once lost a fair wife. For in a former birth, the Peacock was this -shameless monk, but I myself was the Golden Bird.” - -And this is a lesson also upon the stately calm which marks the -gentleman according to Oriental opinion. It is the low-born only who may -hurry and storm. Other stories I heard, for my friend was a student of -ancient things, and this belief in lives past and to come is the -spiritual life blood of the Orient. It is the mete-yard of justice. He -asked me whether the Christian faith explicitly denied it, and I could -only reply—No; quoting that strange passage of the Blind Man, when -disciples questioning the Christ— - -“Did this man sin or his parents, that he was born blind?”—pass -unrebuked for the implication. - -The Hill of Mihintale rises abruptly as Sigurya from the forests, and -the very air about it is holy, for it was on this great hill that -Mahinda, mysteriously transported from India, alighted bewildered as one -waking from a dream. Here the King, Tissa, seeing the saint seated -beneath a tree, heard a voice he could not gainsay that called his name -three times; and so, approaching with his nobles, he received the -Teaching of the Blessed One. - -The hill is climbed by wonderful carved shallow steps, broken now, and -most beautiful with an overgrowth of green. At the sides are beds of the -Sensitive Plant, with its frail pink flowers. They would faint and fall -if touched, and here you would not even breathe roughly upon them, for -Buddhists regard the shrinking creatures as living and hold it sinful to -cause such evident suffering. - -Descending the grey steps, the shade and sunshine dappling his yellow -robe and bared shoulder with noble colour, came a priest, on his way to -visit the sick of the little village. He stopped and spoke. I told him I -had come from visiting the shrines of Burma, and he desired me to give -him a description of some matters I had seen there. I did so, and we -talked for some time, and it was then mentioned that my food, like his -own, necessitated no taking of life. Instantly his whole face softened -as he said that was glad news to hear. It was the fulfilling of a high -commandment. Would I receive his blessing, and his prayer that the truth -might enlighten me in all things? He bestowed both, and, having made his -gift, went upon his way with the dignity of perfect serenity. That -little circumstance of food (as some would call it) has opened many a -closed door to me in Asia. - -At the top of the hill is a deep shadowy rock-pool, with a brow of cliff -overhanging it; and this is named the Cobra’s Bath, for it is believed -that in the past there was a cobra who used, with his outspread hood, to -shelter the saint, Mahinda, from the torrid sun, and who was also so -much a little servant of the Law that none feared and all mourned him -when he passed upon his upward way in the chain of existences. Here, -above the pool where he loved to lie in the clear cool, they sculptured -a great cobra, with three hooded heads, rising, as it were, from the -water. It was most sinuously beautiful and looked like the work of a -great and ancient people, gathering the very emblem of Fear into the -great Peace. On the topmost height was the _stupa_, or shrine, of -Mahinda, incasing its holy relic, and the caves where his priests dwelt -and still dwell. I entered one, at the invitation of a Bhikku, an old -man with singularly beautiful eyes, set in a face of wistful delicacy. -He touched my engraved ring and asked what it might mean. Little enough -to such as he, whose minds are winged things and flutter in the blue -tranquillities far above the earth! - -The caves are many, with a rock-roof so low that one cannot stand -upright—a strange, dim life, it would seem, but this Bhikku spoke only -of the peace of it, the calm that falls with sunset and that each dawn -renews. _I_ could not doubt this—it was written upon his every gesture. -He gave me his blessing, and his prayer that I might walk forever in the -Way of Peace. With such friends as these the soul is at home. Peace. It -is indeed the salutation of Asia, which does not greet you with a desire -for health or prosperity as in the West, but only—Peace. - -I would willingly tell more of my seekings and findings in Ceylon, for -they were many and great. But I pass on to the little drowsy hill town -of Badulla, where the small bungalows nest in their gardens of glorious -flowers and vines. I sat in the churchyard, where the quiet graves of -English and Singhalese are sinking peacefully into oblivion. It was -Sunday, with a Sabbath calm upon the world. A winding path led up to the -open door of the little English church, a sweet breeze swayed the boughs -and ruffled the long grass of the graves; the butterflies, small Psyches -fluttered their parable in the air about me. A clear voice from the -church repeated the Lord’s Prayer, and many young voices followed. It -was a service for the Singhalese children who have been baptized into -the Christian Faith. They sang of how they had been brought out of -darkness and the shadow of death and their feet set upon the Way of -Peace. - -Surely it is so. When was that Way closed to any who sought? But because -man must follow his own categorical imperative, I repeated to myself, -when they were silent, the words of the poet Abdul Fazl, which he wrote -at the command of the Emperor Akbar as an inscription for a Temple in -Kashmir:— - - “O God, in every temple I see people that see Thee, and in every - language they praise Thee. - - If it be a mosque, men murmur the holy prayer, and if it be a - Christian church they ring the bell from love to Thee. - - Sometimes I frequent the Christian cloister, and sometimes the - mosque, but it is Thou whom I seek from temple to temple. - - Thine elect have no dealings with heresy or orthodoxy, for - neither of these stands behind the screen of thy Truth. - - Heresy to the heretic and religion to the orthodox! - - But the dust of the rose-petal belongs to the heart of the - perfume-seller!” - -Yes,—and an ancient Japanese poet, going yet deeper, says this thing: -“So long as the mind of a man is in accord with the Truth, the Gods will -hear him though he do not pray.” - -I passed the night at a little rest-house and next day set out on the -long journey to Polonnarewa, and beyond that to Trincomali, through a -wild part of Ceylon, stopping each night at the rest-houses which mark -the way. Jungle in India is often mere scrub; this is thousands of acres -of mighty forest. A small road has been driven through it, and on either -side rises the dark and secret wall of trees, impenetrable for miles, -knitted with creepers and blind with undergrowth—a dangerous mystery. - - “Thousand eyeballs under hoods, - Have you by the hair.” - -It seems that every movement is watched, that strained ears listen to -every breath from the secrecy that can never be pierced. - -Much farther on the forest opens into the ancient tank of Minneri, for -these great artificial lakes of the bygone Kings here and in India are -called tanks. It is a glorious lake twenty miles in circumference and I -saw it first with the mountains, exquisite in form and colour, rising -behind it in the rose and gold of a great sunset. Some forgotten King -made it to water the country, and there are still the very sluices -unbroken though choked by masses of fallen masonry. It is the work of -great engineers. No place could be more lovely—the silver fish leaping -in translucent water, and one pouched pelican with its ax-like beak -drifting lazily in a glory so dazzling, that one could only glimpse it a -moment in the dipping sparkles of the reflected sun. The way, like the -ascent to Mihintale, was banked with masses of the Sensitive Plant, -lovely with its fragile pink flowers and delicately folding and dropping -leaves, fainting as you brush them in passing. - -But the lake—the wide expanse, calm as heaven and a shimmer of rose and -blue and gold! I lingered to watch it—the strange beautiful grotesque -of the great bird floating above its own perfect image. It was evening -and the jungle was sweet with all the scents drawn out of it during the -long sun-steeped day—heavenly scents that come from the teeming life in -the mysterious forests, fresh forests germinating on the ruins of the -old—murmuring, calling, vibrating with life and wonder and strange -existences, and their endless chain of blossom and decay. - -It grew dark soon after Minneri, and the fireflies were glittering about -us and the moonlight white on the narrow way. A whispering silence -filled the air with unseen presences as of the feet that long, long -centuries ago trod this way on their errands of pleasure or pain to the -dead city of my goal. I could almost see its spectral towers and palaces -down the moon-blanched glades. Illusion—nothing more. - -The driver missed the track to Polonnarewa, but that mattered little, so -wonderful was the night in the lonely place and the great dark where -once a mighty people moved, and now but the moon and stars circle before -a dead majesty. - -But at the long last we found our way and the little rest-house which -stands where stood the royal city, near a dim glimmer of water. The only -accommodation was a chair, but that was welcome, and when I woke in the -grey dawn she came gliding with silver feet over the loveliest lake -rippling up to the steps of the fairy house in the woods, and peopled by -the glorious rose lotus, grown by the ancient people for the service of -the Temples. And the traveller whom I met there went out before -breakfast and brought in for provender a pea-hen, a wood pigeon, and a -great grey fish from the lake. For myself, I eat like a Buddhist priest -and am content,—living foods were not for me. - -The ruins at Polonnarewa are wonderful indeed, much more perfect than -those of the better known Anaradhapura, though it does not offer, like -the latter, the marvellous row of the Buddhas who have fulfilled their -mission and that Buddha of Love who is yet to come. All about are -temples with colossal Buddhas, palaces, the strangely sculptured stone -rails which are so distinctively Buddhist surrounding richly carved -shrines. Hinduism mingled with Buddhism also. Some of these beautiful -relics have been dug out of the jungle strata, some reclaimed from the -invading growths which are so all-obliterating in a tropic country, and -no doubt there is as much more to be discovered. The carved work is -exquisitely lovely. How strong is the passion for beauty—in the very -ends of the earth it is found, and surely it confirms the Platonic -teaching that it is a reflection of that passion of joy in which the -Creator beheld his work on the seventh day and knew that it was good. - -I cannot describe the wonder of passing through these glades and lawns -and seeing the great dagobas, those mighty buildings of brick, but now -waving with greenery, enshrining each its holy relic. Would that it were -possible to imagine the city which dwelt under their shadow! But the -homes of men pass very swiftly away. It is only the homes of their souls -which abide. Yet the jungle is more wonderful than what it buries. The -sunlit walls of green guard the road jealously. The sun-flecks only -struggle a few inches within that line, and then—trackless secrecy. A -bird flew out, jewelled, gorgeous, “Half angel and half bird.” Are there -greater wonders within? Who can tell? It is sometimes death to attempt -to lift the veil of Isis. I saw the gravestone of a young man who for -all his strength and youth was lost in the jungle—caught in the -poisoned sweetness of her embrace and so died. It may have been a lonely -and fearful death, and yet again—who knows! There are compensations of -which we know nothing. - -I stayed at the little rest-house of Kantelai on its lake with the -jungle creeping and whispering about it— “Dark mother ever gliding near -with soft feet.” Days to be remembered—unspeakably beautiful—they -leave some precious deposit in the memory almost more lovely than the -sight itself, as in the world of thought the spirit is more than the -body. - -And for the end to my journey the great and noble harbour of Trincomali! -I wonder why tourists so seldom go there, but the ways of the tourist -pass understanding. It winds about in lakes of sea blue among palms and -coral bights and glittering beaches. Long ago, the people drifting over -from India built a temple where the old fort now stands, and though thus -polluted the site is still holy and you may see the Brahman priest cast -offerings into the sea from a ledge high up the cliff, with the -worshipping people about him. Then the Portuguese swept down upon Ceylon -in their great naval days when they were the Sweepers of the Sea, and -they destroyed the temple and built their fort. And the Dutch followed, -and the Portuguese vanished, and the French conquered the Dutch, and -again the Dutch the French, and then the English, hawking over the Seven -Seas, pounced like the osprey, and the Dutch sovereignty passed into -their keeping. Did I not say the Island had many masters? - -So the English made this a great fortified place, humming with naval and -military activity; men-of-war lying in the bay, guns bristling in the -beautiful old fort that guards the cliff. And now all that too is -gone—blown away like a wreath of mist, and the only soldiers and -sailors are those who will stay forever in the little grave-place under -the palms, and if it so continues I daresay the jungle will take -Trincomali as it has taken the City of Kings. - -A beautiful place. I wandered on the beach among the shells one -marvelled to see as a child, when sailor friends gave them into eager -hands—deep brown freckled polished things, leopard-spotted and -ivory-lipped, and so smooth that the hand slips off the perfect surface. -Delicate frailties of opal and pearl shimmering with mystic colour, -spiny grotesques with long thorned stems—there they all lay for the -gathering. And at last I went up into the old fort. - -It covers many acres on the cliff and the jungle is steadily conquering -the empty bungalows and fortifications. It is very old, for the Dutch -built it in 1650. Now in the thickets the forsaken guns make an empty -bravado like toothless lions. I saw a deer and her fawn come peering -shyly through the bushes, and they fled before me. The casements are -empty and a flagless flagstaff looks over the heavenly calm of the sea. - -Almost lost in the shade I found some old Dutch graves, very square and -formal—a something of the rigidity of the burgomaster about them still, -as of stiff-ruffed men and women. “Here sleeps in God—” said one mossy -inscription (but in Dutch)—and then a break, and then “Johanna” and -another break, and only a word here and there and a long obliterated -date. And the Dutch were masters and Johanna slept in the ground of her -people as securely as if it had been The Hague itself. So it must then -have seemed. And now it is English, and whose next? Truly the fashion of -this world passeth away! They were touching, those old tombs, with -inscriptions that once were watered with tears, that no one now cares to -decipher. And there they lie forgotten in the sighing trees, and the -world goes by. The dominion of oblivion is secure, whatever that of -death may be. - -I climbed down to a casement in the cliff, half-way to the sea, a little -shelf overlooking the blue transparence that met the blue horizon, and -wondered what the grave God-fearing talk of the Dutchmen had been as -they leaned over the parapet, discussing the ways of the heathen and the -encroachments of the British. And from there I made my way to the rocks -below with the brilliant water heaving about them. Some large fish of -the most perfect forget-me-not blue shading into periwinkle mauve on the -fins were playing before me, and as they rolled over, or a ripple took -them they displayed the underside, a faint rose pink. Such beautiful -happy creatures in the wash of the wandering water clear and liquid as -light! Sometimes they wavered like moons under a ripple, a blot of -heavenliest blue, submerged and quivering, sometimes a shoal of black -fish barred with gold swam in among them, beautiful to see. I could have -stayed all day, for it was heavenly cool, with a soft sea breeze blowing -through the rocks, but even as I watched a great brown monster came -wallowing through the water, and my beauties fled like swallows. - -The touch of tragedy was not wanting, for high on the cliff was a little -pillar to the memory of a Dutch girl who fell in love long ago with an -Englishman—a false lover, who sailed away and left her heartbroken. -Here she watched his sails lessening along the sky, and as they dipped -below the horizon, she threw herself over the cliff in unendurable -anguish. - -A tragic story, but it is all so long ago that it has fallen back into -the beauty of nature and is now no more sad than a sunset that casts its -melancholy glory before it fades. Yet I wonder whether in all the hide -and seek of rebirth she has caught up somewhere with her Englishman! She -knows all about Psyche’s wings by this time, and he too must have gained -a dear-bought wisdom through “the great mercy of the gift of departing,” -as the Buddhists call it . . . they to whom death is so small an episode -in so long a story. - -I sat by the pillar and watched the dying torch of the sunset -extinguished in the sea—a sea of glass mingled with fire. And very -quietly the stars appeared one by one in a violet sky and it was night. - - - - - THE WONDERFUL PILGRIMAGE TO AMARNATH - - - - - THE WONDERFUL PILGRIMAGE TO AMARNATH - - -In all India there is nothing more wonderful than the pilgrimages of -millions, which set like tidal waves at certain seasons to certain -sacrosanct places—the throngs that flock to holy Benares, to Hardwar, -and to that meeting of the waters at Prayag, where the lustral rites -purify soul and body, and the pilgrims return shriven and glad. But of -all the pilgrimages in India the most touching, the most marvellous, is -that to Amarnath, nearly twelve thousand feet up in the Himalayas. The -cruel difficulties to be surmounted, the august heights to be climbed -(for a part of the way is much higher than the height at which the Cave -stands), the wild and terrible beauty of the journey, and the glorious -close when the Cave is reached, make this pilgrimage the experience of a -lifetime even for a European. What must it not be for a true believer? -Yet, in the deepest sense, I should advise none to make it who is not a -true believer—who cannot sympathize to the uttermost with the wave of -faith and devotion that sends these poor pilgrims climbing on torn and -wearied feet to the great Himalayan heights, where they not infrequently -lay down their lives before reaching the silver pinnacles that hold -their hearts’ desire. - -I have myself made the pilgrimage, and it was one of the deepest -experiences of my life; while, as for the beauty and wonder of the -journey, all words break down under the effort to express them. - -But first for a few words about the God who is the object of devotion. -The Cave is sacred to Siva—the Third Person of the Hindu Trinity; that -Destroyer who, in his other aspects, is the Creator and Preserver. He is -the God especially of the Himalayas—the Blue-Throated God, from the -blue mists of the mountains that veil him. The Crescent in his hair is -the young moon, resting on the peak that is neighbour to the stars. The -Ganges wanders in the matted forests of his hair before the maddening -torrents fling their riches to the Indian plains, even as the -snow-rivers wander in the mountain pine forests. He is also -Nataraja—Lord of the Cosmic Dance; and one of the strangest and -deepest-wrought parables in the world is that famous image where, in a -wild ecstasy, arms flung out, head flung back in a passion of motion, he -dances the Tandavan, the whole wild joy of the figure signifying the -cosmic activities of Creation, Maintenance and Destruction. “For,” says -a Tamil text, “our Lord is a Dancer, who like the heat latent in -firewood, diffuses his power in mind and matter, and makes them dance in -their turn.” - -The strange affinity of this conception with the discoveries of science -relating to the eternal dance of the atom and electron gives it the -deepest interest. I would choose this aspect of the God as that which -should fill the mind of the Amarnath pilgrim. Let him see the Great God -Mahadeo (Magnus Deus), with the drum in one hand which symbolizes -creative sound—the world built, as it were, to rhythm and music. -Another hand is upraised bidding the worshipper, “Fear not!” A third -hand points to his foot, the refuge where the soul may cling. The right -foot rests lightly on a demon—to his strength, what is it? A nothing, -the mere illusion of reality! In his hair, crowned with the crescent -moon, sits the Ganges, a nymph entangled in its forest. This is the -aspect of Mahadeo which I carried in my own mind as I made the -pilgrimage, for thus is embodied a very high mysticism, common to all -the faiths. - -Of all the deities of India Maheshwara is the most complex and -bewildering in his many aspects. He is the Great Ascetic, but he is also -Lord of the beautiful daughter of the Himalaya,—Uma, Parwati, Gauri, -Girija, the Snowy One, the Inaccessible, the Virgin, the Mystic Mother -of India, to give but a few of her many and lovely names. She too has -her differing aspects. As Kali, she is the goddess of death and -destruction; as Parwati, the very incarnation of the charm and sweetness -of the Eternal Femine. As Uma she is especially Himalayan. - -In the freezing mountain lake of Manasarovar she did age-long penance -for her attempt to win the heart of the Great Ascetic, the Supreme -Yogi,—her lovely body floating like a lily upon its icy deeps, and so, -at long last, winning him for ever. She is the seeker of mountains, the -Dweller in the Windhya Hills, the complement of her terrible Lord and -Lover, whose throne is Mount Kailasa. Yet in some of his moods she must -be completely absorbed and subjugated to ensure his companionship, for -he is the archetype of the perfected human yogi of whom says the ancient -Song Celestial that “he abides alone in a secret place without desire -and without possessions, upon a firm seat, with the working of the mind -and senses held in check, with body, head and neck in perfect equipoise, -meditating in order that he may reach the boundless Abyss; he who knows -the infinite joy that lies beyond the senses and so becomes like an -unflickering lamp in a lonely place.” - -This union is possible to Parwati and her Lord. So dear are they each to -the other that they are often represented as a single image of which one -half is male, the other female, the dual nature in perfect harmony in -the Divine. - -Thus then is the Great God to be visited in the high-uplifted secret -shrine of the mountains, which are themselves the Lotus flower of -creation. At dawn, suffused through all their snows with glowing rose -they dominate Indian thought as the crimson lotus of Brahma the Creator. -At noon, blue in the radiant unveiled blue of the sky they are the blue -Lotus of Vishnu the Preserver, the Pillar of Cosmic Law. At night, when -all the earth is rapt in _samadhi_, the mystic ecstasy, they are the -snowy Lotus, throne of Siva, Maheshwara the Great God, the Supreme Yogi -when he dreams worlds beneath the dreaming moon upon his brow. - -And India is herself a petal of the World Lotus of Asia as the Asiatic -mind conceives it. Look at Asia of the maps and reverence the Flower -which thrones all the Gods of Asia. - -The Cave at Amarnath is sacred because a spring, eternally frozen, has -in its rush taken the shape of the holy Lingam, which is the symbol of -reproduction and therefore of Life. This is also the Pillar of the -Universe—that Pillar which the Gods sought to measure, the one flying -upward, the other downward, for aeons, seeking the beginning and the -end, and finding none. Yet again, it is the Tree of Life, which has its -roots in Eternity, and branches through the mythology of many peoples. -And if there are degenerated forms of this worship, surely the same may -be said of many others. And it is needful to know these things in order -to realize the significance of the worship. - -The pilgrimage can be made only in July and August. Before and after, a -barrier of snow and ice closes the way, and makes the Cave a desolation. - -The start is made from Pahlgam, a tiny village on the banks of the Lidar -River in Kashmir, where it leaps from the great glacier of Kolahoi to -join the Jhelum River in the Happy Valley. Pahlgam itself stands at a -height of about eight thousand feet. - -The day before we started there was a great thunderstorm, the grandest I -have ever known. The mountains were so close on each side that they -tossed the thunder backwards and forwards to each other, and the -shattering and roaring of the echoes was like the battles of the Gods or -the rolling of Maheshwara’s mighty drum in the mountain hollows, while -the continuous blue glare of the lightning was almost appalling. It was -strange to feel only a little web of canvas between ourselves and that -elemental strife when the rain followed as if the fountains of the great -deep were broken up—cold as snow, stinging like hail, and so steady -that it looked like crystal harpstrings as it fell. Yet next day we -waked to a silver rain-washed world, sparkling with prisms of rain and -dew; fresh snow on the mountains, and delicate webs of soft blue mist -caught like smoke in the pines. - -So we set forth from Pahlgam, with our cavalcade of rough hill ponies -carrying the tents and provisions and all our substance, and began our -march by climbing up the river that flows from those eternal heights -into the Pahlgam valley. Much of the way can be ridden if one rides very -slowly and carefully for these wonderful animals are sure-footed as -cats; but the track is often terrifying—broken boulders and the like. -If the ponies were not marvels, it could not be done; and if one were -not a safe rider, one certainly could not stick on. The pony gives a -strong hoist of his fore-legs, and you are up one rock and hanging on by -his withers; then a strong hoist of the hind legs and you are nearly -over his neck; and this goes on for hours; and when it is beyond the -pony you climb on your feet, and ford the torrents as best you may. - -Up and up the steep banks of the river we climbed, among the pines and -mighty tumbled boulders. Up by the cliffs, where the path hangs and -trembles over the water roaring beneath. On the opposite side the -mountains soared above the birches and pines, and the torrents hung down -them like mist, falling, falling from crag to crag, and shattering like -spray-dust as they fell. Once a mighty eagle soared above us, balancing -on the wind, and then floated away without a single motion of his -wings—wonderful to see; and the spread of his wings was greater than -the height of the tallest man. - -We had long passed the last few huts, and the track wound steadily -higher, when suddenly growing on us, I heard a deep musical roar like -the underlying bass of an orchestra—the full-chorded voice of many -waters. And as we turned a corner where the trail hung like a line round -the cliff, behold, a mighty gorge of pines and uplifted hills, and the -river pouring down in a tremendous waterfall, boiling and foaming white -as it fell into the raging pit beneath. - -What a sight! We stopped and looked, every sense steeped in the wonder -of it. For the air was cool with the coolness that comes like breath off -a river; our ears were full of the soft thunder; the smell of pines was -like the taste of a young world in one’s mouth; yet it was all -phantasmal, in a way, as if it could not be real. I watched the lovely -phantom, for it hung like a thing unreal between heaven and earth, until -it grew dreamlike to me and dyed my brain with sound and colour, and it -was hard indeed to pass on. - -That night we camped in a mountain valley some two thousand feet above -Pahlgam. It was like climbing from story to story in a House of Wonder. -The river was rushing by our tents when they were pitched, pale green -and curling back upon itself, as if it were loath to leave these pure -heights, and the mountains stood about us like a prison, almost as if we -might go no farther. And when I stood outside my tent just before -turning in, a tremulous star was poised on one of the peaks, like the -topmost light on a Christmas tree, and the Great Bear which in India is -the constellation of the Seven Rishis, or Sages, lay across the sky -glittering frostily in the blue-blackness. - -I had a narrow escape that day; for, as I was leading the cavalcade, I -met a wild hill-rider in the trail between two great rocks, and his -unbroken pony kicked out at me savagely with his foreleg and caught me -above the ankle. Luckily, they do not shoe their horses here; but it was -pretty bad for a bit, and I was glad of the night’s rest. - -Next day we started and rounded out of the tiny valley; and lo! on the -other side another river, flowing apparently out of a great arch in the -mountainside. Out it poured, rejoicing to be free; and when I looked, it -was flowing, not from the mountain but from a snow-bridge. Mighty falls -of snow had piled up at the foot of the mountain, as they slipped from -its steeps; and then the snow, melting above, had come down as a torrent -and eaten its way through the wide arch of this cave. Often one must -cross a river on these snow-bridges, and at a certain stage of melting -they are most dangerous; for, if the snow should give, there may be -frightful depths beneath. - -Here first I noticed how beautiful were the flowers of the heights. The -men gathered and brought me tremulous white and blue columbines, and -wild wallflowers, orange-coloured and so deeply scented that I could -close my eyes and call up a cottage garden, and the beehives standing in -sedate rows under the thatched eaves. And there was a glorious thistle, -new to me, as tall as a man, well armed and girded with blue and silver -spears and a head of spiky rays. Bushes, also, like great laurels, but -loaded with rosy berries that the Kashmiris love. - -We turned then round a huge fallen rock, green and moist with hanging -ferns, and shining with the spray of the river, and before us was a -mountain, and an incredible little trail winding up it, and that was our -way. I looked and doubted. It is called the Pisu, or Flea Ascent, on the -dubious ground that it takes a flea’s activity to negotiate it. Of -course, it was beyond the ponies, except here and there, on what I -called breathers, and so we dismounted. The men advised us to clutch the -ponies’ tails, and but for that help it would have been difficult to -manage. My heart was pumping in my throat, and I could feel the little -pulses beating in my eyes, before I had gone far, and every few minutes -we had to stop; for even the guides were speechless from the climb, and -I could see the ponies’ hearts beating hard and fast under the smooth -coats. - -But still we held on, and now beside us were blooming the flower-gardens -of the brief and brilliant Himalayan summer—beds of delicate purple -anemones, gorgeous golden ranunculus holding its golden shields to the -sun, orange poppies, masses of forget-me-nots of a deep, glowing blue—a -_burning_ blue, not like the fair azure of the Western flower, but like -the royal blue of the Virgin’s robe in a Flemish missal. And above these -swayed the bells of the columbines on their slender stems, ranging from -purest white, through a faint, misty blue, to a deep, glooming purple. -We could hardly go on for joy of the flowers. It was a marvel to see all -these lovely things growing wild and uncared for, flinging their -sweetness on the pure air, and clothing the ways with beauty. And at -each turn fresh snow-peaks emerged against the infinite blue of the -sky—some with frail wisps of white cloud caught in the spires, and some -bold and clear as giants ranged for battle—the lotus petals of the -Infinite Flower. - -And so we climbed up and reached another story, and lay down to rest and -breathe before we went farther up into wonderland. - -The top was a grassy “marg,” or meadow, cloven down to the heart of the -earth by a fierce river. Around it was a vast amphitheatre of wild crags -and peaks; and beneath these, but ever upward, lay our trail. But the -meadow was like the field in Sicily where Persephone was gathering -flowers when she was snatched away by Dis to reign in the Underworld. I -remembered Leighton’s picture of her, floating up from the dead dark, -like a withered flower, and stretching her hands to the blossoms of the -earth once more. I never saw such flowers; they could scarcely be seen -elsewhere. - - And here the myriad blossoms lay - In shattered rainbows on the grass. - Exulting in their little day - They laughed aloud to see us pass. - - We left them in their merriment,— - The singing angels of the snows,— - And still we climbed the steep ascent - Along the sunward way it knows. - -The snow had slipped off the meadow,—was rushing away in the thundering -river far below,—and the flowers were crowding each other, rejoicing in -the brief gladness of summer before they should be shrouded again under -the chilly whiteness. But their colour took revenge on it now. They -glowed, they sang and shouted for joy—such was the vibration of their -radiance! I have never dreamed of such a thing before. - -And then came our next bad climb, up the bed of a ragged mountain -torrent and across it, with the water lashing at us like a whip. I do -not know how the ponies did it. They were clutched and dragged by the -ears and tails, and a man seized me by the arms and hauled me up and -round the face of a precipice, where to miss one step on the loose -stones would have been to plunge into depths I preferred not to look at. -Then another ascent like the Flea, but shorter, and we were a story -higher, in another wild marg, all frosted silver with edelweiss, and -glorious with the flowers of another zone—flowers that cling to the -bare and lichened rock and ask no foothold of earth. - -That was a wild way. We climbed and climbed steadfastly, sometimes -riding, sometimes walking, and round us were rocks clothed with rose-red -saxifrage, shaded into pink, and myriads of snowy stars, each with a -star of ruby in its heart. Clouds still of the wonderful forget-me-not -climbed with us. Such rock gardens! No earthly hand could plant those -glowing masses and set them against the warm russets and golds of the -lower crags, lifted up into this mighty sky world. The tenderness of the -soft form and radiant colour of these little flowers in the cruel grasp -of the rocks, yet softening them into grace with the short summer of -their lives, is exquisitely touching. It has the pathos of all fragility -and brief beauty. - -Later we climbed a great horn of rock, and rounded a slender trail, and -before was another camping-place—the Shisha-Nag Lake among the peaks. -We saw its green river first, bursting through a rocky gateway, and -then, far below, the lake itself,— - - We passed the frozen sea of glass - Where never human foot has trod, - Green as a clouded chrysoprase - And lonely as a dream of God.— - -reflecting the snowy pinnacles above. The splintered peaks stand about -it. Until July it is polished ice, and out of one side opens a solemn -ante-chapel blocked with snow. The lake itself is swept clear and empty. -The moon climbs the peaks and looks down, and the constellations swing -above it. A terrible, lonely place, peopled only by shadows. It was -awful to think of the pomps of sunrise, noon, and sunset passing -overhead, and leaving it to the night and dream which are its only true -companions. It should never be day there—always black, immovable Night, -crouching among the snows and staring down with all her starlight eyes -into that polished icy mirror. - - For days we went. We left their mirth - For where the springs of light arise, - And dawns lean over to the earth, - And stars are split to lower skies - White, white the wastes around us lay, - The wild peaks gathered round to see - Our fires affront the awful day, - Our speech the torrents’ giant glee. - -We camped above the lake, and it was cold—cold! A bitter wind blew -through the rocks—a wind shrilling in a waste land. Now and then it -shifted a little and brought the hoarse roar of some distant torrent or -the crash of an avalanche. And then, for the first time I heard the cry -of the marmot—a piercing note which intensifies the desolation. We saw -them too, sitting by their burrows; and then they shrieked and dived and -were gone. - -We made a little stir of life for a while—the men pitching our tents -and running here and there to gather stunted juniper bushes for fuel, -and get water from an icy stream that rippled by. But I knew we were -only interlopers. We would be gone next day, and chilly silence would -settle down on our blackened camp-fires. - -In the piercing cold that cut like a knife I went out at night, to see -the lake, a solemn stillness under the moon. I cannot express the awe of -the solitudes. As long as I could bear the cold, I intruded my small -humanity; and then one could but huddle into the camp-bed and try to -shut out the immensities, and sleep our little human sleep, with the -camp-fires flickering through the curtains, and the freezing stars -above. - -Next day we had to climb a very great story higher. Up and up the track -went steadily, with a sheer fall at one side and a towering wall on the -other. We forded a river where my feet swung into it as the pony, held -by two men, plunged through. It is giddy, dazzling work to ford these -swift rivers. You seem to be stationary; only the glitter of the river -sweeps by, and the great stones trip the pony. You think you are done, -and then somehow and suddenly you are at the other side. - -And here a strange thing happened. When the morning came, we found that -a _sadhu_—a wandering pilgrim—had reached the same height on his way -to the Cave. He was resting by the way, very wearied, and shuddering -with the cold. So I ventured to speak to him and welcome him to our fire -and to such food (rice) as he could accept from some of our men; and -there, when we stopped for the mid-day meal, he sat among us like a -strange bird dropped from alien skies. Sometimes these men are repulsive -enough, but this one—I could have thought it was Kabir himself! -Scrupulously clean, though poor as human being could be, he would have -come up from the burning plains with his poor breast bare to the -scarring wind, but that some charitable native had given him a little -cotton coat. A turban, a loin-cloth looped between the legs, leaving -them naked, grass sandals on feet coarse with travelling, and a string -of roughly carved wooden beads such as the Great Ascetic himself wears -in his images were all his possessions, except the little wallet that -carried his food—rice and a kind of lentil. I thought of Epictetus, the -saint of ancient Rome, and his one tattered cloak. - - A wandering sadhu; far he came, - His thin feet worn by endless roads; - Yet in his eyes there burnt the flame - That light the altars of the Gods. - - The keen wind scarred his naked breast. - I questioned him, and all the while - The quiet of a heart at rest - Shone in his secret patient smile. - - Yes, he had come from hot Bengal, - From scorching plains to peaks of ice; - Took what was given as chance might fall, - And begged his little dole of rice. - - “And have you friends, or any child? - Or any home?” He shook his head, - And threw his hands out as he smiled, - And “Empty,” was the word he said. - - And so he sat beside our fire, - As strange birds drop from alien skies, - Gentle but distant, never nigher, - With that remoteness in his eyes. - -This was a man of about fifty-five, tall, thin, with a sensitive face, -yet with something soldierly about him; dignified and quiet, with fine -hawk-like features and strained bright eyes in hollow caves behind the -gaunt cheek-bones. A beautiful face in both line and expression; a true -mystic, if ever I saw one! - -He told me he had walked from Bengal (look at the map and see what that -means!) and that the poor people were very kind and gave him a little -rice sometimes, when they had it, and sometimes a tiny coin, asking only -his prayers in return. That he needed very little, never touching meat -or fish or eggs, which he did not think could be pleasing to God. For -sixteen years he had been thus passing from one sacred place to the -other—from the holy Benares to Hardwar where the Ganges leaves the -hills, and farther still, praying—praying to the One. “There is One -God,” he said; and again I thought of Kabir, the supreme mystic, the -incarnate Joy, who also wandered through India,—striving, like this -man: - - He has looked upon God, and his eyeballs are clear; - There was One, there is One, and but One, saith Kabir,— - - To learn and discern of his brother the clod, - And his brother the beast, and his brother the God. - -But does it not fill one with thoughts? That man had a soul at rest and -a clear purpose. And the Christ and the Buddha were sadhus; and if it -seem waste to spend the sunset of a life in prayer, that may be the -grossest of errors. We do not know the rules of the Great Game. How -should we judge? So he came with us, striding behind the ponies with his -long steadfast stride, and his company was pleasing to me. - -That was a wondrous climb. Had any God ever such an approach to his -sanctuary as this Great God of the heights? We climbed through a huge -amphitheatre of snows, above us the ribbed and crocketed crags of a -mighty mountain. It was wild architecture—fearful buttresses, springing -arches, and terrible foundations rooted in the earth’s heart; and, -above, a high clerestory, where the Dawn might walk and look down -through the hollow eyeholes of the windows into the deeps of the -precipice below. - -I suppose the architect was the soft persistence of water, for I could -see deep beach-marks on the giant walls. But there it stood, crowned -with snow, and we toiled up it, and landed on the next story, the very -water-shed of these high places—a point much higher than the goal of -our journey. And that was very marvellous, for we were now in the bare -upper world, with only the sky above us, blue and burning on the snow, -the very backbone of the range; and, like the Great Divide, the rivers -were flowing both ways, according to the inclination of the source. - -Before us lay snow which must be crossed, and endless streams and rivers -half or wholly buried in snow. That was a difficult time. The ponies -were slipping, sliding, stumbling, yet brave, capable, wary as could be. -I shall for ever respect these mountain ponies. They are sure-footed as -goats and brave as lions and nothing else would serve in these high -places. In Tibet they have been known to climb to the height of 20,000 -feet. - -Sometimes the snow was rotten, and we sank in; sometimes it was firm, -and then we slipped along; sometimes riding was impossible, and then we -picked our way with alpenstocks. But everywhere in the Pass summer had -its brief victory, and the rivers were set free to feed the sultry -Indian plains. - -At last we won through to another high marg, a pocket of grass and -blossom in the crags; and there, at Panjitarni, we camped. Of course, we -had long been above all trees, but nothing seemed to daunt the flowers. -This marg lay basking in the sun, without one fragment of shade except -when the sun fell behind the peaks in the evening. But the flowers -quivered, glowed, expanded. My feet were set on edelweiss, and the -buttercups were pure gold. The stream ran before me pure as at the -day-dawn of the world, and from all this innocent beauty I looked up to -the untrodden snow, so near, yet where only the eagle’s wings could take -her. - -Next day was an enforced rest, for everyone, man and beast, was weary; -so we basked in the sun, reading and writing, and but for the July snow -and the awful peaks, it was hard to believe that one was in the upper -chambers of the King’s Palace. Yet the air was strange, the water was -strange, and it was like a wild fairy-tale to look down from my camp-bed -and see the grey edelweiss growing thick beside it, and hear the shriek -of the marmot. - -Next day we should reach the Cave, and when it came the morning looked -down upon us sweet and still—a perfect dawn. - -First we crossed the marg, shining with buttercups, and climbed a little -way up a hill under the snows, and then dropped down to the river-bed -under caves of snow for the path above was blocked. It was strange to -wade along through the swift, icy waters, with the snow-caves arching -above us in the glowing sunlight. The light in these caves is a -wonderful lambent green, for the reflected water is malachite green -itself; but I was glad when the passage was over, for it looked as if -some impending mass must fall and crush us. - -We climbed painfully out of the water, and in front was a track winding -straight up the mountain. It was clear that we could not ride up; but we -could not delay, so we started as steadily as the ponies. I hardly know -how they did it—the men dragged and encouraged them somehow. And still -less do I know how we did it. The strain was great. At one point I felt -as if my muscles would crack and my heart burst. We did the worst in -tiny stages, resting every few minutes, and always before us was the -sadhu winning steadily up the height. It was a weary, long climb, new -elevations revealing themselves at every turn of the track. Finally, I -fell on the top and lay for a bit to get my wind, speechless but -triumphant. - -We rode then along the face of the hill—an awful depth below, and -beside us flowers even exceeding those we had seen. Purple asters, great -pearl-white Christmas roses weighting their stems, orange-red -ranunculus. It was a broken rainbow scattered on the grass. And above -this heaven of colour was the Amarnath mountain at last—the goal. - -Then came a descent when I hardly dared to look below me. That too could -not be ridden. In parts the track had slipped away, and it was only -about six inches wide. In others we had to climb over the gaps where it -had slipped. At the foot we reached a mighty mountain ravine—a great -cleft hewn in the mountain, filled like a bowl to a fourth of its huge -depth with snow, and with streams and river rushing beneath. We could -hear them roaring hollowly, and see them now and then in bare places. -And at the end of the ravine, perhaps two miles off, a great cliff -blocked the way, and in it was a black hole—and this was the Shrine. - -The snow was so hard that we could ride much of the way, but with -infinite difficulty, climbing and slipping where the water beneath had -rotted the snow. In fact, this glen is one vast snow-bridge, so -undermined is it by torrents. The narrowness of it and the towering -mountains on each side make it a tremendous approach to the Shrine. - -A snow-bridge broke suddenly under my pony and I thought I was gone; but -a man caught me by the arm, and the pony made a wild effort and -struggled to the rocks. And so we went on. - -The Cave is high up the cliff, and I could see the sadhu’s figure -striding swiftly on as if nothing could hold him back. - -We dismounted before the Cave, and began the last climb to the mouth. I -got there first, almost done, and lo! a great arch like that of the -choir of a cathedral; and inside, a cave eaten by water into the rock, -lighted by the vast arch, and shallow in comparison with its height of -150 feet. At the back, frozen springs issuing from the mountain. One of -the springs, the culminating point of adoration, is the Lingam as it is -seen in the temples of India—a very singular natural frost sculpture. -Degraded in the associations of modern ignorance the mystic and educated -behold in this small phallic pillar of purest ice the symbol of the -Pillar of Cosmic Ascent, rooted in rapture of creation, rising to the -rapture of the Immeasurable. It represents That within the circumference -of which the universe swings to its eternal rhythm—That which, in the -words of Dante, moves the sun and other stars. It is the stranger here -because before it the clear ice has frozen into a flat, shallow altar. - -The sadhu knelt before it, tranced in prayer. He had laid some flowers -on the altar, and, head thrown back and eyes closed, was far away—in -what strange heaven, who shall say? Unconscious of place or person, of -himself, of everything but the Deity, he knelt, the perfect symbol of -the perfect place. I could see his lips move— Was it the song of Kabir -to the Eternal Dancer?— - -He is pure and eternal, -His form is infinite and fathomless. -He dances in rapture and waves of form arise from his dance. -The body and mind cannot contain themselves when touched by his divine - joy. -He holds all within his bliss. - -What better praise for such a worshipper before him in whose ecstasy the -worlds dance for delight—here where, in the great silence, the Great -God broods on things divine? But I could not know—— - - I could not know, for chill and far - His alien heaven closed him in. - His peace shone distant as a star - Remote in skies we cannot win. - -I laid my flowers on the altar of ice beside his. Who could fail to be -moved where such adoration is given after such a pilgrimage? And if some -call the Many-Named “God,” and some “Siva,” what matter? To all it is -the Immanent God. And when I thought of the long winter and the snow -falling, falling, in the secret places of the mountains, and shrouding -this temple in white, the majesty of the solitudes and of the Divine -filled me with awe. - - Outside the marmot’s cry was shrill, - The mountain torrents plunged in smoke; - Inside our hearts were breathless still - To hear the secret word He spoke. - We heard Him, but the eyelids close, - The seal of silence dumbs the lips - Of such as in the awful snows - Receive the dread Apocalypse. - -Later we climbed down into the snowy glen beneath the Cave, and ate our -meal under a rock, with the marmots shrilling about us, and I found at -my feet—what? A tuft of bright golden violets—all the delicate -penciling in the heart, but shining gold. I remembered Ulysses in the -Garden of Circe, where the _moly_ is enshrined in the long thundering -roll of Homer’s verse:— - - “For in another land it beareth a golden flower, but not in this.” - -It is a shock of joy and surprise to find so lovely a marvel in the -awful heights. - -We were too weary to talk. We watched the marmots, red-brown like -chestnuts, on the rocks outside their holes, till everything became -indistinct and we fell asleep from utter fatigue. - -The way back was as toilsome, only with ascents and descents reversed; -and so we returned to Panjitarni. - -Next day we rested; for not only was it necessary from fatigue, but some -of our men were mountain-sick because of the height. This most trying -ailment affects sleep and appetite, and makes the least exertion a -painful effort. Some felt it less, some more, and it was startling to -see our strong young men panting as their hearts laboured almost to -bursting. The native cure is to chew a clove of garlic; whether it is a -faith cure or no I cannot tell, but it succeeded. I myself was never -affected. - -Of the journey down I will say little. Our sadhu journeyed with us and -was as kind and helpful on the way as man could be. He stayed at our -camp for two days when we reached Pahlgam; for he was all but worn out, -and we begged him to rest. It touched me to see the weary body and -indomitable soul. - -At last the time came for parting. He stood under a pine, with his small -bundle under his arm, his stick in his hand, and his thin feet shod for -the road in grass sandals. His face was serenely calm and beautiful. I -said I hoped God would be good to him in all his wanderings; and he -replied that he hoped this too, and he would never forget to speak to -Him of us and to ask that we might find the Straight Way home. For -himself, he would wander until he died—probably in some village where -his name would be unknown but where they would be good to him for the -sake of the God. - -So he salaamed and went, and we saw him no more. Was it not the mighty -Akbar who said, “I never saw any man lost in a straight road”? - - He came with us; we journeyed down - To lowlier levels where the fields - Are golden with the wheat new-mown, - And all the earth her increase yields. - - He told us that his way lay on. - He might not rest; the High God’s cry - Rang “Onward!” and the beacon shone, - “And I must wander till I die. - - “But when I speak unto my God - I still will tell him you were kind, - That you may tread where He has trod - Until the Straight Way home you find.” - - He joined his hands in deep salute, - And, smiling, went his lonely way, - Sole, yet companioned, glad, yet mute, - And steadfast toward the perfect day. - - And still I see him lessening - Adown the endless Indian plain. - Yet certain am I of this thing— - Our souls have met—shall meet again. - -Thus I have tried to give some dim picture of the wonders of that -wonderful pilgrimage. But who can express the faith, the devotion that -send the poorer pilgrims to those heights? They do it as the sadhu did -it. Silence and deep thought are surely the only fitting comments on -such a sight. - - - - - THE MAN WITHOUT A SWORD - - - - - THE MAN WITHOUT A SWORD - - -(What is told in this story of jujutsu or judo, the Japanese national -science of self-defence and attack, is from the point of view of an -expert, strange as it may appear.) - -This is the true story of an experience which befell me in Japan. For -six years I have kept silence and I tell it now only because my own -knowledge assures me of the growing interest in matters relating to what -Oriental scholars call “the formless world”—that is to say the sphere -surrounding us which we now know to be independent of solidity and time -as we conceive them, a world not to be grasped by our fallible senses -yet apprehended by some of us in certain conditions not tracked and -charted definitely. Modern science, feeling after the mysterious, has -named this world which permeates ours and yet is invisible, the Fourth -Dimension because it is not subject to the three illusions of length, -breadth and height which imprison most of us from the cradle to the -grave. But why philosophize? Let me tell my story. - -My name is Hay, and I am a middle-class Scotchman, a public school and -University man who, like others, took part in the War. I came through -whole and sound but it left its mark. For one thing, it knocked to -smithereens the average ideals of success and attainment, which, again -like others, had shaped my life, and from being a strictly average man -in that I followed the herd in all its decencies of convention the war -left me naked and unsheltered in the open without a rag of conviction to -hide me from the truth if it should happen to pass my way. But I had -ceased to believe in its existence outside the things we use in daily -intercourse. - -Another effect also. My war experience was naval and chiefly in the -Mediterranean where men of all nationalities were coming and going, and -that constant contact wore thin the shell an Englishman inhabits—such -crustaceans as we are!—until I began to see in what different terms the -universe may be stated from the differing angles of race and -nationality. What helped me to this understanding was a friendship I -struck up with a Japanese naval officer—a remarkable fellow as I -thought then and know now. He spoke English perfectly and had not only -read but inwardly digested what he read, which is more than can be said -for most of us. I owed him two services besides. He taught me to speak -Japanese—I am quick at languages,—and being a great expert in the -national art of defence and attack which is known as jujutsu, he began -to give me lessons which were the beginning of much. His name was Arima, -his age the same as mine—thirty-four,—and for very different reasons -we both left our services when the war shut down. - -Yet I knew our friendship would not end there, nor did it. One day while -I was dining alone in my club in London, wondering whether I should ever -again find anything which I honestly felt worth doing, a letter reached -me. I knew the almost mercantile precision of the hand before I opened -it and it sent a pleasurable thrill through nerves which had been -stagnant with exhaustion since I had been ashore. - - “Hay sama, - - “I think much of you and wonder if you ever free a thought to - cross the sea to my little house in Kyushu. That is our southern - island and since illness drove me from our navy I live there. I - need the sunshine of a friend’s company and if you feel the same - need come, I beg you, and make me a long visit. I live in a - beautiful valley run through by a river which will please you. - It flows by rocks and mountains, pine woods and prosperous - villages; a happy land. Not far from my house is a temple to - Hachiman, God of War. I do not pay my devotions there for - reasons which you will understand. But come, my friend. I have - learned many things since we met and no doubt it is the same - with you.” - -That letter flung up a window in a stifling room. It meant escape from -the dull indifference besetting me and contact with those people who of -all in the world preserve the Stoic virtues which seemed to be the only -ones likely to extricate me from my Slough of Despond. I wrote my answer -within ten minutes and in two months I was in Japan. - -I did not go at once to Arima, nor will I tell my first adventures on -landing and making myself at home in Tokyo. They are neither good -reading nor thinking. I had more than one reason to regret that Arima -had made me free of the country by giving me its tongue. Pretty well -worn out, with a stale taste of sour regrets in my mouth, I went down at -last to Kyushu, and in the garden of Arima’s delightful little house I -take up the story. - -It was a true Japanese garden, a wide landscape seen through the -diminishing end of a telescope. There was a forest, a mountain which had -spilt its mighty boulders by the side of a running river with a Chinese -bridge thrown over it. True, one could have bestridden the mountain and -hopped the river, but what did that matter? The real river, the -Kogagawa, rippled beside the grass which ran down to where a great -willow dipped cool fingers in liquid crystal from the mountain heights, -and under that green veil of drooping boughs with eyes half closed it -was possible to dream that the little garden passed into the idea which -had filled its maker’s mind, and became grand and terrible, a place of -wild beauty and awe. - -“It must be so,” said Arima smiling, “because he saw it so, and what a -man has once clearly seen is registered immortal and can be seen by -others when necessary.” - -He sat under the willow, his fine bronzed face and throat bare to the -flitting shadows of trembling leaves. - -“Who made it?” I asked. “He cannot have been a common man.” - -“He was my great-great-grandfather and very far from a common man. I -have a paper in his own hand which tells why and how he made it and it -is a very strange story.” - -He threw away his cigarette and sat looking at the wandering paths paved -with flat stones here and there, the little flowering herbs springing in -the crevices; at the mountain where, altering the scale, you might -wander and be lost for dreadful days in mighty gorges and ravines. The -river swept round it in a rapid current possibly two feet wide and -joined the Kogagawa in a lovely bay quite four feet across where a fairy -fleet might have anchored after a prosperous voyage from Stratford on -Avon in the dream of a midsummer night. - -“Some day I will read you his paper, but not yet. I have reasons for -delay. The spirit of our country is hovering over you but has not yet -entered in and possessed you. People come to Japan in ship-loads and see -the surface bright with colour and gaiety which we spread out before -them. But they do not know. We do not mean they should. To be -truthful—I do not think any foreigner can understand Japan unless he is -a Buddhist at heart— As you are.” - -“I?” I echoed in uttermost astonishment. “My good fellow, I am nothing. -I haven’t the devil of a ghost of a notion what it all means.” - -He looked at me with a quaint smile hiding in the deeps of his narrow -eyes. It peered out like a wise gnome, as old as the hills and older. - -“Your downstairs self knows very well. It has not passed it on yet to -your honourable upstairs self. But the wireless begins to talk and the -air is full of voices beating at your ears. What stories they will tell -you! I should like to hear them.” - -For the moment I could not be sure that he was in earnest. But I could -ask, for it was an intimate hour. - -The full moon was rounding up from behind the mountain of Naniwa where -the monastery of the Thousand-Armed Kwannon, Spirit of Pity, looks out -over a wide and wonderful landscape of woods and valleys. That day we -had visited the house of the Abbot,—The House Built upon Clouds, they -call it, and there, for a moment I had had an experience new and very -difficult to describe. - -Yet I must try. It began with a physical sensation like a strange intake -of breath which I could not expel, and made my heart beat violently. -That passed, but I thought it had affected my head for it seemed that my -memory was disturbed. I could not remember my name, and my past life, as -I recalled it from childhood, was gone, shrunk to an invisible point so -small that I could look over it to something beyond. That something -moved in cloudy shapes impossible to focus into clear vision. I saw as -one sees when a telescope needs adjusting and another turn will clear -all into intelligibility. But for a moment I had dropped my historic, -racial sense like a garment, and the monk with his calm face like lined -and weathered ivory seemed nearer to me than anyone I had ever known -though it was not half an hour since we had met. I could remember his -sonorous Japanese name. My own was gone. I must place the scene clearly. -Arima was examining some ancient vessels of fine three-metal work from -Tibet, and the Abbot and I stood by the window looking out over the vast -drop of the valley from such a height that it was like a swallow’s nest -in the eaves of the spiritual city. Suddenly I was aware that our eyes -were fixed on each other, on my side with passionate, on his with -searching intensity. - -Again, what shall I say? I was conscious that something arresting had -happened and could not tell myself what it was. But it was his eyes -through which I looked, as through a window, with an overwhelming -question. - -Also, he was speaking in a clear low monotone like running water. It was -as though he continued a conversation of which I had lost the beginning. - -“But how can you expect to see without concord of mind? Yours is in the -confusion of a tossing sea. It has no direction. The way you must follow -is to repeat these words until you understand them perfectly.” - -He paused and enunciated these strange words clearly: - -“I have no parents. I make the heavens and the earth my parents. I have -no magic. I make personality my magic. I have no strength. I make -submission my strength. I have neither life nor death. I make the -Self-Existent my life and death. I have no friends. I make my mind my -friend. I have no armour. I make right-thinking and right-doing my -armour. Can you remember this? It is the beginning.” Looking in his eyes -I remembered and repeated it perfectly. - -“Good!” he said with calm approval.—“And there is one clause more. An -important one. ‘I have no sword. I make the sleep of the mind my sword.’ -That signifies that the outer reasoning self, which is really nothing, -must be lulled asleep and put off its guard before the inner self, which -is All, can function.” - -Suddenly as it had come the experience ended. I was released. I stood in -the window, watching the softly floating clouds, the waving woods far, -far beneath, the wheeling of a drove of swallows in blue air. The Abbot -was speaking with Arima; they were handling the vessels, barbarically -rich, and discussing them with interest. Had my experience been some -wild momentary distortion of the brain? I shuddered as if with cold. My -hands were shaking. Then all was normal. - -But, clambering down the hundreds of beautiful broken steps overgrown -with flowers and moss where so many generations have come and gone in -pilgrimage, I said nothing to Arima. It had become impossible. Something -called the war to my mind and I said something careless, but he waved -that aside. - -“We must speak of it no more. Why steep one’s soul in illusion? Much -that we thought real and allowed to affect us was nothing, and the -emotions it caused less than nothing. I have awaked. You are near the -dawn.” - -I thought this remark cruel, and said something heated about the dead -who had paid with their lives for the illusion—the ignorant things one -does say! He received it with his invulnerable Japanese courtesy. - -“I went too fast. Pardon me. The Buddha alone can impart knowledge to -the Buddha, and who am I that I should speak? The time and the master -come together. Here, my friend,—you should drink of this running water. -It comes from a beautiful spring in the mountain above. They call it -‘Light Eternal’ and say that to taste of it is to drink perfect health. -If only it were as easy as that!” - -By the mossy rock lay two little dippers of pure white wood. I was -extremely English at that instant and nothing would have induced me to -soil my lips with a cup used by strangers. I hooped my hands and -drank,—he, from the dipper. - -“You miss the sacrament,” he said, “but the water in any case is good.” - -And so we went home, talking of the treasures of the monastery, wonders -of art, famous throughout Japan. - -But now, in the gathering night concentrating its radiance in a moon so -glorious as to obscure the nearer stars, in the breathless silence made -vocal by the ripple of the river on its eternal way, beneath the dropped -veil of the willow influences were loosed which opened my heart, and I -told Arima my experience of the afternoon. I asked whether he had been -conscious of what had passed. - -His face was a shadow beneath the boughs. I saw only the moonlight in -his eyes as he replied. - -“No. I knew nothing. The Abbot Gyōsen was speaking with me all the time. -I thought you were absorbed in the view. It is most wonderful.” - -That could not satisfy me. - -“Impossible,” I said. “For how could that strange formula come into my -mind? I never heard it before. I have not the faintest notion what it -means.” - -There was a brief silence, then he answered slowly. - -“I scarcely think it my part to clear up the matter. Will you not ask -the Abbot himself? Yet there are one or two things I could say if you -wish.” - -Seeing I was in earnest he continued. - -“The Abbot Gyōsen is a remarkable man. In the first place seclusion in a -mountain temple in devout contemplation purifies the heart, and then he -is a deep student of Zen. Zen is the science of mental or spiritual -concentration. In India they call it Yoga. A man who possesses this -knowledge can do things which to the ignorant of its powers appear -miracles. They are perfectly natural however. In his youth he had -magnificent skill in jujutsu. No man could stand up against him. There -was a reason for that.” - -He was silent for a moment, and then added: - -“His influence is enormous. You would scarcely credit the true stories I -could tell of him.” - -I listened in deep reflection, staring at the broken ripples of -moonlight in the river. Again the weird intake of breath seized me, my -heart beat rapidly with the consciousness that I was face to face with -the Unknown; that it had eyes but I was blind, groping in the dark. -Light, light: That was the cry within me. - -“The formula?” I asked, when my breath steadied again. - -I could not see even his eyes now. Arima was an invisible presence. - -“In Japan,” he said, “in connection with jujutsu and otherwise we -recognize a strange force which we call _kiai_, a very powerful dynamic. -We consider it a manifestation of the primal energy. It lies all round -us for the taking by anyone who will use the necessary means and in -itself is neither good nor evil. The result depends on the person who -uses it. What the Abbot Gyōsen passed into your mind was certain of the -first rules of this knowledge. We call them the Rules of Detachment. He -must have been conscious that you have reached the fit stage for -instruction.” - -“Then all I can say is that he was entirely mistaken. He could hardly -choose a worse subject for any spiritual experiments than myself.” - -Arima laughed slightly but kindly as one laughs at a child’s ignorant -certitude. - -“That is not possible. Men of his sort are not mistaken. But _you_ -mistake. Certainly this force may be employed for a very high kind of -spiritual adventure, but in itself it is neutral. It is only a force, -and what he foresees for you I cannot tell. It is a sword. Now a sword -may be employed by a god or a devil or any of the grades between.” - -This idea was so new to me that I said nothing for a moment, revolving -the thing inwardly. - -“Can you mean that a force of tremendous possibility lies about us for -anyone to use who will? That a man can handle the powers of miracle——” - -He shook his head: - -“There is no miracle. There is only Law and some of us understand it -better than others. Knowledge is always power and the unscrupulous may -know as well as the saints. But they will know from a different and -disastrous angle. Does one always see power in worthy hands? You and I -who have lived through the war know better than that. No, this force is -applicable to small things as to great. It can mean success in -money-grubbing or the open door to an apostleship. As I said—it is a -sword. But it cannot be trifled with. It carries you to a stage where -you perceive the danger too late and are seized with an indescribable -horror. The wings melt in the sun’s flame, and then——” - -He made an eloquent gesture with his hand which suggested a fall from -some unimagined height. - -“I won’t believe it,” I said resolutely. “That whatever rules the -universe should trust it anywhere to clumsy or wicked interference— No, -impossible!” - -“Yet we see it daily,” Arima replied calmly. “But things always come -right in the long run. This power of which I speak is only one gesture -of the Supreme and there is much behind it. Illusions pass like clouds -but the sun remains.” - -“But—but,” I hesitated. - -“It is this which explains the mystery of good and evil, as we call -them. Think it out and you will see. Shall we go in now? I have a fancy -that the processes of the night—even the river—like to be free of us -intruders. If we are not in harmony with them——” - -“Arima!” I said on an impulse, “have you this secret? I think—I know -that in your hands it would be safe. What you have said makes me long -for more. If the Abbot judged me fit for so much—and you say he must -have known——” - -He stretched his hand in the moonlight and grasped mine in a strong -clasp. I had a sensation of something throbbing and beating from his -wrist to mine. It flowed tingling along my veins until it was warm about -my heart. - -“It is day!” he said. - -I heard no more. It was day. A fierce sun blazed upon me and I was alone -in an unknown country. A mountain, in contour like the famous Fuji, -loomed up majestic, snow spilt down its sides like the sticks of a half -opened fan. I stood in a mighty gorge beside a fiercely running mountain -river, the swift torrent forced back by its own speed among the rocks in -curling white waves. Where two rocks craned forward to each other from -opposing shores a noble Chinese bridge, huge stones gigantically moulded -almost to a semi-circular spring, spanned and bridled the wild creature -beneath, and on either shore was a willow tree. - -Why was it familiar though so strange? But I stood bewildered. A moment -ago I had been beside my friend in moonlight and quiet, now a great sun -beat on tossing mountains and river, and I was alone. - -Terribly alone. I stood ignorant which way to turn, helpless, baffled, -in a place which might have been empty from the world’s beginning, but -for the bridge. Would anyone ever come? Should I roam there imprisoned -in vastness until I died? It was a nightmare of terror. I ran to the -great willow as if for refuge in its tent of delicate shifting shade, -and pushing aside the boughs I entered and sat down throwing my arm -about the trunk, smooth, warm, as the flesh of a woman, that I might -steady myself against something living and tangible. - -There are Dryads in Japan, tree spirits, and especially do they haunt -the willow. Beautiful, alarming, some of the stories, but always -instinct with the life which lies just below our horizon. Now I was -conscious of some presence beside me, not to be accosted until its own -moment of choice. I put out my hand instinctively; it met nothing. I -said a word aloud. No answer. And again most disabling fear submerged -me. Then, clear and small, as if written, the Rules of Detachment rose -in my mind, and hurrying, I repeated them under my breath, not knowing -how they could help, but catching at anything. - -“I have no parents. I make the heavens and the earth my parents. I have -no strength. I make submission my strength.” And so to the end. - -“I have no sword. I make the sleep of the mind my sword.” - -Now, as I said these words the meaning flashed upon me in light. Here -was I—alone in a frightful solitude—so desolate that it might have -been the Mountains of the Moon. What means of escape could I make for -myself? What friends had I—what sword? The Rules assured me. The -enemies—the mountains, the wild ways, were my slaves if I could believe -it. In submission strength awaited me. In the surrender of the plotting -reason, which can only break tangible material obstacles, my latent -powers would function. And what were they? - -Once more and confidently I repeated the words, knowing that they -unloosed some hard-bound knot in my being. I willed to be in the garden -of Arima. My one instinct was flight. - -I was sitting beneath the willow tree— Yes, but in Arima’s garden, and -he was beside me looking steadfastly at the river where moonlight flowed -away with it to the ocean. - -Impossible to describe the shock of relief. It never occurred to me to -ask if I had been asleep—to think I had been hypnotized or anything of -the kind. I knew the experience was real. - -“Where have I been?” That was the only possible question. He replied: - -“In the garden. Did you not recognize it? See—the mountain, the tumbled -rocks, the river and bridge. _But_ in the garden as my ancestor first -saw it. Some day you shall hear why.” - -“But first—first— Was I long there? Time—I forgot time.” - -“You are there now, only the blinkers are over your eyes again. And as -to time—there is no such thing as time. There is only eternity. If I -count in the way we measure when we wear our blinkers you had the sight -for twenty-four hours. It was last night when it began. Now it is -to-night. I have slept, have eaten, have walked to the village and -written many letters and all the time you sat here. Time is really -nothing but a dream—a necessity in the world of the Three Dimensions. -As soon as you break the shell—it is nothing.” - -Again I cannot describe the tumult of feeling in me, mingled with a -passionate longing for something of my own lost and ravished from me. I -had a sense of unutterable weakness and shame. He read my thought like -speech and answered: - -“But you threw it from yourself. You were frightened, forlorn, and you -caught at the Rules and concentrated, and being power they acted as you -wished, and transported you back into the blindness of the daily life -that walls us in from the Lovely, the Utterly Desirable.” - -“You mean,” I said slowly, “that one can ruin oneself as easily as save. -And that I should not have come back at my own will?” - -“Exactly. One must always go on. To come back is highly dangerous. If -you had had patience and had concentrated upon what is called -‘extension’ you would have climbed the mountain and on the other -side——” - -“What? What?” I cried, for he paused. - -“We call it the Shining Country. You would have—liked it! Also you -would have met the One who Waits.” - -I repeated in bewilderment; - -“The One who Waits? But who?” - -“I cannot tell. Different people probably for everyone. It might have -been my great-great-grandfather for all I know. He is often in his -garden. But it is the right one always. Don’t think I blame you though -for using your scrap of power in a fright. That often happens at first. -What man has mastered jujutsu at the first throw? Still, he may be badly -hurt, and you are hurt and will pay for it. Later on, beware that you -never use power to bring you back to the place you have left it. A man -pays for that to the last farthing.” - -“You mean—snatching at the wrong things?” - -“Yes, in a way. The wrong things for you. There is no fixed way or rigid -moral standard. There cannot be. All depends upon the man himself and -the occasion, and—many a man has been saved by his sins. One learns the -rules as one goes. Of course the rudiments of them govern every sort of -society of men civilized or uncivilized. But you must be hungry. Come -in.” - -I shall never forget that meal. Nothing could be simpler. There were -rice cakes, honey, eggs, and pale fragrant tea. But—I despair of -words—the food had new meanings. I could feel the good of it, the life -of nature, of living things, passing into my blood, so restorative that -when it was eaten I felt like a tuned violin on the shoulder of a mighty -master; not a sound or sight but drew harmonious answer from my spirit. -The river flowed from the footstool of the Eternal. Each flower shouted -its evangel and their chorus was that of the morning stars singing -together. The dart of the swallows was the flight of arrows from the bow -of Love. They dazzled in blue air. I daresay no more. - -Arima came out in his cotton kimono and bare head. I saw new meanings in -his face each moment, and the bronzed beauty of the man struck on a -naked nerve, as though each sight of beauty awakened a longing for the -next step beyond. He read my thought, and pausing in his work of -training a fruit bough answered meditatively; - -“Yes, even the first breath of air in that country is inspiration. It is -full of dangers—a fighting country, sometimes a No Man’s Land. Some of -its ways seem to lead horribly downward. And there is always hell.” - -“Hell? A state of mind?” - -“Yes, and of body too—they sometimes involve each other. But it braces -one. There is much more to it than you can know yet. Only remember—one -has got to break into that country somehow unless one is content to be -the prisoner of the senses for a whole wasted lifetime.” - -I shuddered slightly. - -“At the present moment I don’t feel that I ever want to see it again.” - -“Natural enough. Let us have a bout of jujutsu now.” - -We stripped, and he threw me as he always did, but all the same I was -learning. I got a new lock that day and, more important, made an advance -in pliability. I stooped and yielded and released myself when I thought -he had got me for good. He shouted with pleasure. - -“Right! You will be a shodan one day. That is our lowest teaching grade. -Now rest.” - -He came up to me an hour later: - -“You are wishing to go to the Kwannon monastery to see the Abbot. He -will receive you. Before you start would you like to hear the story of -my ancestor and the garden? It is very short.” - -Strange. I had not thought of the Abbot, but I knew now that to see him -was my inmost wish. That had been the meaning of my joy. I nodded, and -Arima led the way to the willow. I did not then know why but the magic -of the garden centred in that willow, thrilled in every leaf of it. - -We sat down in its shade; I, on the grass with my arms clasped about my -knees. - -“My ancestor was a handsome young man, and the only son of a rich and -noble family who owned much land about here. Nearly all ran through his -fingers in his extravagance and flowed away from the family like -river-water, until only a few acres just here were left. I need not tell -you all his life—you can imagine the story of a rich, reckless, -sensuous fellow without bit or bridle. But he was a fine soldier, a fine -poet—we think much of that in Japan—and he wrote the story of his life -later with such fire and drama and such strange hidden things, that if -it could be printed—but it never could. People would not believe it. -Some day you shall read.” - -A strange change came over the garden while he spoke. It extended itself -before my eyes—flowing outward softly. The flowering bushes which had -been within a few feet were now vague in the distance. The mountain -flung a cone of shadow over leagues. Even as I saw this, we were in the -land of True Sight—yes, that was its name—and Arima was telling his -story under the willow of my terror. - -“He had broken his own wife’s heart. He coveted the love of the wife of -a man of good birth—a samurai named Satoro, and taking her by force -made her his own. The husband, unarmed, met him here in what is now this -garden, and when he drew his sword to attack him, by the power of the -most skilful jujutsu dashed the sword from his hand and himself to the -ground, breaking his jaw and blinding him with blood. He had to endure -the disgrace. Terrible humiliation for a nobleman! No help— Look about -you and see how lonely!” - -“Awful and vast the mountains stretched away into snowy silences with -the muted roar of a distant avalanche. Cold, shudderingly cold the -river, frozen in the pools with a bitter glaze of ice. No life, no -death, but arrested petrifaction, with the moon stranded on a peak in a -dead world. - -“And the sword! A sword worn by his ancestors in knightly fashion, pure -steel and gold—the very spirit of the house. Satoro picked it up and -stood leaning on it over the prostrate man as he lay on the rocks -writhing like a crushed snake to hide his ruined face. - -“‘This place is your own heart,’ he said; ‘cold, empty and dead. You -will come back to it times out of mind. Kimi san, my wife, is on the -other side of the mountain. You never possessed her; she is mine. But -what I have to say is this. Your sword also is mine. I have a lien on -you. You are my slave. I tell you now to begin at the beginning. You -shall learn jujutsu. What it will teach you is to defend yourself from -yourself. And when you have learnt that— Then I shall give you fresh -orders.’ - -“The man raved and swore and spat blood, all unintelligibly as a beast. -He was humiliated in all that a Japanese noble most values, and his only -thought at the moment was revenge and suicide. The other stood, looking -down upon him with calm. ‘I will return the sword to my lord when he -knows its use. A good sword scorns an ignorant wearer. Now I leave you, -but we shall meet in this place.’ - -“He went off, walking lightly and strongly. The fallen man dragged -himself together. To lose his sword— Do Westerners understand that -bitterness? I cannot tell. - -“A retainer came by and finding him, summoned help. When they got him to -the house, they told him the woman was dead. She had severed an artery -in her throat as a Japanese lady must do in the face of dishonour. Blind -with rage he sent to the house of her husband to slaughter him. He had -disappeared. - -“Henceforth my ancestor was known as The Man without a Sword—a terrible -name. He could not appear among the nobles. His life was a ruined -thing.” - -Arima paused again and then added: - -“It would be better that the Abbot should tell you the rest. You will -think it remarkable.” - -I stood up, so possessed with the story, for he had told it like one -inspired, that it was only as I moved that my position flashed on me. - -“How can I go? I am lost in the mountains. Come with me!” - -He stood beside me, looking onward: - -“That is impossible. There are never any guides. There is only power. -Besides, there are different ways for different people and I know -nothing of yours.” - -I looked about me, considering. The bridge was the obvious way and -certainly the easiest. I did not know the hour, and there was a hint of -dusk in the air, but I had already learnt that in this strange land time -and its phenomena have quite other meanings than with us. Night might -break on me in a wave of sunlight or dawn open its rose in the heart of -midnight. Who could tell? But the bridge way would be safer. - -I turned to say a last word to Arima. There was no human being in sight; -it was a vast solitude dominated by the black cone of the mountain’s -shadow. - -I made for the bridge walking as quickly as the rough stones allowed, -and climbing its semi-circular hump I looked before me and rejoiced to -see the track much clearer than it had seemed from the other side. -Evidently a well-used way, and this encouraged me in my hope of meeting -someone who could direct me to the monastery of Naniwa. Therefore I went -with more confidence, relieved from the crawling fear of the -supernatural which the other side of the bridge inspired. - -The track took me up a slight rise and round a jutting rock which -obscured the river, and having done about two miles of quick walking I -heard steps coming round a bend of the trail and rejoiced to think I -could ascertain the way. - -Nearer they came and disclosed a Japanese, his kimono pulled up through -the obi for the ease of walking. He made the usual polite bow and would -have passed but for my raised hand. I asked my way with the honorifics I -had learnt from Arima. He stopped at once and replied with the utmost -courtesy: - -“The monastery? Yes— You could go this way. One reaches it by several. -But it is not the right way. Far from it.” - -“Then will you tell me how to go?” - -“Sir, I cannot tell you. I wish I could. I really do not know your way.” -It was infuriating. I said scoffingly: - -“If you know this is wrong surely you know which is right?” He replied -as if he were saying the most ordinary thing in the world: - -“Sir, it is not so easy as you think. Places are states of mind in this -country, therefore you will honourably see that no one can tell anyone -else their way and how best to get there.” - -Bowing, he made to pass me. It was then that for the first time I -noticed two things. One that his hair was dressed in the old-fashioned -queue headdress which one sees in Japanese prints, shaved, but for a -knot drawn up on the head, the other that he had a most remarkable face. -The features were good, even excellent, and the dark bright colouring -fine. But the eyes were arresting under the black level brows, and -filled with tranquillity as a pool with shadows. On the impulse they -gave me I spoke. - -“I wish I could go with you.” - -“Sir, that could hardly be. I come from Yedo and I go to my garden in -the valley you have left.” - -Yedo!—the ancient and long-disused name of Tokyo,—and Tokyo on the -central island and days’ journey away! Train and boat might have brought -him, and yet—shivering doubt assailed me like the thin creeping of -drops of water through a dyke which presages the later roar of the -flood. The garden! I could not withhold myself nor hesitate. - -“May I ask your name?” - -“If you want to know my name you must watch what road I take and know to -what I return. How can you know? I did not even think you would have -seen me. Since it is so however, I will repeat that in this road you -will have great need of self-defence. Now I bid you goodbye and wish you -safely at Naniwa.” - -He was gone round the corner so quickly that I had a sensation of -vanishing. I ran after him and looked. Nothing. So I took my way onward. -He had told me nothing to change it. A word really would have sent me -backward to try my luck in another direction but he had not spoken it. - -Soon after it was dark and raining, with a moon very young and -bewildered in drifting clouds. She gave a weary light scarcely enough to -hint the track and indicate a group of trees, the first I had seen, on -the right. Coming up, among them was a small flickering light, and the -barking of a dog sounded homely and even inviting, for by this time I -was dragging tired feet. If I could sleep there how welcome the rest and -shelter! - -The place looked poor and dilapidated enough to be open to any offer of -payment though in any case I might have trusted to the hospitality of -the country Japanese. - -I knocked at the rough door wondering that anyone could exist in such a -tumble-down place and a young girl came to the door, faintly seen in dim -lamplight. She stared at me in astonishment and bowing low, called -softly: - -“Madam, mistress,—what shall I do? A gentleman.” - -A young voice answered: - -“Tell him to come in if he will do us such an honour,” and a graceful -little figure appeared in the opening of a lattice door, her face unseen -because the light fell behind her. I obeyed. Poor as the house was that -room was enchanting. Very simple, but the draperies were good, the -cushions beautiful in colour, the _hibachi_ was full of charcoal and -above and round all bathing it in charm was the delicate perfume of a -woman’s presence. She rose from her profound Japanese salutation and -looked me in the face. - -“Hay sama!” she faltered, paling to the lips. And I knew—I knew! - -Six months before in the crowded city of Tokyo I had gone to a dinner at -a restaurant near Shimbashi. I remembered the garden outside with clumps -of gorgeous chrysanthemums, lamps of splendid colour before the dusk -drowned them and the moon washed them with silver. Geisha attended us, -girls with every nerve braced and strung for their profession of -charming the wary and unwary alike. And I was charmed by the sad mirth -that looked out from one pair of dark and lovely eyes. I drew her aside -before the evening ended and asked her to follow me to the _machiai_—a -house of meeting, and escaping from the noisy party I waited in the cold -handsomely furnished room that never spoke of love, until she came. - -That meeting led to many things—some merry, some sad, but when I left -Tokyo to see her no more I knew that the part I had played was to set my -heel on her little head and drive her deeper into the mire. Still, it -was ended and need trouble me no more. One could forget. - -And now I sat by her side in this land of bitter memories. - -She drew a cushion beside mine and leaning her little black head against -my shoulder looked up in my face, welcoming me with the sweet courtesy -mingled with fear that I remembered so well. - -“And why are you here in this wild place, Hana san? Have you given up -your work?” - -Her bewildered look! I can see it now. - -“How can I tell? I—I came. I was told it must be.” - -“You are resting here? You go back?” - -“Let us talk of other things, Hay sama. How I am glad to see you!” I -could get nothing more from her than that. - -Silence and the little noises of dropping charcoal, and the softness of -her in my arms. It was a renewal of that passionate intimacy which had -left a wound in the very heart of my soul. - -We talked into the small hours,—so much to say, so much to hear, and -time passed—hours, days— How could I tell? And then as fatigue and -quiet and warmth overpowered all my resolution she put her arms about me -and gathered me to her bosom and the night melted into passion and -passion into dream and the dark stole past us on noiseless feet. - -I waked in a chill dawn alone, disillusioned and abashed, dragged back -violently to a thing I had forgotten and abhorred. The room was empty, a -cold wind blowing through the tattered paper of the window, and when I -called, no answer. The two women had gone with the night. No food, no -fire, dead ash in the _hibachi_, emptiness and the squalid decay of a -wooden house long forgotten. What had a beauty of Tokyo been doing in -such a place? - -Fear of the loneliness seized me. I went out quickly without looking -after me, then at the twist of the path turned and saw—desolation and -waving weeds and a bough of some bush thrust through the window that had -taken root within. I pushed on toward Naniwa, sick at heart. - -It was at that moment a thought shot through me and chilled my blood. -When Arima and I had visited Naniwa it had taken us exactly two hours -from his house to the monastery hill. But yesterday I had walked for -many hours, and to-day seemed no nearer my goal. Grey interminable -moorland stretched before me with a mountain blocking the way at a -distance and other tossing peaks beyond. Where was I? Where was Naniwa? -Might I not walk for ever and ever in widening circles to a lost goal? -The ground whispered with evil in every blade of grass. It hissed in the -rustle of dry squat bushes. And last night—last night! There were -reasons why that memory brought horror and shame to be my companions on -the right and left. But I went on from sheer inability to consider what -else I must do. - -The clump of bushes on the right parted and a tall strong fellow burst -out of them and planted himself across my way. A Japanese, broad, -brawny, violent-faced. As I halted he sprang at my throat like a wolf. - -“And you tracked her here? You could not let her be? Then take your -payment from her husband Kondo!” - -What happened next came in a blinding flash. He struck at me with a -loaded stick. It missed the first blow and I had him by the throat with -the new lock I had learnt from Arima, shaking him violently to and fro, -driving my fingers deeper and deeper into his flesh in a frenzy of rage -and hate. I would have the innermost heart’s blood of the brute. - -I had it. He reeled in my grasp with horrible choking noises, and -suddenly I was shaking the life out of a dead thing. As I thrust him -from me with sickening triumph he fell heavily as a full sack prone on -the track before me. - -It must have been long before the rage died in me and I stood face to -face with my position. I—a foreigner—had killed a Japanese, and after -an intrigue with his wife. It felled me beside him—I crouched and hid -my face and tried to think. - -Presently I rose and with the murderer’s instinct dragged the corpse -into the bushes to hide it. Thought was impossible. I suffered as a dumb -beast must suffer the extremity of torture without the power to reason. -Only I must hide it and flee. The neighbourhood of the horrible thing -was hell. - -I went on. - -Later— “Is it just—is it just?” I said to myself, “that one instant’s -madness should doom a man for ever?”—forgetting the long temptation I -had played with, the slow delicious yielding, the triumph and delight -with which I had slowly built up my torture chamber. Not only from the -time I landed in Japan, but before,—I had been busy at the building all -my life. How could I complain when the trap snapped on me? - -At last I broke from the numbness into memory. The man who had passed me -on his way to his garden. His words returned like black birds flying -heavily round my head. - -“You are not in the right way. Places are states of mind. In this way -you will have much need of self-defence.” - -And Arima’s words also. “There is no guide. There is only power.” - -Power. That brought the Abbot to my mind—the Rules. Could it be that -they could rescue me from this horrible country where evil hid like a -snake behind every stone. O, to be out of it—free—forgetting! I -remember I fell on my knees as if in prayer and with dreadful -earnestness began to repeat the Rules, passionately desiring the garden -of peace. - -“I have no parents. I make the heaven and the earth my parents. I have -no weapons—I make submission my strength.” Light broke in my brain. -Submission? Then should I dictate—should I trust myself to my own -choice of where I would be? Arima had warned me against return. - -“If you had used what we call ‘extension’ and had gone on you would have -been on the other side of the mountain.” If there were to be refuge for -such as I it could only lie along the way of courage. I knew it—I knew -it. - -I changed my thought instantly. “Set me where I should be if it is in -the gateway of hell.” And again. “Only free me of myself. Let me go -forward. There is no sin like cowardice. Better lust and murder and the -fight to the death with them than cowardice.” - -Then, with an intensity that shook me like a leaf in storm I uttered the -words of power, hiding my face in a very passion of belief. - -Quiet. I lifted my face and looked about me for the terrible way I had -accepted. I was lying on the broken steps ascending to the monastery and -the House Built upon Clouds at Naniwa. And it was dawn. - -The wonder of peace! The sun had not yet out-soared the eastern trees -and every bough dropped dew to the glittering grass. A bird, its little -clenching feet on a blossomed twig beside me, sang like all the bliss of -heaven. In a pool at my feet the lotus, child of the clear cold stream, -raised rosy chalices to the sky and from it ran a stream divinely clear -and bright. The sun might have been the first that ever shone upon a -perfected world untroubled by man, so clear and clean the water-gold of -the morning. - -I stood up and looked about me drawing deep breaths of purity. Above me -beneath a great tree, lost in contemplation, sat the Abbot Gyōsen. - -I stumbled towards him. I remember I said: “I have come,” and that he -motioned with his hand to a place beside him. Together we watched the -slow crescendo of the mighty music of the dawn. - -The sun was above the trees when he spoke, turning the serenity of his -face upon me. - -“You have learnt your lesson. Has it brought content?” I summoned my -thoughts to reply clearly. - -“I have learnt much but the truth I do not know. Does the corpse still -lie on the moor and the woman weep in the deserted house. Am I guilty?” - -“In your soul, yes. Therefore in truth, yes. When you yielded to lust in -your heart and willed murder both were accomplished. Your own Scriptures -teach this and that thought is the only true reality. This have all the -Buddhas known. In what men ignorantly call fact you are not guilty. But, -being guilty, learn this. Every instant terminates a life and the next -is a new birth. While each minute exists the past is dead and the future -unmade. I speak here according to the knowledge of this world, but the -truth is that there is _no_ time, and that you are now what the Divine -sees you—a ray of his splendour. This truth being as yet too high for -you to remember that even on this world’s showing you are free to be -what you will. The choice lies before you. With a thought you may be in -the horror of the Desolate Country, with another in the Shining Land. -For every man makes his own universe until he can see it as it is in the -Thought of the Divine.” - -Blinded with truth I asked a question simply as a child. - -“Then what must I do?” - -“Resolve and go forward,—what else? knowing that in yourself is all -power.” - -“But the training? Free me from myself! If we can realize these powers -the means of using so terrible a weapon rightly should be open to all.” - -“It is open. But men will not believe. They will not will. They do not -think, and events take them like sea-weed on a wave. You know your own -weakness but it is strength compared with that of the majority. You, at -least, have seen and heard. Study the teachings of the perfect One, the -Buddha, if you would be a man. Realize your union with Power, knowing -that it is a harp of many strings of which you are one, and tune -yourself in harmony with the music of the spheres. At present you are a -man without a sword.” - -That phrase! It kindled a world of recollection. I looked into his face -with another entreaty. - -“Arima sama told me that I might hear the end of the story of the Man -without a Sword from your honourable self. Tell it to me, I beseech -you.” - -He rose and invited me to follow him into the House Built upon Clouds -promising that he would rejoin me when he had transacted some necessary -business. I sat in the window looking out and down into the glorious -depth of waving woods bathing in sunshine like water, experiencing -myself such tranquil joy as the trees themselves must know, fulfilling -their perfect Law in the smile of the Divine. - -It was long before the Abbot returned, but to me it seemed a moment. We -have no true means of measuring time for the truth is that it has no -existence, and when the soul is liberated this truth is evident. At once -he began the story of the Man without a Sword. - -“In Japan very terrible was the position of the man who had lost his -sword. Better a thousand deaths of lingering torture. There was no man -so low as to give him companionship—and he a noble! Therefore he -changed his name to that of Kazuma, and casting aside what money was -left he abandoned his wife who was dying of grief and shame, and coming -to Yedo took up the study of jujutsu hoping some day to become a teacher -of this in the great city. More lonely a man could not be than Kazuma. -His wife died. His son was taken by his brother and he saw him no more. -His own name was blotted out and forgotten. His brother believed and -hoped him dead, and but for the command of his foe he would have killed -himself. - -“Jujutsu, my son, is, as you know from Arima sama, an art that every -noble person should learn. It is said to have come from China, and it -was taught that the very Gods had used it in chastising the barbarians. -The name roughly signifies ‘the strength of weakness,’ and thus it -arose. It was noted that the boughs of a willow were not broken by a -heavy fall of snow when strong trees cracked beneath the weight. And -why? Being pliant they bowed their weakness and the snow slipped off. My -son, recall the Rule. ‘I have no strength. I make submission my -strength.’ As with the soul so it is with the body. How shall I sum up -this art of attack and self-defence? It is the perfect control of the -mind resisting defeat. It is to use weakness in such a way that it -masters brute strength. I have seen a slight woman who possessed this -knowledge fling a heavy man over her shoulder and stun him. There are -locks and blows which may easily kill the opponent and for this reason -the higher secrets are withheld from all but those who are fit for -initiation. The pupils are trained to endure heat and cold and all -hardships. It is a high and noble discipline, for no greatness can be -attained without abstinence from the three vices of lust, drink, and the -love of money with their attendant diseases of the spirit. - -“This art Kazuma studied, and as he did so much became clear to him and -he approached the secret of life. And when he had reached a certain -skill his master taught him that there is in jujutsu a higher branch of -mysterious power. And he, beginning dimly to apprehend the meaning of -the command laid on him by the husband of the woman he had slain, for so -indeed he had, desired with eagerness to advance. - -“Now, my son, at the gate of this higher initiation stands a ceremony to -be endured. The initiate must submit to strangulation and to be revived -by _kwappo_—the art which recalls men to life. And should this fail, -revival is made by means of a power named _kiai_. To Kazuma, knowing -nothing of _kiai_, but very weary of life, this command came like the -friendly voice of death, and with joy he presented himself to the master -of the art who was chosen to be his executioner. - -“He lay down, offering his throat, and in a few seconds was what is -called dead. - -“Now, being thus enfranchised, instantly he found himself in the place -of his humiliation by the rushing river, with cold desolation about him. -And by the river knelt his conqueror washing the blood from his hands as -though their fight was but just ended. He rose and faced Kazuma. - -“‘You have obeyed my command.’ - -“‘I have obeyed.’ - -“‘What have you learnt?’ - -“‘That there is no death. It is more life, but life as we have made it. -As a man has sown he reaps in life after life.’ - -“‘Until what time?’ - -“‘Until the time when he sows good grain.’ - -“‘Do you repent your past?’ - -“‘I do not look back. I go forward. It is forgotten. The man who did the -deed died with it. Now I would be a teacher of jujutsu.’ - -“‘Well said! You have learnt to defend yourself from yourself and you -would teach others. I will give you fresh orders.’ Kazuma stood like a -soldier before his general. - -“‘Teach what you have learnt. Then come back, and in this place of -desolation where you fought and conquered more than you knew make a -garden and build a bridge. Go now,—in power!’ - -“He bowed low, Kazuma also. ‘My friend!’— As the words met his ear they -melted in a confused murmur of human voices and he struggled back to -consciousness in the school of jujutsu in Yedo. Men knelt and stooped -about him fearful lest he had gone so far on the way of death that even -the powerful shout of _kiai_ could not reach him. But he rose and -gravely thanking his executioner went and stood before his master. - -“My son, Kazuma became the greatest teacher of jujutsu in Japan. He -could disarm and bring to his feet a two-sworded man shrieking for -mercy. With his shout he could do to death any evil-doer within hearing -and restore the fool when he had mastered his lesson. Power was mighty -in his step, his gesture, his glance. What money he made, and it was -much, was for those who had need, he himself living in an untouchable -content. - -“Thus time went by. - -“One day, having saved the life of the only son of a noble house, the -father coming to him said: - -“‘My lord, what shall I give you? In mercy accept a gift lest I and my -house break under the weight of gratitude. Have pity and take!’ - -“So, after much musing, Kazuma replied. - -“‘You have bought great lands by the river Koga. I grow old. Give me, my -lord, if you will, a corner by the river, very small, where I may make a -garden and build a wooden bridge for those who must cross the rapids. -Very dangerous is the current.’ - -“So it was done and he made his garden and built with his own hands a -bridge of wood, and there was no day but the people blessed his name and -learnt from him that power lies about them for the taking and that its -best use at the present time is to make gardens and be a builder of -bridges. Other uses later. My son, Kazuma still walks in his garden and -he sits beneath his willow and his sword hangs at his side. The bridge -leads where you know, for you have crossed it.” - -There was a moment’s silence and it spoke as never yet words. He -resumed. - -“My son, make your own garden. And there is room for many bridges.” - -When my mind dwells on beauty the face of the Abbot full of unworded -meanings floats on clear air before me. It ended and completed the story -so that all he left unsaid was written in fire between the spoken words. -And I understood and like himself cannot express more than the alphabet. - -I returned from Naniwa by the hidden way. Flowers blossomed along the -moors. I never saw more lovely, and where the corpse had lain children -were dancing in a ring. Where the broken house had crouched among trees, -was a shrine to the Thousand-Handed Spirit of Mercy beloved in Japan. A -child lay in her bosom and her hidden eyes were bent upon it in a -moonlight rapture. May I live in that country for the eternities! - -I crossed the bridge and walked beside the river to the garden of Arima. -He sat by the water plaiting a basket of willow, and rose, bowing, to -meet me. - -“I have come,” I said, “to learn jujutsu.” - -He smiled. - -I have learnt it and with it the secret of power. I go in and out of -Kazuma’s garden. And beyond. - -And the Abbot, who was once Kazuma, and will be more, sits there, girded -with his sword. - - THE END - - - - - TRANSCRIBER NOTES - -Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple -spellings occur, majority use has been employed. - -Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors -occur. - -A cover was created for this eBook and is placed in the public domain. - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAMS AND DELIGHTS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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margin-top:2em; } - .poetry-container { font-size:.9em; - margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; - margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; } - div.blockquote { margin-top:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em; } - .pindent {margin-top: 0.3em; margin-bottom: 0em;} - hr.tbk { border:none; border-bottom:1px solid; - width:30%; margin-left:35%; margin-right:35%; - margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; visibility:hidden; } - hr.pbk { width:50%; } - .bbox {border-style:solid; border-width:2px; width:19em; - margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; padding:.01em; - border-color:black; } - hr.boxed { height:2px; border-width:0; background-color:black; } - </style> - </head> - <body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dreams and delights, by L. Adams Beck</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Dreams and delights</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: L. Adams Beck</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 14, 2023 [eBook #69786]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Al Haines, Cindy Beyer & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAMS AND DELIGHTS ***</div> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='figcenter' style='width:80%'> -<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0000' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='bbox'> - -<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';bold;fs:.9em;' --> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.9em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='it'>THE NOVELS OF</span></p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.9em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='it'>L. ADAMS BECK</span></p> -</div></div> <!-- end rend --> - -<hr class="boxed"/> - -<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';bold;fs:.9em;' --> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.9em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>The Key of Dreams</span></p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.9em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>The Perfume of the Rainbow</span></p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.9em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>The Treasure of Ho</span></p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.9em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>The Ninth Vibration</span></p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.9em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>The Way of Stars</span></p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.9em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>The Splendour of Asia</span></p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.9em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>Dreams and Delights</span></p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div></div> <!-- end rend --> - -</div> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';bold;' --> -<p class='line0' style='margin-top:1em;font-size:2.5em;font-weight:bold;'>DREAMS</p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:2.5em;font-weight:bold;'>AND DELIGHTS</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY</p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>L. ADAMS BECK</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='font-weight:bold;'>NEW YORK</p> -<p class='line0' style='margin-top:.2em;margin-bottom:.2em;font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY</p> -<p class='line0' style='font-weight:bold;'>1926</p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='lgc' style='margin-top:1em;'> <!-- rend=';fs:.8em;' --> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.8em;'>Copyright, 1920, 1922, 1923, 1924, 1925, 1926</p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.8em;'>BY DODD, MEAD, & COMPANY, INC.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='margin-top:5em;margin-bottom:3em;font-size:.8em;'>Printed in U. S. A.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.8em;'><span style='font-size:smaller'>THE VAIL-BALLOU PRESS</span></p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:.8em;'><span style='font-size:smaller'>BINGHAMTON AND NEW YORK</span></p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.2em;'>PREFACE</p> - -<p class='pindent'>These stories of dreams and delights in breathless jungles -of Ceylon, among Himalayan mountains, by Chinese seas, -in ancientries beneath dead suns and withered moons, are in -truth the soul’s longing to behold the White Swan of the -World when in dim twilights of dawn and evening she -spreads her wings for flight. And because to such wings -time and distance are nothing I have gathered one feather -dropped on Dartmoor as she soared to Gaurisankar where -on the highest peak of earth, circled by great stars, the -Mystic Mother of India dreams her divine dream as the -ages unroll beneath her feet. The Snowy Goddess, She who -is Very Woman of very woman, knows that whether by -Thames or Ganges, Mississippi, Yang-tze, or rolling Nile, -Her daughters are the same, yesterday, to-day and for ever, -and holding in their hands the hearts of men, so fulfil Her -purpose. And because no true story can be told without -this knowledge, I set Her name at the beginning of these -dreams and delights, invoking devoutly the protection and -inspiration of Her who is at once Eve and Lilith, Athene and -Aphrodite, Parwati and Kali, Virgin, Mother, and Destroyer, -but in all forms and incarnations, Enchantress and Conqueror -of men.</p> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:right;margin-right:1em;'><span class='sc'>L. Adams Beck.</span></p> - -<p class='noindent'>Canada.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<table id='tab1' summary='' class='center'> -<colgroup> -<col span='1' style='width: 1em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 22.5em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 2.5em;'/> -</colgroup> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle0' colspan='3'><span style='font-size:larger'>CONTENTS</span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><span style='font-size:x-small'>PAGE</span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span>“<span class='sc'>V. Lydiat</span>”</span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch1'>3</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span><span class='sc'>The Sea of Lilies</span></span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch2'>41</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span><span class='sc'>The Bride of a God</span></span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch3'>61</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span><span class='sc'>The Beloved of the Gods</span></span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch4'>89</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span><span class='sc'>The Hidden One</span></span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch5'>107</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span><span class='sc'>The Marriage of the Princess</span></span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch6'>143</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span><span class='sc'>The Wisdom of the Orient</span></span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch7'>167</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span><span class='sc'>Stately Julia</span></span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch8'>185</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span><span class='sc'>The Island of Pearls</span></span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch9'>215</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span><span class='sc'>The Wonderful Pilgrimage to Amarnath</span></span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch10'>253</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 leader-dots tdStyle2'><span><span class='sc'>The Man Without a Sword</span></span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle3'><a href='#ch11'>281</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1em;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:1.2em;'>“V. LYDIAT”</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch1'>“V. LYDIAT”</h1></div> - -<p class='pindent'>She sat and looked at the signature written under the -name of the story in readiness for typing.</p> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1em;margin-bottom:1em;'>“THE NINEFOLD FLOWER.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was a fine story, she knew, and the signature satisfied her -also as it always did. <span class='it'>V.</span> is the most beautiful letter in the -alphabet to write and look at, the ends curving over from -the slender base like the uprush of a fountain from its tense -spring. When she “commenced author,” as the eighteenth -century puts it, she devoted days and days to the consideration -of that pen-name. For several reasons it must not reveal -identity. Most women prefer the highwayman’s mask -when they ride abroad to hold up the public. It gives a -freedom impossible when one is tethered to the responsibilities -of name and family. One becomes a foundling in -the great city of Literature and the pebble-cold eye of human -relationship passes unaware over what would have stung -it into anger or jealousy if it had held the key of the -mystery. That is, if the secret is guarded as carefully as -V. Lydiat’s.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But, for all I know, her strange reason for secrecy may -never in this world have swayed man or woman before.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In reality she was Beatrice Veronica Law Leslie.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A mouthful indeed! You can make as many combinations -with that as with the trick lock of a safe, and it will be -as difficult to pick the secret. She had a strong superstition -about keeping to her own initials, anagrammed or reversed -and twisted. It seemed to her that this was part of a bond -of honour of which another held the pledge. With this pen-name -a most astonishing thing had befallen Beatrice -Veronica Law Leslie, for she won a literary success so sudden -and singular that the very management of it required a -statesmanship she never before knew she possessed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A little must here be said of her life that this strange -thing may be understood. She was the only child of a well-known -Oxford don and a somewhat remarkable mystically-minded -mother who died when the girl was fourteen. Her -father, after that loss, “tried life a little, liked it not, and -died” four years later, and Beatrice Veronica who was known -in her family as B. V. then betook herself to the guardianship -of an aunt in Montreal. Here, she also tried life a -little, on the society side, and certainly liked it not. There -was an urge within her that cried aloud for adventure, for -the sight of the dissolving glories of the Orient and contact -with strange lives that called to her dumbly in books. -They peeped and mocked and vanished to their unknown -countries taking her longing with them, and life lay about -her vapid, flat, dominated by an Aunt of Fashion.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She floated on a duck pond and sighed for the ocean. -What is a young woman of spirit, not too beautiful to be -dangerous, of small but sufficient means, to do in such a -case? Beatrice Veronica knew very well.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She waited until she was twenty-one, meanwhile securing -the allegiance of a girl, Sidney Verrier, in like case, an enthusiast -like herself, and on a May morning of dreamy sweetness -they got themselves into a C.P.R. train for Victoria, B. -C., leaving two ill-auguring aunts on the platform, and away -with them on a trip to the Orient <span class='it'>via</span> Japan. They were -under bond to return in a year.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was a wonderful, a heavenly experience—that wander-year -of theirs. The things they saw, the men and women -they met, the marvels which appealed to every sense! But -I must not dwell on these for they are but the pedestal to -the story of V. Lydiat.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A year! Impossible. Four, six, eight years went by and -still unheeded aunts clamoured, and the pavements of -Montreal lacked their footsteps.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And then, in Agra, Sidney Verrier married, and apologetically, -doubtfully, dissolved the fair companionship, and -Beatrice Veronica was left to solitude.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>When the bridal car rolled off to the station and the -honeymoon at Mussoori, she sat down and considered. She -had not realized it until then. The ways of the world were -open, for experience had made them plain. She had acquaintances, -go where she would. There was no material -reason why she should not continue this delightful nomad -existence delightfully. But she was lonely, and suddenly -it became clear to her that she wanted quiet, time, -recollection. She had assisted at a great feast of the senses -and had eaten to satiety.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now—imperatively—something in her heart cried -“Enough.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Afterwards she wondered if that had been the voice of -V. Lydiat crying in the wilderness. The note of preparation.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But where to go? Her aunt was still treading the daily -round of bridge and luncheon parties in Montreal and the -soul of Beatrice Veronica shuddered in the remembrance. -No, no. The bird set free does not re-enter its gilded cage, -however temptingly the little dish of seed is set forth. But -she loved Canada for all that. She remembered, as she and -Sidney Verrier had passed through the glorious giant-land -of the Rockies, how broadly uplifted and vast had been the -heights and spaces, how enormous the glee of the rivers -tumbling from hidden sources, and they called her across -far waters and beneath strange stars.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But could one live in such colossal companionship? Is -it possible to dine and sleep and yawn in the presence of -Gods and Emperors? There was the doubt. And then she -remembered a shining city laving her feet in shining seas, -with quiet gardens where the roses blush and bloom in a -calm so deep that you may count the fall of every petal in -the drowsy summer afternoons. A city of pines and oaks, -of happy homes great and small,—a city above all, bearing -the keys of the Orient at her golden girdle,—for it is but to -step aboard a boat, swift almost as the Magic Carpet, and -you wake one happy morning with all the dear remembered -scents and sights before you once more. And her heart said -“Victoria,”—where Westernmost West leans forward to kiss -Easternmost East across the Pacific.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So she went there—now a woman of twenty-nine, self-possessed, -and capable, and settled herself in a great hostelry -to choose and build her home. Her home, mark you!—not -her prison. It was not to be so large as to hamper flight -when the inevitable call came—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Take down your golden wings now</p> -<p class='line0'>From the hook behind the door,</p> -<p class='line0'>The wind is calling from the East</p> -<p class='line0'>And you must fly once more.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>I wish I might write of the building of Beatrice Veronica’s -home for it developed into one of the immense joys of her -life. But more important things are ahead, so it must -suffice to say that it was long, low and brown with sunny -verandas and windows avid of sunshine, and that all the -plunder of travel, and books, books, books found happy -place in it and grew there as inevitably as leaves on a tree.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But it was while all this was in embryo that the thought of -writing impressed itself on Beatrice Veronica. Partly because -the house adventure was expensive and she wanted a -larger margin, partly because she had seen with delighted -interest and intelligence all the splendid spectacle of men and -cities. Her sound knowledge of history and cultivated taste -in literature should count for pebbles in the writer’s sling -who goes forth to conquer the great Goliath of the public. -She revolved this thought often as she walked by murmurous -seas or nested in a niche of rock to watch the mountains -opposite reflecting every change of sunlight as a soul in -adoration reflects its deity. It really seemed a waste not to -turn all this to some sort of account. And success would be -sweet. But how to begin!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She bought an armful of the magazines which make gay -the streets of Victoria. “I ought to be able to do this kind of -thing,” she reflected. “I have a good vocabulary. Father -always thought about eight thousand words, and that should -go a long way. Besides I’ve seen nearly all there is to see. -Let’s try.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She did, and ended with more respect for the average -author. The eight thousand were as unmanageable as mutineers -or idiots. They marched doggedly in heavy columns, -they right-about-faced and deployed; but there was -no life in them. The veriest man-handler of a grizzly or a -cow-boy could do better. Being a young person of quick -insight and decision she decided to waste no more time in -that direction. She laid away the magazines and decided -to be a spectator with memory and hope for companions. -She burned her manuscripts and turned her attention to -planning her garden.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And it was then that V. Lydiat dawned on the horizon.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Dawned. That is the only word, for it came and the sun -came after. It happened in this way.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>One night, in the usual way Beatrice Veronica fell asleep -and dreamed, but not in the usual way. She was standing -by a temple she remembered very well in Southern India, -the Temple of Govindhar. It stood there, under its palms -wonderful as a giant rock of majolica, coloured lavishly in -the hard fierce sunshine, monstrously sculptured with gods -and goddesses, and mythical creatures of land and water in -all the acts of their supernal life, writhing and tapering upwards -to the great architectural crown supported by tigers -and monkeys which finished the building,—a crown gemmed -with worshipping spirits for jewels, a nightmare conception -of violence in form and colour; the last barbaric touch to -the misbegotten splendour. Vaguely the whole thing reminded -Beatrice Veronica of her literary efforts and she -stood among the palms looking up to the blaze against the -blue and smiling a little.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Suddenly she became aware that a man was standing near -the great gate which no unbeliever’s foot may pass, looking -up also, shading his eyes with his hand from the intolerable -sunlight. His face was sensitive and strong, an unusual -blending, his eyes grey and noticeable. She liked his figure -in the light tropical clothing. He had the air of birth and -breeding. But he seemed wearied, as if the climate had -been too much for him, a look one knows very well where -the Peninsula runs down to Cape Cormorin, and the sun -beats on the head like a mighty man of valour.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Then, as dream-people will, he came towards her as if they -had known each other all their lives, and said, slowly, meditatively:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I have tried and tried. I can’t do it.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With a sense that she knew what he meant though she -could not drag it to the surface, she found herself saying -earnestly:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But have you tried hard enough? <span class='it'>Really</span> tried?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He put his hands to his forehead with a tired gesture:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I’m always trying. But <span class='it'>you</span> could do it.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She said, “Could I?” in great astonishment.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They stood a moment side by side, looking at each other -and then as if from a blurred distance she heard his voice -again.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It was said long ago that if any creatures united their -psychic forces they could conquer the world, though singly -they could do nothing.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Temple and palms dissolved into coloured mist; they -swam away on another wave of dream and vanished. She -floated up to the surface of consciousness again, awake, with -the pale morning gold streaming in through the east window.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She knew she had dreamed, for a sense of something lost -haunted her all day, yet could not remember anything, and -things went on in their usual course.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That evening sitting in a corner of the hotel lounge, with -the babble of music and talk about her, she had the irresistible -impulse to write,—to write something; she did not in the -least know what. It was so urgent that she walked quickly -to the elevator and so to her sitting room, and there she -snatched pen and paper and wrote the beginning of a story -of modern life in India, but strangely influenced by and -centring about the Temple of Govindhar. As she wrote the -name she remembered that she had seen it among the palm -trees in its hideous beauty, and now, like a human personality, -it forced itself upon her and compelled her to be its -mouthpiece.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>How it happened she could not in the least tell. Certainly -she had travelled, kept her ears and eyes open and -learned as much as any woman can do who keeps on the -beaten track in the Orient and consorts with her own kind -in preference to the natives. The two worlds are very far -apart—so far that nothing from below the surface can pass -over the well-defined limits. Moreover she was not a -learned woman,—Indian thought of the mystic order had -never come her way, and Indian history except at the point -where it touches European was a closed book. Therefore -this story astonished her very much. She read it over -breathlessly when it was finished. If she had had that -knowledge when she was there how all the mysteries of the -temple would have leaped to light—what drama, what -strange suspense would have lurked in its monstrous form -and colour! The critic in her brain who, standing aside, -watched the posturing and mouthing of the characters, told -her austerely that the work was good—excellent. But -something behind her brain had told her that already. She -read it over ardently, lingeringly, with an astonishing sense -of ownership yet of doubt. <span class='it'>How</span> had it come? And the -writing? No longer did the eight thousand of her vocabulary -march in dull squadrons, heavy-footed, languid. They -sped, ran, flew, with perfect grace, like the dancers of -princes. They were beautiful exceedingly. They bore the -tale like a garland. She read it again and again, with bewildered -delight.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She tapped it out herself on the keys of her Corona and -sent it to the editor of a very famous magazine, with the -signature of “V. Lydiat.” As I have said, that matter took -long thought, prompted from behind by instincts.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was done and V. Lydiat, a climbing star, shed a faint -beam over the world. For the editor wrote back eagerly. -He knew he had found a new flavour. “Your work impresses -me as extremely original. I am anxious to see more -of it. I need hardly say I accept it for the magazine and I -shall hope to hear from you again before long.” A cheque -followed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>No need to dwell on Beatrice Veronica’s feelings, mixed -beyond disentanglement. She was not astonished that the -work should be recognized as good, but—V. Lydiat! What -had happened to her and how? Strange tales are told to-day -of sudden brain-stimulations and complexes. Was she -the happy victim of such an adventure, and if so, would it -be recurrent? How should she know? What should she -do? She felt herself moving in worlds not realized, and -could not in the least decide the simple question of whether -it was honest to accept commendation for a thing she felt in -her very soul she had not done and could not do.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But then, who? What was V. Lydiat?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He, she, or it, came from starrier spheres than hers. -Wings plumed its shoulders, while hers were merely becomingly -draped in seasonable materials. She knew that the -visitor was a subtler spirit, dwelling beyond the mysteries, -saturated with the colour and desire of dead ages which can -never die—an authentic voice, hailed at once by the few, to -be blown at last on the winds of the soul which, wandering -the world, let fall here and there the seeds of amaranth and -asphodel.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yes—V. Lydiat was entirely beyond her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But you will understand that, though Beatrice Veronica -could not enter into the secret places, it was a most wonderful -thing to be amanuensis and business manager. To her -fell the letters from editors and publishers, the correspondence -which rained in from the ends of the earth, protesting -gratitude, praise, entreaties for counsel in all things from -routes to religions. These latter were the most difficult, -for it would have taken V. Lydiat to answer them adequately. -But Beatrice Veronica did the best she could, and -her life moved onward aureoled and haloed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She learned at last the rules of the game. V. Lydiat’s -ethereal approach could only be secured by the wand of a -fountain pen. She must sit thus armed with a fair sheet -before her and wait, fixing her mind on some idle point of -light or persistent trembling of leaves, and suddenly the -world would pass miraculously from her and she would -awake in another—an amazing world, most beautiful, brimming -with romance, lit by suns of gallant men and moons of -loveliest women. The great jewels of the Orient shed -starry splendours, and ghostly creeping figures pursued them -through jungles and mountain passes. Strange magics -lurked in the dark and drew the soul along the Way of -Wonder.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The strangest experience. It began always in the same -way. The blue Canadian sky, the hyacinth gleam of the sea -through oak and pine dissolved in unrealities of mist, and -sultry Oriental skies, yellow as a lion’s eyes or the brazen -boom of a gong, beat their fierce sunlight downward as from -an inverted bowl. And then—then, she knew V. Lydiat -was at hand. But never with companionship. It was a -despot and entered in, with flags flying, to the annihilation of -Beatrice Veronica. She wrote like a thing driven on a wind, -and woke to find it done. The possession obliterated her, -and when she could collect her routed forces it was gone.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So time went on and V. Lydiat’s fame was established and -Beatrice Veronica wore it as a woman too poor to appear at -Court with fitting magnificence shines in borrowed jewels -and trembles to wear them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>One night in the moonlit warmth, with the vast Princesses -of the Dark hidden in the ambush of breathless trees, she sat -in the high veranda of her little house with the broad vista -through pines to the sea.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was a heavenly night; if the baby waves broke in the -little bay they must break in diamonds,—the wet stones -must shine like crystals.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That day V. Lydiat had transported her to a great and -silent jungle in Cambodia and they went up together through -the crowding whispering trees to the ruined palaces where -once great kings dwelt, and passed together through sounding -halls sculptured with dead myths to the chambers, once -secret, whence queens looked forth languidly from wildly-carved -casements into the wilderness of sweets in the -gardens.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>V. Lydiat had led her to a great tank of crystal water in -the knotted shade, paved with strange stones inlaid with -human figures in wrought metal,—a place where women -with gold-embraced heads once idly bathed their slender -limbs in the warm lymph—a secret place then, but now open -to cruel sunlight and cold incurious stars.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So far she knew it all. She had photographed that tank -with its stony cobras while Sidney Verrier timed the exposure. -But of the story told to-day she knew nothing.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A wonderful story, old as time, new as to-morrow, for the -figures in it were of to-day, people who had gone there, as -she herself had done, only to see, and were captured, subjugated -by the old alarming magic which lurks in the jungle -and behind the carven walls and eyeless windows. A dangerous -place, and she had not known it then—had thought -of it only as a sight to be seen, a memory to be treasured. -But V. Lydiat knew better—knew it was alive and terrible -still.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She leaned her arms on the sill and looked out to the sea -that led towards the hidden Orient and in her heart she -spoke to the strange visitor.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I wish I knew you,” she whispered. “You come and go -and I can’t touch you even while you are within and about -me. You interpret. You make life wonderful, but perhaps -you are more wonderful still. If I could only lay hold of -you, touch you, have one glimpse of you! <span class='it'>What</span> are you? -Where do you come from? Where do you go? I hear. O, -let me see!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was like a prayer, and the more intense because the -dead stillness of the night presented it as its own cry and -entreaty.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Dead silence. Not even the voice of the sea.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She laid her head on her folded arms.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I’ve been obedient. I’ve laid myself down on the -threshold that you might walk over me and take possession. -Have you no reward for me? Are you just some strange -cell of my own brain suddenly awake and working, or are -you some other—what?—but nearer to me than breathing, -as near as my own soul?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The longing grew inarticulate and stronger, like the dumb -yearning instincts which move the world of unspeaking -creatures. It seemed to her that she sent her soul through -the night pleading, pleading. Then very slowly she relaxed -into sleep as she lay in the moonlight—deep, soul-satisfying -sleep. And so dreamed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She stood in the Shalimar Garden of the dead Mogul Empresses -in Kashmir. How well she knew it, how passionately -she loved it! She and Sidney Verrier had moored -their houseboat on the Dal Lake not far away one happy -summer and had wandered almost daily to the Shalimar, -glorying in the beauty of its fountains and rushing cascades, -and the roses—roses everywhere in a most bewildering -sweetness. How often she had gone up the long garden -ways to the foot of the hills that rise into mountains and -catch the snows and stars upon their heights. It was no -wonder she should dream of it. So in her dream she walked -up to the great pavilion supported on noble pillars of black -marble from Pampoor, and the moon swam in a wavering -circle in the water before it, and she held back a moment -to see it break into a thousand reflections, and then became -aware of a man leaning with folded arms by the steps: his -face clear in the moonlight.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Instantly she knew him, as he did her—the man of her -dream of the Temple of Govindhar.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As before he turned and came toward her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I have waited for you by the temple and here and in -many other places. I wait every night. How is it you come -so seldom?” he said. His voice was stronger, his bearing -more alert and eager than at Govindhar. He spoke with a -kind of assurance of welcome which she responded to instantly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I would have come. I didn’t know. How can I tell?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He looked at her smiling.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There is only one way. Why didn’t you learn it in India? -It was all round you and you didn’t even notice. -You don’t know your powers. Listen.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Beatrice Veronica drew towards him, eyes rapt on his -face, scarcely breathing. Yes—in India she had felt there -were mighty stirrings about her, thrills of an unknown -spiritual life, crisping the surface like a breeze, and passing—passing -before ever you could say it was there. But it -did not touch her with so much as an outermost ripple. She -was too ignorant. Now—she could learn.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You see—this is the way of it,” he said, leaning against -the black pillar. “The soul is sheer thought and knowledge, -but, prisoned in the body, it is the slave of the senses -and all its powers are limited by these. And they lead it -into acts which in their consequences are fetters of iron. -Still, at a certain point of attainment one can be freer than -most men believe possible. When this is so, you use the -Eight Means of Mental Concentration and are free. You -step into a new dimension.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Is this true? Do you know it?” she said earnestly. -“Because, if there is any way which can be taken, I have a -quest—something—someone——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She stammered, and could not finish.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I know. Someone you want to find in the dark. Well, -it can be done. You would not believe the possibilities of -that freed state of consciousness. Here, in the Shalimar -you think you see nothing but moonlight and water—nothing -in fact but what your senses tell you. But that is nonsense. -Your eyes are shut. You are asleep in Canada and -yet you see them by the inner light of memory even now -and the help I am giving you! Well—use the Eight Means, -and you will see them waking and as clearly as you do in -sleep. But I, who am instructed, see more. This garden -to me is peopled with those who made it—the dead kings and -queens who rejoiced in its beauty. See—” he laid his hand -on hers and suddenly she saw. Amazing—amazing! They -were alone no longer.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Sitting on the floor of the pavilion, looking down into the -moon-mirroring water was a woman in the ancient dress of -Persia, golden and jewelled,—she flung her head up magnificently -as if at the words, and looked at them, the moon -full in her eyes. The garden was peopled now not only with -roses but white blossoms sending out fierce hot shafts of -perfume. They struck Beatrice Veronica like something -tangible, and half dazed her as she stared at the startling -beauty of the unveiled woman revealed like a flaming jewel -in the black and white glory of the night.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With his hand on hers, she knew without words. Nourmahal -the Empress, ruler of the Emperor who made the -Shalimar for her pleasure, who put India with all its glories -at her feet. Who else should be the soul of the garden?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It seemed to Beatrice Veronica that she had never beheld -beauty before. It was beyond all pictures, all images in its -sultry passionate loveliness,—it was——</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But as she watched spellbound, the man lifted his hand -from hers and the garden was empty of all but moonlight -and roses once more, and he and she alone. She could have -wept for utter loss.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Was it a ghost?” she asked trembling.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No, no,—an essential something that remains in certain -places, not a ghost. There is nothing of what you mean by -that word. Don’t be frightened! You’ll often see them.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She stared at him perplexed, and he added:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You see? One has only to put oneself in the receptive -state and time is no more. One sees—one hears. You -are only a beginner so I cannot show you much. But you -<span class='it'>are</span> a beginner or you would not be here in the Shalimar with -me now. There is a bond between us which goes back—” -He paused, looking keenly at her, and said quickly “Centuries, -and further.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She was stunned, dazed by the revelations. They meant -so much more that it is possible to record. Also the sensation -was beginning in her which we all know before waking. -The dream wavers on its foundation, loosens, becomes misty, -makes ready to disappear. It would be gone—gone before -she could know. She caught his hand as if to steady it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Are you V. Lydiat?” she cried.—“You must be. You -are. You come to me every day—a voice. O let me come -to you like this, and teach me, teach me, that I may know -and see. I am a blind creature in a universe of wonders. -Let me come every night.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>His face was receding, palpitating, collapsing, but his -voice came as if from something beyond it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“That is what you call me. Names are nothing. Yes, -come every night.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was gone. She was in the Shalimar alone, and somewhere -in the distance she heard Sidney Verrier’s voice calling -clear as a bird. Beatrice Veronica woke that morning -with the sun glorying through the eastern arch of her veranda. -She was still dressed. She had slept there all night. -Of the dream she remembered snatches, hints, which left -new hopes and impulses germinating in her soul. The unknown -flowers were sown in spring. They would blossom -in summer in unimaginable beauty.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That was the beginning of a time of strange and enchanting -happiness. Thus one may imagine the joy of a man -born blind who by some miraculous means is made to see, -and wakes in a world of wonders. It is impossible that anyone -should know greater bliss. The very weight of it made -her methodical and practical lest a grain of heavenly gold -should escape her in its transmutation to earthly terms.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The morning was V. Lydiat’s. At ten o’clock she betook -herself to her high veranda, and folding her hands and composing -her mind looked out to sea through the wide way of -pines which terminated in its azure beauty. Then, as has -been told before, it would blow softly away on a dream-wind, -and the story begin.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And at night there was now invariably the meeting. At -first that was always in some place she knew—somewhere -she recognized from memory, haunts of her own with Sidney -Verrier. But one night a new thing happened—she woke -into dream by the Ganges at Cawnpore, at the terrible Massacre -Ghaut, a place she had always avoided because of the -horrible memories of the Indian mutiny which sicken the -soul of every European who stands there.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now she stood at the top of the beautiful broken steps -under the dense shade of the very trees where the mutineers -ambushed, and he was below, beckoning her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Well done, well done!” he said, as she came slowly down -to where holy Ganges lips the lowest step. “This was a -great experiment. You could never have come here alone,—I -could not have brought you until now, and I had to fight -the repugnance in you, but here you are. You see? We -have been putting stepping-stones, you and I, each from our -own side, and now the bridge is made and we hold hands -in the middle. You can come anywhere now. And listen—I -too am learning to go where I have never been. The -world will be open to us soon.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He looked at her with glowing eyes—the eyes of the explorer, -the discoverer, on the edge of triumph.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But why here—in this horrible place?” She shrank a -little even from him as she looked about her. He laughed:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“That is no more now than a last year’s winter storm. -They know. They were not afraid even then. They laugh -now as they go on their way. Be happy, beloved. They -are beyond the mysteries.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Of that dream, she carried back to earth the word “beloved.” -Who had said it, she could not tell, but in the dark—the -warm friendly dark—there was someone who loved -her, whom she loved with a perfect union. Was it—could -it be V. Lydiat? She did not know. Also she remembered -that she had dreamed the Massacre Ghaut at Cawnpore, and -took pains to search for pictures and stories of the place -to verify her dream. Yes—it was true. Things were becoming -clearer.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Also, her power in writing increased very noticeably about -this time. V. Lydiat was recognized as holding a unique -place amongst writers of the Orient. On the one side were -the scholars, the learned men who wrote in terms of ancient -Oriental thought, terms no ordinary reader could understand, -and on the other, the writers of the many-faceted -surface, the adventurers, toying with the titillating life of -zenana and veiled dangerous love-affairs,—a tissue of -coloured crime. V. Lydiat recorded all, and with a method -of his own which approached perfect loveliness in word and -phrase. The faiths of the East were his,—in India and -China alike his soul sheltered under the Divine Wings, at -home in strange heavens, and hells which one day would -blossom into heavens. As he and Beatrice Veronica had -posed stepping-stones until they met in the middle, so he -built a splendid bridge across the wide seas of misunderstanding -between east and west, and many souls passed -across it going and coming and were glad.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I’m only a pioneer,” he said to Beatrice Veronica one -day (she could dream the day as well as the night) sitting -in the gardens of the Taj. “You too. It will be done much -better soon. See how we are out-growing our limitations -and feeling out after the wonders of the sub-conscious -self, the essential that hands on the torch when we die. -Die? No, I hate that word. Let’s say, climb a step higher -on the ladder of existence. Every inch gives us a wider -view of the country. You see?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She liked that “You see?” which came so often. It was -so eager—so fraternal in a way. Yes, they were good comrades, -she and V. Lydiat.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Do you know I write for you?” she ventured to ask. -“I have often wondered if you speak as unconsciously as I -write.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No, no. I know. I always know. Longer ago than -you would believe you used to work for me. We are in the -same whirl-pool, you and I. Our atoms must always be -whirled together again. You can’t escape me, Beatrice -Veronica.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Do you think I want to?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But in daily life she clung to her secret like grim death. -She would not have been burdened with V. Lydiat’s laurels -for the world. The dishonesty of it! And yet one could -never explain. Hopeless! Who would believe? And -apart from that, she had a kind of growing certainty that -V. Lydiat would enter upon his own one day. Not that she -remembered him as any more than a vague dream influence; -she did not, but yet the realization of a Presence was growing, -and she herself developing daily.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There is not much space here to tell the wondrous sights -she saw with V. Lydiat, and holding by his hand. That -would be a book in itself—and a beautiful one. And -though she could only remember them in drifts like a waft -of far-off music on a breeze, it was incomparable food for -the sub-conscious self, and strengthened every latent faculty -of memory and experience. Beatrice Veronica promised -to be a very remarkable woman if some day the inner -and outer faculties should unite.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But what was to be the solvent? That, this story can -only indicate faintly for the end is not yet.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She went out a little less into her small world of daily life—not -shunning it certainly, but her inner life was so -crowded, so blissful that the outer seemed insipid enough. -Why figure at teas and bridge parties, and struggle with the -boredom of mah jong when the veranda was waiting with the -green way before it that led to the silence of the sea, and -the lover beyond? For it had come to that—the lover. All -joy summed up in that word, joy unmeasurable as the oceans -of sunlight—a perfect union. She walked as one carefully -bearing a brimmed cup,—not a drop, not a drop must spill,—so -she carried herself a little stiffly as it might seem to the -outer world which could not guess the reason.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>People liked her—but she moved on her own orbit, and it -only intersected theirs at certain well-defined points. Her -soft abstracted air won but eluded;—it put an atmosphere -of strangeness about her, of thoughts she could not share -with anyone.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She must have rather a lonely life of it!” they said. -But she never had.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>One day came a letter from Sidney Verrier, now Sidney -Mourilyan, from her husband’s coffee plantation in the -Shevaroy Hills in southern India. She wrote from the settlement -of Yercaud— “Not a town,” she wrote, “but dear -little scattered houses in the trees. We have even a club, -think of it!—after the wilds where you and I have been!—and -there are pleasant people, and Tony expects to do well -with coffee here. I wish half the day that you could come. -You would like it, B. V.— You would like it! And you -would like my boy—two years old now, and a sheer delight. -Not to mention my garden. The growth here! The heliotropes -are almost trees. The jasmines have giant stars. -The house is stormed with flowers—almost too sweet. -Couldn’t you come? Don’t you hear the east calling? At -all events you hear me calling, for I want you. And you -must be having very idle lazy days, for I remember I never -could imagine what you would find to do if you stopped -travelling. Your whole soul was in that. It’s a cold country -you’re in—frigid pines, and stark mountains and icy -seas. Do come out into the sunshine again.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She laid down the letter there and looked at the beloved -pines almost glittering in the sunshine as it slid off their -smooth needles. And idle?—her life, her wonderful secret -life! Little indeed did Sidney know if she could write like -that. She took up the letter again, smiling.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And listen, B. V.—there’s a man going round by Japan -to Canada, a man called Martin Welland. I should like you -to know him for two reasons. First, he can tell you all -about this place. Second, I think he is interesting. If you -don’t find him so, shunt him. My love, my dear B. V., and -do come. Think of all you might do with this as a starting -point.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There was more, but that is the essential. You may -think at this point that you know exactly how this story -must inevitably end. But no.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was about four months after this that Beatrice Veronica -was rung up on the telephone in her veranda as she sat -reading. The imperative interruption annoyed her;—she -put down her book. A man’s voice.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Miss Leslie? I think your friend Mrs. Mourilyan told -you I was coming to Victoria. My name is Welland.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Polite assurances from the veranda.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I am staying at the Empress. May I come out and -see you this afternoon? I have a small parcel for you from -Mrs. Mourilyan.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So it was settled, and with her Chinese servant she made -the little black oak table beautiful with silver and long-stemmed -flowers in beautiful old English glass bowls. If -he went back to Yercaud he should at least tell Sidney that -her home in “that cold country” was desirable.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He came at four and she could hear his voice in the little -hall as Wing admitted him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She liked it. The words were clear, well-cut, neither -blurred nor bungled. Then he came in. A tall man, broad-shouldered, -with grey eyes and hair that sprang strongly -from a broad forehead, clean-shaven, a sensitive mouth, possibly -thirty-eight, or so. All these things flashed together -in an impression of something to be liked and trusted. On -his side he saw a young woman in a blue-grey gown with -hazel eyes and hair to match—a harmony of delicate browns -enhancing an almond-pale face with faintly coloured lips -and a look of fragility which belied the nervous strength beneath.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The parcel was given and received; a chain of Indian -moonstones in silver, very lovely in its shifting lights, and -then came news, much news, of the home at Yercaud.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I heard of you so much there that you are no stranger -to me,” he said, watching with curious interest while she -filled the Chinese cups of pink and jade porcelain with jasmine -tea from a hidden valley in Anhui. It fascinated him—the -white hands flitting like little quick birds on their -quick errands, the girl, so calm and self-possessed, mistress -of herself and her house. Many years of wandering had -opened his heart to the feminine charm of it all, the quiet, -the rose-leaf scent in the air, the things which group by instinct -about a refined woman.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You have a delightful home!” he said at last, rather -abruptly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes— When you return do try to convince Mrs. -Mourilyan that I don’t live in a hut on an iceberg. You -agree with me, I am sure, that only Kashmir and perhaps -one or two other places can be more beautiful than this.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes. I fully agree. Yet it misses something which -permeates India in places far less beautiful. It lacks atmosphere. -Just as the fallen leaves of a forest make up a -rich soil in which all growth is luxuriant, so the dead ancientry -of India makes earth and air rich with memory and -tradition—and more. You can’t get it in these new countries.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I know,” she said eagerly. “Here it’s just a beautiful -child with all her complexities before her. It rests one, -you know. I felt it an amazing rest when I came here.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I can understand that. And they tell me the climate -is delightful. I wish I could stay here. I may come back -some day. But I must return to India in four months.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You have work?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes and no. I have collected an immense quantity of -notes for several books, but—now you will laugh!—I shall -never write them.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But why—why? I know there’s an immense opening -for true books about the Orient.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I think so too. But you allow it’s a drawback that I -am entirely devoid of the writing gift. I have my knowledge. -I have the thing flame-clear in my mind. But let -me put it on paper and it evaporates. Dull as ditchwater! -You see?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That last little phrase sent a blush flying up her cheek. -It recalled many things.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I see. But couldn’t you put it in skilful hands?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He laid down his cup and turned suddenly on her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Could <span class='it'>you</span> do it?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I? I wish I could, but I am doing work at present——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Literary?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Of a sort. Secretarial. I write from dictation.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“May I ask what sort of things?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With a curious reluctance she answered.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Indian,” and said no more.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He seemed to meditate a moment on that; then said -slowly:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It appears you have experience of the very things that -interest me. Tell me—for I have been so long in the -wilds— Is there any writer nowadays taking the place -with regard to things Indian that Lafcadio Hearn did with -things Japanese? A man who gets at the soul of it as well -as the beautiful surface?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With her eyes on the ground and a sense of something -startling in the air, she answered with a question.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Have you ever heard of V. Lydiat’s books?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There was a puzzled furrow between his eyebrows.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Not that I know of. Up in Kulu and beyond, the new -books don’t penetrate. A man or a woman?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“People are not certain. The initial might mean either. -But the critics all say a man. The last is called the ‘The -Unstruck Music,’ the one before ‘The Dream of Stars.’ -The first, ‘The Ninefold Flower.’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Beautiful names,” he said. “Can I get them here?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I can lend them to you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They talked long after that, in a curiously intimate way -that gave her secret but intense happiness. It was almost -in fear that she asked when he was going on and where.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>When he went off he carried the three books under his -arm.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I shall read ‘The Ninefold Flower,’ first. It interests -me to see how a writer’s mind develops.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That night she had no dream and next day she tried even -more eagerly than usual to get in touch with V. Lydiat, -but in vain. The oracle was dumb. It frightened her, for -the whole thing was so strange that she had never felt sure -it might not vanish as suddenly as it came. She sat patiently -all that morning, hoping and sorely disturbed, but the -Pacific hung a relentless azure curtain before her fairyland -and the pines dreamed their own sunshine-fragrance and -made no way for palms.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At one o’clock the telephone rang sharply,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Welland speaking. May I come and see you this afternoon?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was impossible for she had an engagement, but she -named the evening at eight. He caught at it—his voice was -evidence of that eagerness.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He came a minute or two before the time, and a book was -in his hand. She knew the cover with a drift of stars across -it before he spoke.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It broke out the moment he was in the room.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A most amazing thing. I hardly know how to tell you. -You’ll think I’m mad. It’s my book—<span class='it'>mine</span>, yet I never -wrote it.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They stared at each other in a kind of consternation and -the little colour in her face fell away and left her lily-pale. -She could feel but not control the trembling of her hands.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You mean——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I mean—there are my notes one after another, but -expressed in a way I never could hope for, exquisitely expressed. -But it’s mine all the same. A cruel, enchanting -robbery! You don’t believe me. How could you? But -I can prove it. See here.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With passionate haste he pulled a roll of paper from his -pocket, and pushed the typed sheets before her. The first -story in “The Ninefold Flower,” was called “The Lady of -Beauty.” The notes began, “The Queen of Beauty,” and -went on <span class='it'>seriatim</span> with the scaffolding of the story.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The way it’s done here, in this book, is the very way I -used to see it in my dreams, but it was utterly beyond me. -For God’s sake, tell me what you think.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She laid it down.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Of course it’s yours. No doubt of that. But his too. -You blocked out the marble. He made the statue. The -very judgment of Solomon could not decide between you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“That’s true,” he said hopelessly. “But the mystery of -it. The appalling hopeless mystery. No eye but mine has -ever seen that paper till now.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Silence. A grey moth flew in from the garden and circled -about the lamp. The little flutter of its wings was the -only sound. Then in a shaken voice very unlike its usual -sedate sweetness, she asked.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Welland, do you ever dream?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Awake? Constantly.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Asleep?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She saw caution steal into his frank eyes and drop a -curtain before them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Why do you ask? Everyone dreams.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She gathered up all her courage for the next question.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Were you ever in the Shalimar?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Certainly. Does anyone ever go to Kashmir and miss -it?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He was fencing, that was palpable. It gave her hope for -a golden gleam through her fear. She clasped her shaking -hands tightly in each other.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I have the strangest dreams. I can only bring back -snatches. Yet I know there is a wonderful connected story -behind them. I dreamt the Shalimar not long ago,—I -brought back one image. A woman in an old Persian dress -sitting by the black Pampoor pillars and looking down into -the water where the moon dipped and swam all gold.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes, yes, go on!” he breathed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There were flowers—white flowers. I never saw them -there in the daylight.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Unbearably sweet,” he interjected. “The scent is like -the thrust of a lance. I know, I know. But there was another -woman. I can’t remember her face.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“How did she stand?” asked Beatrice Veronica.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Near me—but she could see nothing. The day still -blinded her, until——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Until you laid your hand on hers. Then she saw.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Another long silence. Only the beating of the moth’s -wings. He leaned forward from his chair and laid his hands -on the clasp of hers. Their eyes met, absorbing each other; -the way for the electric current was clear.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I remember now,” he said, very softly. “It was you. -It was you at the Temple of Govindhar. At the Massacre -Ghaut of Cawnpore. Ah, I dragged you there against your -will to show I was the stronger. It is you—always you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>What was she to say? With his hands on hers it was a -union of strength which put the past before both like an -open book. She remembered all the dreams now. Impossible -to tell them here—they were so many, like and unlike, -shaken shifting jewels in a kaleidoscope held in some unseen -hand. But jewels. They sat a long time in this way, rapt -in wordless memories, their eyes absorbing each other—the -strangest reunion. When speech came it brought rapture -which needed little explanation. They bathed in wonder as -in clear water, they flung the sparkle of it over their heads -and glittered to each other in its radiance. When had such -a miracle been wrought for any two people in all the world? -The dreams of the visionary were actual for them and -heaven and earth instinct with miracle.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“When we are married—when we pass our lives utterly -together the bond will be stronger,” he said, kissing her hand -passionately two hours later. “We shall be awake with reason -and intellect as well as vision to help our work, we shall -do such things as the world has never dreamed, prove that -miracle is the daily bread of those who know. Two halves -of a perfect whole made one forever and ever. You see?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He looked at her a moment with shining eyes and added, -“The wise will come to us for wisdom, the poets for beauty, -and we shall make our meeting-places the shrines of a new -worship.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Beatrice Veronica agreed with every pulse of her blood. -The Great Adventure, and together!—what bliss could equal -that marvel?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They were together perpetually, and surely human happiness -was never greater than that of these two adventurers -with the blue capes of Wonderland in sight at last over -leagues of perilous seas. In another image, their caravan -halted outside the gates of Paradise, and in a short few -weeks those gates would swing open for them and, closing, -shut out Fate.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But she did not dream of Martin Welland now, nor he -of her. The discovery and all it involved was so thrilling -that it brought every emotion to the surface as blood flushes -the face when the heart beats violently. The inner centres -were depleted.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They were married and Paradise was at hand, but for a -while the happy business of settling their life engrossed -them. It would be better to live in Canada and make long -delightful visits to the Orient to refill the cisterns of marvel, -they thought. A room for mutual work must be plotted in -the bungalow; then there was the anxious question of a -southern aspect. Then it was built, and it became a debatable -decision whether some of the pines must fall to enlarge -the vista to the sea. Friends rallied about her on the news -of the marriage, and rejoiced to see the irradiation of Beatrice -Veronica’s pale face. Then they must be entertained.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Then the endless joyful discussions as to whether the author -should still be V. Lydiat or whether collaboration -should be admitted. These things and many more filled the -happy world they dwelt in.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Can the end be foreseen? They never foresaw it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The hungry claim of human bliss fixed its roots in the -inner soil where the Rosa Mystica had blossomed, and exhausted -it for all else. That, at least, is the way in which -one endeavours to state the mysterious enervation of the sub-conscious -self which had built the stepping-stones between -them to the meeting-point.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She went hopefully to her table when they had settled -down, and he sat beside her doing his utmost to force the -impulse across inches which had made nothing of oceans. -It was dead. He could think of nothing but the sweet mist -of brown tendrils in the nape of her neck, the pure line from -ear to chin, the delights of the day to be. She sat with the -poor remnant of his notes before her—for nearly all had -been exhausted in the three books—and tried to shape them -into V. Lydiat’s clear and sensitive beauty of words. It -could not be done. Her eight thousand words marched and -deployed heavy-footed as before. They were as unmanageable -as mutineers or idiots. There was no life in them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So it all descended to calmer levels. They slept in each -other’s arms, but they never dreamed of each other now. -They had really been nearer in their ghostly meeting by the -Taj Mahal or in the evil splendours of Govindhar—far -nearer, when she wrote and could not cease for joy, than -when Martin Welland sat beside her and struggled to find -what had flashed like light in the old days. They had to -face it at last—V. Lydiat was dead.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It troubled them much for a while, but troubled the world -more. The publishers were besieged with questions and -entreaties. Finally those also slackened and died off.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>V. Lydiat was buried.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They thought that perhaps if they returned to India the -dead fire would re-kindle under that ardent sun. But no.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>One day, at Benares, standing near the great Monkey -Temple of Durga, Martin stopped suddenly, and a light -came into his eyes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“B. V. I’ve just remembered that one of the wisest of -the pandits lives near here—a wonderful old fellow called -Jadrup Gosein. Let’s go and state the case to him. The -wisest man I know.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They went, Beatrice Veronica ashamed to feel a little uprush -of regret at the sacrifice of a part of the wonderful day. -Martin knew so much. It was heavenly to go to these -places with him, and have them illumined by his research. -But they went to the pandit.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The holy man was seated under the shadow of a great -image of Ganesha the Elephant-Headed One, the Giver of -Counsel, and when they sat themselves before him at a measured -distance the case was stated.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There was a long pause—a deep silence filled with hot -sunshine smelling of marigolds, and the patter of bare feet -on sun-baked floors, as curious quick eyes watched the conclave -from afar.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Jadrup Gosein meditated deeply, then raised his serene -dark face upon them with the dim look that peers from the -very recesses of being. His words, incomprehensible to Beatrice -Veronica, had the hollow resonance of a bell, near at -hand but softened.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There was a man long since,” he began, “to whom the -high Gods offered in reward of merit, a rose-tree—very small -and weak,—a suckling, as it were, among trees, with feeble -fibrous root, accessible to all the dangers of drought and -sun, and as he stretched his hand doubting, they offered him -for choice a rose from the trees of Paradise, crimson and -perfumed, its hidden bosom pearled with dew and wafting -divine odours. And they said ‘Choose.’ So he said within -his soul, ‘The tree may die—who knows the management -of its frail roots? But the rose is here, sweeter than sweet, -immortal since it grew in Paradise! I choose the rose.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And they put it in his hand. And the wise Elephant-Headed -One said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘O fool! What is a rose compared to a rose-tree that -bears myriads of roses? Also the rose dies in the heat of -human hands. The tree lives; a gathered rose is dead.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My children, you have chosen the rose. Be content. -Yet in another life remember and cling to that which unsevered -from the parent tree sends roots into the Now, the -Then, and the Future, and blossoms immortally.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So he dismissed them kindly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He means,” said Martin with troubled brow, “that ordinary -household happiness shuts a man in from the stars. -Do you remember the flute of Pan, B. V.? He tore the -reed from the river and massacred it as a reed to make it a -music-bearer for the Gods.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“The true Gods sigh for the cost and pain,</p> -<p class='line0'>For the reed that grows never more again</p> -<p class='line0'>As a reed with the reeds in the river.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“But we are so happy!” she whispered, clinging against -him to feel the warmth of his love. “The outer spaces are -cold, cold. I don’t regret V. Lydiat. I have you. The -reeds were happier in the river.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Martin Welland sighed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You had both,” he said. “You have only me now.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But that regret also slipped away. They forgot. It all -faded into the light of common day and they were extremely -happy.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The two could never account for the way in which they -had come together in that dream-land of theirs. They had -lost the clue of the mystery once and for all.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Jadrup Gosein could have told them, but it never occurred -to them to ask him. There are however many lives and the -Gods have a long patience.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.2em;'>THE SEA OF LILIES</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:.8em;'>A STORY OF CHINA</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch2'>THE SEA OF LILIES<br/> <br/> <span style='font-size:smaller'>A STORY OF CHINA</span></h1></div> - -<p class='pindent'>I had come down from the mountain fastnesses of my -home in Kashmir on pilgrimage to a certain island off the -coast of China. A long, long pilgrimage, but necessary; for, -with a Buddhist monk attached to the monastery of Kan-lu-ssu -in the hills of North China, I was to collect certain information -from the libraries and scholars of two famous -monasteries on the island of Puto. I, Lancelot Dunbar, am -known to the monks of the northern monastery of Kan-lu-ssu -by the friendly title of “Brother of the Pen,” and it is my -delightful lot to labour abundantly among the strange and -wonderful stores of ancient Buddhist and historic knowledge -contained in some of the many monastic libraries scattered -up and down India, China and Ceylon. It follows that my -wife and I own two homes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>One is a little deserted monastery in the Western Hills, in -China, known as “First Gate of Heaven,” and so beautiful -that the name might have grown about it like the moss on -its tiled roofs. Following the bigger monasteries, it has its -quiet courtyard, its lotus-pool and the peaked roofs with -their outward, upturned sweep. The pines crowd upon us, -and the cloud-dragons of rain and wind play in their uncouth -sport among the peaks and fill our streams with singing, -glittering water.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Our other home is a red-pine hut near the Liderwat in -Kashmir. The beauty of it, the warm homeliness set amid -the cold magnificence of the hills and immeasurable forests, -no tongue can tell. The hut is very large and low, divided -into our own rooms and the guest-rooms, with hospitable -fireplaces for fragrant pine-logs and floors strewn with rugs -brought by yak and pony down the wild tracks from Yarkand -and Leh. Beautiful rooms, as I think—the windows -looking out into the pines and the endless ways that lead to -romance and vision.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Which home is the more beautiful I cannot say. We have -never known, and our friends give no help; for some choose -one and some the other. One day I shall write of our life in -Kashmir, the clean, beautiful enchantment of it, the journeyings -into the mountains—but to-day I must recall myself -to the pilgrimage to Puto.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It is an island off the coast of China, as I said before, most -holy to the Buddhists of the Far East, dear to all who know -it in its beauty and religious peace and the lovely legends -that cling about it, a place of purification of the heart and -of a serenity that the true pilgrim may hope to carry away -with him as the crowning of his toil and prayer. It is one -of the Chusan Archipelago and is separated from the large -island of Chusan by a stretch of water known as the “Sea of -Lilies.” And it is not very far distant from the hybrid dissipations -of Shanghai and the swarming streets of Ningpo -and can be reached from either. Yet it is as far removed -from their hard realities as if it were built on floating clouds -and lit by other dawns than ours.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Shanghai concerns itself, I am told, with that ancient and -universally respected Trinity of the World, the Flesh, and -the Devil. I know little of it myself and accept the testimony -of friends, and especially of one who knew it well. -“I just think,” he said with conviction, “that if nothing happens -to Shanghai, Sodom and Gomorrah were very unfairly -dealt with.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So I met my friend Shan Tao in Ningpo, and we set sail -together. The island of Puto, at all events, concerns itself -with a very different Trinity from that of Shanghai. For -the deity of Puto is the Supreme, enthroned in eternal light, -and on his right hand stands Wisdom and on his left, Love. -The patron saint of this island is Kwan-yin (the Kwannon -of Japan), the incarnation of divine love and pity, she who -has refused to enter paradise, so that, remaining on this -sad earth, she may be attentive to the tears and prayers of -humanity and depart from it only when the Starry Gates -have closed behind the last sinner and sorrow and sighing -have fled away like clouds melting into the golden calms of -sunset. Yet when I say “she,” I limit the power of this -mighty <span class='it'>Bodhisattva</span>, or <span class='it'>Pusa</span>, as Buddhas-to-be are called -in India and China. For that pure essence is far above all -limitations of sex and, uniting in itself the perfection of both, -may be manifested as either, according to need and opportunity. -Be that as it may, Puto is the holiest, most immediate -home of Kwan-yin, and her influence spreads far beyond its -shores and makes the very sea that surrounds it sacred. -Therefore it is to this day the Sea of Lilies.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For when the Dwarf-men, the Japanese, came storming -down on the island from Hangchow long ago and carried -off a part of the sacred relics, they woke in the dawn to -find their ship moving slower and slower and finally rocking -like a ship asleep in what seemed a vast meadow of lilies. -Thick as snow about them lay the ivory chalices with golden -stamens; thick as the coiling of snakes innumerable were -the long piped and knotted stems, with the great prone -leaves. Neither oar nor sail could move the ship; for the -mysterious lilies, white and silent, that had sprung up from -the depths in a night held it as if with chains. And then -comprehension entered the hearts of the Dwarfs, and, taking -hurried counsel, they put the ship about and headed for -the sacred island once more. As they did so, a soft wind -like the waft of a passing garment breathed on the surface -of the sea, the ivory chalices closed and the crystal lymph -flowed over them, and, where the leagues of blossom had -spread, were now only the foam-flowers of the waste ocean. -So the treasures were restored to Puto, and, when the story -was told to the monks, they adored the Heavenly Lady who -guards her own.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Lest it be said that the burdened consciences of the -Dwarfs misled them into a dream, let the story be told of -Wang Kuei, a haughty official who was sent on his Emperor’s -behalf to do reverence at the shrines of Puto and did it -grudgingly and with a pride that ill became him. So, when -his ship set sail from the island and he sat in glory on deck, -glad at heart that his service was over, suddenly her swift -course was stayed. Behold, in the moonlight, the meadows -of ocean had bloomed into innumerable lilies, and there was -no sea-track between them, no glimmer of water in the interstices -of the paving-leaves, and the ship was a prisoner of -beauty! Then the story of the Dwarfs rushed into his soul. -In haste he prostrated himself on the deck with his face toward -the island and prayed for pardon as he had never yet -prayed, and the Heavenly Lady heard him and the lilies -were resumed into her pure being. The man of pride returned -to Puto and, doing homage of the humblest, went -back in security to his Emperor.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But who can tell the beauty of Puto, looking forth on its -little sisters of the archipelago with the serenity of an elder -who has attained? We put up in one of the cells allotted -to pilgrims in a monastery among the hills overlooking the -Sea of Lilies. Surely, I think, a lovelier place could not be. -The little ways wind about the island, past great rocks sculptured -with holy figures and groves of trees that climb the -hills to the tiled roofs of the many temples and monasteries. -And wild and sweet on the hills grows the gardenia, whence -the island has its name of “White Flower.” The sunny -sweetness of its perfume recalled to me the far-away, wild -daphne bushes of Mount Abu in Rajputana, near the marvellous -white temples of Dilwara, temples of another, yet -not unallied, faith. It is easy to tell when the gods go by—it -can never be common air again, but sweet, sweet unutterably.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>All day I trod the bays on sand fine as powdered gold or -wandered among the flowers, taking notes for my book at -the various temples and talking with the monks and such -hermits as are not under the vow of silence. When they -found I was at work for Kan-lu-ssu in the hills, they opened -their hearts and told me many things.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I suppose it is difficult for the western mind to comprehend -the impulses that send a man to dwell in the solitudes -of Puto, girdled with its miraculous sea, there to let the years -slip from him like a vesture, unheeded, unregretted—but to -me it is easy. Let me tell the story of one of these monks, -gathered from his own lips and told where a ravine breaks -down to the sands of a little bay; where the small waves fall -in a lulling monotone, a fitting burden to quiet words softly -spoken as the shadows lengthened to the hour of rest. He -was named in religion “High Illumination.” His name in -the world I cannot tell.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>His father had been a farmer in Anhui, a well-to-do man -for his class. There were two sons, and my friend was the -younger. His father, of whom he spoke with deep reverence, -had the utmost confidence in the elder brother. In dying, -he expressed only the desire that the elder brother would -make a just division with the younger of all the possessions -he was leaving, and so departed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And I was content,” said High Illumination, “knowing -my father’s wisdom and believing that his wish, uttered in -the presence of us both, would be as binding upon my honoured -brother as an imperial command. Therefore, when all -observances of departure had been completed and the proper -time came, I expected my share in peace, and the more so -since my good father had provided for my marriage with -a beautiful maiden, the daughter of a lifelong friend. But -that was not to be.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And still my brother said nothing; all the duties of the -seasons proceeded and I worked and helped him, expecting -daily that he would speak.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then at last in great astonishment I ventured this: -‘Honoured Elder Brother, the will of our just father is still -unfulfilled. Should we not proceed in this matter?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And he, with anger and a reddened face: ‘What is this -discontent? Do you not share the land where you labour -upon it? What more would you have?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So, very temperately and courteously, I said: ‘Honoured -Elder Brother, I work but as a hired man who has no hire. -I have not so much as a <span class='it'>cash</span> in my pocket to buy me the -least of pleasures or needs. I have but my food, and that, -as I think, my elder sister [the brother’s wife] grudges me. -Such certainly was not the intention of our just father.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then, his face distorted with rage, he replied, ‘Have your -way, and if it bring bitterness and disturbance of spirit, then -thank yourself for your greed!’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>High Illumination paused a moment as if in memory.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Greed!” I said indignantly. “My friend, you were -wronged and cruelly. You could in a court of law have -compelled him to do you justice.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yet he was right: for me it was greed,” said High Illumination, -with a smile of quiet humour. “I had thought -of it night and day, till it had soured my soul. But the next -day at dawn my brother called to me with anger in his voice -and said: ‘The division is now made. Come and see.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So we passed along through the dewy dawn-gold in silence, -past his fields of budding rice and millet prosperously -green, and at last we came to a great stretch of pebbles and -water-springs where nothing would grow, no, not even a -blade of grass. The place had come to my father from -many ancestors, and none could either use or sell its barrenness.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And there it lay, grey and hard in the morning gold, and -my brother, pointing, said: ‘Take it; the division is made. -And when you store your plentiful rice, thank my generosity.’ -And, turning, he left me and went back to his prosperity, -laughing.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It was a devil’s deed,” I said. “Surely he laid up for -himself a black <span class='it'>karma</span> in so doing.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>High Illumination shook his head slowly. “Who can -judge the karma of another? Daily did I pray that my -brother’s feet might be set in the way of peace, and I had -assurance that thus and no otherwise it should be. But -hear the story and its loveliness.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So I sat nearly all day, staring at the pebbles. There -was not even a yard of the ground that spade and hoe could -conquer, and I knew myself vanquished. Then in the evening -I rose and went to a neighbour and said, ‘I beseech you -to find me work; for I must eat or die.’ He gave me work -and the wage was my food only; for he was bone-poor. So -I lived for two years, and, if I passed my brother, he would -jeer at my rags and leanness.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Now, as I went by my desolate heritage one day, I -saw that between the pebbles were pushing little bright -green shoots, strong and hardy, thrusting the small stones -aside to make room for their impatience. The tender -greenness pleased me. It was like warmth and sunshine to -see the life of it, and I wondered what manner of growth -could find food among the stones. For a while I could not -go that way, but, when I went again, behold a thing most -beautiful, for all the plants were covered with buds like -pearls!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My brother, hear a marvel. One day, before ever I came -in sight of it, a sweet perfume, warm with the sun, exhaling -the very breath of paradise, surrounded me. When I approached, -the desert had blossomed abundantly. I could -not see the stones; they were covered with lilies, white lilies, -each with a gold cup, set in ivory, to hold the incense-offering -to the sun. What could I say, what think in beholding this -miracle of loveliness? I sat beside them to watch what they -would do, and a light breeze moved the flowers like bells -upon the stems, and there was a going in the leaves of them -as though the hem of an unseen garment trailed among them. -And they were mine.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“They had never grown there before?” I asked.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No man of those parts had seen the like; nor I myself. -Every day, when my work was done, I went to look at them -and sat to see their beauty of ivory and gold. And once, as -I sat, the rich official, Chung Ching-yu, rode by. Pausing -in astonishment, he bought a handful of the flowers, giving -me the first money I had seen for a year, and he told me to -gather the bulbs in due season and receive from him in return -their weight in silver. And what he said ran on to other -rich men and to men not rich, in the city of Ningpo, and they -came bidding against one another for the bulbs to sell to -the great and to send in ships to strange countries, until I -who had been poor scarce knew how to store my riches. -And I saw what my lilies loved and put for them more stones -and water, and the next year they were a wilderness of -sweets, where all the bees of the world came to gather -nectar.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But I knew indeed whence they came, since such beauty -could not be of earth, and I withdrew myself to a lonely -place and addressed my prayer to Kwan-yin, who had thus -blessed my poverty, and I said: ‘O Adorable, whose ears -are open ever to the cry of the oppressed, whose beautiful -eyes are pitiful to sorrow, I bless thee for this compassion. -And because I dread the love of riches, and the flowers and -not money, are to me my soul, give me grace so to receive -the mercy of thy gift that it may befit thy greatness and my -littleness.’ Even as I said the words, a thought came to me, -and I went to find my brother, whom I had not seen for -long days.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Now, when he saw me come, his face darkened with rage, -and he said: ‘Are you come to taunt me because of my -folly, in that I gave the best of all the land to your idleness, -or to thank me for the gold it has heaped upon you? Speak -out; for the lucky man may speak.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then, standing at the door, I said this: ‘Elder Brother, -your action was unjust, and certainly the Divine does not -sleep, but awaits its hour in peace. As for me, the Spirit of -Compassion has seen my poverty and had pity upon me, and -now I will tell you my heart. Two nights ago as I lay and -slept, it seemed to me that the moonlit air grew sweet with a -sweetness more than all my lilies—nay, than all the flowers -of earth—and I knew that the gates of paradise were opened -and that the immortal flowers exhaled their souls, and that -to breathe them was purification. Then, far off on a cloud -so white that it resembled the mystic petals of the lotus, -stood a lady with veiled face, and in one hand a chalice and -in the other a willow spray, and even through the veil her -beauty rayed as the moon behind a fleece of cloud. My -Brother, need I say her name?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And, as I spoke, the hard face softened; for who is there -that knows not the Pity of the Lord? I continued: ‘In a -voice sweeter than sleep, she augustly addressed me, saying: -‘The Divine on its hidden throne knows no repose while the -sigh of the oppressed is heard before it. And because this -injustice was borne with patience, the armies of the flowers -of paradise were marshaled. Say, now, whether justice was -done.’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And I said, ‘It was done.’ And, as a cloud slips off the -moon as she glides upward to the zenith, so fell the veil—but -what I saw I may not tell, nor could, for I weep in remembering -that Beauty.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>His voice faltered even in recollection; nor could I speak -myself. We sat in silence awhile, looking over the Sea of -Lilies with the twilight settling softly upon it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Then he resumed: “So I said: ‘Elder Brother, having -seen this, I have all riches and need no more. Take the -land; for I depart into the life of peace, where is no need of -gold or gain, having beheld the ineffable Treasure of the -Nirvana and the very Soul of Quiet.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And his eyes kindling, he said, ‘What, is it mine—all -mine?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Yours. Yet remember that these lilies are of heaven. -It is in my mind that these will have not only pure water and -clean rock but also a clean heart to tend them.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then, very doubtfully, he took my hand and held it -awhile in his and, dropping it at last, turned, weeping, away. -Thus we parted, and I came to Puto.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And you never saw him again?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>High Illumination smiled, looking to where the star of -evening blossomed above us. “Four years passed,” he replied. -“Then, among the pilgrims who came to the holy -shrines, I saw my brother, and yet could scarcely think it -he, so reverently and with such humility he knelt where the -Divine Lady waits in gold at the left side of the Infinite One.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Need I recount the rest, O Brother of the Pen? He -came to my cell and, seated at my feet, he told me all. -When I was gone, the lilies withered, and at first he thought -he lacked my skill and spent much money on digging and -trenching, but still the lilies died, and at last he saw that the -air that clung about his garments withered them. So, as he -sat musing on this strange thing, he resolved in his soul that -he would no more sell the Divine in the streets nor market -his peace for gold, but that he would set aside these stones -and pure springs for almsgiving to the poorest of the poor. -Looking up, he said this: ‘Spirit of Compassion, have pity -on my soul, bound and crippled by the love of gain. For I -too am not beyond the bounds of thy pity, and, if there is -hope of it for me in this life as the fruit of some solitary good -deed in former existences, grant that the flowers of heaven -may blossom once more and the souls of many rejoice in -their loveliness.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And, as the words were said, he knew that the prayer was -heard. The lilies returned in a beauty beyond telling, and -it seemed that half the world desired them. He who had -not known the joy of giving became now, as it were, the -very source of charity and gave not only of his lilies but of -his rice and millet and all his gains, that the heart of the poor -might be gladdened with plenty. So, as he told, we sat together, -hand in hand, with tongues that could not be satisfied -in telling and eyes that beheld the greatness of the Divine. -And for many years he came, and the monks watched -and watched for his coming and I most of all. And at last -he did not come, but his son in his place, who told me that -the bond of life had been gently loosed, and it was believed -that High Presences stood about his death-bed while the villages -mourned.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“O Brother of the Pen, write this true story, that all may -know there is none like unto the Hearer of Prayer!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The evening star hung like a steadfast lamp over the dim -ocean, and the air was so still that, when at last a faint stirring -came in the grasses and leaves, it was as if some listening -influence were passing softly away, as indeed I believe.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Skeptics may say that the wish was father to the thought. -But I know better. And as for the flowers themselves, there -is a strange susceptibility in the plant life we call “lower.” -Of that truth I know many stories which I shall tell one day.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But how shall I tell the beauty of Puto looking forth on -its little sisters of the Archipelago with the serenity of a -saint who has attained? I sat alone next day by the carved -Rock of Meditation pondering these things, and bathing my -soul in the peace of them as in deep water. The mystery of -the place was about me, for Puto is a home of the mystic -order of Buddhist monasticism which in India is called -Jhana, in Japan Zen, and there were men at hand to whom -the bond of the flesh is a thing easily unloosed. One sat on -the height above me now in profound meditation.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I analyzed my own heart. Is it because all this with the -atmosphere it creates, is so beautiful that I love it? Or is -it because it presents a truth forgotten, lost, in our hurrying -day of fevered unrest?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Because it is of the truth. That is the answer. None -can doubt it who understands and loves these people and -their teachings.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>None—who is admitted to the quiet of their secret places -and thoughts.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It is a truth which is a part of nature itself. Consider -the lilies of the field. They breathe it, the soft breezes whisper -it among the leaves of the maiden-hair trees, the measured -cadence of the sea chimes it eternally on the golden -shores of Puto.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They have the secret of peace, which we have immeasurably -and to our ruin lost.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So my friend Shan Tao and I paced along the pilgrim’s -path past the sea-cave where visions of the holy Kwan-yin -are said to have been seen in the sun ray that strikes through -the rent roof with something of the same effect as the light -contrived to fall from above in the temple of Mendoet in -Java on the white and beautiful face of the Bodhisattva who -sits in ecstasy below. And wandering on, beguiling the -way with legends and tales of the Excellent Law to reach -the southern monastery, pausing to look at the half ruined -pagoda adorned on its four faces with carvings of Kwan-yin, -and her brother saints, P’uhsien, Wen-shu and Ti-tsang, the -last known in Japan as Jizo the beloved protector of dead -children, we reached the southern monastery and the courtyard -with its noble incense burners and candle holders, -shaded by trees. Here it was a part of my purpose to search -for references in the library on the upper story where the -treasures are guarded by a serene Buddha in alabaster. And -let me say that if ever the libraries of the many Chinese -monasteries are searched with care and patience great additions -will be made not only to the science of the soul but -also to the world’s wisdom. Many lost treasures thus await -their day of resurrection—treasures brought back in the -early days of our era by Chinese monks who made the terrible -pilgrimage through the cruel deserts and mountains to -India that they might return loaded with the spiritual treasures -of illumination and wisdom, and learned comments -and digressions on these written by mighty Chinese patriarchs -whose gilded and lacquered bodies are still preserved -in the remote abodes of faith.</p> - -<hr class='tbk'/> - -<p class='pindent'>And when that day of revelation comes it will be found -how much of the religious thought of the divided faiths can -be traced to common sources in an antiquity so vast that it -strikes the soul with awe. May that knowledge bring union -and surcease to the petty wranglings and contempts which -cloud the living waters of Truth.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There are few scenes more serenely beautiful than the -lotus pond of this monastery and its still waters doubling the -old arched bridge and the sailing clouds, and the sunshine, -unbearably delicious, brooding, brooding upon it like a soul -in ecstasy. A soft collegiate calm was about us, the monks -coming and going at intervals with kindly glances at my pen -and note book, and the reverence for the written character -and for what it represents that contact with our civilization -will most certainly kill. A harmless snake was basking in -the sun not far away, and a deer taught tameness by fellowship -wandered about under the trees, as they do on the island -of Miyajima in Japan.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>How beautiful the confidence of the creatures in these -Buddhist resorts, how much we lose in losing their companionship! -The gentleness of heaven was on Puto that -day, and the words of a poet-monk who wrote of the beloved -island floated through my mind like little golden clouds.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Who tells you that there is no road to heaven? This is -heaven’s own gateway, and through it you may pass direct -to the very Throne of the Divine.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I left it on a lovely day of summer—no foam-flowers -blossoming on the Sea of Lilies, a drowsy golden haze veiling -the neighbouring islands. I could scarcely have borne to -leave it, especially its unrifled stores of wisdom, had I not -known that I was free of it henceforward and might count -on my welcome, come when I would. Almost, as we crossed -the sea, I could dream that the miraculous ship of Kwan-yin -floated before us, its sails filled with no earthly breeze, bearing -the happy souls to the golden Paradise of the West where -the very perfume of the flowers is audible in song. We who -in Dante read the story of another Boat of Souls may well -recognize the inmost truth of this legend. And certainly in -Puto the soul may at least enter the heavenly Boat of Beauty -that the poets have sung in all tongues and ages, and pass -in it to the blue horizon of dreams and delights.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:1.2em;'>THE BRIDE OF A GOD</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch3'>THE BRIDE OF A GOD</h1></div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p class='pindent'>Two hundred years ago in India, many happy people dwelt -in the little town of Krishnapur—happy because their belief -was fixed and immutable and it brought them gladness; for -in all innocence and devotion they worshipped Krishna the -Beloved, the Herdsman of Brindaban, Lord of Love, whose -name their little town carried like a jewel of price.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And certainly the God had gifted it with beauty. The -terraced houses climbed the ways of a hill deeply wooded -with tamarind and pippala trees, and down a deep ravine -ran the little Bhadra River, falling from great heights to -feed the blue lake below. The place lay in the sunshine, -clear and bright as a painting on crystal brought by the Chinese -merchants, and by the favour of the God a delicate coolness -spread upward from the lake among the clustered -houses. In its midst was a very small island with a little temple -lifting its shining gilded roof and spires among the palms. -In this he was worshipped as the Flute-Player, an image -of black basalt, very beautiful—a youth with the Flute forever -at his lips; and there were devout men and women who -declared that, in the midnight silence, sounds of music comparable -only to the music of Indra’s heaven had been heard -among the palm trees and mingled with the eternal song of -the river. This report and the beauty and quiet of the fair -little town brought a few pilgrims to bathe in the lake, crowding -the broad low ghats that led down to its pure waters -with their flower-hued garments and the strong chanting of -their prayers.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Many legends haunted the town of Krishnapur.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now the Pandit Anand Das was a man learned in the -Vedas and all the sacred books, and his heart glowed with -a great devotion. Since his son, who should have inherited -his learning, was dead, and it could not flow in that beloved -channel, he resolved that, slight and frail as a woman’s intellect -must needs be, he would instruct his daughter Radha -in the mysteries of the Holy Ones, as far as possible. He -had named her Radha from his devotion to Sri Krishna; for -Radha is the heart’s love of the God; and in bestowing this -name he had made offering and prayed that he might live to -see her as beautiful, as true in devotion as the Crowned -Lady. The prayer was answered.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Beautiful indeed was Radha, an image of golden ivory, with -lips like a pomegranate bud before its sweetness is tasted, -and great eyes dark as the midnight and lit by her stars. -Beautiful the soft moulding of her rounded chin, and the -shaping of the flower-face poised on its stem like a champak -blossom that all the bees of love must seek, and the silk-soft -brows and the heavy sweep of shadowy lashes. Flawless -from head to rosy heel as the work of a mighty craftsman -who wills not that his name shall perish, so was Radha; and -when the people saw her as she passed along the little street, -they gave thanks to the Beautiful for her beauty. Fairer -than fair, wiser than wise in all the matters of the Gods, she -lived her quiet days among the palms and temples, and each -day laid its gift at her feet.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now the Brahman, her father, having, as it were, devoted -her to the God, rejoiced to see that <span class='it'>bhakti</span>—which is faith, -love, and worship in a perfect unity—was a steadfast flame -in her heart; nor was there any word to utter her burning -devotion. As a child she would leave all play to sit before -his feet and hear as he read of the divine Krishna,—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>The story of the Lord of All</p> -<p class='line0'>Beginneth with a Pastoral,—</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>and her child’s heart lived among the meadows of Brindaban -with the marvellous Child whose very name is ‘He who draws -or attracts.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And thus her learned father taught her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“This Krishna is the true incarnation of the Preserver -who upholds the universe. ‘For in him,’ says the Mahabharata -Santeparva, ‘the worlds flutter like birds in water’; -and of him did not Maheshwara the Destroyer say: ‘The -divine and radiant Krishna must be beheld by him who desires -to behold Me.’ Thus in Sri Krishna is all Deity -sheathed in flesh, that the soul of man may dimly apprehend -his glory. A Child—yet thus in the Holy Song does the -Prince Arjun cry to him:—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“ ‘God, in thy body I see all the Gods,</p> -<p class='line0'>And all the varied hosts of living things,</p> -<p class='line0'>The undivided Thou, the highest point</p> -<p class='line0'>Of human thought.’</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“Can such a Being be approached by mere humanity? -No, he is too far away—the ear of man may not hear, and -the eye of man may not see. How if he were born among -us, if we might touch his feet, and show him in simple human -ways our devotion? How if he would turn the common -earth to beauty by breathing the air we breathe?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And because it is so desired, it is done and Krishna is -born, the Herdsman of Brindaban, the Beloved of India.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So reading day by day, he instructed her in the lovely -story of the Childhood, and, with the ancient Pastoral, took -her to the forests and rich cattle pastures where Jumna River -flows wide and still to the sea. The people are kind and -simple, the sacred cows are driven out at dawn to feed, and -brought back in the brief glow of evening by the fair women -who tend the gentle beasts; and this is Brindaban, the home -on earth of the Lord of All, the utterly Adored.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So much a child! But when floods of rain threatened -to sweep away the herds and their keepers, he raised the -hill Govardhan on the palm of his small soft hand, and sheltered -them from the torrents and the fighting winds. And, -as she sat at his feet, the Pandit showed his child Radha -pictures of that other Child, darkly beautiful, who could -poise the world on his shoulder.</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p class='pindent'>As she grew older, the story widened and deepened with her -years. But as she came to girlhood, her anxious mother, -Sita Bai, ventured with trembling to doubt if it were well to -draw her heart yet closer to the radiant manhood of the -young God; for now the story is to be mystically interpreted -and read by the light of the wisdom of the old and learned.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Was there not Mira Bai, who went mad for the love of -him and could not leave his image or his temple, and dreamed -of his sweetness night and day until she wasted to a shadow -and died? And, my lord, is not his great temple as Jagannath, -Lord of the World, but ten miles from us at the great -town of Chaki; and is it not filled with bands of <span class='it'>devidasis</span>—the -dancing girls? Would you have your daughter as one of -them—sacred but—vile?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She caught the word back on her lips and looked about -her in terror. Then added passionately:—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“O my lord, is it well to kindle such a passion in her heart, -and she little more than a child?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Better be possessed by that love than by the follies and -wickednesses that haunt the hearts of women to their ruin -and ours. Woman, I know what I do. Be silent!” was all -his answer.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So she was silent, and daily the story went onward and -filled the soul of the girl. For now, as Krishna grew to -manhood, beauty came upon him, irresistible, heart-compelling, -the world’s Desire, and on the banks of Jumna -was sung the Song of Songs—the Lover, dark and glorious, -to whom the souls of all the women of Brindaban, whether -wife or maid, cling passionately, forgetful of self and of all -but him. And the deepest symbol of the adoration of -Krishna is the passion of man for woman and woman for -man.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Walk warily here, my child, if you would understand,” -said the Pandit; “for we move among pitfalls made by the -mind of man fettered to his senses—the mind of man, that -coin bearing the double superscription of spirit and flesh. -Yet the story is plain for him who has ears to hear!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Radha, speechless, with dark eyes filled with adoring -love, listened—listened, with no heart for aught else.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Tell me more, more!” she said.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he, seeing the Divine Passion, the trembling of her -lips, the uttering of her heart, told on, imparting the desire -of the God.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And when, as at this time, a marriage was spoken of for -her with the son of the rich Brahman Narayan, she shrank -from it with such shuddering horror that for very pity her -father put it by for a while. But her mother watched in -great fear.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And every evening, when the light was calm and golden -and her father laid his books aside, she would sit before -him, putting all else aside that she might drink in the sweet -nectar of his words.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And now he told of the Herd-maidens bathing in the clear -ripple of the river where the trees hang in green shadow over -the deep pools.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Their garments lie on the bank, forgotten in the joy of -youth and life, as they sing the praises of the Beloved, until -at length one remembers and looks, and lo! some thief -has stolen the vesture, and they stand ashamed in the crystal -lymph, their long locks gathered about them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Who has so bereft them? For no man or woman should -bathe uncovered; and they have sinned—they know it!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And then a voice calls from the world of leaves above their -heads, and there sits the Desired, shining like a star caught -in the topmost boughs, and before him are rolled the stolen -garments, and when, all shamefaced, they entreat for their -restoration, the Voice exhorts them:—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And if it is for My sake you have bathed and purified -yourselves, then come forth fearless, and receive your vesture -from my hands.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he laid in her hand the picture of the Gopis fearing -and adoring as they leave the lustral water, some shrinking -in humility, to receive their vesture from the Beautiful, who -sits smiling far above them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And this, my daughter, is a very great mystery!” he said -gravely. “And its meaning is this: ‘Thy <span class='it'>Thou</span> is still -with thee; if thou wilt attain unto me, quit thyself, and -come.’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And she said,—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Father, surely the Self is withered into nothing when this -dearworthy One calls. What were life, death—anything -in the Three Worlds, compared with beholding his blissful -countenance?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he replied,—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Even so it is”; and laid aside his book and fell into a -deep musing on the Perfections of the Lord; and Radha sat -beside him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So that night her mother said timidly,—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Lord of my life, the girl is possessed by the God. I fear -for her life. In her sleep she speaks aloud of him and -stretches empty arms to the air, moaning. The colour fades -in her lips, her eyes are fixed on dreams. She has no peace. -Should we not seek an earthly lover for her own, that she -may forget this Divine that is all the world’s?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he replied sternly,—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Woman, lift up a grateful heart to the God that this girl -is not as the rest but consumed by the love of the Highest. -I have a thought unknown to you. All will be better than -well.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And she desisted in great fear and obedience; but the very -next evening was the story told of Radha—heart of the God’s -heart, the Beautiful whose name she herself bore! And the -girl listened in an ecstasy.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was a very still evening, the stars shining large and near -the earth, the moon a mere crescent, such as when Maheshwara -wears it in his hair and dreams on the mountain-peaks -of Himalaya. They sat in the wide veranda, supported -on wooden pillars bowered in the blossoms of the purple -bougainvillæa and the white and scented constellations of -jasmine. The wide transparent blinds of split cane were -raised to admit the faintly perfumed breath of the garden; -and by the Pandit’s elbow, as he sat on his raised seat, -burned a little oil lamp, that he might read the sacred pages.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Radha sat on her low cushion beside him, the <span class='it'>sari</span> of -Dakka muslin threaded with gold fallen back from her head -as she looked up.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘In the passion of their worship, the women of Brindaban -are drawn out into the forest, each grieving if he do but turn -his calm immortal eyes upon any other than herself. -Therefore, only in the secret places of the forest is there now -any joy. It has left the little houses and gone out to dwell -by the river. They must follow, for they bear the world’s -wound in their heart, and he is its Balm.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘For a time his eyes rest on Radha the Beautiful, and she, -transported with the pride of love, entreats that he will carry -her in his arms. He stretches them to her with his mystic -smile, and even as they touch her, he vanishes, and she is -alone in a great darkness.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Here again, my daughter, is the parable clear,” the -Pandit interrupted the reading to say. “Here is no room for -spiritual pride and exclusive desire. Learn your place, -proud soul! It is at his feet until he, unasked, shall raise -you to the level of his heart.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘So at the last she falters and falls, stunned with grief, -the Herd-maidens weeping beside her, and—suddenly the -Light shines. He has returned. He speaks:—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Now I have tried you. You have remembered and -thought upon me.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘You have increased your affection like beggars made -newly rich.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘You have chosen my service, abandoning the world and -the Scriptures.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘How can I do you honour? I cannot reward you -enough.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Though I should live for a hundred of Brahma’s years, -yet I could not be free of my debt.’ ”</p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p class='pindent'>She sat in silence; and breaking upon it, they heard the -soft tread of a man stop by their gate, and voices, and the -servant who guarded the gate came in haste.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Great Sir, here is the holy Brahman who is chief at the -altar of great Jagannath in Chaki, and he would speak with -you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Bring him instantly hither. Stay! I go myself!” cried -the Pandit, rising. He had forgotten his daughter.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Father, have I your leave to go?” She drew the sari -about her face.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Daughter, no. This is a wise man and great. Be reverent -and humble, and stay.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She stood, trembling with fear to see one so holy. Surely -it was a portent that the servant of the God should come on -their reading. Yet she quieted her heart, and when her father, -attending the great guest, placed him on his own seat, -with the image of the wise Elephant-Headed One wreathing -his trunk behind him, she bowed before him and touched -his feet, for to her he was as Brahman and priest, an -earthly God.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He was a man in middle life, tall and dignified in spite -of a corpulence which gained upon him, and his features -clear-cut in the proud lines that denoted his unstained ancestry. -He knew himself the superior of kings. He would -have spurned with his foot a jewel touched by the -Mogul Emperor of India. Yet more. Had the Rajput -Rana, a king of his own faith, sun-descended, royal, cast his -shadow on his food in passing, he had cast it, polluted, away. -So great is the pride of the Brahmans.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Namaskar, Maharaj! What is your honoured pleasure?” -asked the Pandit.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I am on my way to Dilapur on the divine business,” he -answered, with a voice like the lowest throbbing notes of -the bronze temple gong. “But I would have a word with -you, Brother, as I go.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Has my daughter your leave to depart, Maharaj?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Certainly, friend, though it is of her I come to speak. -May I behold the face of the maiden? A Brahmani has no -need to veil it. They are not secluded like the Toorki -women.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Unveil before the Presence, my daughter, Radha.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The guest started at the name so familiar to him in his -devotions.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is singular, in view of my errand, that you should have -given her this holy name, Pandit-ji.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She deserves it for the devoted love that she bears to -Sri Krishna,” returned her father. “Of her face I say nothing, -but her heart is flawless.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is well!” said the priest Nilkant Rai, and turned -gravely to Radha.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Many were the <span class='it'>devidasis</span>, the nautch girls of the God, in -the Temple of Jagannath. His eyes, deep and glowing, -were no strangers to beauty, for the fairest were gathered -like flowers to adorn the altars of the God, to dance and sing -before his divine dreams, in all things to abide his will.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Six thousand priests serve Sri Krishna as Jagannath, Lord -of the Universe, at Chaki, for great is his splendour. The -Raja of Dulai, royal though he be, is the sweeper of his -house. More than twenty thousand men and women do his -pleasure, and of the glories of his temple who can speak?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But never had Nilkant Rai beheld such beauty as trembled -before him then—darkly lovely, whitely fair, the very -arrows of desire shooting from the bow of her sweet lips, -half-child, half-woman, wholly desirable.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>His eyes roved from the wonder of her face to the delicate -rounding of her young breasts and the limbs exquisitely expressed, -yet hidden, by the sari.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He looked in silence, then turned to the Pandit.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Surely she is an incarnation of Radha in face as in name. -Brother, she has my leave to go.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yet, when she had fled like a shadow, Nilkant Rai did -not hasten. The other waited respectfully. <span class='it'>Pañ</span>—the betel -for chewing—was offered in a silver casket. A garland of -flowers perfumed with attar of roses was placed about the -guest’s neck. Refreshments were served and refused.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At length he spoke, looking on the ground.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Brother, it is known to you that the God makes choice -when he will of a bride, favoured above all earthly women. -Beautiful must she be, pure as a dewdrop to reflect his glory -and return it in broken radiance, young, devout— Surely, -even in this land of devotion, it is not easy to find such a -one!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is not easy, holy one!” returned the Pandit, trembling -as he foreknew the end.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The other continued calmly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Now it so chanced that the priest Balaram passed lately -through this town, and going by the tank to the temple, beheld -your daughter, and returning, he came to me and said: -‘The God has shown the way. I have seen the Desire of -his eyes.’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Great is the unlooked-for honour,” said the Pandit -trembling violently; “so great that her father and mother -bend and break beneath it. But consider, Holy One—she -is an only child. Have pity and spare us! The desolate -house—the empty days!” His voice trailed broken into -silence.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“If this hides reluctance!” Nilkant Rai began sternly. -“If you have given a foul belief to any tale of the Temple——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I, holy Sir! I have heard nothing. What should I -hear?” The old man’s voice was feeble with fear. “Do -I disparage the honour? Sri Krishna forbid! No, it is but -the dread of losing her—the empty, empty house!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And is she not at the age when marriage becomes a duty, -and would she not leave you then? Unreasonable old man!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Holy Sir—Maharaj, I tremble before the honour. But -if the girl married, she would bring her babe and make her -boast and gladden our hearts. But thus she is lost to us. -Have pity! There are other Brahmans rich in daughters. -Take not the one from my poverty.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Nilkant Rai rose to his feet with majesty.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I go. Never shall the God be rejected and ask twice. -But when your daughter, old and haggard, looks up at you, -answer that it was her unworthy father who kept her as a -drudge on earth, when he might have raised her to a throne -in heaven.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As the old man stood with clasped hands, Radha broke -from the shadows and threw herself before him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My father, would you hold me back? What joy, what -glory in all the world can befall your child like this? The -bride of the God! O Father!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The tears were running down her face like rain. They -glittered in the lamplight. He could not meet her eyes. -Nilkant Rai stood by, silent.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She is beautiful as a nymph of Indra’s heaven!” he -thought. “Not Urvasi and Menaka, the temptresses of -sages, were more lovely!” He said aloud;</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The maiden is right. She is worthy of the God’s embrace. -Is there more to say?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Maharaj, I worship you!” said the old man submissively -(and still he had not looked at his child). “It is well. -What orders?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Let her be perfumed and anointed daily. Let her food -and drink be purer than the pure. Let her worship daily at -the temple of Sri Krishna. The bridal shall be held in a -month from this, that time being auspicious. The Car of -her Lord shall come for her as the Queen she is, and all envy -the Chosen.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He turned to Radha, still at her father’s feet.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Farewell, happiest Lady. Joys earthly and celestial -await you. Rest in the knowledge of the favour of Sri -Krishna. Hear of him, dream of him, until the glad truth -slays all dream.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He moved slowly toward the steps. Her father pursued -him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Maharaj. Forgive, forgive! I neglect my manners. -Thanks a thousandfold for the honour you have condescended -to bring us this happy day. Your commands are -ever before me.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The words poured forth. He could not say enough.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is well, Pandit-ji. It is well. Say no more!” said the -great guest, striding onward to the gate where two other -Brahmans and his <span class='it'>palki</span> awaited him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She stood in the shadows as the Pandit returned.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Father, beloved, did I do wrong? Have you not taught -me all my life that there is none like him—none?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My pearl, what is done is done. He cannot be resisted. -It is well your heart goes with your feet. Now sleep.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She passed in silently, and sat all night by the small cotton -mattress laid on the floor. How could she sleep?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Nor was there sleep for the Pandit. Sita Bai needed -little telling, for she had listened behind the curtains; and -now, with a livid pallor upon her, she confronted him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Lord of my life, what is there to say? You know—you -know!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I know,” he answered heavily.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Sita Bai was too dutiful a wife to reproach her husband -with anything done; but his own thoughts returned to the -long evenings spent in contemplating the Perfections of the -God. He replied to his thought.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yet had she never heard his name, it had been the same. -Nothing could have saved her from the temple of Jagannath.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Saved.” He caught the word back from his own lips in -deadly fear, and added in haste: “Whom the God honours -cannot set his grace aside, and there is none who would. -None in heaven or earth.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“None,” echoed the woman faintly. Then, in a whisper -scarcely to be heard, “Whom Nilkant Rai chooses”—and -steadily averted her eyes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They dared say no more of this even in whispers to each -other; for if this were reported, grief, ruin, death were the -sure end.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>One word more did Anand Pandit breathe:—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She must keep her joy. It is the God’s. If he love her, -he yet may save her. Let no word be said.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She touched his feet in token of submission. All night -they sat in a bitter silence.</p> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<p class='pindent'>Next day, all through the little holy town, bathing in its -glad sunshine beneath the swaying palms, had run the news -of this honour. Sita Bai, with a mask of gladness fixed on -her face, visited the wife of the goldsmith, and begged her -sympathy with the divine event. The gold bangles rang -as she joined her hands; for she had come clad in splendour, -and her sari was of purple silk of Paitan woven with strands -of gold.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>When Radha went with her mother to the temple, crowds -of the simple people had gathered by the lake beneath the -neems and tamarinds to behold the beauty beloved of the -God. True, they had seen it before, but to-day it was -strange and new. Her throat rose like the stem of the lotus -above the snowy folds of her sari, and like the purity of the -lotus was her face with its downward eyes hidden in heavy -lashes. She moved already like a bride, a little apart from -her mother, to whom she had clung hitherto.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A voice shouted, “Jai Krishna!” (Victory to Krishna), -and many voices took up the cry. A woman, quivering with -eagerness, flung a garland of wet marigolds about her neck. -Flowers were strewn before her happy feet. Never before -had a Bride been chosen from Krishnapur. It might well -seem the benediction of the God.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A beautiful woman, in a sari of jade-green and silver, -pressed up close to her and whispered,—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Pray for me, O Beautiful, when you lie in the arms of -the God, for me Ramu, wife of Narayan the Sahoukhar, that -I may bear a son. Surely he will grant it for a wedding -gift!” She stooped to the feet of Radha to worship her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I will pray,” the bride answered, pacing gently onward.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Petitions poured in upon her as she moved through the -dappled light and shadow of the trees, beside the melted -jewels of the lake. A great gladness possessed her. It was -as if the air upbore her light feet; and the people followed -in crowding joy until she made the <span class='it'>ashtanga</span>—the great -prostration before the Flute-Player, the Alone, the Beautiful, -who moves through the world scattering joy and love with -the far music of his Flute—He to whom all and none may -draw near.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>When the people were gone and the sun had set, and quiet -breathed from the grey garments of evening, she entreated -her father to read to her from the Song of Songs, written -by the sweet-voiced singer Jayadeva, who has sounded all -the secrets of love.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At first he hesitated, then with a strange look upward, he -read.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘This is the story of the anguish of Radha.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘For Radha, jasmine-bosomed, beautiful, waited in vain -for her immortal Lover, by the banks of Jumna. This is -the Dark Night of the Soul, for the face of the Beloved is -averted in eclipse. In her sight, joyous and joy-giving, he -lingers on the banks of Jumna with the happy herd-maids, -while the <span class='it'>koels</span> flute their soft <span class='it'>koo-hoo-oo</span> in the deep green -shade. And the poet makes the invocation:—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘ “Krishna, Lord of Love, stoop from thy throne to aid us. -Deign to lift up our hearts for the sake of this song that is -the cry of all who shed the tears of desertion as Radha -shed them.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘And Radha cries aloud in her despair:—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“ ‘ “Wind of the Indian stream,</p> -<p class='line0'>A little, O a little, breathe once more</p> -<p class='line0'>The fragrance of his mouth. Blow from thy store</p> -<p class='line0'>One last word, as he fades into a dream.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘But he, far away in his Heaven, is lost in the Infinite -Bliss; while she, deceived, beholds him playing by the -river. Yet, because the soul, fevered with illusion, cannot -soar to him, he forsakes his throne, sending his messenger -before him, thus to plead with her:—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“ ‘ “The lesson that thy faithful love has taught him</p> -<p class='line0'>  He has heard.</p> -<p class='line0'>The wind of spring, obeying thee has brought him</p> -<p class='line0'>  At thy word.</p> -<p class='line0'>What joy in all the Three Worlds was so precious</p> -<p class='line0'>  To thy mind?</p> -<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Ma kuru manini manamayè</span>,<a id='r1'/><a href='#f1' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[1]</span></sup></a></p> -<p class='line0'>  O be kind!”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<div class='footnote'> -<p class='footnote'> -<span class='footnote-id' id='f1'><a href='#r1'>[1]</a></span> - -My proud one, do not indulge in scorn.</p> - -</div> - -<hr class='footnotemark'/> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘He pleads, as it were, for forgiveness, the Divine reasoning -with the soul and justifying his ways. And all is -well, and joy leaps over the horizon like the sun that drives -the dark with arrows of victory. For he comes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘So then, Jayadeva writes of the high close, the mystic -nuptials of the soul and her Bridegroom.’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The old Pandit paused, his voice trembling, with the dark -eyes of his Radha fixed upon him. Then read on:—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“ ‘Enter the House of Love, O Loveliest!</p> -<p class='line0'>Enter the marriage bower, most Beautiful,</p> -<p class='line0'>And take and give the joy that Krishna grants.’ ”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>And again he paused, the words choking in his throat, -and she laid a soft hand on his.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“ ‘Then she, no more delaying, entered straight;</p> -<p class='line0'>Shame, which had lingered in her downcast eyes,</p> -<p class='line0'>Departed shamed. And like the mighty deep</p> -<p class='line0'>Which sees the moon and rises, all his life</p> -<p class='line0'>Uprose to drink her beams.’ ”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>He laid the book aside and extinguished the little lamp, -so that only the moonlight was about them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>After a while, he said,—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My daughter, the God leads you in strange ways. Yet, -whatever the hearts of men, he is true. Offer him your -heart in all purity, and in the end it shall be well with you. -We will speak of this no more.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But, Father beloved, do you not share my joy?” she said -tremulously.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He was silent.</p> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<p class='pindent'>The days went by very swiftly to the time of the divine -marriage. Messengers came and went between the mighty -temple of Jagannath and little Krishnapur, bearing gifts and -jewels. Casting half-contemptuous glances, they passed by -the little shrine where the Bride worshipped daily; but all -contempt died when they were admitted to see her face.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The God has chosen well!” they said, and looked at one -another with meaning.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So the great day dawned in a passion of sunlight, and with -flutes and drums and shouting the great Car of Jagannath -waited for the Bride; and as she came forth, the -pomegranate-blossom flush of joy rising in her golden -cheek, her parents bowed before her and touched her feet -in worship—no longer their daughter, but a goddess.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Ankleted and zoned with gold, clothed in woven gold so -supple that it yielded to every breath, the sun-rays dazzled -back from her upon the adoring crowd until they put up -their hands to veil the splendour. And so she sat, a Radiance, -for all the world to see, high on the Car wreathed and -hung with flowers, the image of the Bridegroom beside her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Oh, wonderful, terrible greatness for a woman! And so, -with songs and triumph they bore her to her bridal.</p> - -<hr class='tbk'/> - -<p class='pindent'>Mighty is the Temple of Jagannath, where by the eternal -sea the people crowd all day to worship the Lord of the -Universe. In little Krishnapur, he is the Beloved, the -Herdsman, the Beautiful. Here, he is far removed—too -great for love or fear. Human thought quails before his -Vastness.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The temple is in itself a city, and no feet but those of -worshippers may pass even the strong outward walls. Very -glorious are the carvings that adorn it. Terrible figures -of Gods, many-headed, many-armed, bending giant bows, -trampling giant enemies, brandishing awful weapons, dandling -on their knees great Goddesses with slender loins and -full breasts that overweight their swaying grace. Very -awful are these figures, with clustering hair and crowns -above their long eyes, and suns and moons rising and setting -on their brows, and the symbols of their might scattered -about them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But it was night, and it was among the wildly tossing -lights that the Bride approached the home of her Lord; and -the temple was dreadful, for it was dark and all the intricate -ways lit with flickering points of light like the eyes -of beasts; and, lost among strangers, her heart turned to -water; for it resembled a great cave of blackness, and she -could see but the naked bodies of worshippers and giant images -of the holy Gods hovering through thick air laden with -incense fumes and burning <span class='it'>ghi</span> and the dung of the sacred -animals and the pungent smell of rotting marigolds. And -there were cauldrons with flames fed by wild worshippers -from the hills, and these crowded about the <span class='it'>palki</span> wherein -they brought her through the temple, and touched it with -hands that made her tremble, imploring her prayers as she -lay in the breast of the God. Bats hung from the roof or -swooped in the gloom. Their sourness tainted the air, and -men, dim as ghosts, slunk about the fearful ways.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Thus dwell the Gods.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And suddenly terror submerged her like an ocean wave, -and she sank back and the world left her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>When sense and memory returned, she lay in her <span class='it'>palki</span> in -the great Hall of Dancing—a mighty hall supported on -many pillars; and around her stood in motionless bands the -<span class='it'>devidasis</span>, the dancers of the God, chosen to delight his -senses for their grace and beauty.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And, seeing her stretch her hands for help, the wild and -flying dance began. They lifted her from the <span class='it'>palki</span> and she -stood among them, shimmering in gold, and about her they -wheeled, advancing and retiring, linking and unlinking like -dancers in a dream. And they sang the marriage song she -had heard in the quiet of her home; but now it was terrible -as it burst from hundreds of throats, gonged and cymbaled, -with clashing and a thunder-beat of drums.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Enter, thrice-Happy, enter, thrice-Desired,</p> -<p class='line0'>And let the gates of Hari shut thee in.</p> -<p class='line0'>Tremble not. Lay thy lovely shame aside</p> -<p class='line0'>And love him with the love that knows not fear.</p> -<p class='line0'>Give him the drink of amrit from thy lips.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>She stood like one clinging to a surf-beaten rock as they -tossed about her with wild hands and eyes, the whole world -mad with noise and dance and colour; then, dropping on her -knees, she covered her eyes in terror.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And thus the servants of the God welcomed her to his -arms.</p> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<p class='pindent'>Night, and a great quiet. A chamber of gold set with -jewels glittering in the moonlight that came down some -secret way, borne on a cool breath from the sea.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She lay alone in the golden place, and the jewels watched -her like eyes. Was it terror, was it love that possessed -her? A thousand images blurred her closed eyes—He, the -Beautiful, with peacock crown, with eyes that draw the soul, -with lips of indescribable sweetness. It could not be that -she should lie close to the heart of the God. How dare -flesh and blood aspire to that mystic marriage? Must they -not perish in the awful contact? And, if it could be, how -return to earth after that ecstasy?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“May I know and die!” she prayed. “Oh, let me not -pass unknowing! Let me know and die!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And as the minutes dropped by, this prayer was all her -thought, and it possessed her being.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Then, dividing the darkness, she heard the voice of a -Flute very far off. Like a silver mist, it spread vaporous, -a small fine music, but growing, drawing nearer, and, as it -strengthened, clear drops of music fell through this mist -like honey from the black bees’ comb. It crept about her -brain and steeped her eyes as if in poppy juice, so sweet, -so gliding, most infinitely wooing as it grew and filled the -air with peace.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And in this high marvel was a blissful safety beyond all -words, more sweet and delectable than any man may tell. -The grace of his Childhood, of the dearworthy passage of -his blessed Feet among men, returned to her with a joy that -melted her heart with love. And so she rose and stood upon -her feet, as one called, trembling with blissful longing.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Far down the long ways, passing through pools of moonlight -and dark, came One whom the music followed. His -face could not at first be seen; about him was a leopard -skin. Naked but for this, beautiful and slender, his silent -feet moved onward. Like one utterly alone in a great forest, -he came,—slowly,—lost in some unutterable thought, made -audible in sweet sound.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The Bride, the Lover, and between them, the music and -the moonlight only. She would have knelt, but her feet were -fixed; and he drew near with unseeing eyes—O Beautiful, O -wholly desirable, to draw the hearts of men! And still -the Face Divine was hidden.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But as he drew near and would have passed, she cried -aloud with a passionate glad cry, “My Lord indeed!” rejoicing -suddenly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he turned and looked upon his Bride with heavens -in his eyes. And as she saw what no words can utter, she -fell upon his feet and lay, slain sweetly with a bliss more -keen than any pain.</p> - -<hr class='tbk'/> - -<p class='pindent'>But the Brahman, Nilkant Rai, waiting behind the pillar -to seize his prey, had heard and seen nothing of the Glory.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As she fell, he sprang like a tiger on a fawn, and lifted -the fair dead body, and stumbled in the trailing hair, and -knew his vileness conquered. And in that moment the Eye -of Destruction opened upon him the beam that withers -worlds and hurls them like shriveled leaves into the Abyss.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he dropped her and stumbled screaming into the -dark, a leper white as snow.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But when they came in the dawn to implore the will of -the God from the happy lips that his had blessed, the Bride -lay at rest on the dim straight golden bed, and between her -breasts was a Flute set with strange jewels that no man -could name. Nor shall they ever; for when they laid her -body on the pyre they left this Flute in her bosom.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And when Anand Das heard what had befallen, he said -this:—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“When did the Herdsman sleep on his guard or the Beloved -fail the heart that loved Him? It is well, and better -than well.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he who tells this story ends it thus:—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Meditates the Herdsman ever,</p> -<p class='line0'>Seated by the sacred river,</p> -<p class='line0'>The mystic stream that o’er His feet</p> -<p class='line0'>Glides slow with murmurs low and sweet—”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>and breast to breast with God, the soul that adores Him.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.2em;'>THE BELOVED OF THE GODS</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:.8em;'>A STORY FROM THE MAHABHARATA</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch4'>THE BELOVED OF THE GODS</h1></div> - -<h3>A STORY FROM THE MAHABHARATA</h3> - -<p class='pindent'>Reverence to Ganesha, Lord of the Elephant Trunk, that, -in a day found fortunate, he aid me to tell this tale, which -whoso heareth shall receive prosperity in this world and in -that other.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In the age of the ancestors there dwelt a great King in -Vidarbha, with a Queen of the highest grace and beauty, -and these did all things pleasing to the gods, making rich -gifts to Brahmans and honouring kine, and in reward for -these things the gods gave to them three sons and a daughter, -and this was Damayanti, the loveliest of earthly women. -And she was known throughout the universe as the “Consumer -of Hearts”; for the very report of her beauty agitated -the hearts of thousands who might never hope to see it. -Slender-waisted was she and stately as a young palm-tree, -and though she was a mortal, Sri, the wife of Narayana, -had dowered her with her own eyes, black and soft and so -long-lidded that they all but touched the silken hair upon -her temples. The very gods in the Paradise of Indra heard -the report of this marvel and coveted it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now as Damayanti, like a crescent moon, rounded into -maidenhood, it so befell that her maidens in talk together -praised none but that Tiger among Men, Nala the Prince. -For they said: “This Prince overpasses all men, and what -shall be said of him? Surely he is laughing, bold and handsome -as Kama, the God of Love—he whose bow is strung -with honey-bees, sweet and stinging. The arrows of his -eyes are pointed with five-tongued flame. All hearts burn -in his glances.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Damayanti silently heard and pondered.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But the report of her had in like manner reached Nala, -and sweet thoughts grew up in him for the slender-waisted -maid. And he dreamed of her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now it chanced that one day, wandering in the great -woods that surrounded his palace, he saw a flock of swans, -white and beautiful as though washed in the waters of -Lake Manasarovar, that cold jewel of the Himalaya, and -indeed they were of that royal race of swans who, dwelling -there, feed only on unpierced seed-pearls, and therefore are -they so white. So, as they drew together, the Prince, -stealing noiseless as a snake through the jungle, seized one, -for love of its whiteness, and held the long throat clutched in -his hands and the plumed wings beneath his knees.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But in those days royal men had understanding of the -lesser creatures of the gods, and that king-swan spoke and -Nala heard his speech: “O Tiger among Men, slay me not. -To me also is my life dear and precious! Have pity, for I -will do good service. I will fly through many leagues of -air, and in the ear of the Princess Damayanti will I say that -of all men you are the noblest and stateliest. And having -heard this, she will greatly desire you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And by the favour of Kama, the Prince withdrew his -hands, saying, “Swan, observe your promise; for this is the -duty of the honourable.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the swan, inclining his head, flew away with his companions, -having instructed them as to the course they should -pursue on alighting in the gardens of Vidarbha.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now in the garden-close the Princess and her maidens -played, and she excelled them all, though each was fair. -And the swans, seeing these lovely ones among the flowers, -fluttered to earth and stood near them, arching their necks -and preening their feathers, and their whiteness delighted -the Princess and she said, laughing: “Chase these swans, -each one a swan; for it appears that they desire captivity at -our hands.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And every maiden pursued a swan, with laughter and -sweet cries, and as each all but seized her swan, the swan -eluded her and fluttered a little farther. Most lovely of -all sights was it to behold the maidens and the swans, as, -equal in beauty, they fluttered hither and thither among -the flowers and the trees. And Damayanti, laughing with -her voice of music, pursued her swan, she also, that lovely -lady of the long eyes, not knowing that her heart was the -destined prey of the swan she sought to capture.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For, when her hands were even upon the snow of his -plumage, that king-swan eluded her again and spoke in -the speech of man, and in amazement she stood to hear -what he would say, as he inclined his head before her feet. -“Lady, O Most Beautiful, Damayanti, Consumer of Hearts, -there is a Prince in Nishada, and his name—oh, mark it well—is -Nala. As the Twin Stars shine in the sky, so he shines -among men. Surely we swans, flying in the pure air, see all -men and divine beings and the great gods. But we have -seen none like unto Nala. Pearl among Women, if you -should wed this Prince of Princes, were it not better than -well?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And when Damayanti heard this, she looked sidelong -through her lashes like a maid, for she was young and -tender, and she said this, very softly: “Dear swan—white -swan! Fly and tell this thing to the Prince.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And that white beauty, the feeder on pearls, said, “Hearing -and obeying, I go.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And with strong strokes of his pinions he rose into the -sky, followed by his mates, and clove the air to Nishada and -told the Prince her word, being the destined messenger of -love.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But he carried the heart of the maid upon his wings; for -Damayanti sat her down upon the flowers and, when her -ladies returned from chasing the swans, they found her with -her hand pressed upon her empty bosom and tears welling -like jewels from the dark deeps of her eyes. And though -they entreated her to speak and reveal the cause of her -grief, she would say nothing but this one thing: “All is -well—and ill! Trouble me no further.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And they returned, sighing, to the palace, with Care -among them for a companion.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For Damayanti wanned and paled. Like a caged jungle-dweller -would she pace up and down, unresting, her eyes -upon the ground. Food lost its savour, and what was sleep -but a weariness? And in the garden-close she sat in her -gold gown and watched the peacocks displaying their -splendour to the sun as they danced before the rains, and -she only prayed for wings that she might fly to Nishada. -Very full of mischief were the words of that swan!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So her royal mother, instructed by the maidens that the -Princess pined away daily, went to her lord, the King, and -said: “Such and such is the case of our daughter. Do -then according to your wisdom.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the King pondered the thing deeply; for he loved -his daughter, and he answered: “I perceive she is no -longer a child. Youth and maidenhood are waxing in her, -and who can gainsay them? It is now fitting that she make -her choice among princes and kings.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So the careful King, having considered, sent forth this -message to the courts of kings: “Lords of the Earth, it is -with us an ancient and honourable custom that the daughters -of kings make choice of a husband suitable to their degree -and royalty; nor do we force them to unchosen marriages. -And this is known as the <span class='it'>swayamvara</span> of a king’s -daughter. My Princess is now of due age to choose her -lord. Come therefore to the swayamvara of Damayanti, -receiving honourable welcome.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the news flew like gongs and drums over the land; for -there was no man but knew of the loveliness of the Consumer -of Hearts, and each one thought within himself, “She -will choose me, and yet if not, still shall I see that face of -faces.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So from every country came processions to the court of -Vidarbha: trains of elephants walking slowly beneath the -weight of the gold and silver castles upon their backs, where -sat the kings of men; horses with jewelled saddles and -bridles, the very stirrups glittering with clarified gems that -the feet of kings might tread upon them; glorious companies -of fighting-men, bearing their pennons; archers with bows -tipped with ivory, strung until they sang like the strings -of the <span class='it'>sitar</span> in the wind. So in armies they came until the -earth groaned beneath their feet, and the great camps were -set about Vidarbha.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Also came Nala the Prince, gallantly accompanied, riding -to Vidarbha, and thoughts of love were thick as honey-bees -in his heart.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But who shall discern the thoughts of the Gods?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For it chanced that two great saints, Narada and Parvata, -mighty in their austerities, pure and high of thought, -ascended the heavens at that time, to make a visit and -obeisance to Indra the God, in his own Paradise. And he, -the King of the Clouds, rising to them, did them honour -and welcomed them; for the presence of the saints is as a -rich perfume in the nostrils of the gods. Therefore he -saluted the two, asking tidings of the world.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Narada replied: “High God, it is well with -the world. It is well with the kings. There is no complaint.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Indra spoke again: “But where are my fighters—the -kings of men? Do they not love—do they not fight -as of old? I see no souls of haughty warriors entering my -heaven. Is it all peace? Where are my fighting-men?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So Narada made reply: “O Cloudy God, all is peace -upon the earth, and there is no thought but of beauty: -the King of Vidarbha makes the choosing for his daughter -and the kings and princes dream of naught else; for she -is the very Lotus of the World and the Pearl of Women. -And the kings flock as one man to Vidarbha.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And while Narada said this, the Immortals gathered to -hear, and when he spoke of the maid Damayanti, their -eyes shot forth peculiar radiance and they said: “To this -maid’s choosing we four will go. She is worthy to choose -among the deathless rather than the kings, and she shall -reign in the Paradise of Indra and sit beside that divinity -whose bride she wills to be.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Indra, the Cloudy God, said, “I will go.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Agni, the Lord of Fire, said, “I also.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Varuna, the King of Waters, said, “And I.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the Dark Presence that is Yama, the Lord of Death, -said, “I go.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So their winged chariots that are self-directed, flying like -thought where they will, awaited them, and the gods ascended -them and, thinking of Vidarbha, were presently beside -its walls.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But Nala the Prince, approaching with his company of -great men and soldiers, elated with love and hope, looked -up and beheld the Gods, seated in their golden chariots. -And these, the Protectors of the World, saw him and hesitation -in their purpose seized them, because he shone like the -sun and was a man indeed, and their divine hearts adjudged -him worthy even of Damayanti—so straight and tall he -stood and like a king’s lance, and in the beauty of his brows -and strength of his person was there no blemish from head -to foot. Even like their own brother, Kama, the God of -Love, so he seemed to them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But, descending through the clouds and softening their -divine voices that human ears might abide them, they accosted -him: “Aho! Prince of Nishada—Prince Royal! -We have an errand. We have need of a noble messenger. -Who will go for us?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he did homage, pressing his palms together, answering: -“I see Four Shining Ones. I will go. What is -your errand, that I may do it?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So Indra, leaning from his chariot, said this: “The Gods -stand before you, Prince of Nishada. I am Indra, the King -of the Clouds, and he beside me is Agni, the Lord of Fire, -and here, Varuna, the King of Waters, and he behind me is -Yama, the Lord of Death. Go now to Damayanti the Princess, -and say this to her: ‘The Protectors of the World, the -Four Great Gods, desiring your beauty, are come to the swayamvara. -Make choice then to which of these Great Ones -your heart inclines; for that dignity whom you shall choose -is yours, O maiden of excelling fortune.’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But Nala, joining his hands in prayer, said to Indra: -“O Mighty, how can I do this? O Mightinesses, anything -but this! I, too, have journeyed to Vidarbha, desiring the -maid. How should I entreat for another, even for a god? -Being divine, have pity.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But these divinities replied: “Have you not said, ‘I go’? -Is it possible that a royal man should break his word? It is -not possible. The great forswear themselves in nothing. -Depart.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So he said: “Her gates are guarded; for she is a king’s -daughter. A man may have no secret speech with her.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Indra answered: “But that may you! Fear not. -Depart.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And as the divine voice ceased, the Prince stood in the -inmost chamber of Damayanti. He knew not how; yet -he was there.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And his eyes swam and his heart fluttered within him; -for she sat with her maids like a goddess and his heart -knew her. Beautiful was she and yet more than beautiful; -for all grace, all love shone about her as the light surrounds -the moon in her interlunar caves. So a mild radiance filled -the air about the Princess and moved as she moved, going -with her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now, when these ladies beheld a man standing in their -presence, they sprang up like frightened deer, each grasping -the other for protection and gathering about the Princess -to shield her, so great was their fear. Then, seeing -the kindliness of his beauty and the nobility of his brows, -these lovely ones gathered courage and they saluted him -with timidity, murmuring: “Aho, his grace! Aho, his -beauty! What is he? Who?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But the Princess, her heart fluttering like a leaf in the -wind, stood higher than the rest and spoke thus: “Noble -Prince—for by a faultless body I judge you royal—how -have you come thus suddenly like a God? Surely this would -anger my father. Have you no fear of his wrath?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But there was love in her voice and with love the Prince -answered: “O Most Lovely, I am Nala of Nishada, and I -am the herald of the gods. For to your choosing come -the Four, almighty, heaven-shining—Indra the King of -the Clouds, Agni of the Fire, Varuna of the Waters, and -he whom to name is fear, Yama, the Lord of Death. And -these will that you choose one among them to be your immortal -lord, and it is by their power that I stand before you. -Who am I to be the messenger of the Great Ones? Now -judge what is well; for this is an honour to shake the soul -of a woman.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So Damayanti bowed her fair head in reverence, hearing -the gods named, and having done obeisance, she raised -her head and spoke: “Yet, O Prince, is my heart set on -you and I am faithful. The white swan was my messenger -and to you he bore my love. It is for your sake only that -the kings are bidden to my swayamvara, but I have already -chosen. Even now the maidens make ready the garland -that I would hang about your neck. O Prince of Men, O -Flame of Strength and Knightliness, what says your heart? -For me, I choose your arms or death. There is no other -way.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he, sighing bitterly, said: “With the very Gods -awaiting you, how, Princess, should you choose a man? -And what am I but dust beneath their feet? But you, O -lady, choosing one of these excelling Gods, shall escape all -death and mortality and reign shining beside him throughout -the ages; for immortal flowers do not wither, and death and -time are unknown to such as these. Sit therefore enthroned -above us. Choose and, choosing, be divine.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But she replied in haste and weeping: “Before these -mighty Gods I bow. To them I address my prayers, but -you I choose—you only will I take for my husband. You -only. What to me is immortal life if I have not you?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And her body trembled like a bamboo in the wind, while -he replied: “Here being their messenger, I may not speak -for myself. Duty and reverence hold the door of my lips. -Yet if the time come when in honour I may speak, then will -I utter what lies in my heart. May that time come!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“May it come!” said the Princess and dashed the tears -from her eyes, and like a queen she stood and said: “In -full presence of my father and of the kings let these Divine -Ones enter, and, O Prince, who are the light of my sad eyes, -enter you, too, and I, a free maiden, will choose freely. And -to you, what blame? For it is I who choose and the gods -know all.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So he returned to the Gods and, sighing, told what had -befallen, bidding them to the swayamvara of Damayanti, -the Consumer of Hearts. So the Shining Ones knew that -her heart was set upon Nala of Nishada.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now, on an auspicious day and in the right quarter of -the moon, the swayamvara was held in a mighty court surrounded -by golden pillars bound with garlands, and with -royal seats set for the suitors. And closing it in was a great -gatehouse with guards.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Through the gates passed the kings to their places, and -what a sight was there as these noblest of the earth approached! -How should a woman choose among them? -Crowned were they with odorous blossoms pressed down -upon their dark locks. Lordly jewels swung in their ears. -Some were rough in majesty, great-thewed, and the muscles -stood out upon them like cords. Some were delicate in -strength like bows of the archer Gods, but splendid kings -were all, proud and fierce of aspect, fit spouses for such -beauty; and in a ring they sat, their eyes glittering and fixed -upon the way that Damayanti should enter, desiring that -loveliness as the very crown jewel of their state. But none -saw the Gods.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And into that ring of set faces entered the Princess, unveiled -and pacing like a deer, and on her right hand her -brother Danta, and the garland of choosing on her arm, and -when she entered all held their breath, so more than mortal -fair she seemed, and they knew that the half was not told -them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So, with her soul set on Nala of Nishada, the Princess -Damayanti went by the kings, and, as she passed each one, -his face darkened as when a cloud crosses the sun and the -world is grey. So at last she stood before Nala and raised -her eyes under the cloud of her beautifully bent lashes, and -fear and pain shot through her tender heart like an arrow, -for lo, the Four Shining Ones had condescended to take the -earthly shape of Nala as they stood beside him, so that they -might try the maid and she not know her love. There were -five Nalas, and which was her own she could in no way tell, -for each one bore his very face, his very form. So the Gods -walk disguised, and who shall know them?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Then, sore perplexed, trembling in her great fear and -reverence, she sought, meditating, to recall the signs by -which the Gods may be discerned when they assume flesh. -But of these none could she see, and the five remained immovable -as she stood before them and in silence the kings -watched what would be.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So, seeing no help in herself or anywhere on earth, that -lovely lady joined her palms and, raising her lotus-eyes, -spoke thus: “O Divine Ones, I heard the swan and chose -my lord, and by that sincerity which I have kept in all faith -and honour, I call upon your greatness, O Mighty, who for a -while have blinded my eyes, to show my King to me! Appear, -O Protectors of the World, in your proper shape, that -I may do such reverence as mortals owe to Gods; and reveal -him, mortal, but mine own.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Being thus called upon in the strength of a pure woman, -straightway the Gods, dropping all disguise, disclosed their -beauty. And immediately she knew them; for their sacred -feet touched not the earth but hung a span’s length above it -in the air, and their forms of crystal essence cast no shadow. -No sweat was beaded on their pure, eternal brows, and their -crowns of flowers in radiance cast back the sun’s beams nor -drooped in the heat. And neither wavered their shining -eyes, fixed upon the Princess, nor did the lids flicker, and in -motionless majesty the Immortal Gods stood there.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And beside them stood Nala, very weary and foredone -with grief and pain. His shadow lay black before him in -the fierce sun, the sweat hung thick upon his brows where -the faded flowers drooped. Beautiful, wearied and mortal, -he stood beside the Immortal Gods.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So Damayanti looked upon those unchanging faces, in -which was neither sorrow nor anger, for they sit above the -thunder; and they regarded her, as it were unseeing, yet seeing -all things, as do the holy images, and in their divine -hearts was no love at all. So she passed them by and hung -the perfumed garland round the bowed neck of her love, and -in her voice of music took him to be her lord.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he said this: “O Lovely—O Faithful, since before -Gods and men you have chosen me, unworthy, true man will -I be and faith and honour will I keep while the breath is in -my nostrils.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So together they worshipped the Four, while all the kings -and princes cried aloud: “<span class='it'>Sadhu!</span>”—“Well done!” For -there was none but rejoiced in the beauty and faithfulness -of these two.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So the Immortal Gods, standing in that presence, gave -lordly gifts to the pair. And Indra, the Cloudy God, gave -this: that, when Nala should perform sacrifice, he should -with mortal eyes see the visible God and behold him unafraid. -And Agni, the Lord of Fire, gave this: that at all -times he would come at the call of Nala. And this is a great -gift. And Varuna, the King of Waters, gave this: that at -the word of Nala of Nishada the waters should rise and fall, -obedient. But Yama, the Lord of Death, gave two gifts; -and of these the first was to walk steadfastly in the ways of -righteousness; and the second (let it not be despised!) was -to be skilful in preparing food. And in after times by -strange chance did this prove a great and goodly gift.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Thus was the marrying of Nala, King of Men, with Damayanti, -Pearl of Women.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Reverence to that Lord of Elephant Trunk to whom obstacles -are as nothing, and to those Four Shining Ones who -showed compassion, their ears being open to the prayer of -purity.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:1.2em;'>THE HIDDEN ONE</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch5'>THE HIDDEN ONE</h1></div> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>(The heroine of this story was a Princess of the great Mogul dynasty -of Emperors in India. She was granddaughter of Shah-Jahan and the -lovely lady of the Taj Mahal, and daughter of the Emperor Aurungzib -whose fanaticism was the ruin of the dynasty. The Princess’s title was -Zeb-un-Nissa—Glory of Women. She was beautiful and was and is a -famous poet in India, writing under the pen-name of Makhfi—the Hidden -One. Her love adventures were such as I relate, though I have taken the -liberty of transferring the fate of one lover to another.</span></p> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>For her poems, which I quote, I use the charming translations by -J. Duncan Westbrook, who has written a brief memoir of this fascinating -Princess. She was a mystic of the Sufi order and her verses “The Hunter -of the Soul,” which I give, strangely anticipate Francis Thompson’s -“Hound of Heaven”, in their imagery. The poems not specified as hers -are a part of my story.)</span></p> - -<p class='pindent'>The office of hakim (physician) to the Mogul Emperors -being hereditary in my family from the days of Babar the -conquering Emperor, I was appointed physician to the Padshah -known as Shah-Jahan, and when his Majesty became -a Resident in Paradise (may his tomb be sanctified!) my office -was continued by his Majesty Aurungzib, the Shahinshah, -and rooms were bestowed on me in his palace, and by -his abundant favour the health of the Begams (queens) in -the seclusion of his mahal was placed in the hands of this -suppliant and I came and went freely in my duties and was -enlightened by the rays of his magnanimity. And my name -is Abul Qasim.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But of all that garden of flowers, the Begams and Princesses, -there was one whom my soul loved as a father loves -his child, for she resembled that loveliest of all sweet ladies, -her father’s mother, she who lies buried by Jumna River in -the divine white beauty of the Taj Mahal. (May it be -sanctified to her rest!) In my Princess’s sisters, it is true I -have seen a flash now and again of that lost beauty, but in -her it abode steadfast as a moon that knows no change and -at her birth she received the name of Arjemand after that -beloved lady, whose death clouded the universe so that its -chronogram gives the one word “Grief.” But the child -also received the title of Zeb-un-Nissa—Glory of Women, -and such this resplendent Princess most truly was.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And surely the prayer for resemblance was granted by the -bounty of Allah, for she grew into womanhood dark, delicious -as a damask rose, enfolding the hidden heart of its -perfume in velvet leaves, a soft luxuriant beauty that stole -upon the heart like a blossom-bearing breeze and conquered -it insensibly. Of her might it be said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“For the mole upon thy cheek would I give the cities of -Samarkand and Bokhara,” and a poet of Persia, catching a -glimpse of her as she walked in her garden, cried aloud in an -ecstasy of verse:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“O golden zone that circles the Universe of Beauty,</p> -<p class='line0'>It were little to give the earth itself for what thou circlest.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>Yet, this surprising loveliness was the least of her perfections.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But how shall this suppliant who is but a man describe -the spell of her charm? Allah, when he made man and -laid the world at his feet, resolved that one thing should be -hidden from his understanding, that still for all his knowledge -he should own there is but one Searcher of Secrets. -And the heart of this mystery is woman, and if she be called -the other half of man it is only as the moon reflects the -glory of her lord the sun in brilliance, though (as a wise -Hindu pandit told me for truth) she has a cold and dark -side which is always unknown to him, where alone she revolves -thoughts silent, cold, and dangerous. Therefore to -sift her in her secrecies is a foolhardy thing, and not in vain -is it written by Aflatoun (Plato), the wise man of Greece, -that the unhappy man who surprised a goddess bathing in -the forest was rent in pieces by his own hounds.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yet this feat must be attempted for if there is a thing it -concerns man to know it is the soul of this fair mystery who -moves beside him and surrenders Heaven to him in a first -kiss and the bitterness of the hells in a last embrace.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Therefore I essay the history of this Princess, the Glory of -Women, who was an epitome of her sex in that she was beautiful, -a dreamer, a poet, and on the surface sweet in gentleness -as a summer river kissing its banks in flowing, but beneath——</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I write.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Seeing her intelligence clear as a sword of Azerbajan, her -exalted father resolved that his jewel should not be dulled -by lack of polishing and cutting, and he appointed the wise -lady Miyabai to be her first teacher. At the age of seven -she knew the Koran by heart, and in her honour a mighty -feast was made for the army and for the poor. As she grew, -aged and saintly tutors were appointed, from whom she -absorbed Arabic, mathematics and astronomy, as a rose -drinks rain. No subject eluded her swift mind, no toil -wearied her. Verses she wrote with careless ease in the -foreign tongue of Arabia, but hearing from an Arab scholar -that in a single line the exquisite skill betrayed an Indian -idiom, she discarded it instantly because she would have perfection -and wrote henceforward in her own tongue—Persian.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>No pains were spared upon this jewel, for the Emperor -desired that its radiance should be splendid throughout Asia, -yet her limit was drawn, and sharply. For in her young -pride of learning she began a commentary on the holy Koran, -and hearing this, he sternly forbade it. A woman might -do much in her own sphere, he wrote, but such a creature -of dust may not handle the Divine.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I, Abul Qasim, was with her when the imperial order -reached her and saw her take the fair manuscript and obediently -tear it across, desiring that the rent leaves be offered -to the Shadow of God in token of obedience. But those -dark and dangerous eyes of hers were not obedient beneath -the veiling of silken lashes, and turning to me, to whom she -told her royal heart, she said;</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What the hand may not write the heart may think, and in -the heart is no Emperor. It is free,” and leaning from the -marble casement she looked down into the gliding river and -said no more.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yet the Emperor made amends, and noble, as far as his -light led him. Not for a woman the mysteries of the faith -of Islam that he held of all things the greatest, but, fired -by the praises of her tutors, he sent throughout India, Persia -and Kashmir for poets worthy of this poet-Princess and -bid them come to Delhi and Agra and there dwell that a fitting -company be made for her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So, veiled like the moon in clouds, curtained and attended, -the Princess Arjemand was permitted to be present at tournaments -in the palace where the weapons were the wit and -beauty of words, when quotations and questions were flung -about as it might be handsful of stars, and a line given -be capped with some perfect finish of the moment’s prompting -and become a couplet unsurpassable, and very often it -was the soft voice from behind the golden veil that capped -the wisest and completed the most exquisite, and recited -verses that brought exclamations from the assembled poets.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Not even Saadi (may Allah enlighten him!) nor Jalalu’d-din -Rumi (may his eyes be gladdened in Paradise) excelled -this lady in the perfumed honey of their words.” So with -one voice they cried.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And this was not homage to the daughter of the Protector -of the Universe. No indeed! for death has not washed out -her name with the cold waters of oblivion and now that she -is no more beautiful nor daughter of the Emperor her verse -is still repeated where the poets and saints meet in concourse.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It will be seen that her life in the Begam Mahal (the Palace -of the Queens) must needs be lonely, for there was none -among the princesses who shared her pleasures, and their -recreation in languidly watching the dancers or buying jewels -and embroideries and devouring sweetmeats wearied her as -sorely. But she had one friend, Imami, daughter of Arshad -Beg Khan, and this creature of mortality who writes these -words was also accounted her friend though unworthy to be -the ground whereon she set her little foot.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Day after day did the Lady Arjemand with Imami write -and study, and the librarians of the Emperor had little peace -because of the demand of these ladies for the glorious manuscripts -and books collected by her ancestors from all parts -of the earth.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They sat and the walls echoed to the low note of her voice -as she read and recited and so beautiful were the tones of -my Princess that I have seen the water stand in the eyes of -those who heard her recite her own verses or those of the -great Persians. It was a noble instrument ranging from the -deepest notes of passion to the keen cry of despair, and I -would listen unwearied while the day trod its blossomed way -from dawn to sunset in the Palace gardens. Great and wonderful -was this new palace of the Emperor with tall lilies inlaid -in the pure marble in stones so precious that they might -have been the bosom adornments of some lesser beauty. -Palms in great vases brought by the merchants of Cathay -made a green shade and coolness for two fountains—the -one of the pure waters of the canal, the other of rose-water, -and they plashed beside a miniature lake of fretted marble -rocks sunk in the floor where white lotuses slept in the twilight -of the calm retreat. Such was the chamber of the -daughter of the Padshah.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But of all the jewels the Princess was the glory.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Surely with small pains may the Great Mogul’s daughter -be a beauty, but had she been sold naked in the common -market-place this lady had brought a royal price.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Toorki and Persian and Indian blood mingled in her and -each gave of its best. The silken dark hair braided about -her head was an imperial crown. From the well-beloved -lady who lies in the Taj Mahal (may Allah make fragrant -her memory), she had received eyes whose glance of slow -sweetness no man, not even the men of her own blood (excepting -only her stern father), could resist, and of her rose-red -lips half sensuous, half child-like, might it be said</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Their honey was set as a snare and my heart a wandering bee,</p> -<p class='line0'>Clung and could not be satisfied, tasted and returned home never more.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>The imperial Mogul women were indeed the jewels of the -world, because the beauties of Asia were chosen to be their -mothers. The net of the Emperors swept wide, and I, who -in virtue of my age and faithful service have seen, testify -that there was none like them, and the loveliest of all was -fit but to serve my Princess kneeling. Shall not the truth -be told? Of the soul within that delicious shrine her deeds -must tell.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now as I have written she sat with Imami by the little -lake, and I in a marble recess by one of the great latticed -windows that looks down on Jumna river and on the other -side over the city of Shahjahanabad, new and luminous in -magnificence. In all the world else are no such palace and -city. At this moment she read aloud a letter from her -father Aurungzib concerning the memoirs of her ancestor the -Emperor Babar who founded their dynasty in India, a book -written by his own hand and religiously preserved in the -Mogul archives, and she read it with anger because when -she demanded this book from the librarian, the Padshah -hearing wrote thus:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Happy Daughter of Sovereignty. There is one manner -of life for men, who are the rulers, and for women, who are -the slaves. It seems you go too far. What has a daughter -of our House to do with our ancestor Zah-r-ud-din Muhammed -Babar, the resident in Paradise? I have granted much -already. Plant not the herb of regret in the garden of affection. -He writes as a man for men. The request is refused. -Recall the verse of the poet:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“ ‘Ride slowly and humbly, and not in hurrying pride</p> -<p class='line0'>For o’er the dusty bones of men, the creature of dust must ride.’</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“What an Emperor writes is not suitable for the Princesses -of his House. His duty is rule; theirs, obedience.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was a discouragement but a command, and another had -laid the finger of obedience on the lips of silence, but, taking -counsel with her heart, this Princess did not so.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She called to me for her pen and wrote in answer:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Exalted Emperor, Shahinshah, Shadow of God, King of -the world, Refuge of the needy, father of the body of this -creature of mortality, be pleased to hear this ignorant one’s -supplication. Surely you have fed my mind on the bee’s-bread -of wisdom, and from your own royal lips have I learnt -that the words of our ancestor (upon whom be the Peace!) -are full of flavour and laughter, generous and kind, shining -with honour and the valour of our family. Now, since this -is the root whence sprang your auspicious Majesty’s rule, -should not a humble daughter triumph in it? True is it -that I am your female slave, yet may this worthless body -bear one day a son to transmit your likeness to the prostrate -ages, and since we do not breed lions from lambs, his -mother should carry the laughter and fire of her race like a -jewel in the mine of her soul. I make my petition to the -Padshah, the holiest of Emperors.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It will be granted me,” said the Princess reading these -letters aloud to Imami and to me, “because of that last word—the -holiest. He values that title more than to be called -the Shahinshah. And with all my heart I would it were -otherwise.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And why, high Lady?” cried Imami in sheer astonishment. -“Surely the Padshah is a saint and his deeds and -words will shine in Paradise. It is blessed to be devout.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I know little of Paradise, but I know, and my father -might know if he studied the life of Akbar the Great, his -great-grandfather, that to be so bitter a saint in our Mohammedan -faith that he insults and persecutes every other -is to break our dynasty to powder. Consider of it, Imami, -as I do. Have you read the Acts of Akbar Padshah the -greatest sovereign that ever reigned? Were I emperor in -India thus and thus I would do.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Glory of Women, may your condescension increase! -What did Akbar Padshah?” said Imami, joining her hands, -but I said nothing because I knew.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Though he was born Moslem yet he honoured all the -Faiths, knowing in his wisdom that the music is One and -the dogmas but the foolish words that man in his ignorance -sets to it. All faiths are true, and none!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The blood almost fell from my face as I heard her, because -had these words been carried to the Emperor not even -her rank, not even her daughterhood, could have saved the -Princess. With Imami and me she was safe, but in a palace -a bird of the air may carry the matter.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes!” she went on, laughing coldly, “Akbar Padshah -had in all ways the tastes of Solomon the Wise and his Begam -Mahal (Palace of the Queens) was a garden of beauty. -But observe! The Queens were chosen from every faith -and each had the right to worship as she would. There were -Indian princesses who adored Shiva the Great God and -Krishna the Beloved. There was the Fair Persian who worshipped -the Fire as Zoroaster taught, and there were ladies -of the faith of our Prophet more than can be counted. -Whereas in the zenana of my imperial father——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She paused, and Imami continued with gravity that concealed -a smile:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The Begams recite the holy Koran all day, as becomes -the ladies of the Emperor who says that he sighs for the life -of a faquir.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And would he had it!” cried the Princess with passion, -“for every day discontent grows among the Hindus that are -taxed, beaten, and despised only because they hold the faith -of their fathers. Is there one of them employed about the -court or in the great offices? Not any. Whereas the Emperor -Akbar in his deep wisdom made them as one with ourselves -and thus built up a mighty Empire that my father -with holy hands destroys daily.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“O Brilliant Lady, for the sake of the Prophet, be silent!” -I said, for indeed she terrified me by her insight. It is better -for a woman that she should not know, or, knowing, keep -silence. “If these words were carried to the Padshah——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I should at the least be imprisoned and never more see -the light of day— Well, one may be a devotee out of the -Faith as in it, and like Akbar Padshah, I am the devotee of -Truth who shuts her fair eyes on no faith that men hold -in humbleness of heart. And were it policy only, is it not -madness to disgust and terrify the countless millions of the -Hindus upon whom our throne is carried? The end is -sure.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What is the end?” asked Imami in a whisper.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Misery for himself—though that matters little, for he -will take it as the robe of martyrdom from the hand of Allah, -but ruin for the Mogul Empire in India. O that I were -a man!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Her face lit up into such pride and valour as she spoke -that I wished it also, for I knew that her words were true as -truth. But in India a woman can do nothing. It is little -wonder I trembled for my Princess.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A picture of her Imperial father lay on the low table at -her elbow, painted by a Persian artist of fame, and beautiful -as a jewel in its small brilliant colours, and looking upon it -one might see the Kismet of the Emperor in every feature. -Eyes stern but sad, the narrow brows and close lips of the -man who sees not life as it is but as his own thought of it, -bounded by those high narrow brows that overweighted the -lower part. The head of the Emperor was surrounded like -that of a saint with a golden halo and his stern eyes were -fixed on some vision invisible to others. The jaw was weak -but fine, and of all dangerous things on earth beware the -strength of a weak man in the grip of his belief. The Princess -looked at it, and then at me:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The Emperor (may Allah enlarge his reign) should have -lived in the time of the Prophet and have been the Sword in -his right hand. He is born centuries too late. It is policy -now that carries all before it. O could I speak my mind to -him, for my brothers dare not, but he and I are worlds apart -and in his presence I am silent.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I sighed. Not his throne, nor his children, nor his women, -nor aught on earth weighed for one grain of sand against -the Pearl of the Faith. True is it that the Emperor Akbar -followed the Vision also but with eyes how wide and clear!—knowing -this for certain, that mortal man <span class='it'>cannot</span> know, -that Truth is a bird flying in the skies and lets fall but a -feather to earth here and there. So he made for himself a -faith that held the quintessence of all the faiths, and had -his sons been like to him—but past is past. They were not, -and they broke his great heart.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So I said, bowing very low:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Princess, when the happy day comes that you must wed -you shall make your lord Lord of the World with your wisdom.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She laughed, but bitterly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“O, I have lovers! For one, Suleiman, my cousin, son -of the brother whom the Emperor slew because he stood too -near the throne. By report I knew what he was, but I saw -him and spoke with him——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My Princess, and how?” I asked in great surprise, knowing -that his presence in the Begam Mahal would have been -death.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She looked at me with large calm eyes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My faithful servant, have you come and gone so long -about the Begam Mahal and have not known that all things -are possible? Prince Suleiman was veiled like a woman, -and like a woman he stood where you sit, and I saw his face -and we spoke together. Should not cousins meet who may -be man and wife? And I have loved his father, Prince -Dara, very much, who was learned and good.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I trembled again when I heard, for had the Emperor -guessed that she had done this thing what hope for her? -His three brothers had he slaughtered, and the Prince Suleiman -was doomed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And he saw your face, O Brilliant Lady?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No, and not for fear’s sake but because I liked him not at -all. He said ‘O Envy of the Moon, lift up your veil that I -may enjoy the marvel of your beauty’ and I sang this verse -I had made to my lute.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She caught up her lute that lay beside her and sang,</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“I will not lift my Veil,</p> -<p class='line0'>For if I did, who knows?</p> -<p class='line0'>The bulbul might forget the rose,</p> -<p class='line0'>The Brahman worshipper</p> -<p class='line0'>Adoring Lakshmi’s grace</p> -<p class='line0'>Might turn, forsaking her,</p> -<p class='line0'>  To see my face;</p> -<p class='line0'>My beauty might prevail.</p> -<p class='line0'>Think how within the flower</p> -<p class='line0'>Hidden as in a bower</p> -<p class='line0'>Her fragrant soul must be,</p> -<p class='line0'>And none can look on it.</p> -<p class='line0'>So me the world shall see</p> -<p class='line0'>Only within the verses I have writ.</p> -<p class='line0'>  I will not lift the Veil.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“And the fool caught me and would have torn it,” she -added, “but Imami restrained him, and he flung from us like -a woman in temper as in dress. A contemptible creature!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But Lady of Beauty, what had you against him?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Do I not know all that goes on in this city? Do I not -know that Prince Suleiman spends his days and nights in -Shaitanpur (Devilsville, the quarter of pleasure) and was -I to show my face to a man reeking from the embraces of the -bazaar? No, I am Makhfi (the Hidden One) and hidden I -will remain for such as he. I will be no rival to Peri Mahal -the dancer and her like.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And even as she ended a low voice at the curtain that -veiled the entrance asked for admission and when she granted -it, the heavy silk was drawn aside and a tall veiled woman -entered. The Princess did not look up but I saw Imami’s -eyes fix as if startled.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Her slave prays for a word with the Marvel of the Age -whose mind is so lovely that it outshines even her fair face -and her face so beautiful, that it is the lamp that permits the -light of her soul to shine through.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Warm for a woman!” said the Princess, and looked -straight at the new-comer who stood salaaming with the -utmost humility. She added impatiently:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There is no need of this ceremony, lady. Remove your -veil. The good physician Abul Qasim is privileged to see -the faces of all in the Begam Mahal.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In a flash the veil was torn off and a man’s face appeared -beneath it—young, bold, and handsome with the high features -of the Imperial House, a splendid dissolute young man -with the down black on his upper lip like the black astride -the young swan’s bill. Prince Suleiman, the son of Dara -the Emperor’s brother.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ha, daughter of my uncle!” he cried,— “Did I not wager, -did I not swear, that I would see that hidden beauty -and now I see it face to face. Poets have sung it and painters -praised it, but their words and their colours were lies for -they could not utter the truth. And having seen I entreat -for my father’s sake, for love’s sake, that it may be mine.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He made towards her eagerly, wholly disregarding Imami -and me. I looked to see her confused or angry, but she -spoke with a most misleading calm.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Exalted cousin, you have won your wager and your -bride. If her embrace is cold it is at least constant and——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Cold, with those burning lips of rose, those glowing eyes? -O Loveliest, Divinest, grant me one kiss for earnest if you -would not have me die at your feet.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I saw her sign with her hand to Imami who glided away, -flattening herself against the wall as if terrified, then she -spoke serenely.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Exalted cousin, when were you last in Shaitanpur?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It stopped him like a lightning flash. He stood arrested -on the marble before her face.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I know nothing of Shaitanpur,” he said, breathless.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No? Nor of the dancer Peri Mahal and her house with -the courtyard of roses, nor of the song she sings?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Again she caught up her lute and sang in a low voice,</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Black bee, strong bee, the honey-eater,</p> -<p class='line0'>Plunder my perfume, seek my heart</p> -<p class='line0'>Cling to me, ravage me, make me sweeter,</p> -<p class='line0'>Tear the leaves of the rose apart.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>He stared, his eyes slowly dilating. That the daughter -of the Emperor should sing the song of the bazaar—the song -of the light women—! Then it emboldened him. He -threw himself forward to seize her hand.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Maker of verses, this is a rose of your own garden. Till -now I never heard it, but it speaks of love. You shall not -ask me twice. My rose, my pearl, my star!—” He caught -the hem of her veil. Now I knew well from her eyes that -he rushed on his fate, but it was written in the book of his -destiny and what is written who can avert?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She drew back a little and looked at him with soft eyes—wells -of delicious darkness, the swelling curves of her -lovely form a temptation for true believers, and her lips -smiling a little as if from delight at their own sweetness. -And indeed her voice was gentle as moonbeams and as caressing, -as though she could sacrifice all to please the man -whom she exalted with the sight of her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Fortunate cousin, I am a weak woman. How dare I -face the wrath of the Emperor? He did not love your father. -He does not love your father’s son, yet if he did——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She drooped her head a little as if with a soft shame that -overwhelmed her in the depths of modesty. O very woman, -divine yet a child!— She had turned wisdom into folly -with a glance. And he trembling, and with eyes fixed, -stammered out:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Alas, I have dreamed of your sweetness and what is the -dream to the truth? I am drowned in it. O give it to -me; make it mine that in life and death it may enfold me and -that I may never again behold a lesser light, having seen -the ineffable.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he caught her hand passionately and drew her towards -him, she yielding gently and slowly, resisting a very -little, and looking at him as if with compassion.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And very softly in a voice like the breathing of a flute she -said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“O my cousin, how should we face the wrath of the Emperor?” -as though all her soul were in that question.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he, kissing her hands with frenzy, said in broken -words:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ah, Moon of my delight that knows no wane, let me but -watch with you through the starry hours of one night, and -then, then if the Padshah’s will be to slay me, I shall at least -have lived.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And I also,” she said, looking down like the feminine -incarnation of modesty, so that enraptured he flung his arms -about the yielding softness of her most exquisite form and -kissed her on the lips as a thirsty man in the desert grasps -the cup nor can sever his mouth from it. And when he -would permit her to speak she leaned her head backward to -gain space, and she said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What is my lord’s will with his slave? And in what -shall I obey him?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now I, standing in the recess would have warned him, if -I could, that not thus—O not thus, does the proudest and -wisest of women abandon herself to such as he! For I had -pity on his youth and the manly beauty of him, and the -Imperial blood that he shared with her. But who was this -creature of dust to obstruct the design of the Imperial Princess? -And indeed even I wavered and was uncertain that -I guessed her meaning, with such veiled submissive sweetness -did she hold his hand in hers and touch it to her lovely -brows.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And trembling like a man in a fever, he replied.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“O darling little slave, since you give me the right to command -what is wholly mine, I say this— Let my slave, whose -slave I am, expect me to-night when the moonlight touches -the western corner of the Divan-i-Am, and I will come to -this chamber of bliss, and my life, my soul, are in the hand -of my slave whose feet I kiss.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And throwing himself on the marble like a worshipper he -kissed the flower-soft feet that showed like bare gold beneath -the hem of her robe, and so rising to his knee, looked -up at her as an idolater at the goddess vouchsafed to his -eyes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But she looked beyond him at the curtain that veiled the -door. It lifted to a hidden hand, and Imami stood there, -ash-pale, in her hand a dish of gold, and standing upon it a -great goblet of jewelled glass with pomegranate sherbet -brimming in it rose-red and rose-petals floating on the surface -and beside it two cups of gold flashing with diamond -sparks, and on her knee she offered it to the Princess, who -took the goblet and a cup smiling.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Fortunate cousin, since this is so, and I, my father’s best-beloved -child, will petition him to grant me my heart’s desire, -let us drink the cup of betrothal in the presence of the Hakim -Abul Qasim and the lady Imami. Heart of my heart, -I pledge you!” and setting the blossom of her lips to the -jewelled rim she drank, and filled the other cup for him, and -still kneeling before her breathless with adoration, he took -the cup in both his hands, and I watched and could say no -word because her purpose was clear to me and I knew well -that of all women on earth she was the last to endure the -insult of his presence. And Imami knelt by the door,—her -face like ivory against the heavy gold curtain. Now, as he -set his lips to the cup, suddenly Imami sprang to her feet -and tottered back against the sculptured marble and with -scarce breath to fill her voice——</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The Emperor comes,” she said, and fell again on her -knees at the door, hiding her face in her hands.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I saw the sickening terror that struck the colour from the -cheeks and lips of the lover. He knelt there with a glassy -countenance like a man in the clutch of a nightmare who -cannot flee from the advancing doom—his limbs weighted -with lead, his heart with the pressure of an exceeding horror. -But Glory of Women caught him by the hand.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Exalted cousin, there is but one way from these rooms, -and the Emperor closes it. Fly to the room beyond my -bed-chamber, the room of the marble bath, and hide where -you can while I hold him in talk. Allah hafiz! (God protect -you!) Go!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And she pushed him from her, and he fled. Then, most -singular to see, she composed her veil, glancing in the mirror -set in silver that was the gift of the Portuguese priests, -and turned to the door, and as she did so the curtain was -lifted and Aurungzib Padshah entered and Imami prostrated -herself and I also, but the Princess Arjemand knelt.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now I know not how this should be, but in a room where -great events have just happened it is as if the waves of passion -beat about the walls and waft the garments of those -who have been present, and it seemed to my guilty heart as -though the very flowers enamelled on the marble cried -aloud,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Majesty, there is a man—a man in hiding.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And certainly the Padshah halted and looked with suspicion -from one to the other of us. He was ever a man of suspicion, -unlike the easy humour of his father Shah-Jahan, and -the half drunken good-nature (shot with frightful angers) of -his grandfather Jahangir. Aurungzib Padshah was a small -man, dark exceedingly, with veiled eyes and shut lips, and -never have I seen him warmed by any emotion of love, pity, -fear, but always calm, cold, self-collected and austere. For -it is well known that his only care was religion, and to this -he sacrificed his all.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So looking hard at the kneeling Glory of Women he said -coldly,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In the name of the most beneficent and merciful God, -what is this disturbance? Speak, exalted daughter, Princess -of the family of chastity. It is revealed to this suppliant -at the throne of Allah that there is a hidden thing in -these chambers. Speak. What is it?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And kneeling, my Princess answered.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“May joy attend my exalted father, the adorner of the -gardens of happiness, the decorator of the rose-parterre of -enjoyment! There is but one hidden thing in these chambers, -and it is your unworthy daughter, who is known by -your august favour as Makhfi, the Hidden One.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I saw the eyes of the Padshah fix on the golden dish that -lay on the marble with one cup emptied of the pomegranate -sherbet and the other half emptied, the sherbet running in a -red stream like blood along the marble.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“This was set down in haste!” he said through clipped -lips.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In haste, O Glory of Allah!” said the Princess with the -wet beads clamming the silken tendrils on her forehead. -“I drank and was about to drink the second when your -auspicious feet blessed the threshold.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You are thirsty, happy daughter of sovereignty? Then -drink the remainder. You have my permission.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I saw the gleam in either black eye of him as he spoke, -watching her sidelong. She lifted the cup to her lips with -a hand that shook so that it rattled against her teeth, though -she struggled to command herself.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No, do not drink, royal daughter. It is stale,” he said, -still standing and smiling coldly. And the Princess answered -with quivering lips:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Will not the Mirror of God be seated and partake of refreshment -offered by the hand of his slave?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Not of that cup and not until I have observed your -embroideries and manuscripts, daughter of high dignity,” -the Padshah replied, and followed by my Princess, Imami -still kneeling by the door, and I by the latticed marble window -he walked about the hall and into the chambers beyond, -talking pleasantly to the Princess at his shoulder, -and so returning took his seat on the divan, and she served -sherbets and fruits on a golden dish to his Majesty.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He was later to attend the Am-Khas, the Hall of Audience, -and was attired kingly. His vest was of white and delicately -flowered satin, with heavy silk and gold embroidery. -His cloth-of-gold turban was aigretted with diamonds great -as stars, with a topaz at the base that shone like the sun. -A chain of great pearls hung to his knees, and above all these -jewels was his cold repelling dignity as of a King too great -to be approached even by the favourite child of his pride, -and all the time he sat she knelt before him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At length he spoke as if in meditation.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Glory of Women, you have grown into beauty like that -of the Maids of Paradise. Your long lashes need no antimony, -your eyes are winter stars, and in that robe of gulnar -(pomegranate blossom) you appear like that princess -who bewildered the senses of the mighty Suleiman. [I saw -a quiver pass over her features as she bowed her head beneath -the weight of praise.] Does not the rose long for the -nightingale? Does not your heart, exalted daughter, turn -to love?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And with her eyes on the ground, she answered.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Exhibitor of Perfection, my heart is set on far other -matters. If in this land of good fortune I be remembered -as a poet, I ask no more of destiny save that the rank of -the daughter of Emperors be attached to my name for -ever.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is well. Yet marriage must be considered. Fortunate -daughter, have you bathed to-day?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And she, deadly pale.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Shadow of the benignity of the Creator, no.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And with set lips he called to Imami by the door.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Hasten, lady, and light the fire beneath the great vessel -of water in the bathing room of the Begam, and I will remain -in discourse with her until it is ready.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Imami casting a fearful glance on the kneeling -Princess moved slowly to the inner chamber, and it is the -truth that my soul sickened within me, for though I knew -the young man worthless, and the son of a dangerous father, -yet who could bear this without terror of spirit? And the -Emperor, laying aside his awful Majesty, made his presence -sweet as sunshine in the great chamber of marble, saying:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Exalted daughter, it is but seldom we have leisure to -relax, and yet the olfactory of my soul inhales with delight -the ambergris-perfumed breezes of affection and concord, -and daily if it were possible would I enjoy them. Yes, even -when absent—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“ ‘I sit beside thee in thought, and my heart is at ease,</p> -<p class='line0'>For that is a union not followed by separation’s pain.’</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is in my mind to move with my ladies and the living -family of dignity and glory to reside for a time at Lahore, -and we shall then be more together, partaking of the irrigation -of the rivers of affection.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Great father, you promise me a joy to increase health -and exalt happiness.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She swayed as she knelt, and leaned against the divan -with closed eyes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Exalted father, the perfume of flowers and of the rose-water -fountain have given me a faintness. May I retire -for a moment with the hakim Abul Qasim to my inner -chamber lest I fall at your feet?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is granted, Glory of Women, and the lady Imami shall -recite to me your latest verses until you return.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I came forward making the salutation, and helped the -Princess to rise, she leaning on my aged arm, and the lady -Imami took her place unrolling a manuscript of verses -splendid with Persian illuminations in blue and gold. The -Emperor composed himself to listen with pleasure, for it is -well known that all the sovereigns of that mighty line were -skilled in versifying and just critics of <span class='it'>ghazal</span> and <span class='it'>suja</span>.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And as we moved forward, I supporting her, the Princess -breathed in my ear:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I meant his death, but Allah knowing my heart knows -I am innocent of this hideous thing. O Abul Qasim, father -of my soul, is there aid in earth or heaven?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But what could I say? Only the Great Physician of the -Hidden Dispensary could assist that unfortunate. And -meanwhile the sweet voice of the lady Imami read aloud the -verses of the Princess.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“O love, I am thy thrall.</p> -<p class='line0'>As on the tulip’s burning petal glows</p> -<p class='line0'>A spot yet more intense, of deeper dye,</p> -<p class='line0'>So in my heart a flower of passion blows,</p> -<p class='line0'>See the dark stain of its intensity</p> -<p class='line0'>  Deeper than all.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>And then we lost the words as we moved into the inner -chamber.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now this inner chamber was all of pearl-pure marble, and -in the midst a deeply sunk bath of marble long and wide -and with its walls decorated with lotuses and their leaves, -and a silver pipe led the water to this from a mighty silver -vessel six feet and more in height and of great capacity, -supported on a tripod of sculptured silver, and below it a -place for fire, enclosed and fed with sweet-scented woods and -balls of perfume made of rare gums. And, O Allah most -Merciful, there the lady Imami had kindled fire by command -of the Emperor, and within might be seen the brilliant blue -flame licking up the perfumes and crawling like snakes -about the cedar wood below the vessel. And certainly I -looked that the Princess should do some desperate deed for -the enlargement of the man most miserable hidden within -the vessel, and releasing her I stood like a graven image of -terror, expecting what she would do.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She laid her hand on the silver, and amid the crackling of -the flames she said in a clear small voice:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You came unsought. You violated the secrecy of the -Hidden One. What then is your duty, exalted cousin?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And from within he spoke in a voice—O Allah, most compassionate, -grant that I may never hear such again!—the -one word:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Silence.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And she:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is true. Keep silence if you are my true lover, -for the sake of my honour. For if your voice is heard I am -a dead woman. But I too will be faithful to death.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he answered:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“On my head and eyes.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And by her command I gave her water to drink and applied -an essence to her nostrils, and we left the room, pulling -the heavy curtains before it, and we returned to where the -Padshah sat with the pale lady Imami reading aloud and he -smiling in calm content. Seeing us return, he motioned my -Princess to a seat on the divan saying:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I would hear your verses of ‘The Lover.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What is the fate of a lover? It is to be crucified for the -world’s pleasure.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And taking the manuscript from the hands of Imami she -read aloud:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Dust falls within the cup of Kaikobad</p> -<p class='line0'>And King Jamshid,</p> -<p class='line0'>Nor recks the world if they were sad or glad,</p> -<p class='line0'>Or what they did.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“How many hearts, O Love, thy sword hath slain</p> -<p class='line0'>And yet will slay!</p> -<p class='line0'>They bless thee, nor to Allah they complain</p> -<p class='line0'>At Judgment Day.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>And so read on steadfastly for the space of an hour, until -the Padshah, replete with the sweetness of the melody, rose -from the divan, and said graciously:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“May the tree of hereditary affection watered by this hour -of converse grow in leaf and fruit and overshadow us both -in peace. Go now, exalted daughter, and bathe your angelic -person and rest with a soul sunned in the favour of the -Emperor.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he went, we attending him to the door of the secluded -chambers, and when we returned, the Princess lay in -a dead faint on the divan, and the fire beneath the great -vessel of silver was red and silent, and within was silence -also.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The courage of Babar the gallant and Akbar the greatly -dreaming was not dead in their descendant and thus in a -great self-sacrifice he became a traveller on the road of -non-existence, and I wept for him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So the Court moved to Lahore.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But after this on my Princess came a change hard to be -told.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She had despised the Prince alive. For his death she -loved him, and with a poet’s passion and tenderness mingled -with a woman’s. Her sole relief was in solitude, pouring -forth the burning thoughts wherein the phoenix of her -soul was consumed in perfumed flame which will forever -kindle the heart of man to like ecstasies.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Great Princes sought her, among them Akil Khan, a most -beautiful young man, aglow with courage and splendour. -He had seen her, dreaming on the roof of her pavilion in the -dawn, pensive and lovely, clothed in dawn-colour, her long -hair braided with pearls falling about her, and mad with -love, he sent her this one line, awaiting completion:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A vision in crimson appears on the roof of the Palace.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Kneeling, I implored her to give him some solace,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“For O, Light of my soul,” said I, “the years drift by -like leaves, and shall this miracle of beauty and of intelligence -clear as diamonds lead its graces to the grave and -leave the world no copy? My Princess, my Princess, have -pity on your youth! True, the high Prince died a hero for -the sake of a lady’s honour, yet remember that until then the -soul of him was at home in Devilsville, and not in the rose-gardens -of Allah. You have mourned him long enough: -awake now to joy.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But she put it gently aside, saying:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The soul washed in the lustration of death is pure. -What is Shaitanpur to him now? He has forgotten it. -And shall I who accepted the sacrifice, forget? O, that -I had not failed in courage—that I had died with him! -Give me the paper of Akil Khan.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And considering the line he had written—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A vision in crimson appears on the roof of the Palace,” -she wrote beneath it this line completing the couplet:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Neither supplications nor force nor gold can win her.” -And so returned it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yet, gallant man as he was, this did not stifle his hope, -and knowing that in her garden at Lahore she was building -a noble marble pavilion, he entered the garden one day disguising -his princeliness under the garment of a mason, -carrying his hod on his shoulder, and passed where she stood -apart watching her girls who were playing at chausar.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And as he drew near he whispered,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In my longing for thee I have become as dust wandering -round the earth,” and she whose soul was fixed as a lonely -star, responded immediately,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“If thou hadst become as the wind yet shouldst thou not -touch a tress of my hair.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So it was always. An embassage was sent from the -Shah Abbas of Persia entreating her hand for Mirza Farukh -his son, and the Prince came with it, a gallant wooer. She -dared not at once refuse the insistence of her father Aurungzib -Padshah, and consented that he should come to Delhi -that she might judge of his worthiness. And with a glorious -retinue resembling a galaxy of stars he came, and she -feasted the prince in the pleasure-pavilion in her own garden, -and in its marble colonnade with her own fair hand -offered him wine and sweetmeats, but veiled in gold gauze, -so that not one glimpse had he of the hidden eyes. And -exalted with wine and folly he asked for a certain sweetmeat -in words which by a laughing play on words signify—a -kiss!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>This, to the proudest of women! One moment she -paused and then haughtily,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ask for what you desire from the slaves of our kitchen,” -and so went straight to her royal father and told him that -though face and jewels were well enough, the man had the -soul of a groom under his turban of honour, and she would -have none of him. She had her royal way.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Raging with foiled pride and desire he sent her this -verse,</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“I am determined never to leave this temple.</p> -<p class='line0'>Here will I bow my head, here will I prostrate myself.</p> -<p class='line0'>Here will I serve, and here alone is happiness.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>But he beat against marble, for she returned this answer -only:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Child, how lightly dost thou esteem this game of love!</p> -<p class='line0'>Nothing dost thou know of the fever of longing and the fire of separation, and the burning flame of love!”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>Alas, her heart knew them too well!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So he went away despairing and that was the last of her -suitors.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Very sad grew my Princess. The dead have more power -than the living, and the clutch of a dead hand chills the -blood. She had the soul of a mystic and in her poems -desire for the Eternal Beloved was mingled with love of -him who was now also behind the Veil of non-existence, and -I know not which was more in her thoughts when she wrote -with tears that fall and falling gather,</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“O idle arms,</p> -<p class='line0'>Never the lost Beloved have ye caressed:</p> -<p class='line0'>Better that ye were broken than like this</p> -<p class='line0'>Empty and cold eternally to rest.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“O useless eyes,</p> -<p class='line0'>Never the lost Beloved for all these years</p> -<p class='line0'>Have ye beheld: better that ye were blind</p> -<p class='line0'>Than dimmed thus by my unavailing tears.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“O fading rose,</p> -<p class='line0'>Dying unseen as hidden thou wert born:</p> -<p class='line0'>So my heart’s blossom fallen in the dust</p> -<p class='line0'>Was ne’er ordained his turban to adorn.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>Very strange is the heart of a woman! I, remembering -her scorn for this very Prince and her will to slay him with -her own hand, could not at all commend nor comprehend -her passion for him dead whom living she trod as the dust -beneath her feet. She permitted my speech gently, but -would reply only,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He loved me and gave his life for me.” And I venturing -to rejoin,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But O exalted Lady, men will give their lives for a little -thing, a jewel, a worthless intrigue, the slaying of a tiger, -and is his sacrifice worth such a return as yours?” she replied -with calm; “Greater love hath no man than in silence -to lay down his life uncheered by commendation or -the joy of battle, and to him I swore fidelity. Should I -change? In his death was the high heart that in life would -have grown to glory—and I broke it.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And I said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is greater love to live for a woman than to die for her -and this he could never have done, for his profligacy and -selfishness would have swept all love to ruin,”—and she, -smiling, put this by, as one who has attained in her own -heart to behold the innermost secrets of love. And which -of us was right I cannot now tell.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But as love rose about her like a tide her thoughts turned -more and more to the Supreme, the Self-Existent,—and this -love also consumed her for He wounded her heart with the -august secrets of His beauty, and perceiving in vision wafts -of His sweetness she sank into a deep melancholy, desiring -that to which no earthly passion may attain. So in this -poem she beheld Him as the Hunter of the Soul:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“I have no peace, the quarry I, a Hunter chases me,</p> -<p class='line0'>  It is Thy memory.</p> -<p class='line0'>I turn to flee but fall: for over me He casts His snare,</p> -<p class='line0'>  His perfumed hair,</p> -<p class='line0'>Who can escape Thy chain? no heart is free</p> -<p class='line0'>  From love of Thee.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>So passioning for the Divine she spent her days in longing, -and a great wisdom came upon her, for even as her mighty -father narrowed in vision, persecuting the Hindus, and -breaking the very Empire against the rock of their tortured -faith, so she like the sun at setting illumined all beliefs, even -the lowliest, with her level rays, declaring that where any -prayer is made that place is the mosque and the Kiblah.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Had that lady been Emperor it is not too much to say -she had saved the Empire. Would to Allah that she had -been. But He knows all.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yet a better fate was decreed for her for she lived, exhaling -love as the lily its perfume, and departed in a white -peace, a gently fading light like the cresset that for a little -illumines the quiet of a tomb, and this she said in dying,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I am the daughter of a King but I have taken the path -of renunciation, and this shall be my glory, as my title signifies -that I am the Glory of Women.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>This she is, for in India she is remembered by all who -burn in the fire of love, human or divine.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yet, since she was a woman and therefore a creature of -unreason, must I condemn her passion for the worthless -prince to whom her royal life was dedicate.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And here I set down the last words that Makhfi—the Hidden -One—wrote with her dying hand, and they were these—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Yet, Makhfi, unveiled is thy secret,</p> -<p class='line0'>Abroad all thy passion be told,</p> -<p class='line0'>Who saw not the beauty of Yusuf</p> -<p class='line0'>When he in the market was sold.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>and as she lived she died, lamenting that too late she had -known his hidden heart.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>When she was departed a poet of Persia made these -verses of her: concerning the serenity of her spirit:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Love sings to himself of love and the worlds dance to that music,</p> -<p class='line0'>As wise snakes dance to the Charmer playing upon his pipe,</p> -<p class='line0'>Love gazes on deep waters for ever dreaming his face.</p> -<p class='line0'>Slay all my senses but hearing that I may immortally listen.</p> -<p class='line0'>Calm every wave of my soul that it may mirror the Dream.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>And her father the Emperor, grieving, made her a glorious -tomb of marble domed and pinnacled with gold and the -tower and minars roofed with turquoise tiles. Nay, the -very sand of the paths was dust of turquoises, and about it a -glorious garden where her sweet spirit might gladden to -dream in the moonlight, her griefs forgotten, her joys completed -in the ecstasy of union with the One, the Alone.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And yet—yet—thus wrote my Princess:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“If on the Day of Reckoning</p> -<p class='line0'>God saith, ‘In due proportion I will pay</p> -<p class='line0'>And recompense thee for thy suffering.’</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Lo, all the joys of heaven it would outweigh.</p> -<p class='line0'>Were all God’s gladness poured upon me, yet</p> -<p class='line0'>  He would be in my debt.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>May the lights of Allah be her testimony and make bright -her tomb.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For I loved her, and pray that her memory may be fragrant -when I am dust.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And very strange and secret is the heart of a woman.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:1.2em;'>THE MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch6'>THE MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS</h1></div> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>(Salutation to the Elephant-Headed God, who is the Remover of Obstacles -and the Giver of discretion, and may he enable his worshipper the -Pandit Gurdit Singh to relate this story with well-chosen words and harmonious -periods that so it may enchain the hearts of all.)</span></p> - -<p class='pindent'>Of all the lands that smile upon their lover the sun, surely -the land of Kashmir is the loveliest. All round that Valley -of Beauty the mountains stand like the guardians of a great -Queen. No harsh winds may ruffle the lakes, darkly blue as -the eyes of the goddess Shri, where the lotuses dream above -their mirrored images in amazement at their own divinity, -for the shields of the eternal snows piercing even the heavens -turn aside all tempests and only a sweet and calm sunshine -makes the air milk-warm.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And because the beauty that surrounds them is absorbed -by the princesses of Kashmir until they become like the -slender-waisted beauties of the ancient poems and stories -of India, radiant as the sun, fair as the full moon mirrored -in a lake dreaming of her own beauty, so are they eagerly -sought by all the Kings from North to South, and great -dowries are given for them with jewels piled high like grain -in harvest, and elephants and garments with beaten gold -laid on them such as would dazzle the eyes of the Queens of -other countries. And nothing is too much to give for their -seductive beauties.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now, at one time the King of Kashmir had a daughter, his -only one,—more exquisite than dawn blushing on the snows. -She had stolen the hue of her eyes from the blue of the lotus -of the hidden lakes, and the delicate shaping of her face was -high craftsmanship of high Gods at the work they love best. -And down to the ankle rolled her midnight hair, braided -and jewelled, and Love’s own honey made her mouth a -world’s wonder of rose and pearl,—and the curves of her -sweet body were rounded as the snowdrifts of Mount Haramoukh -and as pure. And even this was not all, for what -is a flower without scent and beauty without charm? But -grace went beside her like an attendant, and attraction that -none could resist was in her glance, and whoso escaped the -lure of her eyes would assuredly fall a victim to the seduction -of her sweet laughter so that only in the protection of -the Gods was there safety, and it is known that even the -Gods cease their vigilance where a beautiful woman is concerned -and forget their divinity.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now this Princess Amra loved above all things the gardens -of her royal father, and it was her custom, forsaking -the Palace, to come for days with her women to the gardens -by the lake, dwelling in the Pavilion of the Painted Flowers -and passing the days in singing and feasting, wandering beneath -the shade of the mighty chinar trees and breathing the -perfume of flowers and the coolness of the high snows.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So on a certain day she and her ladies wandered through -the roses in beauty so exquisite that the flowers swayed to -behold them and the very waters of the cascades delayed -to kiss their feet, and as they did this there came a message -from the King her father that he had betrothed her to marry -the King of Jamu, and the marriage would take place in the -marriage month according to the auspicious calculations of -the astrologers. And hearing this, the Princess stopped in -terror beside the water that falls over the ripple of cut marble, -and she said to her women:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“O sorrowful day! O fears that beset my heart! I who -have never seen any man save my auspicious father and -brothers and the old grey-beard, the Pundit Ram Lal,—what -a fate is this! What do I know of men? How shall -I learn? O, my misery!”—and she sat herself beneath the -shade of a great chinar tree, and became inconsolable, weeping -bitterly, and her women wept with her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So passed an hour, and at last her confidante, Lailela, a -girl from Bokhara, having dried her eyes began to look -about her, and she saw that with the written command of -the King had come a small object folded in rose silk and -bound with threads of gold, and with the insatiable curiosity -of a woman she said to the weeping Princess:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Great Lady, here is a something—I do not know what, -but I guess it to be a bridal gift from his Majesty.” And the -Princess took it in her hands and her ladies gathered about -her as stars surround the moon, and with her slender fingers -and nails like little pearls she unthreaded the knots of gold -and the inner treasure was disclosed, and it was a frame of -gold filagreed and set with rubies and diamond sparks, and -within it the portrait of a young man, and written on the -back of it: “The King of Jamu.” The artist, whose skill -resembled that of the Creator, had depicted him seated on -his throne of ivory inlaid with gold, and in his turban blazed -that great jewel known as the Sea of Splendour, but these -did not for one moment detain the eye, for he was himself -the jewel of Kings, young, noble, dark of hair and eyes, with -amorous lips, proud yet gentle, and a throat like the column -that upholds the world, and limbs shaped for height and -strength and speed. And surely had he been a water-carrier, -men had said, “This is the son of a King.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And as the Princess Amra looked she sighed and changed -colour, and the last tear fell from her long lashes upon the -portrait, and she dried it with her gold-bordered veil, and -looked and sighed again, and lost in thought she fell into a -deep silence.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Lailela said with sympathy:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Surely a terrible doom, O Princess! Now had the King -been an old man, kind and paternal, it would but have been -passing from the arms of one father to another. But a -young man— O, there is much to fear, and who shall sound -the deeps of their hearts?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the Princess slowly shook her head, not knowing -what she did, still gazing at the portrait, and Lailela continued:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Little do we all know men. But I have been told it is -safer to adventure in a jungle of tigers than to take a husband -knowing nothing of their wiles and tyrannies, and it -is now my counsel that we should all declare before the -Princess any small knowledge that has reached us, that she -may not go forth utterly unarmed.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And all the ladies looked doubtfully at one another, and -the Princess smiled faintly as a moon in clouds, and said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Sisters, it is my command that you do as Lailela has said, -for her counsel is good, and she herself shall begin, for I -perceive there is knowledge behind her lips. Let all now -prepare to listen, for we speak of love.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And she laid the portrait on her knees, and Lailela with -laughter in her long eyes but a great gravity of speech, told -this story:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Now, Princess, this is one of the parables that the Sheikh -Ibrahim related to his daughter, the Lady Budoor, that she -might be admonished. For the damsel was the temptation -of the Age, with heavy hips, and brows like the new moon, -and a mouth like the seal of Suleiman, so that the reason of -whoso saw her was captivated by her elegance. But she -spoke little, or of trivial matters, and smiled not at all, relying -on her beauty, which, indeed, was the perfection of the -Creator’s handiwork. May his name be exalted! And her -father accosted her, saying:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Know, O daughter, that Shah Salim had five thousand -wives and concubines of perfect loveliness, with languishing -looks, high-bosomed, and of equal age, a delight to beholders -such as astonished the mind. But the King was wearied -because of the dullness of their society and it so befell that -he yawned repeatedly and his jaw became fixed with the -violence of his yawns, nor could the art of the <span class='it'>hakims</span> unloose -it. And the Queens and the concubines slapped their -faces for grief, and the Emirs trembled because of the case -of the King.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Now it chanced that the King of Seljuk sent unto Shah -Salim a slave girl from Tabriz, and the merchant who conducted -her bore this message, written on ivory, bound with -floss silk, and perfumed with ambergris: “Know, O King of -the Age, that the perfume is not to be judged by the jar, nor -the jewel by its weight, for the perfume is the soul of the -rose, and the secret of the jewel is its fire. Receive, therefore -this gift according to the measure of thy wisdom.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘But the Shah-in-Shah, speaking with difficulty, for his -jaw was held as in a vise, commanded, saying; “Enclose her -with the Queens and the concubines, for they have brought -me to this, and the sum of my wisdom and experience is -that they are all alike, and whoso knows one, knows all. -Yet, first let me behold her, since she is the gift of a King.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘And they unveiled the damsel, and behold! she was slender -as a willow branch, low-bosomed, green-eyed, and her -hair was like beaten bronze, nor could she for beauty compare -with the wives of the King, so that the beholders marvelled -at the gift of the King of Seljuk.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘And she looked upon the King, and, seeing his case, she -closed her eyes until they shone like slits of emerald and -laughed aloud until the Hall of Requests echoed with her -laughter, and her voice was like the flute and such as would -bewilder the reason of the sages and cause the ascetic to -stumble in his righteousness, and she could narrate stories -like those of the Sultana Shahrazad (upon whom be the -Peace!), and her effrontery was as the effrontery of the -donkey-boys of Damascus. For there is none greater. -Nor did she fear the Shah-in-Shah before whom all abased -themselves.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘So she seated herself before the Wonder of the Age, and, -casting down her eyes, the damsel related to him the true -story of the Adventure of the Lady Amine and the Sage El -Kooz. And the heart of the Shah was dilated and he laughed -until there was no strength left in him, and the <span class='it'>hakims</span> -thumped his back, fearing that life itself would depart from -him in the violence of his laughter. And his jaw instantly -relaxed. So being recovered, he commanded saying: -“Bring hither the artificers of gold and let them make a chain -that shall bind the waist of this slave to my wrist, for where -I go she shall go, that my soul may be comforted by her -narratives and the sweetness of her laughter. For this truly -is a gift worthy of a king. But place guards at the doors -of the others.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘And after consideration and counsel with his Wazir he -bestowed upon the Queens great gifts and returned them to -their parents. And there was a great calm. And he became -distracted with love for this slave and they continued -in prosperity and affection until visited by the Terminator -of Delights and Separator of Companions.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Extolled be He whom the vicissitudes of time change not -and who is alone distinguished by the attributes of Perfection!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Now this is a parable, my daughter, of the secrets of the -hearts of men, and I will relate others that thou mayest be -admonished.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And the Lady Budoor answered modestly: ‘Speak on, -my father, I listen.’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And when Lailela had finished this story she resumed her -seat, and the ladies reflected deeply, and the Princess said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“This must undoubtedly be true. As a man no longer observes -an object which he sees daily, so must it be with a -man and the beauty of his wife. Clearly it is not enough -to be beautiful even as a Dancer of Heaven. It is also needful -to be a provoker of laughter. Would that I knew the -stories of this slave . . . Sisters, have they been heard by -any of you? What is beauty, when the beautiful are forsaken -or die? But tell me.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And now Vasuki, a lady of the Rajputs, stepped forward -in all the insolence of beauty, swaying her hips, and rearing -her head like a Queen as she came, and she began thus:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Princess, of my heart, let none tempt you to undervalue -the gift of loveliness by which even the greatest of the -Gods are subjected as my story will declare. And let it be -remembered that if even a man weary of his wife’s beauty—there -are yet other men in the world, and what though our -faith forbid marriage there are other faiths. And, if this -be impossible, a woman can always be captured if so she -will! And I would have you recall the story of the Rani -of Mundore who being left a widow was captured by a great -King and ruled him and his Kingdom. But hear my story -of why Brahma, a high God of my people, has four faces in -his temple.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In the ancient days in India two evil and terrible brothers -rose to kingly power. They were inseparable as the -Twin Stars, the Aswins, and together they did evil mightily -and in their union was their strength. Finally they formed -plans to storm the lower heavens and expel the Gods and -there was every reason to believe they would carry out this -determination. So the Gods held a great Panchayet (council) -and some said one thing, some another, and at last -Brahma the Creator spoke as follows:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Great Gods and Heavenly Ladies, in the union of these -wretches is their power, because where two perfectly agree -their wisdom is unconquerable. It is only because this has -never been the case on earth that we are able to keep any -sort of order. Now of all influences the most powerful is -love. True it is their palaces are full to over-flowing with -handsome women but we are still the Gods, the makers of -men. Let us take for our model the Goddess of Beauty herself, -and send some exquisite one on earth to distract and divide -the evil kings.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So the flowers of heaven were brought, and the Goddess -of Beauty stood unveiled and divine before them, and from -the ivory of the lotus blossom they made a sweet body, and -from the dark blue lotus they made two dreaming eyes, and -they took the storm cloud for the glooms of her heavy lashes, -and the midnight deeps for the lengths of her silken hair, -and for her smile they took the sunshine and for her blush -the dawn, and for her coquetry the playfulness of the kitten, -and for her seductions the wiles of the serpent, and for -her fidelity—but all their materials were exhausted before -the necessity for this was remembered. And Lakshimi gave -her instead what is invisible but omnipotent, her own charm -which none has ever seen but all the Universe has felt. And -when all was done great Brahma breathed life into the fair -image and she arose and looked down upon her own beauty -with astonishment and in a voice of crystal music she said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I am Tillotama.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And all the Gods stood confounded at their own handiwork -but the Goddesses turned angrily away.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So they commanded her to go to earth and instructed her, -each mighty heart beating with agony that she should go. -And she passed before the Throne of Brahma making a -<span class='it'>pradakshina</span>, a reverential threefold circuit, about him keeping -him always to the right. And he gazed passionately upon -her and she made a turn to the left, and for pride he would -not turn his head, but from the energy of his soul’s longing -another face sprang out on the left side of his head and the -eyes still followed her, and as she made her circuit this again -happened at the back and still he regarded her, and at the -right side also, so that wherever that loveliness went his -eyes fed upon her with more passion than the moon-bird -who steadfastly regards the moon all night. And, Princess, -this is the undoubted reason why the image of Brahma has -ever since had four faces. So she went to earth with ruin -for her dower, and the two evil kings desired her and slew -one another for her possession. And Saraswati, the wife of -Brahma, immediately demanded that their work should be -undone and the fair creature resolved again into the elements -of nature lest the peace of heaven should be broken. -So it was done, but Brahma retains forever his four faces.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Therefore, Princess, if beauty thus subjugates the greatest -of the Gods, what will be the effect of such beauty as -your own upon the heart of the King of Jamu?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Amra clasping her hands, replied:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But this is a terrible story! For if the greatest of the -Gods, who has a glorious Goddess for his wife, be not faithful, -what hope is in men? I grow so terrified that death -itself seems preferable to marriage. Is there no comfort -in any of you?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And now, treading delicately on little bound feet, came -Ying-ning, the fair Chinese maiden from Liang, who had -been presented to the Princess because of her skill in embroidery -and cosmetics. And she saluted humbly, and requested -permission to speak:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Princess, a great lady has last spoken and who am I? -Yet because I tremble to hear her speak of any other than -a husband in the love of a woman, hear me, for of all dangers -the greatest is the jealousy of a husband. And this is -a true story of my country.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There was a very great artificer long, long years ago and -he made an image exactly resembling a man. It was composed -of wood and glue and leather, and sinews of catgut, -and so great was his skill that he made even a heart that beat -and set it in the breast, and the features were exquisitely -painted and it resembled a great Chinese lord, noble and -handsome and able to sing, move, and talk. Finally he -showed it to the King of Liang who was struck dumb at such -handiwork, for it was like the power of the Immortals. And -he said; ‘My Household must certainly view this marvel, -and there can be no objection to this course of conduct since -I have satisfied myself it is but a thing of springs and -leather.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So, on the following day, the artificer brought his image -to the Pepper Chambers, being himself an aged man and in -circumstances which permitted his entry. Being introduced -to the presence of the King, the Queen and the ladies who -rejoiced in the King’s favour, these ladies all stared with -the utmost bewilderment at the handsome young man thus -represented. The artificer touched its chin and it burst into -a love-song most delicately sung in a mellow and manly -voice. It recited a passage from the poets in praise of wine. -It kow-towed before the King. But unluckily, encouraged -by success, the artificer touched its heart, and with the utmost -audacity it gazed upon the ladies and winking one eye, -seized the hand of the loveliest, and placed a sacrilegious -arm about her person, she smiling. A frenzy of passion -swept over the King on seeing this. He shouted for the -death of the artificer, and though the aged man in a terror -instantly rent the image apart into a heap of wood and -leather, he could not be appeased and the unfortunate was -led out and beheaded. Furthermore, he ordered the lady -who had been thus polluted to be instantly strangled because -she had not shrieked on the instant as (he asserted) any -virtuous woman, a stranger to such a contact, must have -done. And in spite of her piteous entreaties she was slaughtered. -Was this reasonable, O my Princess? But be it -known to you that in love and in possession also there is no -reason, and that this is the manner in which all men would -act. And moreover it is their right, and it is entirely just -that even the looks or dreams of a woman should be faithful -to her husband and to him only.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Ying-ning retreated to the circle, and the Princess -wrung her hands and cried:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What then is to become of women if they are thus surrendered -to the mercy of the merciless! I will entreat at -my father’s feet that I may live and die a maid. And I -will——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But she could not continue for the beating of her heart, -and now the little lovely gesang, Pak, from Phyong-yang in -the Land of the Morning Calm, whence come all the fairest -singing girls, moved trembling forward and spoke in a voice -of silver, but so low that the Princess called upon her to -stand at her feet that she might hear. Enclosed in a great -lotus blossom she had been presented to the Princess that -she might cheer her with strange dances from the Korean -land, and she had clapped her hands for joy when the ivory -petals fell apart disclosing the small dancer crouched within. -But the women of the Morning Calm have few words and -all now leaned forward to hear what this silent one might -say.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Great Lady, near my home by the Green Duck River -lived long ago a Yang-ban (noble) who had a beautiful -daughter named Ha. She had a slender throat on which -was set a face most delicately painted and of exquisite -charm, the lips resembling ripe cherries and the eyes of -liquid brilliance. Many marriage enquiries were made, but -her father finally made the choice of a young Yang-ban of -good position named Won Kiun, and on a day of favourable -omens she was borne to his house and became his wife. For -five years they lived together in harmony nor did he spend -his time without the screened apartments, for she could even -play chess and he could converse with her. But alas! she -bore no child and daily did her anguish increase, for she -could hear his sighs because he had no son to perform the -rites for him when his time should come. Still hoping, she -delayed, but this could not last, and on a certain day she -approached him saying:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Lord of my Life, may your worthless wife speak?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He gave permission.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Five years,’ said Ha, ‘have gone by and I have not fulfilled -my duty. It is certainly the evil destiny of your -worthless wife which has caused this. Therefore I say -thus:—I will sell my pins of jade and buy a concubine for -you. Accede to my humble request.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Won Kiun could scarcely hide his astonishment, for -though this was but fulfilling a duty, still it is not common -for a wife to make this offer. But he agreed instantly for -he earnestly desired a son, and after so many years naturally -desired also a change of companionship. Ha therefore made -search and found a girl named A-pao of as much beauty as -the price she could pay would fetch.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It was then that Ha’s sorrows began. She was neglected -by Won Kiun, tormented by A-pao, but enduring in silence -as a wife should, she went about her work with a smile. -But A-pao also failed in her duty for there was no child, and -presently Won Kiun whose health had always been frail, -departed to the ancestral spirits, A-pao shamelessly took -her place in the house of a rich man, and Ha was left a desolate -widow, and the more so because her parents and her -husband’s justly despised her as a barren wife.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But, Princess, mark what followed!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She had placed her husband’s spirit tablet, which contained -his third soul, beside her bed, and before this made -her offerings of bread and wine and prayers for pardon, and -one night when she had wept herself to sleep a strange thing -happened. The tablet moved,—a human figure slowly -emerged from it and stood on the floor, and Ha, with eyes -distended with terror, saw her husband. In the well-remembered -voice he said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I have permission from the Junior Board of the Gods of -Hades to visit you as a reward for my filial merit on earth, -and this in spite of your conduct in that very mistaken business -of A-pao. Had <span class='it'>I</span> been consulted she was by no means -the person I should have chosen. Yet I am come to visit -you and shall do so nightly for a month.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The faithful Ha laid her head on his feet and sobbed for -joy. What a reward! How small now did all her many -sacrifices appear!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“For a month the spirit tablet nightly became her husband, -and on the last day of the month he bid her an eternal farewell, -and the tablet fell to the ground and broke into two -pieces. With tender care she mended it, and set herself to -await the birth of her son.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In due time he was born and her cup of joy would have -run over but that the most shocking rumours were spread -by A-pao and her mother-in-law, and it was believed that -she had grossly dishonoured the fragrant memory of her -husband. Vainly she explained the facts. The only result -was that the magistrate, fearing lest he might possibly -destroy a child of miracle, would not himself put it to death, -but commanded it should be flung to the swine. Marvellous -to tell, the swine, instead of devouring it, kept the child -alive by breathing warmth upon it, and it was then that, -starving for food, and broken-hearted, Ha demanded a test -before the assembled people. It is well known that the -children of the spirits cast no shadow, and the child, before -an immense crowd, with his miserable mother watching from -behind a curtain, was brought into the full sunshine and -held up. To the amazement and fear of all, no shadow was -cast on the earth. To set the matter forever at rest the -spirit tablet was then brought out and a little blood drawn -from the tender arm of the child. This was spread on the -tablet inhabited by the father’s spirit and it instantly sank -in and disappeared, though when spread on another, it rolled -off, leaving no mark. Amid loud shouts the child was pronounced -the true heir of the family. Ha was immediately -pardoned by the parents of Won Kiun and taken into their -favour, being permitted to serve them to the end of their -days, which she did with perfect devotion.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My Princess will see from this true story the great reward -that humility and patience bring to a good wife. It is not -every husband who returns from the Land of the Dead to -bring joy to one in such a lowly position. And though it -is easy to be seen that it was his own transcendent merits -which occasioned this joyful result, without the patience of -Ha the nobility of her husband and his parents could -scarcely have been rewarded. Therefore the duty of a -woman is submission and where this exists all her follies and -faults may be covered as a rich brocade covers a poor divan.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The ladies were silent and the Princess again shook her -head with tears in her eyes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“This is a difficult case,” she said, “and in truth each -seems more alarming than the last. It appears that marriage -is a sea of perils great and terrible, and to escape shipwreck -all but impossible. Possibly if Ha had not bought -the concubine—but have none of my ladies a story of man’s -fidelity? Is such a thing unknown?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And even as she spoke a woman with a face like the dusk -of the evening and eyes as its stars in clouds, broke in upon -her words unmannerly but with such power that all turned -to listen, forgetting even the Presence.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My Princess, my beloved, hear now this last story, for -these women have spoken of little things, but I will speak -of great.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is known to you that when the King Rama ruled in -Kosala and was thence driven for awhile into the wild woods, -there went with him of her own choice and in utter devotion, -his wife, young and lovely and noble, the Queen Sita. And -when he entreated her to leave him because of the horror of -the great woods and the wild beasts, and the evil spirits and -hunger and poverty, she replied only: ‘How should I stay -in the glorious city when my husband is gone? I count all -evils as blessings when I am with him. Without him life -is death. And if my prayer is refused I will enter the fire -and await him in the Paradise to be.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So she followed Rama, clothed in poverty and in the -wood she served him, unfaltering in piety and all wifely duty. -And as the result of this nobility her beauty so grew that -the very Gods, passing on their high errands would pause -for joy to see her perfections.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But on a certain day when the King was absent, the evil -King of Lanka stole this Pearl, hoping to set it in his crown.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Princess, it is not needful to tell the sorrows of Sita, -the temptations she resisted nor the cruelties that could not -break her pure will. Flawless in strength and brightness -as the very spirit of the diamond was her faith. And when -Rama at last, by the aid of the Gods, conquered the evil-doer, -she sat beneath a tree, in poor array, trembling for -joy to think that her head should lie once more upon her -husband’s breast and her ear be gladdened with his praise -for the fight she had fought alone in sorrow.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So she stood before him and he sat upon his victorious -throne and thus he spoke:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Lady, my work is done. I have avenged my honour -and the insult put upon me and my foe is broken. But mistake -me not. It was for no love to you that I fought, but to -uphold the dignity of my race. Your presence now hurts -me as light hurts a diseased eye. Another man has seen -your face unveiled. His hand has touched you. You have -dwelt in his palace. You are no wife of mine. Go where -you will. Do what you will. We are parted.’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>[And the Princess and all the ladies stared with great -eyes to hear what the woman told.]</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And this before a great assembly. So, at first the Queen -wept silently, because this shaft pierced her very heart. -Then, drying her tears, she raised her fair head and answered:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Is all my faithful love forgotten? It was hard for a -weak woman to resist supernatural strength. Yet in all -perils of death and shame I have been utterly chaste in soul -and body, and no evil came near me, for in me there was -none to meet it.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She paused and the King made no answer. And she -said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘If man deserts me the High Gods are faithful. Make -ready the funeral pile. I will not live in this shame.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And it was done;—none daring to look in the King’s face, -and he still silent. . . . So, circling her husband thrice in -farewell reverence, the Queen entered the fire. And even as -the flame lapped her feet, the Great Gods descended in radiant -chariots plumed for the untrodden ways of the air, and -the God of the Fire, who is the Purifier, took her by the hand -and presented her to Rama, saying,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Even as is my white flame purity, so is the purity of -this Queen.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And he accepted her from the God’s hand.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Princess, would not all the world believe that after this -coming of the Gods this King would have honoured his -Queen? Yet no.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He knew her pure, but, since others whispered that another -had seen her face, and who could tell?—again he dismissed -her for in him as in all men, pride was mightier -than love.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And once more, Sita, standing before him and knowing -this the end, made declaration of her chastity that all might -hear. And suddenly transported beyond the weakness of -a woman, she stood as one divine, perfect in high soul and -nobility, and she said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Never has any thought that was not pure and chaste -entered my heart, and as my heart so is my body. This -have I said. And now, I beseech of the Earth, the Great -Goddess, Mother of us all, that she will grant me a refuge, -for I have none other.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And as she spoke these words, a very soft air, laden with -coolness and sacred perfumes, stirred among them, and in -the silence there arose from the earth a Throne and upon -it the Mighty Mother of men and Gods, and she raised the -Queen in her arms and set her upon the Throne that all might -see her throned and glorious. And lo! for a moment she -sat majestic, and the assembly hid their faces, and when -they again raised them all was gone and only the common -day was about them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But the King wept uncomforted knowing that never -again by city or forest might he see that fair face, which being -his own he had cast from him.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the woman paused, and all the ladies cried that this -was the cruellest story of all, demanding that she be dismissed -from the Presence as an offender. But the Princess -sat submerged in thought, and the woman said softly:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My Princess—my beloved,—the Gods rule. In all life is -sorrow, whether in Kashmir or Jamu. But the Gods abide. -In the hollow of Their hand lay this Queen, and in the darkness -the King’s eyes could not pierce They smiled. Certainly -she leaned on Their might and so walked content and -what could man do to her? Fear not, my Princess. The -Gods abide—whether in Kashmir or Jamu, and the earth is -Their footstool. And this being so the life of a woman is -her own, go where she will.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And there fell a great silence and she who said this glided -away and was gone. And presently the Princess rose in the -midst of the women like a Queen, and she spoke:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“This is the truth. Fate is fate and love is love, and -what we do is our own, and not the deeds of another. For -that Queen I do not weep, but for the King who was blind -to her glory. It is the valour of men that sends them forth -to war, and it is the valour of women that puts their hearts -in the hand of their husbands. And to me, since I have -seen this portrait all other things are empty, and if he slay -me still will I love him. For it is the High God, who is -worshipped by many names, who has made the woman for -the man and the man for the woman, and He abides unchanging -in Unity and what He does is better than well.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And as she spoke the colours faded on the mountains -and on the lake the evening came with quiet feet.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.2em;'>THE WISDOM OF THE ORIENT</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:.8em;'>A DIALOGUE AND A STORY</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch7'>THE WISDOM OF THE ORIENT<br/> <br/> <span style='font-size:smaller'>A DIALOGUE AND A STORY</span></h1></div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p class='pindent'>“I believe you take as long to dress as I do,” she said pettishly; -“I call it neither more nor less than poaching when -a man looks so well turned out. And a Poet, too! Well—you -can sit down; I have twenty minutes free.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She was dressed for a bridge party. Dressed—oh, the -tilt of the hat over her delicate little nose; the shadow it -cast over the liquid eyes, ambushing them, as it were, for -the flash and spring upon the victim! But I was no victim—not -I! I knew my young friend too well. She endured -me more or less gladly. I sat at her feet and learned -the ways of the sex, and turned them into verse, or didn’t, -according to the mood of the minute. I had versified her -more than once. She was a rondeau, a triolet, a trill—nothing -more.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Why mayn’t a poet look respectable as well as another?” -I asked, dropping into a chair.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Because it isn’t in the picture. You were much more -effective, you folks, when you went about with long hair, -and scowled, with a finger on your brows. But never -mind—you’ve given us up and we’ve given you up, so it -doesn’t matter what women think of you any more.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You never said a truer word!” I replied, lighting my -cigarette at hers. “The connection between women and -poetry is clean-cut for the time. As for the future—God -knows! You’re not poetic any more. And it’s deuced hard, -for we made you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Nonsense. God made us, they say—or Adam—I never -quite made out which.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It’s a divided responsibility, anyhow. For the Serpent -dressed you. He knew his business there—he knew that -beauty unadorned may do well enough in a walled garden -and with only one to see and no one else to look at. But in -the great world, and with competition—no! And you—you -little fools, you’re undoing all his charitable work and undressing -yourselves again. When I was at the dance the -other night I thirsted for the Serpent to take the floor and -hiss you a lecture on your stupidities.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She pouted: “Stupidities? I’m sure the frocks were -perfectly lovely.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“As far as they went, but they didn’t go nearly far enough -for the Serpent. And believe me, he knows all the tricks -of the trade. He wants mystery—he wants the tremble in -the lips when a man feels—‘I can’t see—I can only guess, -and I guess the Immaculate, the Exquisite—the silent silver -lights and darks undreamed of.’ And you—you go and -strip your backs to the waist and your legs to the knees. -No, believe me, the Dark Continent isn’t large enough; and -when there is nothing left to explore, naturally the explorer -ceases to exist.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I think you’re very impertinent. Look at Inez. Wasn’t -she perfectly lovely? She can wear less than any of us, and -wear it well.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, if you mean that. But -not along the Serpent line of thought. It was mathematical. -I was calculating the chances for and against, all the -time—whether that indiscreet rose-leaf in front would hold -on. Whether the leaf at the back would give. At last I -got to counting. She’s laughing—will it last till I get to -five-and-twenty? thirty? And I held on to the switches to -switch off the light if it gave. The suspense was terrific. -Did she hold together after midnight? I left then.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I won’t tell you. You don’t deserve to hear,” she said -with dignity.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A brief silence.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean by saying you poets made us?” she -began again, pushing the ash-tray toward me.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Well, you know, as a matter of fact people long ago -didn’t believe you had any souls.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Rot!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I shouldn’t think of contradicting you, my dear Joan, -but it’s a fact.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Oh, the Turks, and heathen like that.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Well, no—the Church. The Fathers of the Church, met -in solemn council, remarked you had no souls. It was a -long time ago, however.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“They didn’t!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“They did. They treated you as pretty dangerous little -animals, with snake’s blood in you. Listen to this: -‘Chrysostom’—a very distinguished saint—‘only interpreted -the general sentiment of the Fathers when he pronounced -woman to be a necessary evil, a natural temptation, -a desirable calamity, a domestic peril, a deadly fascination, -a painted ill.’ You see you had found the way to the rouge-box -even then.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I shouldn’t wonder if they were right,” she said, incredibly. -“I’ve often doubted whether I’ve a soul myself. And -I’m sure Inez hasn’t.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I shrugged my shoulders.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“At all events, the poets thought you were not as pretty -without one. We disagreed with the Church. We always -have. So we took you in hand. Your soul was born, my -dear Joan, in Provence, about the year 1100.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She began to be a little interested, but looked at her tiny -watch—grey platinum with a frosty twinkle of diamonds.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Go on. I’ve ten minutes more.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Well—we were sorry for you. We were the Troubadours -of Provence, and we found you kicked into the mud -by the Church, flung out into the world to earn your bread -in various disreputable ways—by marriage, and otherwise. -You simply didn’t exist. We found your beautiful dead -body in the snow and mud. And we picked you up and -warmed you and set you on a throne all gold and jewels. -Virtually, you never breathed until we wrote poems about -you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Jewels! We have always liked jewels,” she sighed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“We gave you a wonderful crown first, all white and shining. -We made you Queen of Heaven, and then even the -Church had to eat humble pie and worship you, for you were -Mary. We did that—we only. But that wasn’t enough. -You opened your eyes, and grew proud and spoiled, and -heaven was by no means enough. You wanted more. You -would be Queen of Earth, too. And we did it! We gave -you a crown of red jewels,—red like heart’s blood,—and we -put a sceptre in your hand, and we fell down and worshipped -you. And you were Venus. And you have been Queen of -Europe and the New World ever since.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Of Europe only? Not of Asia? Why not?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Oh, they are much too old and wise in Asia. They are -much wiser than we. Wiser than the Church. Wiser than -the poets—than any of us.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What do they say?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Well—let’s think. That you have your uses—<span class='it'>uses</span>. -That you are valuable in so far as you bear children and are -obedient to your husbands. That, outside that, your beauty -has its uses also within limits that are rather strictly marked. -That in many rebirths you will develop your soul and be -immortal; if you behave, that is! If not—then who shall -say? But you have your chance all the time. With them -you are neither goddess or fiend. You are just women. -Not even Woman.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What ghastly materialism!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No, no! The happy mean. The perfect wisdom. -Meanwhile, you yourselves are all hunting after the ideals -of the market-place, the platform, the pulpit. I wonder -how many extra rebirths it will cost you! Never mind. -Time is long. The gods are never in a hurry, and you will -arrive even if you only catch the last train.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But this is all fault-finding, and unfair at that. Will -you have the goodness to advise? If we stick on our pedestals, -you all run off to the frivolers. If we frivol, you weep -for the pedestal. What is it you really want? If we knew, -we’d try to deliver the goods, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I’m not!” I said, and reflected. Then, gathering resolution, -“Have you the patience to listen to a story?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“If it’s a good one. How long will it take?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ten minutes. The author is the Serpent.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then I’ll certainly put off Inez for fifteen minutes. -Who’s it about?”—running to the telephone.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Eve, Lilith, Adam.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Who was Lilith?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Adam’s first love.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She sat down, her eyes dancing, her lips demure; the prettiest -combination!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t know he had one. But I might have guessed. -They always have. Go on!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I went on, and this is the story.</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p class='pindent'>“You were speaking of the pedestal. That, of course, -was invented in Eden; for Adam early recognized the convenience -of knowing where to leave your women and be certain -of finding them on your return. So he made the pedestal, -decorated it, burned incense before it, and went away -upon his own occasions; and when Eve had finished her -housekeeping (you may remember, Milton tells us what -good little dinners she provided for Adam), she would look -bored, climb upon the pedestal obediently, and stand there -all day, yawning and wondering what kept him away so -long.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Now, on a memorable day, the Serpent came by, and -stopped and looked up at the Lady of the Garden,—who -naturally assumed a statuesque pose,—and there was joy in -his bright little eyes. But all he said was, ‘May I ask if -you find this amusing?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And Eve replied, ‘No, not at all. But it is the proper -place for a lady.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And the Serpent rejoined: ‘Why?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And Eve reflected and answered: ‘Because Adam says -so.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So the Serpent drew near and whispered in his soft sibilant -voice: ‘Have you ever heard of Lilith? <span class='it'>She</span> does not -stand on a pedestal. She gardens with Adam. To be -frank, she is a cousin of my own.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And this made Eve extremely angry, and she replied -sharply: ‘I don’t know what you mean. He and I are -alone in Eden. There’s no such person as Lilith. You are -only a serpent when all’s said and done. What can you -know?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And the Serpent replied very gently,—and his voice was -as soothing as the murmur of a distant hive of bees,—‘I am -only a Serpent, true! But I have had unusual opportunities -of observation. Come and eat of the Tree of Knowledge -of Good and Evil. Long ages ago I tasted the Fruit. -The savour of my teeth is sweet on it still.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Eve hesitated, and she who hesitates is lost.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I own I should like to know about this Lilith,’ she said. -‘But we were told that fruit is unripe, and I don’t like bitter -things. Is it bitter?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And the Serpent narrowed his eyes until they shone like -slits of emerald.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Sweet!’ he said; ‘come.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So she descended from the pedestal, and, guided by the -Serpent, stood before that wondrous Tree where every apple -shines like a star among its cloudy leaves. And she plucked -one, and, tasting it, flung the rest angrily at the Serpent, because -it was still a little unripe; and having tasted the Fruit -Forbidden, she returned to the pedestal, pondering, with the -strangest new thoughts quickening in her brain.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“If Adam noticed anything when he came back that evening, -it was only that Eve was a little more silent than usual, -and forgot to ask if the thornless roses were striking root. -She was thinking deeply, but there were serious gaps in her -knowledge.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The first result of her partial enlightenment was that, -though she now only used the pedestal as a clothes-peg and -spent all her spare time in stalking Adam and Lilith, she always -scrambled up in hot haste when he returned. He could -be certain of finding her there when he expected to, and he -made a point of that because, as he said,—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘No truly nice woman would ever want to leave it and -go wandering about the Garden. It does not do for a respectable -woman to be seen speaking even to an Archangel -nowadays, so often does the Devil assume the form of an -Angel of Light. You never can tell. And besides, there is -always the Serpent, who, in my opinion, should never have -been admitted.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Eve said nothing, which was becoming a habit. She only -folded her little hands meekly and accepted the homage -paid to the pedestal with perfect gravity and decorum. He -never suspected until much later that she knew what a comparatively -interesting time Lilith was having, and had indeed -called on that lady at the other end of the Garden, with -friendly results. She was well aware that Lilith’s footing -on the garden paths was much more slippery and unsafe -than her own on the pedestal. Still, there were particulars -which she felt would be useful.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“When Adam realized the facts, he realized also that he -was face to face with a political crisis of the first magnitude. -If they fraternized, those two, of such different characters -and antecedents, there was nothing they could not know—nothing -they might not do! The pedestal was rocking to its -very foundation. The gardening with Lilith must end. -She would demand recognition; Eve would demand freedom. -It might mean a conspiracy—a boycott. What was there -it might not mean? He scarcely dared to think. Eden -was crumbling about him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It was a desperate emergency, and as he sat with a racking -head, wishing them both in—Paradise, the Serpent happened -along.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Surely you look a little harassed,’ he said, stopping.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Adam groaned.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Is it as bad as all that?’ the Serpent asked, sympathetically.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Worse.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘What have they been at?’ asked the Serpent.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘They each know too much, and they will soon know -more,’ he rejoined gloomily. ‘Knowledge is as infectious -as potato blight.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The Serpent replied with alacrity: ‘In this dreadful -situation you must know most. It is the only remedy. -Come and eat at once of the Fruit of the Tree. I have never -understood why you did not do that the moment the Rib -took shape.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And Adam, like Eve asked: ‘Is it sweet?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So the Serpent narrowed his eyes till they shone like slits -of ruby, and said, ‘Bitter, but appetizing. Come.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And Adam replied: ‘I like bitters before dinner.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“We all know what happened then; with the one exception -that, as a matter of fact, he found the apple a little overripe, -too sweet, even cloying; and not even swallowing what -he had tasted, he threw the rest away.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is just as well to have this version, for it must have -been always perfectly clear that Eve, having tasted the apple -and thus acquired a certain amount of wisdom, could never -have desired to share it with Adam. [“I have thought that -myself,” murmured Joan.] No, it was the Serpent’s doing -in both cases; though naturally Adam blamed Eve when the -question was raised, for she had begun it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But what was the result? Well, there were several. It -has, of course, been a trial of wits between Adam, Eve, and -Lilith ever since. But, in tasting, he had learned one maxim -which the Romans thought they invented thousands of years -later. It flashed into his mind one day, when he saw the -two gathering roses together and found his dinner was half -an hour late in consequence. It was simply this: Divide -and Rule. Combined, he could never manage them; the -sceptre was daily slipping from his hand. Divided, he -could. So he put the maxim in practice and sowed division -and distrust between Eve and Lilith. They ceased to visit -each other, and were cuts when they met. And, naturally, -after the Eviction the meetings ceased entirely.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You will have understood before this, my dear Joan, that -Adam was the first mortal to realize the value of competition. -He now became the object of spirited competition between -the two. Each in her own way outbid the other to -secure his regard. Eve’s domestic virtues grew oppressive; -Lilith’s recklessness alarming. And it will readily be seen -why women have pursued men, rather than the other way -over, as we see it in the lower walks of creation.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Don’t prose,” said Joan. “What happened?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Well, in the last few years, the Serpent, who is always -upsetting things, happened along again, and found Eve -balancing in extreme discomfort on the pedestal, and -Lilith resting, exhausted, after a particularly hard day’s -pursuit of Adam. And between them was a wall of icy -silence.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He paused and said with his usual courtesy, ‘Ladies, you -both seem fatigued. Is it permitted to ask the reason?’ -And his voice had all the murmuring of all the doves of -Arcady.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And Lilith replied angrily: ‘I’m sick of hunting Adam. -I always catch him and always know I shall. And he wants -to be caught, and yet insists on being hunted before he gives -me the rewards. Who can keep up any interest in a game -like that? If it were not for Eve, who would take up the -running if I dropped it, he might go to Gehenna for me!’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Oh, how true! I like Lilith best!” whispered Joan. -She was not smoking now.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Strong, but pardonable,’ said the Serpent. ‘And you, -dear Lady?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And Eve, casting a jealous scowl at Lilith, replied: ‘I’m -weary of this abominable pedestal. If you had stood on it -off and on for five thousand years, you would realize the -cramp it means in the knees. But I daren’t get off, for -Adam says no truly nice woman ever would leave it, and it -pleases him. If it were not for Lilith, who would be upon -it in two seconds, I should be off it in less. And then where -should I be? She <span class='it'>will</span> go on hunting him, and of course he -must have quiet at home.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘And you <span class='it'>will</span> go on standing on your imbecile pedestal, -and of course such boredom makes him restless abroad,’ retorted -the other.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In the momentary silence that ensued, the Serpent looked -up at Lilith and narrowed his eyes till they shone like slits -of amethyst.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘My cousin,’ he said, ‘our family was old when Adam -was created. He is poor game.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Nobody knows that better than I,’ said Lilith tartly. -‘What do you suppose I hunt him for?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘What, indeed!’ said the Serpent, hissing softly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Because of Eve—that only!’ she flashed at him. ‘She -never shall triumph over me. And what there is to give, -he has.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He turned to Eve, narrowing his eyes till they shone like -slits of fire.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘And you stand cramped on this pedestal, beloved Lady?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Because of Lilith—that only! She, at all events, shall -not have him. And think of his morals!’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>(“Aha!” said Joan, with intense conviction.)</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The Serpent mused and curved his shining head toward -Eve.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘If you will allow me to say so, I have always regretted -that you never finished that apple, and that my cousin Lilith -has never tasted it at all,’ he murmured. ‘A little knowledge -is a dangerous thing, as certain also of your own poets -have said.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I have sometimes thought so, too,’ Eve replied mournfully; -‘and there is a word that now and then flashes across -my brain like an echo from the past, but I can never quite -recall it. It might explain matters. Still, it is no use talking. -That apple rotted long ago, and if the Tree is still -growing, which I doubt, there is always a guard of flying -infantry at the Gate. It is easier to get out than in where -Eden is concerned.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The Serpent smiled blandly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘You have evidently forgotten that, by arrangement with -the Governing Body, I have always free ingress and egress. -Look here!’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He unfolded his iridescent coils, and there lay within -them—shining, mystic, wonderful, against his velvet bloom—two -Apples.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There was no hesitation, for each was equally weary of -Adam’s requirements; and, snatching each an Apple, they -ate.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But the Fruit has grown bitter since the days of the -Garden. There is nothing so bitter as knowledge. Their -lips were wried, and the tears came, and still they ate until -not an atom remained. The Serpent watched. For a moment -each stared upon the other, trembling like a snared -bird, wild thoughts coming and going in the eyes of the -Barren Woman and the Mother of all Living. Then Eve -stretched out her arms, and Lilith flung herself into them, -and they clung together, weeping.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And the Serpent opened his eyes until they shone like -sun, moon, and stars all melted into one; and he said, ‘Ladies, -the word you are seeking is, I think, <span class='it'>Combination</span>.’ -And smiling subtly, he went away.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So Eve descended from her pedestal and trampled it; and -Lilith broke the rod of her evil enchantments; and they -walked hand in hand, blessing the world.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Adam meanwhile was shooting,—big game, little game,—and, -amid the pressure of such important matters, never -paid any attention to this trifle. But this was the beginning -of what will be the biggest trade-union the world will -ever see. All the women who matter will be within it, and -the black-legs outside will be the women who don’t count. -So now you see why men will not much longer have a run -(literally) for their money. Adam may have to put up -with it, for he never ate the Apple as Eve and Lilith have -done, and therefore does not know so much about the things -of real importance. Unless indeed the Serpent— But we -won’t think of that until it happens.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Now, my dear Joan, whether all this is a good or a bad -thing, who can tell? The Serpent undoubtedly shuffled the -cards; and who the Serpent is and what are his intentions, -are certainly open questions. Some believe him to be the -Devil, but the minority think his true name is Wisdom. All -one really can say is that the future lies on the knees of the -gods, and that among all men the Snake is the symbol of -Knowledge, and is therefore surrounded with fear and -hatred.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Now that’s the story, and don’t you think there’s a kind -of moral?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I waited for a comment. Joan was in deep meditation.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Do you know,” she said slowly, “it’s the truest thing I -ever heard. It’s as true as taxes. But where do <span class='it'>you</span> come -in?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I wasn’t thinking of us,” I said hurriedly. “I merely -meant—if you wished to be more attractive——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Attractive!”—with her little nose in the air. “I guess -it’s you that will have to worry about your attractions, if -that comes along. I won’t waste any more time on you to-day. -I’ve got to think this out, and talk it out, too, with -Inez and Janet.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She rose and began to pull on her gloves, but absently.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I felt exactly like a man who has set a time-fuse in a -powder magazine. The Serpent himself must have possessed -me when I introduced his wisdom to a head cram-full -of it already.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It’s the merest nonsense, Joan. It isn’t in the Talmud. -The Serpent never thought of it. I made it all up.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You couldn’t. It isn’t in you. Or, if you did, it was an -inspiration from on high.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“From below,” I said weakly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She smiled to herself—a dangerous smile.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I must go. And you really were a little less dull than -usual. Come again on Tuesday. The moral of it all is, so -far, that the poets are really worth cultivating. I will begin -with you!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She flashed away like a humming bird, and I retired, to -read my Schopenhauer. But the serious question is—shall -I go on Tuesday?</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.2em;'>STATELY JULIA</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:.8em;'>A STORY OF ENCHANTMENTS</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch8'>STATELY JULIA<br/> <br/> <span style='font-size:smaller'>A STORY OF ENCHANTMENTS</span></h1></div> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>(A letter from Mr. Amyand Tylliol to his friend, Mr. Endymion Porter -at the Court of his Majesty, King Charles the First.)</span></p> - -<p class='pindent'>To my kind and constant friend, that lover of the Muses, -Mr. Endymion Porter, to whose understanding heart all -confidences may be carried, these presents to bring my news.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Since you marvel at the delay of your humble servant -needs must I tell you of a singular hap which hath befallen. -Yet no hurt, therefore be not distrest, for all is well. And -truth it is that I have met a most ingenious gentleman, and -this is the marrow of what I would say.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For, prospering in my journey, I did reach Exeter, and -there in the shadow of the Cathedral Church, transacted -my affair with Mr. Delander as foreseen. And a right fair -and noble church it is, rich beyond imagining with images -of kings and bishops, queens and holy martyrs.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>From Mr. Stephen Delander (who quarters the arms of -Tylliol with his own from an alliance in the days of Queen -Elizabeth of blessed memory, and therefore calls cousin with -me) have I received most hospitable entertainment, and -noble conversation enriched with such sparkling gems of -poesy and rhetoric as cannot be told in words. And hence -is he become my singular good friend and as such to be remembered -and cherished. His house lies in the Cathedral -precincts and is by all the city known as Domus Domini, -the Lord’s House, since it belonged to the foundation of -the Cathedral in days now like to be forgot.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And ’tis a house delightful to the fancy, in a very small -garden set with a few sombre trees, enlightened with clove-gilly -flowers and roses, and box hedges with winding walks -among the turf. Within, deep-windowed, with grave and -handsome plenishing and great store of books clothing the -walls, and all of a sober discretion that bespeaks a gentleman -of lineage and parts. And over it towers the cathedral -church the which (looking upward) appears to swim in the -blue as though native to the skies, and sheds from its mighty -bells a voice of warning over the clustering city with every -passing hour, for a <span class='it'>memento mori</span>.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A place indeed for the feeding of pensive musing and the -relishing of the fair-zoned Muses even as in the groves of -Academe.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So, business concluded, ’twas the habit of Mr. Delander -and myself to sit in the oriel commanding the cathedral and -to hold sweet discourse, with a flagon of right Canary between -us, and from one of these exchanges sprang my delay.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For he, talking of the writing of the rare Master Ben -Jonson, spoke as follows:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A poet indeed, but sure Mr. Tylliol, being a lover of -verse and a trafficker in its niceties, knows we have here in -this rude Devonshire a poet—nay, what say I?—<span class='it'>the</span> poet -of women and flowers and elves that skip by moonlight, -with like delights of the phantasy, such as rare Ben or even -the rarer Master Shakespeare cannot excel?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Lord, sir!” says I. “I stand amazed. I knew it not. -Who may the gentleman be?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I would not have you think,” he responded, “that this -gentleman hath the choir note of our young Milton, nor -yet the plenteous invention of Will Shakespeare. ’Tis a -country Muse, but exquisite. A muse withal that hath been -to town and drest her lovely limbs in lawns and silks, and -wears pomander beads in her bosom. A Muse whose blush -is claret and cream commingled. And as I said, exquisite. -A voice of Castaly.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And what does the gentleman in the wilds and what is -he?” asked I, a-tip-toe with curiosity, for well you know my -passion for these rarities. And hastily I added:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Hath your honour any taste or relish of his verse at hand -to whet my appetite? For with poetry as with manners—from -one can all be told.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He mused a moment smiling, then recited thus:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>          <span style='font-size:smaller'>“TO A LADY SINGING</span></p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“So smooth, so sweet, so silvery is thy voice</p> -<p class='line0'>As, could they hear, the damned would make no noise,</p> -<p class='line0'>But listen to thee walking in thy chamber,</p> -<p class='line0'>Melting melodious words to lutes of amber.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“O rare!” cried I, clapping my hands. “A right music, -like drops of honey distilling from the comb. Was this a -happy chance, or may the gentleman summon the delicate -Ariel when he will?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He smiled, indulgent:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Since you compare the lines with honey, hear yet again.” -I sat elate.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“As Julia once a-sleeping lay</p> -<p class='line0'>It chanced a bee did fly that way.</p> -<p class='line0'>For some rich flower he took the lip</p> -<p class='line0'>Of Julia, and began to sip.</p> -<p class='line0'>But when he felt he sucked from thence</p> -<p class='line0'>Honey (and in the quintessence)</p> -<p class='line0'>He drank so much he scarce could stir</p> -<p class='line0'>And Julia took the pilferer!</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Sweet Lady-flower, I never brought</p> -<p class='line0'>Hither the least one thieving thought.</p> -<p class='line0'>But taking those rare lips of yours</p> -<p class='line0'>For some fresh fragrant luscious flowers,</p> -<p class='line0'>I thought I there might take a taste</p> -<p class='line0'>Where so much sirop ran to waste.</p> -<p class='line0'>Besides, know this,—‘I never sting</p> -<p class='line0'>The flower that gives me nourishing.’</p> -<p class='line0'>This said, he laid his little scrip</p> -<p class='line0'>Of honey ’fore her Ladyship,</p> -<p class='line0'>And told her (as some tears did fall)</p> -<p class='line0'>That this he took and that was all.</p> -<p class='line0'>At which she smiled and bade him go</p> -<p class='line0'>And take his bag; but this much know</p> -<p class='line0'>When next he came a-pilfering so,</p> -<p class='line0'>He should from her full lips derive</p> -<p class='line0'>Honey enough to fill his hive.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ’Tis a pure seed-pearl,” said I. “Small but Orient. -And now, Mr. Delander my worthy friend, tell me where -hides this shepherd of the enchanted pipe, for if, as you say, -in Devon, then Devon I will not quit till with these tickling -ears have I listened to his sweet pipings. And if Julia be his -neighbour, as we may suppose— O, sir, speak by the cards -and tell me true!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There is,” he responded, “in this His Majesty’s shire -of Devon, a very savage forest, yet with no trees,—known -as the Forest of Dartmoor. And well may I call it savage, -for there do savages harbour that would make as little to -slit a man’s throat and cast him in a slough as I to toss this -nut-shell. Of the roads to these parts, least said soonest -mended—sooner indeed than they. But know that around -this execrable miscreant of a Dartmoor lie little lovely villages -full of a sweet civility of flowers and hives of bees, -and kine and pretty maids to milk ’em. And above all -there is one called Dean Prior and of this the spiritual shepherd -is Mr. Robert Herrick.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Sure his crook is wreathed with roses and the pretty -lambs of the flock have nought to fear from their shepherd,” -says I.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I take your meaning, Mr. Tylliol, and yet—[he paused -here with a peculiar sweet smile]—though you might decipher -much from his verses of Julias, Dianemes, Perillas, -and other charming ladies, and he is much accused as a loose -liver, ’tis possible to read his riddle wrong. Go therefore -and see him. I have known another who did this and returned -surprised. Yet cross not Dartmoor on your life, -but go softly below it where honest folk live. Also, a coach -goes down two days hence within two miles of the village -and with it a riding guard. Take your stout nag, and so -God bless you and send you a happy meeting with a man -not commonly to be accosted.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>’Twas in vain for me to beshrew and becall myself for -the veriest ass between this and London, and doubtless I had -flinched from so great an enterprise but that Mr. Delander -poured verses more and more mellifluous into mine ears until -at last I was as Ulysses, drunk with the fierce wine of the -Sirens’ voices, and there being no mast whereto to bind me -and Mr. Delander full of laughing incitements, I set forth -to follow the track of music as a bee the track of the unseen -rose’s perfume.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Of the roads I forbear to speak, and the harbourage by -the way would willingly forget, but the air was sweet and -fragrant with earliest summer and the fields yet gilt with -cowslips and I spied a few late primroses lingering about the -roots of trees in the shy copses. Also, an exceeding delicate -flower like a silver star, that made sweet constellation -in the lush grass. And could the courtesies of London be -imported I know not where a man might better fleet the -hours than in this warm and languid shire of Devon.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So, on the fourth day we observed a wild mountain -stream, browner than October ale, that rushing danced to -meet us, breaking in a thousand showers, spray, and rillets -among its rocks—a lovely thing to see and hear—the youngest -surely of the bright nymphs of the hills.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And this,” says the guard of the coach, “is the Dean -Burn, and not far off the Vicarage, and the few houses -of the village are far down the road where we shall presently -come. So here, worshipful sir, we leave you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Then, being arrived and the coach still standing to discharge -certain packets for the parson I spied a comely man -in middle age coming to meet us.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He was drest in hodden grey, clean but simple, his head -bare and the sunshine on it, and his eyes smiled with his -mouth. And in that first sight I gave my liking to Mr. Herrick, -and so has it continued.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I presented my letter from Mr. Delander, and of the -cordial of my welcome need I not to speak.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Nay, what favour?” said he. “Sure to a rustic that once -knew London, pinioned here to rude rocks and trees, ’tis -like a scent of the kindly civil streets to see an accomplished -gentleman. Blush not, sir, for so I have it under Mr. -Delander’s hands and seal, and I know no better judge. -’Tis little I can give, but my pleasant maid, Prudence -Baldwin, hath a bed with sun-bleacht sheets in waiting for -the traveller, and my roof is weather-proof, and my little -creeking hen, foreseeing a friend, hath made shift to lay her -long white egg, and this rascally riveret that I have abused -in verse, yet love, hath provided fresh-dewed cresses for -our meat. If with these and a very little more, my guest’s -hunger can be satiate, then welcome again—thrice welcome -to Dean Prior.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With gladness I accepted, for the welcome was as much -in his eye as on his lip, and so we came to the low house -seated in a small garden gay with gilliflowers, culver-keys, -sops-in-wine, lad’s love, and all the outspread courtiers that -pay homage to the rose. And roses he had, great store, -both damask and white, and the party-coloured York and -Lancaster—to the which he drew my notice.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Lord, what a little house, and poor though neat, and yet -with sparkles of money here and there in a rich picture or -two, and a settle and chest carved by no ’prentice hand, and -a worn but costly velvet cloak thrown over the back. And -a clock, grave as Time himself, with a dial curiously illustrated -with mottoes and cherubims. And before entering I -took notice that a sun-dial stood in the garden, with this -verse engraved<a id='r2'/><a href='#f2' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[2]</span></sup></a> so as the gnomon should point the lesson:</p> - -<div class='footnote'> -<p class='footnote'> -<span class='footnote-id' id='f2'><a href='#r2'>[2]</a></span> - -The inscription on the sun-dial is my own. <span class='sc'>L. Adams Beck.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='footnotemark'/> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Shine, Sun of Righteousness, with beam more bright</p> -<p class='line0'>Than this great dawn my dial doth invite,</p> -<p class='line0'>And as the gnomon’s shadow doth incline</p> -<p class='line0'>To tread his steps, let my sprite follow thine.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>Which methought a devout reflection pleasing to Christian -ears, and so I said, but he smiling put it by.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And now with a handsome curtsey Mrs. Prue met us, coming -from her kitchen, a kindly buxom woman with flowered -skirt pulled up through her pockets, and a cap white as the -foam on Dean Burn, and in her hospitable hand a little -server, she pressing us to drink a cup of ale before our -dinner served. And so showed me to my little cell with -lavender stuck in the windows, and sheets that might have -wrapt the smooth limbs of the divine Julia, though I dare -to say they never did. And since the bed was spread with -down pulled from the Vicar’s own geese it invited a pure and -honest slumber.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But, marry! when we came to dine, that I thought should -have been on eggs and cresses at the best, here was a surprise.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For before Master Vicar were laid two smoking trouts, -broiled to a turn over sea-coals.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And of these,” says mine host, “you may eat fearless, -for they were caught in Dean Burn, and of all clean livers -commend me to the trout that is indeed a dainty monsieur; -and these inhabit in water clear as crystal beams, unlike -those degenerate fish that scavenge in Thames. And moreover, -these hands took them this morning, for I am a brother -of the rod, and love to sit a-angling and a-musing.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And needs must I say that these trout with Mrs. Prue’s -sauce, the rich droppings of the fish mixed with fresh sweet -butter and the yolk of an egg, was a dish for feasting Gods.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>’Twas followed by a bird trapt on the moor, of a reddish -flesh and <span class='it'>haut gout</span> very delicious, and what should come -after that but a junket with nutmegs grated and clouted -cream—so yellow, thick and mellow that I praised and commended -and Mr. Herrick heapt my platter until I cried -quarter.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Cream of cowslips,” says he, “for the meadows whence it -was drawn are gilt with their fragrant blossoms and the -leisurely cows lie among them and crush their sweetness -as well as devour it. And if you condescend later to taste -it with a crust of Mrs. Prue’s bread and her marmalet of -crab-apples, you shall say it is good honest country fare -if simple.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I rose content from a meal excelling all the varieties of -rich men’s tables, and on his proposal we sat a while under -his honey-suckle bower to look upon the prospect and digest -our meat seemly, while Mrs. Prue moved softly about the -house clearing and cleansing.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And seeing the moment favourable, I adventured a question -much in my mind.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Sir, in your divine and honey-golden verse, recited to -me by our common friend, Mr. Delander, you speak with -opprobrium of this rude Devonshire. Yet here I come and -find you set amid delights of soul and body such as a king -might envy. Is it true that you, looking on these sweet -hills and meadows, this singing riveret and the hues and -scents of your garden, can wish yourself in the noise and -foulness of towns? Resolve me this doubt, for, trust me, it -perplexes me.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He smiled a little.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Why, sir, is a poet wiser than another that he should -not long for the rainbow a field away? You are to take -notice that when I lived in London I abused the smells and -sights and craved for country quiet. And now I have it -’tis the other way about. But in all good soberness this is -the better life and I know it. Here is the eye enlarged to -beauty, the ear attuned to music celestial, and the company, -though not choicely good, is innocent, and if evil, hath no -tinsel to hide its native ugliness.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He paused a moment as though to digest his thoughts -and added:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Here we rise with Chanticleer and make the lamb our -curfew, and the day’s small cares ended and our souls committed -to the Keeper who sleeps not, we slumber discharged -of griefs. And if our food be plain the seasoning is thanks.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“God, to my little meal and oil</p> -<p class='line0'>Add but a bit of flesh to boil,</p> -<p class='line0'>And Thou my pipkinet shalt see</p> -<p class='line0'>Give a wave-offering unto Thee.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>He smiled so cheerfully that I enquired:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Your own verse, reverend sir?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My own. My Muse is not always concerned with -ladies’ eyes nor with the revels of Mab and Oberon whereof -I have also delighted to write. She kneels sometimes, face -veiled. And these I call my Noble Numbers.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There was a moment’s silence, so great that through the -singing of the water I might hear the cropping of Clover-lips, -his red cow. ’Twas not long however before I -resumed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then, sir, the country is now your choice preferred?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I said not so. Nay, I long sometimes for the town. -But I know and scarce know how, that my lot will be cast -there again for some sad years, and then I shall return here -to lay my bones in peace among my people.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Was this revealed to you in dream, sir? But this question -is overbold. Few men reveal their dreams.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Mine,” says he, “are so chaste as I dare tell them. Yes, -in a dream. Doubtless induced by the present discontents -which will wreck our good King Charles and many lesser -with him.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We discoursed of these, and with each word I liked mine -host the better, until his gentleness emboldened me so much -that at the last I said;</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And where, worthy sir, are the houses of the lovely and -wealthy ladies who keep you good company in summer -sunshine and winter snow? Where dwells the stately Mistress -Julia, bright and straight as a garden tulip, a flower -which I confess the Roman name of Julia calls always to my -sight. Where the sparkling-eyed lady Dianeme, the shy -Anthea, the delicate Perilla light as a woodland anemone, -and all this shining garden of sweets that your muse commends -to our worship? Let me own nor blush for’t, that -my journey, though undertaken to their poet, was seasoned -also with the hope to kiss their feet.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Sir, you did well. The Hesperides are worth even a -journey to Devon. And doubtless you shall see the stately -Julia, and the bright Anthea and all the fair choir, but not -yet. And now will I repeat you my latest homage to one of -these ladies, and then I must needs visit my sick while you -sit in the meadow and watch the milkmaid at her fragrant -labour.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>    <span style='font-size:smaller'>“THE CURIOUS COVENANT</span></p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Mine eyes like clouds were drizzling rain,</p> -<p class='line0'>And as they thus did entertain</p> -<p class='line0'>The gentle beams from Julia’s light</p> -<p class='line0'>To mine eyes levelled opposite,</p> -<p class='line0'>O thing admired!—there did appear</p> -<p class='line0'>A curious rainbow smiling there,</p> -<p class='line0'>Which was the covenant that she</p> -<p class='line0'>No more would drown mine eyes or me.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“O exquisite felicity!” cried I with delight. “And did it -not move your empress to mercy?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It moved her, sir!” he answered with a subdued laughter. -“And now must I forth. Entertain yourself, I pray you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He went toward the village, bearing in his hand a well-stored -panier brought forth by Mrs. Prue, in the which I -might espy little pots and pipkins clearly bespeaking a charitable -heart. And when he disappeared I took in hand the -rod he commended to me and did go a-angling in the Dean -Burn.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But the sun was bright and the water like dancing diamonds -and its song so dulcet that even with my good will I -would fain leave the silly trout in their crystal house, and -so I e’en turned over in the short sweet-smelling grass and -there fell asleep and dreamed of Julia with her smooth rubious -lips and velvet cheek, and of the banquets of elves -and their midnight rejoicings, but dimly and with the sound -of water in it all, until I fell in the very deeps of slumber -and dreamed no more.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Suddenly and soon as it seemed, but was not, I heard a -voice soft as a cushat’s call me, and looking up drowsily beheld -a pretty milkmaid summon Clover-lips and Pretty -Primrose, and they responded slow but obedient.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>O charming sight, though the maiden wore but a homespun -gown of blue and had on her head nothing but a straw -hat bought at the fair. For her skin was cream with here -and there a cowslip freckle, and she was cherry-cheeked and -had withal a soft black eye and two clear-marked arches of -brows, and lips that you would not have smile lest the perfect -bow unbend, nor smiling would have grave lest the -quarrelet of pearls be hidden. And about her neck and -bosom was folded very modestly a handkerchief tucked into -her bodice.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So I rose to my feet and made my bow, for beauty, -though but in a milk-maiden, is native to the skies and enforces -homage, and the pretty maid blushing dropt so deep a -curtsey that I thought she must take root in the grass like -a flower, so long was it before she lifted the stars of her -eyes to mine.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I was bid by his Reverence, sir, to stroke you a syllabub,” -says she. “And will your Honour have it here and -now, for I have the verjuice of crab-apple and all needful?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Here and now if you’ll favour me,” says I enchanted, -and sat down to watch the lovely sight. Nor could I have -departed if even she had bid me;</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“For in vain she did conjure him</p> -<p class='line0'>To depart her presence so,</p> -<p class='line0'>With a thousand tongues to allure him</p> -<p class='line0'>And but one to bid him go.</p> -<p class='line0'>When lips delight and eyes invite,</p> -<p class='line0'>And cheeks as fresh as rose in June</p> -<p class='line0'>Persuade delay, what boots she say:</p> -<p class='line0'>‘Forego me now; come to me soon.’ ”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>But indeed the lass was pleased I stayed, and dulcet her -voice as she rounded a song to coax the cows let down their -milk.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“For ’tis known they always milk best to music,” says she, -“and often I would have Jan Holdsworthy to bring his pipe -and please ’em.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And thus I heard a Devon ballad, whereof a verse sticks -in my head:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“So Robin put on his Sunday clothes,</p> -<p class='line0'>Which were neither tattered nor torn,</p> -<p class='line0'>With a bright yellow rose as well as his shoes</p> -<p class='line0'>He looked like a gentleman born, he did!</p> -<p class='line0'>Ay, he did! Sure he did!</p> -<p class='line0'>He looked like a gentleman born, he did.”</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“And—”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“Nay, but I won’t sing the next bit,” says she with her -head against the cow’s warm silken side, and one bright -black eye regardant.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And why, my pretty lass?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Because Robin went for to be uncivil and kiss the maid -in the song. But she would have none of it and serve him -right, for—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“She gave him a smack in the face, she did!</p> -<p class='line0'>Ay, she did! Sure she did!</p> -<p class='line0'>She gave him a smack in the face, she did!”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>She trilled it out, defiant as a thrush at dawn, and I could -have committed Robin’s crime but for respect to her innocence -and Mr. Herrick’s hospitality. And sure never was a -syllabub so delicate and warm as this, strained from the -balm-breathing kine through sunburnt hands fresh rinsed -with sparkling water from Dean Burn.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I drank that wine of Nature’s brewing nor could be satisfied. -And when her pails foamed to the brim and Clover-lips -and Pretty Primrose returned disburdened to their -cropping, says I:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Tell me, my pretty one, where are the great houses -about these parts where dwell the fair and splendid ladies -who excel you in nothing but their wealth? And do they -come to the church o’ Sundays?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Anan, sir?” says she, bewildered.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The ladies in silks and lawns and jewels,” I insisted. -“Of whom I have read as shedding the lustre of their graces -even on these wild and solitary meads.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Methinks my talk was too fine for her. She laught like -one amazed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ladies, your honour, I know of none, nor never saw silk -nor lawn nor lady, nor heard of such but in the ballads the -chapmen bring to the fair.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But sure there are great squires and lords in these parts -and will have their hunting and sports and their ladies to -ride with them, and come to church in coaches and on pillions -a-Sundays?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No, your honour, no,” says she. “I would it were so. -’Twere fine to see the young madams, gay as kingfishers on -Dean Burn, but never saw I one, nor look to. And now I -must be going, with your leave, for I must sit at my wheel -or our dame will know the reason.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And with another curtsey the fair pretty maid departed to -her innocent labour, and ’twas as though the sun went -with her, so clear and lucid a beam was she of youth and -beauty.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But she left me musing, for where and how should Mr. -Herrick meet with his fair ladies unless indeed he took horse -and rode abroad, and I perpended and resolved to watch, -being sharp-set to see his peerless beauties if I died for it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>To grace our supper on Mr. Herrick’s return were the -cresses from the Dean Burn and little young radishes from -the garden with a cream cheese dewy in green leaves and a -dish of eggs dressed in an amulet by Mrs. Prue (and savoury -meat they were) and a tansy pudding to follow. And if I -be charged with gluttony in thus citing I crave pardon, for -I know not how but the mind sat down with the body to -the feast and both were nourished.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Prue, the prudent, brought us after a very little glass -each of surfeit-water and of such comfort that I would -needs have her recipe, the which she imparted very gravely:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“We take of red corn poppies a peck and put them in a -dish with another for cover, and so into the oven several -times after the household bread is drawn. We lay them -in a quart of aqua vitæ [“And this,” interrupted Mr. Herrick, -“comes very good from the sea-covers by Plymouth, -and is brought to us on moor ponies.”] and thereto we add -a race of ginger sliced, nutmeg, cinnamon, mace, a handful -of figs, raisins-of-the-sun, aniseed, cardamom and fennel -seeds, with a taste of lickorish. And so lay some poppies -in a great vessel and then the other ingredients and more -poppies and so continue till the vessel’s full. We then pour -in our aqua vitæ and let it so continue until very red with -the poppies and strong of the spice. We take from it what -we need, adding more aqua vitæ. And much good may -it do your Honour for ’tis a known cordial.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is so!” says I sipping, “and trust me, I am beholden -to you, good Mrs. Prudence, and will benefit.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We left our glasses empty and betook ourselves to the -bower in the garden so twined and wreathed with the -gold and amber horns of honey-suckle spilling their fragrance -that my soul was ravisht, and Mr. Herrick fetching -his lute saluted mine ears with strains celestial, adding his -voice thereto at moments, yet not loud but as if thinking -melodiously to himself in serene reverie in the deepening twilight.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Hear, ye virgins, and I’ll teach</p> -<p class='line0'>What the times of old did preach.</p> -<p class='line0'>Rosamund was in a bower</p> -<p class='line0'>Kept, as Danae in a tower.</p> -<p class='line0'>But yet Love who subtle is,</p> -<p class='line0'>Crept to that, and came to this!</p> -<p class='line0'>Be ye lockèd up like these</p> -<p class='line0'>Or the rich Hesperides,</p> -<p class='line0'>Or those babies in your eyes</p> -<p class='line0'>In their crystal nunneries,</p> -<p class='line0'>Notwithstanding Love will win</p> -<p class='line0'>Or else force a passage in.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>He plucked a few notes and was silent, for Philomel in a -thorn beside the Dean broke forth, amazing the night with -harmony, and holding breath we listened to the sweet delirium -that hath enchanted the ages.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She stopt as suddenly as she began and flew to some more -distant groves to duel with another songster as lovely, -the moon herself in rising seeming to pause and listen ere -she ascended her silver throne.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Exquisite!” says he sighing. “How have I the rude -audacity to match my numbers with hers? Yet I too have -my breast on a thorn and must sing or die. And you assert -that they please, Mr. Tylliol?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“They enchant,” cried I eagerly. “But, O, Mr. Herrick, -my good host and worthy friend, I beseech you reveal -to me where hide the Hesperides you celebrate in verse that -will not die like Philomel’s. Few are my days here. Let -me not return empty. With the most awful reverence will -I stand at a distance to admire, nor with a thought smirch -the crystalline lawn that veils the bosom of Madam Julia or -the silks that rustle in Dianeme’s going. What—what are -the earthly names of these admired ladies?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In one hour, when the moon is up and at full, then you -shall meet them,” says he. “For then they do use to give -me gracious tryst beyond Dean Burn at a certain place -known to me and to them. And if their beauty is not correspondent -to your expectation, blame not them, but consider -rather the teaching of Plotinus his book wherein he -writes: ‘That which sees must be kindred and similar to -its object before it can see it. Every man must partake -of the divine nature before he can see Divinity.’ So then, -if they appear not lovely the fault is in the eye that sees.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But, sir,” says I bewildered; “is this so also with the -perishable beauty of women which leads man into ways -unallied indeed with Divinity?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He touched a few soft notes on the pensive strings, responding -gravely:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“That man hath never beheld the beauty of woman whom -it leads downward, but only a shadow and simulacrum, as -it were; the false Duessa, whereas the true Una (the One) -is crowned with stars and in its nature heavenly.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I have conversed, as is known to my friend, with many -men counted high, but, trust me, here with the world -charmed by moonlight and the quiet running of water, the -voice of this man took on a quality unearthly and you are -to know that it moved me exceedingly as with something -latent and not to be exprest. Nor would I answer but sat -attentive while he pursued his thoughts aloud.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“For so says also the wisest man that ever wore flesh -(setting aside only the Bright and Orient Star) and these -are his words: ‘Such a man uses the beauties of earth as -steps whereon he mounts, going from fair forms to fair -deeds, and from fair deeds to fair thoughts, and from fair -thoughts attains to the Idea of Absolute Beauty. And if a -man have eyes to see this true Beauty he becomes the friend -of God and immortal.’ ”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And after this we both observed such a silence as when -sweet music dies and leaves the air ravisht and in ecstasy, -and so sate I know not how long until at last the moon -glided over the trees and threw her light on the Dean Burn. -He then arose, still holding his lute.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You would see my beauties, Mr. Tylliol, and that you -shall! Come with me now.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And so led the way to a part where the water spread wide, -glittering and very shallow, and here great flat stepping-stones -used by generations, as he told me, and on these we -crost and went on and up (our path clear as day) until, it -might be half a mile or more, we came to a singular little -amphitheatre (so I may call it) of turf, short and cropt -and soft as kings’ carpets, with thick bushes and trees and -some rocks surrounding it, very secret and secluded, enclosing -it into a fair pleasance but not large.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And here I often sit,” he whispered. “But go very -softly.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And indeed a natural awe, of I know not what, fell on me -and constrained me into a breathless quiet, following him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So presently we seated ourselves on a low rock cushioned -with moss, and then taking his lute he began to play gently, -but with such a penetrating sweetness as Orpheus himself, -who with his music melted the hearts of trees and rocks, -could scarce, I think exceed, yet most simple withal.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the melody was singular, and with a delicate continuity -like the ceaseless running of rain or water, and after -awhile it appeared to me as if, like a revolving spinning -wheel, it cast abroad silver threads which mingling with the -moonlight did dance and whirl and shape themselves into -changing forms (but I know not what) dissolving and returning -and re-shaping in a labyrinth that mazed me. And -whether it was my own brain that spun them (as in dream) -I cannot tell, nor whether they were real or imagined.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But presently a sweetly lovely face peeped from the -boughs, finger on lips, the pointed chin elfish as though the -cap should be a flower, a truant indeed from Fairyland. -And “Silvia!” he whispered, continuing to play. She, if -she it were, listened, archly smiling, a face and no more, and -suddenly the leaves closed about her, and nothing there.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>My breath stumbled in my throat, and I closed my eyes -an instant, and when again they opened, at the further end -of the pleasance, but dim in the moonlight as though in a -mist of lawn and cobweb lace, I saw a lady pace from one -covert to the other. And myself this time, but whether -aloud I know not, said: “Madam Julia.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For she moved imperial, but her beauty I cannot itemize, -nor know now whether I saw or dreamed her lips—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Which rubies, corals, scarlets all</p> -<p class='line0'>For tincture wonder at,—”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>nor the black splendour of her hair, and the proud dark -glance she cast about her in passing, nor the splendid -sweeping of her gown.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And even as she parted the boughs and Dian-like was hid -among them, came another following, but stepping lightly -from behind a rock whereon a tree laid leafy fingers of -lucent green,—a creature of soft and flower-wafting breezes, -white and sunbeam-haired, and I dare swear the ray of her -eyes was blue, though see them I did not.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Mr. Herrick, speaking as in time to his lute, seemed -to say:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Smooth Anthea for a skin</p> -<p class='line0'>White and heaven-like crystalline,”—</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>and she waved a moonbeam hand as he whispered and, -springing as lightly between the rocks and boughs as a leaping -stream, was gone.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Then suddenly his lute ceased as though to give place to -a better and a lady, robed in white, came cradling a lute -to her bosom and singing—O words melodious, melting -into heavenly numbers—I believe I knew at the blessed -moment what they were but now have they slipt my gross -understanding. For ’twas indeed the choice Myrrha—O -Music, O maid divine, walking soundless as flowing -water and bathing in her own sweet harmonies as a Naiad in -her native crystal.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And even as she past, unheeding her worshipper, Mr. -Herrick’s lute resumed the strain.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And now past two fair ladies, close entwined as Hermia -and Helena, whispering each in the other’s ear and casting -oblique and tender looks upon their poet, the one in a yellow -robe like a spring daffodil and the other in a most pure -violet, perfume-breathing as the hue she wore. And the -first was crowned with may, white as ivory exprest in -blossom, and my heart said for me, “Corinna, who will go -a-maying while the world lasts.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“She that puts forth her foliage to be seen,</p> -<p class='line0'>And comes forth like the spring-time fresh and green,</p> -<p class='line0'>And sweet as Flora.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>And indeed she past me so near that I caught the almond-sweet -breath of her wreath.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the other sure was the lady Dianeme, for I knew her -by her dancing shining eyes and the bough of blossomed -laylock in her hand.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes.”—</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>Yet what could she be but proud of what the world counts -among its jewels? And after them came running the delicate -Perilla to join herself to their garland, and so smoothly -did she glide that I looked to see her shod with the winged -sandals of Hermes, for not a blade bent as she past, and -so she slipt across the moonlight.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And then a little crowd of sweet shadows—Perenna the -lovely, Sappho (but not she of the Leucadian rock), the -Delaying Lady with handsome sullen brows, and lips pouted -in half disdain, the beloved Electra, graceful as a harebell -on a breeze, the reluctant Oenone and many others, fair -and Orient gems set in a carcanet for the Muse’s wearing. -And after them a young Cupid, kitten-eyed and mischievous -with his bow braced.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And at this the air filled suddenly with nimble laughters -and little cries flipt with merry breath in the trees above -us, and small shapes drunk with dew and moonlight dropt -from the boughs like spiders sliding down their threads, -so many that they pelted quick as rain-drops on the turf. -And, lo you! ’twas a rabble of Oberon’s courtiers tripping -across to set their mushroom tables in the shade retired -from the moon of night, and indeed, methought the Lady -Moon leaned her golden chin on a bar of cloud to watch the -silly shower and laugh at their follies.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But the voice of Mr. Herrick’s lute waxed faster and -faster till it spun a labyrinth of music wherein the fairies -did flout and spin and stagger, singing, and these words -reached me but no more:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Through the forest, through the forest</p> -<p class='line0'>I will track my fairy Queen,</p> -<p class='line0'>Of her foot the flying footprint,</p> -<p class='line0'>Of her locks the flying sheen.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>And whether this was sung or danced I know not, for the -moon dipt behind a cloud, and all shapes from distinct became -confused into a swift murmur whether of sound or -sight or the ripple of the Dean Burn I can tell neither to -myself nor others, only that presently there was darkness and -silence. Nor can I say whether hours or minutes had past -when Mr. Herrick laid his hand upon my arm and roused -me from what I took to be a deep meditation.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Dear guest,” says he, “you have slept long, and every -leaf is pearled in dew, and the Night would be secret with -her subjects. We intrude. Therefore rouse yourself, for -Mrs. Prue will think us strayed sheep if she wake, and indeed -I will bespeak your soft treading for she is but a crazy -sleeper and hath of late been sick, almost to be lunatic, with -a pain in her teeth.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But I was stumbling as if heavy with sleep and could say -naught, and so we crost the shining water on the stones and -returned wordless, and that night I slept like a happy spirit -in the dewy meads of heaven.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Not a word said the next day and Mr. Herrick almost distraught -with busyness for the riding post brought him letters -from his rich London kin and the news of growing troubles -between King and Parliament very piercing to his honest -heart.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And on the day following my nag was saddled, and the -coach returning on its way to Exeter I was to ride with it -for security, but still not a word said on the matter nearest -my soul.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Then as we waited for the wheels,—I having bid Mrs. -Prue a kindly farewell with a vail which but ill compensated -her hospitable services, Mr. Herrick said musingly:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Once, Mr. Tylliol, I made a verse on Dreams, in the -which this was writ:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“ ‘Here are we all by day; by night we are hurled</p> -<p class='line0'>By dreams, each one into a several world.’</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“And I have read in ancient books that it is not impossible -but a man may be hurled into another man’s world or House -of Dreams—not often indeed but once in a great while. -And if this be so and it seems to that visitant a house of -lunacies or moonstruck madness (as well it may), shall there -be pardon for his dream-host therein?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And I:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Sir, not a house of lunacies, but a house of enchantments -whereof I would I had the freehold! And if you had any -part in unlocking the door (whereof I know not what to -think) take my loving and humble thanks and again make -me welcome when leagues lie between us. For dreams ask -neither wheels nor hoofs to carry them.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And he smiling said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Come!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So, lovingly we parted and the enchanted place grew small -and dim, receding behind me, and with fleshly eyes never -again shall I see the clear running of Dean Burn and the -lush meadows where fair Margery stroked me a syllabub of -cowslip cream. But Mr. Herrick shall I see, for his dreams -are not as other men’s and he comes, I know, sooner or later, -to London.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now what all this means, I cannot know but may guess, -and on that I say no more. Let each man read it as he -can. But never again tell me that Mr. Herrick is a loose -liver because his Muse dwells like a dove in the warmth of -ladies’ bosoms, for I know better.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Jocund his Muse was, but his life was chaste,” is the -self-chosen Finis to his book, and well it may.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And for a last gift he slipt into my hand at parting his -latest verses or effusion to Madam Julia, whose stately pacing -haunts me yet and ever will.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“This day, my Julia, thou must make</p> -<p class='line0'>For Mistress Bride the wedding cake.</p> -<p class='line0'>Knead but the dough and it will be</p> -<p class='line0'>To paste of almonds turned by thee.</p> -<p class='line0'>Or kiss it thou but once or twice</p> -<p class='line0'>And for the bride-cake there’ll be spice.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>And to me those words will ever bring the scents and -fragrance and the dreams of Dean Prior, and as for the cake, -’twill be eat beyond Dean Burn on the little mushroom -tables of fay and ouphe and elf, and the drink shall be a -pearl of dew for each, served in the purple of a pregnant -violet.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And so ends my letter but much more and stranger things -shall I tell when I come to my friend.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.2em;'>THE ISLAND OF PEARLS</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:.8em;'>THE HIDDEN HEART OF CEYLON</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch9'>THE ISLAND OF PEARLS<br/> <br/> <span style='font-size:smaller'>THE HIDDEN HEART OF CEYLON</span></h1></div> - -<p class='pindent'>The Island of Pearls, shaped like a dewdrop hanging -from the lotus petal of India, is loveliest of the Oceanides, -a Nereid floating on blue tropic seas. She is a voluptuous -beauty, jewelled, languid, fanned by spiced airs, crowned -with flowers, dusky, sultry, with strange romances in her -past as she went from lover to lover, faithful only to one, the -eternal sea. Colombo flames on you in the sun, hidden in -trees so deep, so green that if you climb a hill the town is -lost like a bird’s nest in the tangle of vegetation. And -what trees!—unlike the pensive elm and poplar, the ribbed -oak of the West, these burst into flowers and a spendthrift -fire of life. There is a giant covered with clusters of mauve -blossoms like the rhododendron—I could not leave it—I -was caught like a bee by its huge glory towering up into the -sunshine. It bathed every sense in delight to stand beneath -and see the larkspur blue of the sky through the crowded -bloom. Others more austerely beautiful with faint rose and -white crocus flowers springing from the grey stem and loading -the air with perfume, and for the background the grace -and grandeur of the palms balancing their frondure in the -blue. There are no words to describe these things. Only -in colour or music can their splendour be told.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the lavish fruit! Mangosteens, mangoes, papayas, -oranges,—Aladdin’s jewels of wizard gardens. And the -jewels themselves, for Ratnapura, the City of Gems, is near -at hand. Moonstones heaped in great pearl-shells, like -silvery blue moonlight touched with swimming gleams of -gold, great cats’ eyes with oblique pupils, aqua-marines of -purest sparkling green, sea water dipped up from the secrecies -of deepest depths, wine-dark jargoons, tourmalines -many-hued as spring flowers, sapphires ranging from pale -azure to ocean blue, carbuncles that flame in ancient legends -as sacred jewels, all these and many more Ceylon displays -like the Queen she is. And the sea is as the jewels—all -light and glitter and the broken glories of rolling surf. It is -these things which have made her the desire of men’s eyes -from time immemorial—the Island of the blue horizon, -scarcely believable for beauty and wonder. Hear Abdulla, -called Wassaf, the poet of Siraf in Persia, when he wrote -of her long centuries ago:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“When Adam was driven forth from Paradise God made -a mountain of Ceylon the place of his descent, to break the -force of change and so assuage his fall. The charms of this -fair country, the softness of the air, are beyond all telling. -White amber is the dregs of its sea, and its indigo and red -bakam are cosmetics for beauty. The leaves, the barks, -and the sweating of its trees are cloves, spikenard, aloe -wood, camphor and fragrant mandel. Its icy water is a -ball of muneya for the fractures of the world. The -boundaries of its fields refresh the heart like the influence -of the stars. The margins of its regions are the bedfellows -of loveliness. Its myrobalums impart the blackness -of youthful hair, and its peppercorns put the mole on the -face of beauty on the fire of envy. Its rubies and carnelians -are like the lips and cheeks of charming girls, and its -treasures are as oceans full of polished gems. Indeed the -various birds are sweet singing parrots and the pheasants of -its gardens are graceful peacocks.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So they told of her, and merchants came from the end of -the earth to trade in the wonders of Serendib, bringing and -taking riches, and not only riches but tales of wildest wonder -and romance. They said the people were descended -from a royal lion and hence their name Singhalese—Singha, -a lion. They said she breathed her sweetness for miles out -to sea and that before the shore rose from the horizon the -air was languid with her spices and perfumes. Was this -true or hyperbole? It is at least certain that in many parts -of the island the wild lemon grass is almost overwhelming in -its odour and many of the flowers scent all the world about -them. The tropical sun and hot dewy moisture stimulate -plant life into a passionate luxuriance of fragrant beauty. -Horror too, for there are blossoms whose name of Stercula -foetida tells all that need be told of their loathsomeness.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In this strange land the sands of some of the rivers are -minute rubies and garnets, and it is of Serendib the story -was told of serpents that guarded the precious jacinths, and -the stratagem of the merchants in flinging pieces of meat -into deep valleys where they lay, that hovering eagles might -strike their talons in the meat encrusted with jewels and -carry it to their nests in the rocks, where ready hands could -seize it. The jacinths have become diamonds in the Arabian -Nights, but we all know the story in the mouth of Sindbad -the sailor of perilous seas.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the merchants had terrible tales to tell of the women -of the island. They were sirens as dangerous as ever sought -to beguile Ulysses. Some of them dwelt in a great city of -iron on the coast with fluttering signals on their towers to -lure sea-farers, and when the eager boats made for the shore -women of the most alluring loveliness, perfumed and garlanded, -ran to meet them, stretching passionate arms, wooing -them to enter the city. There they caressed them until -every sense was drowned in delight, when bound and helpless, -they flung them into iron cages and devoured them one -by one.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The merchants were the great romancers of the ancient -world—the singers of songs, the tellers of tales, and surely -they had the right, for is there more romance in any word -than in their own name? It calls up mirage after mirage -of wearied camel caravans toiling through deserts of sand -to cities that were old when Balkh and Damascus were -young; where the blue and glittering domes of porcelain rise -against intenser skies in sunsets sonorous as a gong with -deep light and colour. It is the merchants always who carry -romance and adventure in their corded bales. In robe and -turban they yearn for the caravanserais and the men coming -by many ways to the meeting place. They hunger for the -flat hot cakes seed-sprinkled, and the savoury smells of the -kous-kous bubbling in oil, but most of all for the excitements -and lusts of the bazaar and the dangerous winding ways of -forbidden palaces. See them unroll the gold and flowered -stuffs of Bokhara, the silks from Cos as transparent as running -water that gave the fair Pamphila the glory of having -invented a dress “in which women were naked though -clothed.” See the muslins of Dacca unloosed from the -swaying camel-packs;—the merchants can scarcely handle -them lest a faint breeze blow them from their hold, for of -these it is told that the Emperor, Akbar, the Truth-Seeker, -rebuked a woman who appeared before him robed in woven -air, saying, “Little does it become a daughter of the Prophet -to show herself arrayed in one dress only and that, as it -were, nothing, being but the illusion of a garment.” And -she replied audaciously: “Majesty, Light of the Age, I am -more modest than modesty’s self, for I wear at this moment -<span class='it'>Nine</span>.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Through all the stories of Ceylon the merchants go, -tempting the perilous seas in frail dromonds and crank high-decked -galleons, tempted in turn by princesses, more perilous -than the seas, shooting dangerous glances through rose-coloured -veils. Sometimes their historic quests were wild as -any dream. It was rumoured over Asia that the lost Tree -of Life grew in the jungles of this fortunate Island and a -King of Persia and Emperor of China sent their merchants -with huge wealth to buy its precious leaves—more than ever -precious in the intrigues of Oriental Courts—but only to -find it grows in a Paradise more far away than even the -famed Serendib, and that no merchants, young and ardent, -grave and bearded, could lay that merchandise before the -throne.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Ceylon figures in one of the most ancient epics of the -world—the Ramayana, for it was Ravana the demon King -of Ceylon (Lanka) who seized the lovely Sita, wife of the -God-King Rama as she wandered in the forest, and bore her -through the air to his island kingdom. The writer of the -poem was a mighty poem maker: Valmiki,—let his name -be fragrant for all time! And like all his divine brotherhood -he was first taught by sorrow. For sitting one day in -the heart of the woods, Valmiki beheld two herons singing -for joy and love as they wandered together by air and water, -and as he gladdened to their gladness, an archer shot the male -bird and he fell bathed in blood, never again to sweep the -wing-ways of the sky, and his mate fluttered about him in -agony. So Valmiki, with the wrath and power of a poet, -cursed the man who had done this black deed, and, as he -spoke, suddenly he knew that his words were a measured -music and that a new and wonderful thing had befallen in -the world. And so it was, for Brahma appeared in the -cloud, four-faced, majestic, and commanded him to write -the history of Rama and the storming of Ceylon in this -same mysterious music. “And it shall be true in every -word,” said the God, “and so long as the world lasts shall -this story be known among men.” And that was the beginning -of poetry in India.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Perhaps this is the chief fame of Ceylon, for the God -spoke not in vain. There is no city now so lovely as that of -which Valmiki tells—the city of jewelled pavements and -windows of glimmering crystal and the cloudy palaces where -the cruel King dwelt and where Sita was a captive. For—“Here -dwelt the fair princesses torn by him from vanquished -Kings. Now it was night and they lay overpowered with -wine and sleep. One had her head thrown backward; some -had their garlands crushed; some lay in each other’s bosoms, -or with arms interlaced, others in slumber deep as death. -The King Ravana lay on a dais apart made of crystal and -adorned with jewels. Here lay he overcome with wine, with -glittering rings in his ears and robed in gold, breathing like -a hissing serpent. Around him lay his sleeping Queens, and -nearest him the dearest, the golden-hued Mandodari.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So the story runs through all its epic wonder of love and -war, and yearly in India is celebrated the harrying of -Ravana—I have seen his ten-headed image go up in flames -amid the rejoicing of a multitude. Yet, as I think, the -ancient city, Anaradhapura, now a ruin in the jungle, could -not have fallen so far behind the splendours of Valmiki. -Many who have visited it have written of it as it is in death—the -broken fragments of palaces and temples, a few preserved -here and there like rocks that are the survival of -some lost Atlantis in the drowning ocean of the forest. -How few recall it as it was in its pride and power! I stood -in the green dimness of the glades where are the sculptured -tanks where the queens bathed in days long dead, and read -the words of one who knew it well—Fa Hien, the Chinese -Buddhist pilgrim of the fourth century <span style='font-size:smaller'>A. D.</span> For this was -the Anaradhapura of the Ceylon he visited in search of the -words of the Lord Buddha; of himself he speaks in the third -person:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“To the north of the royal city is erected a great tower in -height 470 feet,—it is adorned with gold and silver and -perfected with every precious substance. There is by the -side of it a monastery containing 5000 priests. They also -have built here a hall of the Lord which is covered with gold -and silver engraved work. In the midst of this hall is a -jasper figure (of the Buddha) in height about 22 feet. The -entire body glitters and sparkles with the seven precious -substances. In the right hand he holds a pearl of inestimable -value. Fa Hien had been absent many years from -China; the manners and customs of these people were entirely -strange to him, moreover his fellow travellers were -now separated from him, for some had remained behind and -some were dead. All at once as he stood by this jasper -figure, he beheld a merchant present to it as a religious offering -a fan of white silk of Chinese manufacture. Unwittingly -Fa Hien gave way to his sorrowful feelings and the -tears flowed from his eyes.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Those tears, dried so long since, gave to this Western pilgrim, -standing in the same place, the true Virgilian sense -of tears in mortal things, and still they move the world.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Ceylon is a land of the Gods. They have left their footprints -very plain upon this radiant loveliness as they came -and went. She has known many generations of them. All -who would understand her should read Valmiki’s semi-divine -poem of the great battles of Rama, God-King of India, as he -fought here his wars of the Gods and Titans to rescue his -wife, the lovely Sita, the heart’s love and worship to this day -of his dominion.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Here, when the Demon King held her in captivity, -the army of Rama strode across the bridge of scattered -rocks between Ceylon and India. Still may be seen the gap -that no strength, human or divine, could pass, where the -mighty host was stayed, until a little tree squirrel, for love -of Rama, laid his small body in the hollow, and because love -is the bridge eternal between the two worlds, the rescuing -host passed triumphant over it. But Rama, stooping -from his Godhead, Incarnation as he was in human flesh -of Vishnu the Preserver, lifted the crushed body tenderly -and touched the dead fur, and to this day, the tree squirrels -bear the marks of the divine fingers upon their coats of grey.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There is no demarcation in Asia between the so-called -animal and human lives. Rama himself had passed through -the animal experience on the upward way and knew well -what beats in the little heart beneath fur and feather.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In those wonderful parables, the Birth Stories of the Lord -Buddha, are recorded his supposed memories of the incarnations -of bird, animal and other lives through which a -steadfast evolution led him to the Ten Perfections. How -should he not know, and knowing love? Is it not written by -a great Buddhist saint: “It may well be that to the eye of -flesh, plants and trees appear to be gross matter; but to the -eye of the Buddha they are composed of minute spiritual -particles; grass, trees, countries the earth itself, shall enter -wholly into Buddhahood”? And does not science, faltering -far behind the wisdom of the mighty, adumbrate these -truths in its later revelations?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We know too little of the wisdom of the East. The Magi -still journey to Bethlehem, but only those who have the -heart of the Child may receive their gold, myrrh, and frankincense.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yet, for mere beauty’s sake, these stories of the East -should be read. Men thrill to the mighty thunder-roll of -Homer’s verse, but the two supreme epics of India are little -known. If the West would gather about the story-teller as -the East gathers, in bazaar or temple court, the stories should -be told from these and other sources, until Rama stands beside -the knightly Hector, and Sita’s star is set in the same -heaven where shines the lonely splendour of Antigone.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>When the rapturous peace of the Lord Buddha could no -longer be contained within the heart of India, it overflowed, -and like a rising tide submerged Ceylon. And now, although -India has forgotten and has returned to the more -ancient faiths, Ceylon remembers. The Lotus of the Good -Law blossoms in every forest pool. The invocation to the -Jewel in the Lotus is daily heard from every monastery of -the Faith, where the yellow-robed Brethren still follow the -way marked for them by the Blessed One who in Uruvela -attained to that supernal enlightenment of which he said, -“And that deep knowledge have I made my own—that -knowledge, hard to perceive, hard to understand, peace-giving, -not to be gained by mere reason, which is deeper -than the depths, and accessible only to the wise.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yet, among living men are some whose eyes are but a -little darkened with dust. To them shall the truth be manifest.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>If it be an aim of travel to see what is beautiful and -strange, it may be also an aim to seek that spiritual beauty -where it sits enthroned in its own high places; and my hope -in Ceylon was to visit the land where that strait and narrow -way of Buddhism is held which is known as the Hinayana—or -the Lesser Vehicle. In Tibet, China, and Japan, -I had known the efflorescence of the Buddhist Faith where, -recognizing the mystic emanations of the Buddhas, it becomes -the Greater Vehicle and breaks into gorgeous ritual -and symbolism, extraordinarily beautiful in themselves, and -yet more so in their teaching. Buddhism, in those countries, -like the Bride of the Canticles, goes beautifully in jewels -of gold and raiment of fine needlework, within her ivory -palaces. In Ceylon, like the Lady Poverty of Saint Francis -of Assisi, she walks with bared feet, bowed head, her -begging-bowl in hand, simple and austere in the yellow robe -of the Master—her rock-temples and shrines as he himself -might have blessed them in their stern humility. Save at -the Temple of the Tooth, the splendours she heaps upon his -altars are those of her flowers. With these she may be lavish -because his life was wreathed with their beauty. He -was born in a garden, beneath a Tree he attained Wisdom, -in a garden he died. A faith that is held by nearly every -tenth living man or woman is surely worthy of reverence and -study, even in these hurrying days when gold, not wisdom, -is the measure of attainment.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So I came to Ceylon for the first time but not for the last.</p> - -<hr class='tbk'/> - -<p class='pindent'>Near a little town in the hills stands a Wihara—a monastery—dreaming -in the silent sunshine. The palms are -grouped close about the simple roofs—so close that the passing -tourist could never guess that the Head of the Buddhist -Faith in Ceylon, a great saint, a great ruler of seven thousand -priests, dwelt there in so secret, so complete an austerity.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He was a very old man when I came, but his ninety-two -years sat lightly on him and each year had laid its tribute of -love and honour at his feet. He was known as the Maha -Nayaka Thero; and in religion, for the love of the Master, -he had taken the Master’s human name of Siddartha. It -was strange indeed to see the simplicity of his surroundings;—to -me it appeared singularly beautiful: it breathed -the spiritual purity that had made him beloved throughout -the island.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A great scholar, deeply learned in Sanskrit and Pali and -in the abtruse philosophy that is for the elders of the Law, -he was yet the gentlest of men, and his very learning and -strength were all fused into a benignant radiance that sunned -the griefs of the world he had cast so far behind him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I was glad to wander about in the quiet monastery—the -little one-storied quadrangle on the side of the hill. It offered—it -invited—the life of meditation, of clear thought, -of delicate austerity. The noise of great events (so-called) -was like the dim murmur of a shell when they reached the -Wihara and the ear of Sri Siddartha. But he heard, he -noted the progress of science, even to the possibilities of -aviation, because to a Buddhist saint all spheres of knowledge -are one, and all nothing, in the Ocean of Omniscience.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So the people brought their grievances and troubles to -the aged Archbishop. You were in the presence of a very -great gentleman when you entered and found him seated, his -scribe cross-legged at his feet to record what passed. The -people would approach him softly and with the deepest reverence, -and with permission would seat themselves on the -ground at a due distance.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Venerable Sir, we are in trouble. We seek your counsel.” -That was the cry. And always, in spite of his many years, -he listened and counselled and comforted.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Soon after my arrival his birthday was celebrated with -much rejoicing. The Bhikkus (monks) had put up little -festive bamboo arches, fluttering with split palm-leaves like -ribbons, all about the Wihara, and troops of Bhikkus came -to lay their homage at his feet. The roads were sunshiny -with their yellow robes as they flocked in from remote -places—jungle, cave-temples, and far mountains. The -laity came also, crowding to see the Venerable One. He received -them all with serene joy, and pursued his quiet way, -thinking, reading, meditating on the Three Jewels—the -Lord, the Law, and the Communion of Saints. And the -Bhikkus departed, believing that he might be among them -for many days.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But it was not to be; for, a few days later, while he was -sweeping the garden walks, a duty he had made his own, he -felt a sudden loss of strength, and lying down, in two hours -he passed painlessly away.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I was permitted to visit Sri Siddartha as he lay in death. -The room was very simple and bare. Many of his Bhikkus -stood about him, and there were flowers, flowers, everywhere. -Beside him burned a perfumed gum, sending up its -thin blue spirals of fragrance.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I was received with perfect kindness, and especially -by his favourite disciple and pupil—a young monk with a -worn ascetic face, who stood in deep meditation at the head -of his Master. He looked up and smiled, and raised the -face-cloth that I might see, and looked down again at the -brown face, calm as a mask of Wisdom with its closed lips -and eyes. Even closed, they looked old—old. A Bhikku, -standing by, told me that all had loved him and were bereaved -in his going. “But for him—he is in the Nirvana of -Paradise.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The strange phrase awoke in my mind the words of the -Blessed One, and I repeated them as I stood beside that -quiet sleep.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But this, O Bhikkus, is the highest, this is the holiest -wisdom—to know that all suffering has vanished away. -He has found the true deliverance that lies beyond the -reach of change.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And I remembered the symbolic fresco in Colombo, representing -the Lord Buddha borne dead on a chariot in a -garden. The gardener digs his grave, but the Lord awakes -from death, and bids the man know he is not dead but living. -The Buddha stands majestic by the open grave—the -gardener recoils in fear. Death has no more dominion.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So I left Sri Siddartha lying in the mystery where all the -wisdoms are one.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In the garden, in the riot of tropical blossom and beauty, -a Bhikku was standing in the perfect stillness that is a part -of the discipline. He greeted me, and we spoke of my -quest.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Go,” he said, “to Mihintale, where the Law first came to -this island by the hands of Mahinda. Seek also the great -Dagoba where stand the images of the Buddhas that have -been and of Him who is to come. And under the Tree -which is a part of that Tree beneath which the Blessed One -received illumination, meditate on Truth.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I delayed only that I might see the flames receive the discarded -body of the Venerable One; and the ceremony took -place next day, amid a vast gathering of the people and the -great companies of the Bhikkus. They flooded the ways -with sunshine in every shade of yellow, from deep primrose -to a tawny orange. The roads were strewn, with rice like -snowflakes, stamped into star-shapes. A strange melancholy -music went with us. So, climbing a steep hill, we -came to the pyre, heaped with the scented and aromatic -woods of the jungle, and closed from human view by a -high scaffolding draped with bright colours. On this pyre -he was laid, and one of his own blood, holding a torch, applied -the pure element to the wood: and, as he did so, the -assembly raised a cry of “Sadhu, Sadhu!” and with that -ascription of holiness a sheet of flame swept up into the -crowns of the palms, and the scent of spices filled the air. -And even as the body of the Blessed One passed into grey -ash, passed also the worn-out dwelling of Sri Siddartha.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I made my way next day to a temple hollowed in the -rock, the ceiling of which is frescoed with gods and heroes. -It is taught that here the Canon of the Buddhist Scriptures -was first committed to writing about 450 <span style='font-size:smaller'>B.C.</span> Here five -hundred, priests, learned in the Faith, assembled, and collating -the Scriptures, chanted every word, while the scribes -recorded them with stylus and palm-leaf as they heard. -Burmese, Tibetans, Indians, all were present, that so the -Law might be carried over Asia, and the Peace of the -Blessed One be made known to men.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Here, too, the discipline was fixed. The Bhikku must -not be touched by a woman’s hand. He must eat but -twice a day, and not after noon. He must keep the rule of -the Lady Poverty as did Saint Francis. He must sleep nowhere -but in Wiharas and other appointed places. And -these are but a few of the commands. Yet, if the rule is -too hard for him, the Bhikku may relinquish it at his will, -and return to the world a free man—a fettered man, as the -Master would have said, but free according to the rule of -the Transient World. It is said that few accept this permission.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It took little imagination to people the silent temple with -the Assembly—the keen intellectual Indian faces, the yellow -robe and the bared shoulder, seated in close ranks in the -twilight of the temple. Now it was silent and empty, but -a mysterious aura filled it. The buildings of men’s hands -pass away, but the rock, worn not at all, save where feet -come and go, preserves the aspect of its great day, when it -was the fountain-head of Truth.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A solemn gladness filled the air. Surely the West is waking -to the message of the East—that message, flowing -through the marvellous art of China and Japan, through the -deep philosophies of India, the great Scriptures of the Buddhist -Faith, and many more such channels. And we who -have entered the many mansions through another gate may -share and rejoice in the truths that are a world-heritage.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was time now that I should visit the holy places, and I -took the road through the jungle, intending to stay at the -little rest-houses which exist to shelter travellers. The way -is green with grass in the middle; there are two tracks for -wheels—narrow and little used. Even the native huts may -sometimes be forty miles apart. And on either side runs -the huge wall of the jungle, holding its secret well.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Great trees, knotted with vines and dark with heavy undergrowth, -shut me in. Sometimes a troop of silver-grey -monkeys swept chattering overhead; sometimes a few red -deer would cross the road, or a blue shrike flutter radiantly -from one shelter to another. Mostly, the jungle was silent -as the grave, but living, breathing, a vast and terrible personality; -an ocean, and with the same illimitable might -and majesty. Travelling through it, I was as a fish that -swims through the green depths of water.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So I journeyed in a little bullock cart—and suddenly, -abruptly, as if dropped from heaven, sprang out of the -ocean of the jungle that bathed its feet a huge cube of rock -nearly five hundred feet high, with lesser rocks spilt about it -that would have been gigantic were it not for the first—the -famous Sigurya.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>An ancient people, led by a parricide king, took this -strange place and made of it a mighty fortress. They cut -galleries in the living rock that, like ants, they might pass -up and down unharmed from below; and on the head of -the rock—a space four acres in extent—they set a king’s -palace and pleasance, with a bathing-tank to cool the torrid -air. Then, still desiring beauty, this people frescoed -the sheer planes of this precipitous rock of Sigurya with pictures -that modern Singhalese art cannot rival. These vast -pictures represent a procession of ladies to a shrine, with -attendants bearing offerings. Only from the waist upward -are the figures visible; they rise from clouds as if floating in -the sky. The faces have an archaic beauty and dignity. -One, a queen, crowned and bare-bosomed, followed by attendants -bearing stiff lotus blooms, is beautiful indeed, but -in no Singhalese or Indian fashion—a face dark, exotic, and -heavy-lidded, like a pale orchid. It is believed the whole -rock was thus frescoed into a picture-gallery, but time and -weather have taken toll of the rest.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The Government has put steps and climbing rails, that -the height may be reached. Half-way up is a natural level, -and above it soars the remainder of the citadel, to be climbed -only by notches cut in the rock, and hand-rails as a safeguard -from the sheer fall below. And here this dead people -had done a wonderful thing. They had built a lion of -brick, so colossal that the head towered to the full height of -the ascent. It has fallen into ruin, but the great cat-paws -that remain indicate a beast some two hundred feet high. -There is a gate between the paws, and in the old days they -clambered up through the body of the lion and finally -through his throat, into the daylight of the top. Only the -paws are left, complete even to the little cat-claw at the -back of each. Surely one of the strangest approaches in -the world! Here and there the shelving of the rock overhangs -the ascent, and drops of water fall in a bright crystal -rain perpetually over the jungle so far below.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Standing upon the height, it was weirdly lovely to see the -eternal jungle monotonously swaying and waving beneath. -I thought of the strange feet that had followed these ways, -with hopes and fears so like our own. And now their fortress -is but a sunny day’s amusement for travellers from -lands unknown, and the city sitteth desolate, and the strength -of their building is resumed into the heart of nature. But -the places where men have worshipped and lifted their hands -to the Infinite are never dead. The Spirit that is Life Eternal -hovers about them, and the green that binds their broken -pillars is the green of an immortal hope.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The evening was now at hand, and, after the sun-steeped -day, the jungle gave out its good smells, beautiful earth-warm -smells like a Nature-Goddess, rising from the vast -tangle of life in the mysterious depths. You may gather -the flowers on their edge and wonder what the inmost flowers -are like that you will never see—rich, labyrinthine, beyond -all thought to paint.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The jungle is terrible as an army with banners. Sleeping -in the little rest-house when the night has fallen, it -comes close up to you, creeping, leaning over you, calling, -whispering, vibrating with secret life. A word more,—only -one,—a movement, and you would know the meaning and -be gathered into the heart of it; but always there is something -fine, impalpable, between, and you catch but a breath -of the whisper.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Very wonderful is the jungle! In the moonlight of a -small clearing I saw the huge bulk of three wild elephants -feeding. They vanished like wraiths into the depths. The -fireflies were hosting in the air like flitting diamonds. -Stealthy life and movement were about me: the jungle, wide-awake -and aware, moving on its own occasions.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A few days later I was at Anaradhapura. Once a million -people dwelt in the teeming city. Here or near was -the site visited by the famous Chinese pilgrim already mentioned, -Fa Hien. But it is in ruins; the jasper image is -gone. The tower is in the dust. A few priests watch by -the scene of so much dead greatness and receive the pilgrims -who still come with bowed heads to the Holy Places. -But Fa Hien has reached the home of all the pilgrimages—the -City of God dear and desirable in the sight of Plato -and Saint Augustine, and all the warriors of all the faiths, -and the inexorable years that have devoured the splendours -of the Kings leave untouched his tears and his hope, for -both are rooted in immortality.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He writes:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The houses of the merchants are very beautifully -adorned. The streets are smooth and level. At this time -the King, being an earnest believer in the Law, desired to -build a new monastery for this congregation. He chose a -pair of strong oxen and adorned their horns with gold, silver -and precious things. Then providing himself with a -beautiful gilded plough, the King himself ploughed round -the four sides of the allotted space, after which, ceding all -personal rights, he presented the whole to the priests.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>This must be the monastery described by a later pilgrim, -Hieuen Tsang, who journeyed from China to India about -the year 630 <span style='font-size:smaller'>A.D.</span> In visiting Ceylon, he writes of its magnificence -and especially of an upright pole on the roof “on -which is fixed a mighty ruby. This gem constantly sheds -a brilliant light which is visible day and night for a long -distance and afar off appears like a bright star.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That too is quenched in the dust. Where do the great -jewels of antiquity hide? But one is left at Anaradhapura -more precious than rubies—the famous image of the Buddha -seated alone in a forest glade, the true presentment of a -God, to whom beneath his closed eyes eternity is visible and -time the shadow of a dream. Around him surged once -the clamour of a great city, around him now the growth of -the forest, both to his vision alike—and nothing. Some -wayfarer had laid a flower at his feet when I stood there, -and a white tassel of the areca palm. The sun and moon -circle before him in this lonely place and the centuries pass -like seasons.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Forgetful is green earth; the God alone</p> -<p class='line0'>Remember everlastingly.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>The place is a village lost in the woods, but inexpressibly -holy because it contains in its own temple the sacred Bodhi -Tree which is an offshoot of that very Tree beneath which -the Lord Buddha received the Perfect Wisdom. Ceylon -desired this treasure, and they tried to break a branch from -the Tree, but dared not, for it resisted the sacrilege. But -the Princess Sanghamitta, in great awe and with trembling -hand, drew a line of vermilion about the bough, and at that -line it separated from the Tree, and the Princess planted it -in perfumed earth in a golden vase, and so brought it, attended -by honours human and superhuman, to Ceylon—to -this place, where it still stands. It is believed to be 2230 -years old.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With infinite reverence I was given two leaves, collected -as they fell; and it is difficult to look on them unmoved if -indeed this Tree be directly descended from the other, which -sheltered the triumphant conflict with evil.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The city itself is drowned in the jungle. In the green -twilight you meet a queen’s palace, with reeling pillars and -fallen capitals, beautiful with carved moonstones, for so -are called the steps of ascent. Or lost in tangle, a manger -fifty feet long for the royal elephants, or a nobly planned -bath for the queens, where it is but to close the eyes and -dream that dead loveliness floating in the waters once so -jealously guarded, now mirroring the wild woodways. A -little creeper is stronger than all our strength, and our armies -are as nothing before the silent legions of the grass.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Later, I stood before the image of that Buddha who is -to come—who in the Unchanging awaits his hour; Maitreya, -the Buddha of Love. A majestic figure, robed like a king, -for he will be royal. In his face, calm as the Sphinx, must -the world decipher its hope, if it may. Strangely enough, in -most of his images this Saviour who shall come is seated like -a man of the West, and many learned in the faith believe -that this Morning Star shall rise in the West. May he come -quickly!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I set out one day for Mihintale, in a world of dewy, virginal -loveliness, washed with morning gold, the sun shooting -bright arrows into the green shade of the trees, a cloud -of butterflies radiant as little flower angels going with me. -One splendour, rose-red, velvet-black, alighted with quivering -wings on the mouse-grey shoulder of the meek little bull -who drew my cart and so went with us.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I was glad that my companion should be a devout Buddhist, -for his reverence and delight in the beauty of his -faith taught me many things. We climbed up through trees -so still that the rustling of their shadows on the ground -might have been audible, and as we went he told me a very -ancient Buddhist story which must have reached the Island -with the Apostle Mahinda, son of the high Emperor -Ashoka, who brought the faith from his father’s court in -India. Ashoka is one of the great world-rulers, the Constantine -of the Buddhist teaching and himself a devout disciple. -This story is a Jataka or Birth Story of the Lord, one of -those to which I have already alluded, as conveying moral -teaching (and often much folk lore), and this is called “The -Dancing Peacock.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Thus have I heard. In the old days the Blessed Buddha -sat at Jetavana, and they told him of a monk who had become -drowned in luxury, eating, drinking and adorning his -person with magnificence, so that he cared nothing for the -faith. And at last they brought him before the Lord that -he might be admonished. And the Perfect One said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Is it true, monk, that despising all nobility you have -surrendered yourself to idle luxury?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And without waiting to hear a word more the monk flew -into a violent anger, and tearing off his magnificent robe he -stood naked before the Master, crying:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Then, if you like not my robes, this is the way I will go -about!’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So the bystanding monks cried out: ‘Shame, Shame!’ -and in a fury he rushed from the hall and returned to the -condition of a layman. And the Lord said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Not only now, O monks, has this man lost the Jewel of -the faith by immodesty but it was also with him in a former -life. Hear the story of the Dancing Peacock.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Very long ago in the first age of the world, the birds -chose the Golden Bird to be their King. Now the Golden -Bird had a daughter, most beautiful to see, and he gave her -her choice of a husband, after the ancient manner of India, -calling together all the birds of the Himalaya. And he sent -for his daughter, saying: “Now come and choose!” And -looking she saw the Peacock with a neck of gold and emeralds -and a train of spread jewels, and instantly she said: -“Let this be my husband!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So all the birds approached the Peacock, saying:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Noble Peacock, the Princess has set her heart upon you. -Therefore rejoice with humility.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But the Peacock, walking arrogantly, replied:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Up to this day none of you would recognize the greatness -that was in me. Now instantly do homage to my majesty!’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And so intoxicated was he with pride that he began to -dance, spreading his wings and swaying his head, and altogether -conducting himself like a drunken man who cares -not at all for decency. And horror seized the Golden Bird -and he said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘This fellow has broken loose from all sense of shame—how -could it be that I should give my Princess to such as -he?’ And he uttered this:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Pleasant is your cry. Jewelled is your back. The -feathers of your tail are glorious, but, Sir, to such a dancer, -I can give no daughter of mine!’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And he bestowed his Princess immediately upon a bird of -modest behaviour, and the Peacock, covered with shame, -fled away.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Therefore, brethren, this monk has now lost the Jewel -of the faith as he once lost a fair wife. For in a former -birth, the Peacock was this shameless monk, but I myself -was the Golden Bird.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And this is a lesson also upon the stately calm which -marks the gentleman according to Oriental opinion. It is -the low-born only who may hurry and storm. Other stories -I heard, for my friend was a student of ancient things, and -this belief in lives past and to come is the spiritual life blood -of the Orient. It is the mete-yard of justice. He asked -me whether the Christian faith explicitly denied it, and I -could only reply—No; quoting that strange passage of -the Blind Man, when disciples questioning the Christ—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Did this man sin or his parents, that he was born blind?”—pass -unrebuked for the implication.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The Hill of Mihintale rises abruptly as Sigurya from the -forests, and the very air about it is holy, for it was on this -great hill that Mahinda, mysteriously transported from -India, alighted bewildered as one waking from a dream. -Here the King, Tissa, seeing the saint seated beneath a tree, -heard a voice he could not gainsay that called his name -three times; and so, approaching with his nobles, he received -the Teaching of the Blessed One.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The hill is climbed by wonderful carved shallow steps, -broken now, and most beautiful with an overgrowth of -green. At the sides are beds of the Sensitive Plant, with its -frail pink flowers. They would faint and fall if touched, -and here you would not even breathe roughly upon them, for -Buddhists regard the shrinking creatures as living and hold -it sinful to cause such evident suffering.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Descending the grey steps, the shade and sunshine dappling -his yellow robe and bared shoulder with noble colour, -came a priest, on his way to visit the sick of the little village. -He stopped and spoke. I told him I had come from -visiting the shrines of Burma, and he desired me to give -him a description of some matters I had seen there. I did -so, and we talked for some time, and it was then mentioned -that my food, like his own, necessitated no taking of life. -Instantly his whole face softened as he said that was glad -news to hear. It was the fulfilling of a high commandment. -Would I receive his blessing, and his prayer that the truth -might enlighten me in all things? He bestowed both, and, -having made his gift, went upon his way with the dignity -of perfect serenity. That little circumstance of food (as -some would call it) has opened many a closed door to me -in Asia.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At the top of the hill is a deep shadowy rock-pool, with a -brow of cliff overhanging it; and this is named the Cobra’s -Bath, for it is believed that in the past there was a cobra -who used, with his outspread hood, to shelter the saint, Mahinda, -from the torrid sun, and who was also so much a little -servant of the Law that none feared and all mourned him -when he passed upon his upward way in the chain of existences. -Here, above the pool where he loved to lie in the -clear cool, they sculptured a great cobra, with three hooded -heads, rising, as it were, from the water. It was most sinuously -beautiful and looked like the work of a great and -ancient people, gathering the very emblem of Fear into the -great Peace. On the topmost height was the <span class='it'>stupa</span>, or -shrine, of Mahinda, incasing its holy relic, and the caves -where his priests dwelt and still dwell. I entered one, at -the invitation of a Bhikku, an old man with singularly beautiful -eyes, set in a face of wistful delicacy. He touched my -engraved ring and asked what it might mean. Little enough -to such as he, whose minds are winged things and flutter -in the blue tranquillities far above the earth!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The caves are many, with a rock-roof so low that one -cannot stand upright—a strange, dim life, it would seem, -but this Bhikku spoke only of the peace of it, the calm that -falls with sunset and that each dawn renews. <span class='it'>I</span> could not -doubt this—it was written upon his every gesture. He gave -me his blessing, and his prayer that I might walk forever in -the Way of Peace. With such friends as these the soul -is at home. Peace. It is indeed the salutation of Asia, -which does not greet you with a desire for health or prosperity -as in the West, but only—Peace.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I would willingly tell more of my seekings and findings in -Ceylon, for they were many and great. But I pass on to -the little drowsy hill town of Badulla, where the small bungalows -nest in their gardens of glorious flowers and vines. I -sat in the churchyard, where the quiet graves of English -and Singhalese are sinking peacefully into oblivion. It was -Sunday, with a Sabbath calm upon the world. A winding -path led up to the open door of the little English church, a -sweet breeze swayed the boughs and ruffled the long grass of -the graves; the butterflies, small Psyches fluttered their -parable in the air about me. A clear voice from the church -repeated the Lord’s Prayer, and many young voices followed. -It was a service for the Singhalese children -who have been baptized into the Christian Faith. They -sang of how they had been brought out of darkness and -the shadow of death and their feet set upon the Way of -Peace.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Surely it is so. When was that Way closed to any who -sought? But because man must follow his own categorical -imperative, I repeated to myself, when they were silent, the -words of the poet Abdul Fazl, which he wrote at the command -of the Emperor Akbar as an inscription for a Temple -in Kashmir:—</p> - -<div class='blockquoter9'> - -<p class='pindent'>“O God, in every temple I see people that see Thee, and in -every language they praise Thee.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>If it be a mosque, men murmur the holy prayer, and if it be a -Christian church they ring the bell from love to Thee.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Sometimes I frequent the Christian cloister, and sometimes the -mosque, but it is Thou whom I seek from temple to temple.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Thine elect have no dealings with heresy or orthodoxy, for -neither of these stands behind the screen of thy Truth.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Heresy to the heretic and religion to the orthodox!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But the dust of the rose-petal belongs to the heart of the -perfume-seller!”</p> - -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>Yes,—and an ancient Japanese poet, going yet deeper, -says this thing: “So long as the mind of a man is in accord -with the Truth, the Gods will hear him though he do -not pray.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I passed the night at a little rest-house and next day set -out on the long journey to Polonnarewa, and beyond that to -Trincomali, through a wild part of Ceylon, stopping each -night at the rest-houses which mark the way. Jungle in -India is often mere scrub; this is thousands of acres of -mighty forest. A small road has been driven through it, -and on either side rises the dark and secret wall of trees, impenetrable -for miles, knitted with creepers and blind with -undergrowth—a dangerous mystery.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Thousand eyeballs under hoods,</p> -<p class='line0'>Have you by the hair.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>It seems that every movement is watched, that strained ears -listen to every breath from the secrecy that can never be -pierced.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Much farther on the forest opens into the ancient tank -of Minneri, for these great artificial lakes of the bygone -Kings here and in India are called tanks. It is a glorious -lake twenty miles in circumference and I saw it first with -the mountains, exquisite in form and colour, rising behind it -in the rose and gold of a great sunset. Some forgotten King -made it to water the country, and there are still the very -sluices unbroken though choked by masses of fallen masonry. -It is the work of great engineers. No place could -be more lovely—the silver fish leaping in translucent water, -and one pouched pelican with its ax-like beak drifting -lazily in a glory so dazzling, that one could only glimpse it a -moment in the dipping sparkles of the reflected sun. The -way, like the ascent to Mihintale, was banked with masses -of the Sensitive Plant, lovely with its fragile pink flowers and -delicately folding and dropping leaves, fainting as you brush -them in passing.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But the lake—the wide expanse, calm as heaven and a -shimmer of rose and blue and gold! I lingered to watch -it—the strange beautiful grotesque of the great bird floating -above its own perfect image. It was evening and the -jungle was sweet with all the scents drawn out of it during -the long sun-steeped day—heavenly scents that come from -the teeming life in the mysterious forests, fresh forests germinating -on the ruins of the old—murmuring, calling, vibrating -with life and wonder and strange existences, and -their endless chain of blossom and decay.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It grew dark soon after Minneri, and the fireflies were glittering -about us and the moonlight white on the narrow way. -A whispering silence filled the air with unseen presences -as of the feet that long, long centuries ago trod this way on -their errands of pleasure or pain to the dead city of my goal. -I could almost see its spectral towers and palaces down the -moon-blanched glades. Illusion—nothing more.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The driver missed the track to Polonnarewa, but that mattered -little, so wonderful was the night in the lonely place -and the great dark where once a mighty people moved, and -now but the moon and stars circle before a dead majesty.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But at the long last we found our way and the little rest-house -which stands where stood the royal city, near a dim -glimmer of water. The only accommodation was a chair, -but that was welcome, and when I woke in the grey dawn -she came gliding with silver feet over the loveliest lake rippling -up to the steps of the fairy house in the woods, and -peopled by the glorious rose lotus, grown by the ancient people -for the service of the Temples. And the traveller whom -I met there went out before breakfast and brought in for -provender a pea-hen, a wood pigeon, and a great grey fish -from the lake. For myself, I eat like a Buddhist priest -and am content,—living foods were not for me.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The ruins at Polonnarewa are wonderful indeed, much -more perfect than those of the better known Anaradhapura, -though it does not offer, like the latter, the marvellous row -of the Buddhas who have fulfilled their mission and that -Buddha of Love who is yet to come. All about are temples -with colossal Buddhas, palaces, the strangely sculptured -stone rails which are so distinctively Buddhist surrounding -richly carved shrines. Hinduism mingled with Buddhism -also. Some of these beautiful relics have been dug out of -the jungle strata, some reclaimed from the invading growths -which are so all-obliterating in a tropic country, and no -doubt there is as much more to be discovered. The carved -work is exquisitely lovely. How strong is the passion for -beauty—in the very ends of the earth it is found, and surely -it confirms the Platonic teaching that it is a reflection of -that passion of joy in which the Creator beheld his work on -the seventh day and knew that it was good.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I cannot describe the wonder of passing through these -glades and lawns and seeing the great dagobas, those mighty -buildings of brick, but now waving with greenery, enshrining -each its holy relic. Would that it were possible to imagine -the city which dwelt under their shadow! But the -homes of men pass very swiftly away. It is only the homes -of their souls which abide. Yet the jungle is more wonderful -than what it buries. The sunlit walls of green guard -the road jealously. The sun-flecks only struggle a few -inches within that line, and then—trackless secrecy. A -bird flew out, jewelled, gorgeous, “Half angel and half bird.” -Are there greater wonders within? Who can tell? It is -sometimes death to attempt to lift the veil of Isis. I saw -the gravestone of a young man who for all his strength and -youth was lost in the jungle—caught in the poisoned sweetness -of her embrace and so died. It may have been a lonely -and fearful death, and yet again—who knows! There are -compensations of which we know nothing.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I stayed at the little rest-house of Kantelai on its lake -with the jungle creeping and whispering about it— “Dark -mother ever gliding near with soft feet.” Days to be remembered—unspeakably -beautiful—they leave some precious -deposit in the memory almost more lovely than the sight -itself, as in the world of thought the spirit is more than the -body.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And for the end to my journey the great and noble harbour -of Trincomali! I wonder why tourists so seldom go -there, but the ways of the tourist pass understanding. It -winds about in lakes of sea blue among palms and coral -bights and glittering beaches. Long ago, the people drifting -over from India built a temple where the old fort now -stands, and though thus polluted the site is still holy and -you may see the Brahman priest cast offerings into the sea -from a ledge high up the cliff, with the worshipping people -about him. Then the Portuguese swept down upon Ceylon -in their great naval days when they were the Sweepers of the -Sea, and they destroyed the temple and built their fort. -And the Dutch followed, and the Portuguese vanished, and -the French conquered the Dutch, and again the Dutch the -French, and then the English, hawking over the Seven Seas, -pounced like the osprey, and the Dutch sovereignty passed -into their keeping. Did I not say the Island had many -masters?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So the English made this a great fortified place, humming -with naval and military activity; men-of-war lying in the -bay, guns bristling in the beautiful old fort that guards the -cliff. And now all that too is gone—blown away like a -wreath of mist, and the only soldiers and sailors are those -who will stay forever in the little grave-place under the -palms, and if it so continues I daresay the jungle will take -Trincomali as it has taken the City of Kings.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A beautiful place. I wandered on the beach among the -shells one marvelled to see as a child, when sailor friends -gave them into eager hands—deep brown freckled polished -things, leopard-spotted and ivory-lipped, and so smooth that -the hand slips off the perfect surface. Delicate frailties of -opal and pearl shimmering with mystic colour, spiny grotesques -with long thorned stems—there they all lay for the -gathering. And at last I went up into the old fort.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It covers many acres on the cliff and the jungle is steadily -conquering the empty bungalows and fortifications. It is -very old, for the Dutch built it in 1650. Now in the thickets -the forsaken guns make an empty bravado like toothless -lions. I saw a deer and her fawn come peering shyly -through the bushes, and they fled before me. The casements -are empty and a flagless flagstaff looks over the -heavenly calm of the sea.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Almost lost in the shade I found some old Dutch graves, -very square and formal—a something of the rigidity of the -burgomaster about them still, as of stiff-ruffed men and -women. “Here sleeps in God—” said one mossy inscription -(but in Dutch)—and then a break, and then “Johanna” -and another break, and only a word here and there and a -long obliterated date. And the Dutch were masters and -Johanna slept in the ground of her people as securely as if -it had been The Hague itself. So it must then have seemed. -And now it is English, and whose next? Truly the fashion -of this world passeth away! They were touching, those -old tombs, with inscriptions that once were watered with -tears, that no one now cares to decipher. And there they -lie forgotten in the sighing trees, and the world goes by. -The dominion of oblivion is secure, whatever that of death -may be.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I climbed down to a casement in the cliff, half-way to the -sea, a little shelf overlooking the blue transparence that met -the blue horizon, and wondered what the grave God-fearing -talk of the Dutchmen had been as they leaned over the parapet, -discussing the ways of the heathen and the encroachments -of the British. And from there I made my way to -the rocks below with the brilliant water heaving about them. -Some large fish of the most perfect forget-me-not blue shading -into periwinkle mauve on the fins were playing before -me, and as they rolled over, or a ripple took them they displayed -the underside, a faint rose pink. Such beautiful -happy creatures in the wash of the wandering water clear -and liquid as light! Sometimes they wavered like moons -under a ripple, a blot of heavenliest blue, submerged and -quivering, sometimes a shoal of black fish barred with gold -swam in among them, beautiful to see. I could have stayed -all day, for it was heavenly cool, with a soft sea breeze blowing -through the rocks, but even as I watched a great brown -monster came wallowing through the water, and my beauties -fled like swallows.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The touch of tragedy was not wanting, for high on the -cliff was a little pillar to the memory of a Dutch girl who -fell in love long ago with an Englishman—a false lover, who -sailed away and left her heartbroken. Here she watched his -sails lessening along the sky, and as they dipped below the -horizon, she threw herself over the cliff in unendurable -anguish.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A tragic story, but it is all so long ago that it has fallen -back into the beauty of nature and is now no more sad than -a sunset that casts its melancholy glory before it fades. -Yet I wonder whether in all the hide and seek of rebirth she -has caught up somewhere with her Englishman! She knows -all about Psyche’s wings by this time, and he too must have -gained a dear-bought wisdom through “the great mercy of -the gift of departing,” as the Buddhists call it . . . they to -whom death is so small an episode in so long a story.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I sat by the pillar and watched the dying torch of the -sunset extinguished in the sea—a sea of glass mingled with -fire. And very quietly the stars appeared one by one in a -violet sky and it was night.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:1.2em;'>THE WONDERFUL PILGRIMAGE TO AMARNATH</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch10'>THE WONDERFUL PILGRIMAGE TO AMARNATH</h1></div> - -<p class='pindent'>In all India there is nothing more wonderful than the pilgrimages -of millions, which set like tidal waves at certain -seasons to certain sacrosanct places—the throngs that -flock to holy Benares, to Hardwar, and to that meeting of -the waters at Prayag, where the lustral rites purify soul and -body, and the pilgrims return shriven and glad. But of all -the pilgrimages in India the most touching, the most marvellous, -is that to Amarnath, nearly twelve thousand feet up -in the Himalayas. The cruel difficulties to be surmounted, -the august heights to be climbed (for a part of the way is -much higher than the height at which the Cave stands), the -wild and terrible beauty of the journey, and the glorious -close when the Cave is reached, make this pilgrimage the -experience of a lifetime even for a European. What must it -not be for a true believer? Yet, in the deepest sense, I -should advise none to make it who is not a true believer—who -cannot sympathize to the uttermost with the wave of -faith and devotion that sends these poor pilgrims climbing -on torn and wearied feet to the great Himalayan heights, -where they not infrequently lay down their lives before -reaching the silver pinnacles that hold their hearts’ desire.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I have myself made the pilgrimage, and it was one of the -deepest experiences of my life; while, as for the beauty and -wonder of the journey, all words break down under the effort -to express them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But first for a few words about the God who is the object of -devotion. The Cave is sacred to Siva—the Third Person of -the Hindu Trinity; that Destroyer who, in his other aspects, -is the Creator and Preserver. He is the God especially of -the Himalayas—the Blue-Throated God, from the blue -mists of the mountains that veil him. The Crescent in his -hair is the young moon, resting on the peak that is neighbour -to the stars. The Ganges wanders in the matted forests of -his hair before the maddening torrents fling their riches to -the Indian plains, even as the snow-rivers wander in the -mountain pine forests. He is also Nataraja—Lord of the -Cosmic Dance; and one of the strangest and deepest-wrought -parables in the world is that famous image where, in a wild -ecstasy, arms flung out, head flung back in a passion of motion, -he dances the Tandavan, the whole wild joy of the -figure signifying the cosmic activities of Creation, Maintenance -and Destruction. “For,” says a Tamil text, “our -Lord is a Dancer, who like the heat latent in firewood, diffuses -his power in mind and matter, and makes them dance -in their turn.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The strange affinity of this conception with the discoveries -of science relating to the eternal dance of the atom -and electron gives it the deepest interest. I would choose -this aspect of the God as that which should fill the mind of -the Amarnath pilgrim. Let him see the Great God Mahadeo -(Magnus Deus), with the drum in one hand which symbolizes -creative sound—the world built, as it were, to rhythm -and music. Another hand is upraised bidding the worshipper, -“Fear not!” A third hand points to his foot, the -refuge where the soul may cling. The right foot rests lightly -on a demon—to his strength, what is it? A nothing, the -mere illusion of reality! In his hair, crowned with the -crescent moon, sits the Ganges, a nymph entangled in its -forest. This is the aspect of Mahadeo which I carried in -my own mind as I made the pilgrimage, for thus is embodied -a very high mysticism, common to all the faiths.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Of all the deities of India Maheshwara is the most complex -and bewildering in his many aspects. He is the Great -Ascetic, but he is also Lord of the beautiful daughter of the -Himalaya,—Uma, Parwati, Gauri, Girija, the Snowy One, -the Inaccessible, the Virgin, the Mystic Mother of India, to -give but a few of her many and lovely names. She too has -her differing aspects. As Kali, she is the goddess of death -and destruction; as Parwati, the very incarnation of the -charm and sweetness of the Eternal Femine. As Uma she -is especially Himalayan.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In the freezing mountain lake of Manasarovar she did -age-long penance for her attempt to win the heart of the -Great Ascetic, the Supreme Yogi,—her lovely body floating -like a lily upon its icy deeps, and so, at long last, winning -him for ever. She is the seeker of mountains, the Dweller -in the Windhya Hills, the complement of her terrible Lord -and Lover, whose throne is Mount Kailasa. Yet in some -of his moods she must be completely absorbed and subjugated -to ensure his companionship, for he is the archetype -of the perfected human yogi of whom says the ancient Song -Celestial that “he abides alone in a secret place without desire -and without possessions, upon a firm seat, with the -working of the mind and senses held in check, with body, -head and neck in perfect equipoise, meditating in order -that he may reach the boundless Abyss; he who knows the -infinite joy that lies beyond the senses and so becomes like -an unflickering lamp in a lonely place.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>This union is possible to Parwati and her Lord. So dear -are they each to the other that they are often represented as -a single image of which one half is male, the other female, -the dual nature in perfect harmony in the Divine.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Thus then is the Great God to be visited in the high-uplifted -secret shrine of the mountains, which are themselves -the Lotus flower of creation. At dawn, suffused through all -their snows with glowing rose they dominate Indian thought -as the crimson lotus of Brahma the Creator. At noon, blue -in the radiant unveiled blue of the sky they are the blue -Lotus of Vishnu the Preserver, the Pillar of Cosmic Law. -At night, when all the earth is rapt in <span class='it'>samadhi</span>, the mystic -ecstasy, they are the snowy Lotus, throne of Siva, Maheshwara -the Great God, the Supreme Yogi when he dreams -worlds beneath the dreaming moon upon his brow.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And India is herself a petal of the World Lotus of Asia as -the Asiatic mind conceives it. Look at Asia of the maps -and reverence the Flower which thrones all the Gods of -Asia.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The Cave at Amarnath is sacred because a spring, eternally -frozen, has in its rush taken the shape of the holy -Lingam, which is the symbol of reproduction and therefore -of Life. This is also the Pillar of the Universe—that Pillar -which the Gods sought to measure, the one flying upward, -the other downward, for aeons, seeking the beginning and -the end, and finding none. Yet again, it is the Tree of Life, -which has its roots in Eternity, and branches through the -mythology of many peoples. And if there are degenerated -forms of this worship, surely the same may be said of many -others. And it is needful to know these things in order to -realize the significance of the worship.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The pilgrimage can be made only in July and August. -Before and after, a barrier of snow and ice closes the way, -and makes the Cave a desolation.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The start is made from Pahlgam, a tiny village on the -banks of the Lidar River in Kashmir, where it leaps from -the great glacier of Kolahoi to join the Jhelum River in the -Happy Valley. Pahlgam itself stands at a height of about -eight thousand feet.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The day before we started there was a great thunderstorm, -the grandest I have ever known. The mountains -were so close on each side that they tossed the thunder backwards -and forwards to each other, and the shattering and -roaring of the echoes was like the battles of the Gods or -the rolling of Maheshwara’s mighty drum in the mountain -hollows, while the continuous blue glare of the lightning -was almost appalling. It was strange to feel only a little -web of canvas between ourselves and that elemental strife -when the rain followed as if the fountains of the great deep -were broken up—cold as snow, stinging like hail, and so -steady that it looked like crystal harpstrings as it fell. Yet -next day we waked to a silver rain-washed world, sparkling -with prisms of rain and dew; fresh snow on the mountains, -and delicate webs of soft blue mist caught like smoke in the -pines.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So we set forth from Pahlgam, with our cavalcade of -rough hill ponies carrying the tents and provisions and all -our substance, and began our march by climbing up the -river that flows from those eternal heights into the Pahlgam -valley. Much of the way can be ridden if one rides very -slowly and carefully for these wonderful animals are sure-footed -as cats; but the track is often terrifying—broken -boulders and the like. If the ponies were not marvels, it -could not be done; and if one were not a safe rider, one certainly -could not stick on. The pony gives a strong hoist -of his fore-legs, and you are up one rock and hanging on by -his withers; then a strong hoist of the hind legs and you are -nearly over his neck; and this goes on for hours; and when -it is beyond the pony you climb on your feet, and ford the -torrents as best you may.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Up and up the steep banks of the river we climbed, among -the pines and mighty tumbled boulders. Up by the cliffs, -where the path hangs and trembles over the water roaring -beneath. On the opposite side the mountains soared above -the birches and pines, and the torrents hung down them like -mist, falling, falling from crag to crag, and shattering like -spray-dust as they fell. Once a mighty eagle soared above -us, balancing on the wind, and then floated away without a -single motion of his wings—wonderful to see; and the spread -of his wings was greater than the height of the tallest man.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We had long passed the last few huts, and the track -wound steadily higher, when suddenly growing on us, I -heard a deep musical roar like the underlying bass of an -orchestra—the full-chorded voice of many waters. And -as we turned a corner where the trail hung like a line round -the cliff, behold, a mighty gorge of pines and uplifted hills, -and the river pouring down in a tremendous waterfall, boiling -and foaming white as it fell into the raging pit beneath.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>What a sight! We stopped and looked, every sense -steeped in the wonder of it. For the air was cool with the -coolness that comes like breath off a river; our ears were -full of the soft thunder; the smell of pines was like the taste -of a young world in one’s mouth; yet it was all phantasmal, -in a way, as if it could not be real. I watched the lovely -phantom, for it hung like a thing unreal between heaven and -earth, until it grew dreamlike to me and dyed my brain with -sound and colour, and it was hard indeed to pass on.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That night we camped in a mountain valley some two -thousand feet above Pahlgam. It was like climbing from -story to story in a House of Wonder. The river was rushing -by our tents when they were pitched, pale green and -curling back upon itself, as if it were loath to leave these -pure heights, and the mountains stood about us like a prison, -almost as if we might go no farther. And when I stood -outside my tent just before turning in, a tremulous star was -poised on one of the peaks, like the topmost light on a Christmas -tree, and the Great Bear which in India is the constellation -of the Seven Rishis, or Sages, lay across the sky glittering -frostily in the blue-blackness.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I had a narrow escape that day; for, as I was leading the -cavalcade, I met a wild hill-rider in the trail between two -great rocks, and his unbroken pony kicked out at me savagely -with his foreleg and caught me above the ankle. Luckily, -they do not shoe their horses here; but it was pretty -bad for a bit, and I was glad of the night’s rest.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Next day we started and rounded out of the tiny valley; -and lo! on the other side another river, flowing apparently -out of a great arch in the mountainside. Out it poured, rejoicing -to be free; and when I looked, it was flowing, not -from the mountain but from a snow-bridge. Mighty falls -of snow had piled up at the foot of the mountain, as they -slipped from its steeps; and then the snow, melting above, -had come down as a torrent and eaten its way through the -wide arch of this cave. Often one must cross a river on -these snow-bridges, and at a certain stage of melting they -are most dangerous; for, if the snow should give, there may -be frightful depths beneath.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Here first I noticed how beautiful were the flowers of the -heights. The men gathered and brought me tremulous white -and blue columbines, and wild wallflowers, orange-coloured -and so deeply scented that I could close my eyes and call -up a cottage garden, and the beehives standing in sedate -rows under the thatched eaves. And there was a glorious -thistle, new to me, as tall as a man, well armed and girded -with blue and silver spears and a head of spiky rays. -Bushes, also, like great laurels, but loaded with rosy berries -that the Kashmiris love.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We turned then round a huge fallen rock, green and moist -with hanging ferns, and shining with the spray of the river, -and before us was a mountain, and an incredible little trail -winding up it, and that was our way. I looked and doubted. -It is called the Pisu, or Flea Ascent, on the dubious ground -that it takes a flea’s activity to negotiate it. Of course, it -was beyond the ponies, except here and there, on what I -called breathers, and so we dismounted. The men advised -us to clutch the ponies’ tails, and but for that help it would -have been difficult to manage. My heart was pumping in -my throat, and I could feel the little pulses beating in my -eyes, before I had gone far, and every few minutes we had -to stop; for even the guides were speechless from the climb, -and I could see the ponies’ hearts beating hard and fast under -the smooth coats.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But still we held on, and now beside us were blooming the -flower-gardens of the brief and brilliant Himalayan summer—beds -of delicate purple anemones, gorgeous golden ranunculus -holding its golden shields to the sun, orange poppies, -masses of forget-me-nots of a deep, glowing blue—a <span class='it'>burning</span> -blue, not like the fair azure of the Western flower, but -like the royal blue of the Virgin’s robe in a Flemish missal. -And above these swayed the bells of the columbines on their -slender stems, ranging from purest white, through a faint, -misty blue, to a deep, glooming purple. We could hardly -go on for joy of the flowers. It was a marvel to see all these -lovely things growing wild and uncared for, flinging their -sweetness on the pure air, and clothing the ways with beauty. -And at each turn fresh snow-peaks emerged against the infinite -blue of the sky—some with frail wisps of white cloud -caught in the spires, and some bold and clear as giants -ranged for battle—the lotus petals of the Infinite Flower.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And so we climbed up and reached another story, and -lay down to rest and breathe before we went farther up into -wonderland.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The top was a grassy “marg,” or meadow, cloven down to -the heart of the earth by a fierce river. Around it was a -vast amphitheatre of wild crags and peaks; and beneath -these, but ever upward, lay our trail. But the meadow -was like the field in Sicily where Persephone was gathering -flowers when she was snatched away by Dis to reign in the -Underworld. I remembered Leighton’s picture of her, floating -up from the dead dark, like a withered flower, and -stretching her hands to the blossoms of the earth once more. -I never saw such flowers; they could scarcely be seen elsewhere.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>And here the myriad blossoms lay</p> -<p class='line0'>In shattered rainbows on the grass.</p> -<p class='line0'>Exulting in their little day</p> -<p class='line0'>They laughed aloud to see us pass.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>We left them in their merriment,—</p> -<p class='line0'>The singing angels of the snows,—</p> -<p class='line0'>And still we climbed the steep ascent</p> -<p class='line0'>Along the sunward way it knows.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>The snow had slipped off the meadow,—was rushing away -in the thundering river far below,—and the flowers were -crowding each other, rejoicing in the brief gladness of summer -before they should be shrouded again under the chilly -whiteness. But their colour took revenge on it now. They -glowed, they sang and shouted for joy—such was the vibration -of their radiance! I have never dreamed of such a -thing before.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And then came our next bad climb, up the bed of a ragged -mountain torrent and across it, with the water lashing at us -like a whip. I do not know how the ponies did it. They -were clutched and dragged by the ears and tails, and a man -seized me by the arms and hauled me up and round the -face of a precipice, where to miss one step on the loose stones -would have been to plunge into depths I preferred not to -look at. Then another ascent like the Flea, but shorter, -and we were a story higher, in another wild marg, all frosted -silver with edelweiss, and glorious with the flowers of another -zone—flowers that cling to the bare and lichened rock -and ask no foothold of earth.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That was a wild way. We climbed and climbed steadfastly, -sometimes riding, sometimes walking, and round us -were rocks clothed with rose-red saxifrage, shaded into pink, -and myriads of snowy stars, each with a star of ruby in its -heart. Clouds still of the wonderful forget-me-not climbed -with us. Such rock gardens! No earthly hand could plant -those glowing masses and set them against the warm russets -and golds of the lower crags, lifted up into this mighty sky -world. The tenderness of the soft form and radiant colour -of these little flowers in the cruel grasp of the rocks, yet -softening them into grace with the short summer of their -lives, is exquisitely touching. It has the pathos of all fragility -and brief beauty.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Later we climbed a great horn of rock, and rounded a -slender trail, and before was another camping-place—the -Shisha-Nag Lake among the peaks. We saw its green river -first, bursting through a rocky gateway, and then, far below, -the lake itself,—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>We passed the frozen sea of glass</p> -<p class='line0'>Where never human foot has trod,</p> -<p class='line0'>Green as a clouded chrysoprase</p> -<p class='line0'>And lonely as a dream of God.—</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>reflecting the snowy pinnacles above. The splintered peaks -stand about it. Until July it is polished ice, and out of one -side opens a solemn ante-chapel blocked with snow. The -lake itself is swept clear and empty. The moon climbs -the peaks and looks down, and the constellations swing -above it. A terrible, lonely place, peopled only by shadows. -It was awful to think of the pomps of sunrise, noon, and -sunset passing overhead, and leaving it to the night and -dream which are its only true companions. It should never -be day there—always black, immovable Night, crouching -among the snows and staring down with all her starlight eyes -into that polished icy mirror.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>For days we went. We left their mirth</p> -<p class='line0'>For where the springs of light arise,</p> -<p class='line0'>And dawns lean over to the earth,</p> -<p class='line0'>And stars are split to lower skies</p> -<p class='line0'>White, white the wastes around us lay,</p> -<p class='line0'>The wild peaks gathered round to see</p> -<p class='line0'>Our fires affront the awful day,</p> -<p class='line0'>Our speech the torrents’ giant glee.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>We camped above the lake, and it was cold—cold! A -bitter wind blew through the rocks—a wind shrilling in a -waste land. Now and then it shifted a little and brought -the hoarse roar of some distant torrent or the crash of an -avalanche. And then, for the first time I heard the cry of -the marmot—a piercing note which intensifies the desolation. -We saw them too, sitting by their burrows; and then -they shrieked and dived and were gone.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We made a little stir of life for a while—the men pitching -our tents and running here and there to gather stunted -juniper bushes for fuel, and get water from an icy stream -that rippled by. But I knew we were only interlopers. -We would be gone next day, and chilly silence would settle -down on our blackened camp-fires.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In the piercing cold that cut like a knife I went out at -night, to see the lake, a solemn stillness under the moon. I -cannot express the awe of the solitudes. As long as I could -bear the cold, I intruded my small humanity; and then one -could but huddle into the camp-bed and try to shut out the -immensities, and sleep our little human sleep, with the camp-fires -flickering through the curtains, and the freezing stars -above.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Next day we had to climb a very great story higher. Up -and up the track went steadily, with a sheer fall at one side -and a towering wall on the other. We forded a river where -my feet swung into it as the pony, held by two men, plunged -through. It is giddy, dazzling work to ford these swift -rivers. You seem to be stationary; only the glitter of the -river sweeps by, and the great stones trip the pony. You -think you are done, and then somehow and suddenly you are -at the other side.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And here a strange thing happened. When the morning -came, we found that a <span class='it'>sadhu</span>—a wandering pilgrim—had -reached the same height on his way to the Cave. He was -resting by the way, very wearied, and shuddering with the -cold. So I ventured to speak to him and welcome him to -our fire and to such food (rice) as he could accept from -some of our men; and there, when we stopped for the mid-day -meal, he sat among us like a strange bird dropped from -alien skies. Sometimes these men are repulsive enough, but -this one—I could have thought it was Kabir himself! -Scrupulously clean, though poor as human being could be, -he would have come up from the burning plains with his -poor breast bare to the scarring wind, but that some charitable -native had given him a little cotton coat. A turban, -a loin-cloth looped between the legs, leaving them naked, -grass sandals on feet coarse with travelling, and a string of -roughly carved wooden beads such as the Great Ascetic himself -wears in his images were all his possessions, except the -little wallet that carried his food—rice and a kind of lentil. -I thought of Epictetus, the saint of ancient Rome, and his -one tattered cloak.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>  A wandering sadhu; far he came,</p> -<p class='line0'>His thin feet worn by endless roads;</p> -<p class='line0'>Yet in his eyes there burnt the flame</p> -<p class='line0'>That light the altars of the Gods.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>The keen wind scarred his naked breast.</p> -<p class='line0'>I questioned him, and all the while</p> -<p class='line0'>The quiet of a heart at rest</p> -<p class='line0'>Shone in his secret patient smile.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Yes, he had come from hot Bengal,</p> -<p class='line0'>From scorching plains to peaks of ice;</p> -<p class='line0'>Took what was given as chance might fall,</p> -<p class='line0'>And begged his little dole of rice.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“And have you friends, or any child?</p> -<p class='line0'>Or any home?” He shook his head,</p> -<p class='line0'>And threw his hands out as he smiled,</p> -<p class='line0'>And “Empty,” was the word he said.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>And so he sat beside our fire,</p> -<p class='line0'>As strange birds drop from alien skies,</p> -<p class='line0'>Gentle but distant, never nigher,</p> -<p class='line0'>With that remoteness in his eyes.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>This was a man of about fifty-five, tall, thin, with a sensitive -face, yet with something soldierly about him; dignified -and quiet, with fine hawk-like features and strained bright -eyes in hollow caves behind the gaunt cheek-bones. A beautiful -face in both line and expression; a true mystic, if ever -I saw one!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He told me he had walked from Bengal (look at the map -and see what that means!) and that the poor people were -very kind and gave him a little rice sometimes, when they -had it, and sometimes a tiny coin, asking only his prayers in -return. That he needed very little, never touching meat or -fish or eggs, which he did not think could be pleasing to God. -For sixteen years he had been thus passing from one sacred -place to the other—from the holy Benares to Hardwar where -the Ganges leaves the hills, and farther still, praying—praying -to the One. “There is One God,” he said; and again I -thought of Kabir, the supreme mystic, the incarnate Joy, who -also wandered through India,—striving, like this man:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>  He has looked upon God, and his eyeballs are clear;</p> -<p class='line0'>There was One, there is One, and but One, saith Kabir,—</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>  To learn and discern of his brother the clod,</p> -<p class='line0'>  And his brother the beast, and his brother the God.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>But does it not fill one with thoughts? That man had a -soul at rest and a clear purpose. And the Christ and the -Buddha were sadhus; and if it seem waste to spend the sunset -of a life in prayer, that may be the grossest of errors. -We do not know the rules of the Great Game. How should -we judge? So he came with us, striding behind the ponies -with his long steadfast stride, and his company was pleasing -to me.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That was a wondrous climb. Had any God ever such an -approach to his sanctuary as this Great God of the heights? -We climbed through a huge amphitheatre of snows, above -us the ribbed and crocketed crags of a mighty mountain. -It was wild architecture—fearful buttresses, springing -arches, and terrible foundations rooted in the earth’s heart; -and, above, a high clerestory, where the Dawn might walk -and look down through the hollow eyeholes of the windows -into the deeps of the precipice below.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I suppose the architect was the soft persistence of water, -for I could see deep beach-marks on the giant walls. But -there it stood, crowned with snow, and we toiled up it, and -landed on the next story, the very water-shed of these high -places—a point much higher than the goal of our journey. -And that was very marvellous, for we were now in the bare -upper world, with only the sky above us, blue and burning -on the snow, the very backbone of the range; and, like the -Great Divide, the rivers were flowing both ways, according -to the inclination of the source.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Before us lay snow which must be crossed, and endless -streams and rivers half or wholly buried in snow. That -was a difficult time. The ponies were slipping, sliding, -stumbling, yet brave, capable, wary as could be. I shall -for ever respect these mountain ponies. They are sure-footed -as goats and brave as lions and nothing else would -serve in these high places. In Tibet they have been known -to climb to the height of 20,000 feet.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Sometimes the snow was rotten, and we sank in; sometimes -it was firm, and then we slipped along; sometimes riding -was impossible, and then we picked our way with alpenstocks. -But everywhere in the Pass summer had its brief -victory, and the rivers were set free to feed the sultry Indian -plains.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At last we won through to another high marg, a pocket of -grass and blossom in the crags; and there, at Panjitarni, we -camped. Of course, we had long been above all trees, but -nothing seemed to daunt the flowers. This marg lay basking -in the sun, without one fragment of shade except when -the sun fell behind the peaks in the evening. But the flowers -quivered, glowed, expanded. My feet were set on edelweiss, -and the buttercups were pure gold. The stream ran -before me pure as at the day-dawn of the world, and from all -this innocent beauty I looked up to the untrodden snow, so -near, yet where only the eagle’s wings could take her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Next day was an enforced rest, for everyone, man and -beast, was weary; so we basked in the sun, reading and -writing, and but for the July snow and the awful peaks, it -was hard to believe that one was in the upper chambers of -the King’s Palace. Yet the air was strange, the water was -strange, and it was like a wild fairy-tale to look down from -my camp-bed and see the grey edelweiss growing thick beside -it, and hear the shriek of the marmot.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Next day we should reach the Cave, and when it came the -morning looked down upon us sweet and still—a perfect -dawn.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>First we crossed the marg, shining with buttercups, and -climbed a little way up a hill under the snows, and then -dropped down to the river-bed under caves of snow for the -path above was blocked. It was strange to wade along -through the swift, icy waters, with the snow-caves arching -above us in the glowing sunlight. The light in these caves -is a wonderful lambent green, for the reflected water is -malachite green itself; but I was glad when the passage was -over, for it looked as if some impending mass must fall and -crush us.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We climbed painfully out of the water, and in front was -a track winding straight up the mountain. It was clear that -we could not ride up; but we could not delay, so we started -as steadily as the ponies. I hardly know how they did it—the -men dragged and encouraged them somehow. And still -less do I know how we did it. The strain was great. At -one point I felt as if my muscles would crack and my heart -burst. We did the worst in tiny stages, resting every few -minutes, and always before us was the sadhu winning steadily -up the height. It was a weary, long climb, new elevations -revealing themselves at every turn of the track. Finally, -I fell on the top and lay for a bit to get my wind, -speechless but triumphant.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We rode then along the face of the hill—an awful depth -below, and beside us flowers even exceeding those we had -seen. Purple asters, great pearl-white Christmas roses -weighting their stems, orange-red ranunculus. It was a -broken rainbow scattered on the grass. And above this -heaven of colour was the Amarnath mountain at last—the -goal.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Then came a descent when I hardly dared to look below -me. That too could not be ridden. In parts the track had -slipped away, and it was only about six inches wide. In others -we had to climb over the gaps where it had slipped. At -the foot we reached a mighty mountain ravine—a great cleft -hewn in the mountain, filled like a bowl to a fourth of its -huge depth with snow, and with streams and river rushing -beneath. We could hear them roaring hollowly, and see -them now and then in bare places. And at the end of the -ravine, perhaps two miles off, a great cliff blocked the way, -and in it was a black hole—and this was the Shrine.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The snow was so hard that we could ride much of the -way, but with infinite difficulty, climbing and slipping where -the water beneath had rotted the snow. In fact, this glen is -one vast snow-bridge, so undermined is it by torrents. The -narrowness of it and the towering mountains on each side -make it a tremendous approach to the Shrine.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A snow-bridge broke suddenly under my pony and I -thought I was gone; but a man caught me by the arm, and -the pony made a wild effort and struggled to the rocks. -And so we went on.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The Cave is high up the cliff, and I could see the sadhu’s -figure striding swiftly on as if nothing could hold him back.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We dismounted before the Cave, and began the last climb -to the mouth. I got there first, almost done, and lo! a -great arch like that of the choir of a cathedral; and inside, a -cave eaten by water into the rock, lighted by the vast arch, -and shallow in comparison with its height of 150 feet. At -the back, frozen springs issuing from the mountain. One -of the springs, the culminating point of adoration, is the -Lingam as it is seen in the temples of India—a very singular -natural frost sculpture. Degraded in the associations -of modern ignorance the mystic and educated behold in this -small phallic pillar of purest ice the symbol of the Pillar of -Cosmic Ascent, rooted in rapture of creation, rising to the -rapture of the Immeasurable. It represents That within the -circumference of which the universe swings to its eternal -rhythm—That which, in the words of Dante, moves the sun -and other stars. It is the stranger here because before it the -clear ice has frozen into a flat, shallow altar.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The sadhu knelt before it, tranced in prayer. He had -laid some flowers on the altar, and, head thrown back and -eyes closed, was far away—in what strange heaven, who -shall say? Unconscious of place or person, of himself, of -everything but the Deity, he knelt, the perfect symbol of -the perfect place. I could see his lips move— Was it the -song of Kabir to the Eternal Dancer?—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>He is pure and eternal,</p> -<p class='line0'>His form is infinite and fathomless.</p> -<p class='line0'>He dances in rapture and waves of form arise from his dance.</p> -<p class='line0'>The body and mind cannot contain themselves when touched by his divine joy.</p> -<p class='line0'>He holds all within his bliss.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>What better praise for such a worshipper before him in -whose ecstasy the worlds dance for delight—here where, in -the great silence, the Great God broods on things divine? -But I could not know——</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>I could not know, for chill and far</p> -<p class='line0'>His alien heaven closed him in.</p> -<p class='line0'>His peace shone distant as a star</p> -<p class='line0'>Remote in skies we cannot win.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>I laid my flowers on the altar of ice beside his. Who -could fail to be moved where such adoration is given after -such a pilgrimage? And if some call the Many-Named -“God,” and some “Siva,” what matter? To all it is the Immanent -God. And when I thought of the long winter and -the snow falling, falling, in the secret places of the mountains, -and shrouding this temple in white, the majesty of -the solitudes and of the Divine filled me with awe.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Outside the marmot’s cry was shrill,</p> -<p class='line0'>The mountain torrents plunged in smoke;</p> -<p class='line0'>Inside our hearts were breathless still</p> -<p class='line0'>To hear the secret word He spoke.</p> -<p class='line0'>We heard Him, but the eyelids close,</p> -<p class='line0'>The seal of silence dumbs the lips</p> -<p class='line0'>Of such as in the awful snows</p> -<p class='line0'>Receive the dread Apocalypse.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>Later we climbed down into the snowy glen beneath the -Cave, and ate our meal under a rock, with the marmots -shrilling about us, and I found at my feet—what? A tuft -of bright golden violets—all the delicate penciling in the -heart, but shining gold. I remembered Ulysses in the Garden -of Circe, where the <span class='it'>moly</span> is enshrined in the long thundering -roll of Homer’s verse:—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“For in another land it beareth a golden flower, but not in this.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>It is a shock of joy and surprise to find so lovely a marvel in -the awful heights.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We were too weary to talk. We watched the marmots, -red-brown like chestnuts, on the rocks outside their holes, -till everything became indistinct and we fell asleep from utter -fatigue.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The way back was as toilsome, only with ascents and -descents reversed; and so we returned to Panjitarni.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Next day we rested; for not only was it necessary from -fatigue, but some of our men were mountain-sick because of -the height. This most trying ailment affects sleep and appetite, -and makes the least exertion a painful effort. Some -felt it less, some more, and it was startling to see our strong -young men panting as their hearts laboured almost to bursting. -The native cure is to chew a clove of garlic; whether it -is a faith cure or no I cannot tell, but it succeeded. I myself -was never affected.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Of the journey down I will say little. Our sadhu journeyed -with us and was as kind and helpful on the way as -man could be. He stayed at our camp for two days when -we reached Pahlgam; for he was all but worn out, and we -begged him to rest. It touched me to see the weary body -and indomitable soul.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At last the time came for parting. He stood under a pine, -with his small bundle under his arm, his stick in his hand, -and his thin feet shod for the road in grass sandals. His -face was serenely calm and beautiful. I said I hoped God -would be good to him in all his wanderings; and he replied -that he hoped this too, and he would never forget to speak -to Him of us and to ask that we might find the Straight -Way home. For himself, he would wander until he died—probably -in some village where his name would be unknown -but where they would be good to him for the sake of the -God.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>So he salaamed and went, and we saw him no more. Was -it not the mighty Akbar who said, “I never saw any man lost -in a straight road”?</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>He came with us; we journeyed down</p> -<p class='line0'>To lowlier levels where the fields</p> -<p class='line0'>Are golden with the wheat new-mown,</p> -<p class='line0'>And all the earth her increase yields.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>He told us that his way lay on.</p> -<p class='line0'>He might not rest; the High God’s cry</p> -<p class='line0'>Rang “Onward!” and the beacon shone,</p> -<p class='line0'>“And I must wander till I die.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“But when I speak unto my God</p> -<p class='line0'>I still will tell him you were kind,</p> -<p class='line0'>That you may tread where He has trod</p> -<p class='line0'>Until the Straight Way home you find.”</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>He joined his hands in deep salute,</p> -<p class='line0'>And, smiling, went his lonely way,</p> -<p class='line0'>Sole, yet companioned, glad, yet mute,</p> -<p class='line0'>And steadfast toward the perfect day.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>And still I see him lessening</p> -<p class='line0'>Adown the endless Indian plain.</p> -<p class='line0'>Yet certain am I of this thing—</p> -<p class='line0'>Our souls have met—shall meet again.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>Thus I have tried to give some dim picture of the wonders -of that wonderful pilgrimage. But who can express the -faith, the devotion that send the poorer pilgrims to those -heights? They do it as the sadhu did it. Silence and deep -thought are surely the only fitting comments on such a sight.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:1.2em;'>THE MAN WITHOUT A SWORD</p> - -<div><h1 id='ch11'>THE MAN WITHOUT A SWORD</h1></div> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>(What is told in this story of jujutsu or judo, the Japanese national -science of self-defence and attack, is from the point of view of an -expert, strange as it may appear.)</span></p> - -<p class='pindent'>This is the true story of an experience which befell me -in Japan. For six years I have kept silence and I tell it -now only because my own knowledge assures me of the -growing interest in matters relating to what Oriental scholars -call “the formless world”—that is to say the sphere surrounding -us which we now know to be independent of solidity -and time as we conceive them, a world not to be grasped -by our fallible senses yet apprehended by some of us in certain -conditions not tracked and charted definitely. Modern -science, feeling after the mysterious, has named this world -which permeates ours and yet is invisible, the Fourth Dimension -because it is not subject to the three illusions of -length, breadth and height which imprison most of us from -the cradle to the grave. But why philosophize? Let me -tell my story.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>My name is Hay, and I am a middle-class Scotchman, a -public school and University man who, like others, took -part in the War. I came through whole and sound but it -left its mark. For one thing, it knocked to smithereens the -average ideals of success and attainment, which, again like -others, had shaped my life, and from being a strictly average -man in that I followed the herd in all its decencies of convention -the war left me naked and unsheltered in the open -without a rag of conviction to hide me from the truth if it -should happen to pass my way. But I had ceased to believe -in its existence outside the things we use in daily intercourse.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Another effect also. My war experience was naval and -chiefly in the Mediterranean where men of all nationalities -were coming and going, and that constant contact wore thin -the shell an Englishman inhabits—such crustaceans as we -are!—until I began to see in what different terms the universe -may be stated from the differing angles of race and -nationality. What helped me to this understanding was a -friendship I struck up with a Japanese naval officer—a remarkable -fellow as I thought then and know now. He -spoke English perfectly and had not only read but inwardly -digested what he read, which is more than can be said for -most of us. I owed him two services besides. He taught -me to speak Japanese—I am quick at languages,—and being -a great expert in the national art of defence and attack -which is known as jujutsu, he began to give me lessons which -were the beginning of much. His name was Arima, his -age the same as mine—thirty-four,—and for very different -reasons we both left our services when the war shut down.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yet I knew our friendship would not end there, nor did -it. One day while I was dining alone in my club in London, -wondering whether I should ever again find anything which -I honestly felt worth doing, a letter reached me. I knew -the almost mercantile precision of the hand before I opened -it and it sent a pleasurable thrill through nerves which had -been stagnant with exhaustion since I had been ashore.</p> - -<div class='blockquoter9'> - -<p class='noindent'>“Hay sama,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I think much of you and wonder if you ever free a thought -to cross the sea to my little house in Kyushu. That is our southern -island and since illness drove me from our navy I live there. I -need the sunshine of a friend’s company and if you feel the same -need come, I beg you, and make me a long visit. I live in a -beautiful valley run through by a river which will please you. It -flows by rocks and mountains, pine woods and prosperous villages; -a happy land. Not far from my house is a temple to -Hachiman, God of War. I do not pay my devotions there for -reasons which you will understand. But come, my friend. I -have learned many things since we met and no doubt it is the same -with you.”</p> - -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>That letter flung up a window in a stifling room. It -meant escape from the dull indifference besetting me and -contact with those people who of all in the world preserve -the Stoic virtues which seemed to be the only ones likely -to extricate me from my Slough of Despond. I wrote my -answer within ten minutes and in two months I was in -Japan.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I did not go at once to Arima, nor will I tell my first adventures -on landing and making myself at home in Tokyo. -They are neither good reading nor thinking. I had more -than one reason to regret that Arima had made me free of -the country by giving me its tongue. Pretty well worn out, -with a stale taste of sour regrets in my mouth, I went down -at last to Kyushu, and in the garden of Arima’s delightful -little house I take up the story.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was a true Japanese garden, a wide landscape seen -through the diminishing end of a telescope. There was a -forest, a mountain which had spilt its mighty boulders by -the side of a running river with a Chinese bridge thrown -over it. True, one could have bestridden the mountain and -hopped the river, but what did that matter? The real river, -the Kogagawa, rippled beside the grass which ran down to -where a great willow dipped cool fingers in liquid crystal -from the mountain heights, and under that green veil of -drooping boughs with eyes half closed it was possible to -dream that the little garden passed into the idea which had -filled its maker’s mind, and became grand and terrible, a -place of wild beauty and awe.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It must be so,” said Arima smiling, “because he saw it -so, and what a man has once clearly seen is registered immortal -and can be seen by others when necessary.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He sat under the willow, his fine bronzed face and throat -bare to the flitting shadows of trembling leaves.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Who made it?” I asked. “He cannot have been a common -man.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He was my great-great-grandfather and very far from -a common man. I have a paper in his own hand which tells -why and how he made it and it is a very strange story.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He threw away his cigarette and sat looking at the wandering -paths paved with flat stones here and there, the little -flowering herbs springing in the crevices; at the mountain -where, altering the scale, you might wander and be lost for -dreadful days in mighty gorges and ravines. The river -swept round it in a rapid current possibly two feet wide and -joined the Kogagawa in a lovely bay quite four feet across -where a fairy fleet might have anchored after a prosperous -voyage from Stratford on Avon in the dream of a midsummer -night.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Some day I will read you his paper, but not yet. I have -reasons for delay. The spirit of our country is hovering -over you but has not yet entered in and possessed you. -People come to Japan in ship-loads and see the surface -bright with colour and gaiety which we spread out before -them. But they do not know. We do not mean they -should. To be truthful—I do not think any foreigner can -understand Japan unless he is a Buddhist at heart— As -you are.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I?” I echoed in uttermost astonishment. “My good -fellow, I am nothing. I haven’t the devil of a ghost of a -notion what it all means.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He looked at me with a quaint smile hiding in the deeps -of his narrow eyes. It peered out like a wise gnome, as old -as the hills and older.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Your downstairs self knows very well. It has not passed -it on yet to your honourable upstairs self. But the wireless -begins to talk and the air is full of voices beating at -your ears. What stories they will tell you! I should like -to hear them.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For the moment I could not be sure that he was in earnest. -But I could ask, for it was an intimate hour.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The full moon was rounding up from behind the mountain -of Naniwa where the monastery of the Thousand-Armed -Kwannon, Spirit of Pity, looks out over a wide and -wonderful landscape of woods and valleys. That day we -had visited the house of the Abbot,—The House Built upon -Clouds, they call it, and there, for a moment I had had an -experience new and very difficult to describe.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yet I must try. It began with a physical sensation like -a strange intake of breath which I could not expel, and made -my heart beat violently. That passed, but I thought it had -affected my head for it seemed that my memory was disturbed. -I could not remember my name, and my past life, -as I recalled it from childhood, was gone, shrunk to an -invisible point so small that I could look over it to something -beyond. That something moved in cloudy shapes impossible -to focus into clear vision. I saw as one sees when a -telescope needs adjusting and another turn will clear all -into intelligibility. But for a moment I had dropped my -historic, racial sense like a garment, and the monk with his -calm face like lined and weathered ivory seemed nearer to -me than anyone I had ever known though it was not half an -hour since we had met. I could remember his sonorous -Japanese name. My own was gone. I must place the scene -clearly. Arima was examining some ancient vessels of fine -three-metal work from Tibet, and the Abbot and I stood by -the window looking out over the vast drop of the valley -from such a height that it was like a swallow’s nest in the -eaves of the spiritual city. Suddenly I was aware that our -eyes were fixed on each other, on my side with passionate, -on his with searching intensity.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Again, what shall I say? I was conscious that something -arresting had happened and could not tell myself what it -was. But it was his eyes through which I looked, as through -a window, with an overwhelming question.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Also, he was speaking in a clear low monotone like running -water. It was as though he continued a conversation -of which I had lost the beginning.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But how can you expect to see without concord of mind? -Yours is in the confusion of a tossing sea. It has no direction. -The way you must follow is to repeat these words -until you understand them perfectly.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He paused and enunciated these strange words clearly:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I have no parents. I make the heavens and the earth -my parents. I have no magic. I make personality my -magic. I have no strength. I make submission my -strength. I have neither life nor death. I make the Self-Existent -my life and death. I have no friends. I make my -mind my friend. I have no armour. I make right-thinking -and right-doing my armour. Can you remember this? It -is the beginning.” Looking in his eyes I remembered and -repeated it perfectly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Good!” he said with calm approval.—“And there is -one clause more. An important one. ‘I have no sword. -I make the sleep of the mind my sword.’ That signifies -that the outer reasoning self, which is really nothing, must -be lulled asleep and put off its guard before the inner self, -which is All, can function.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Suddenly as it had come the experience ended. I was -released. I stood in the window, watching the softly floating -clouds, the waving woods far, far beneath, the wheeling -of a drove of swallows in blue air. The Abbot was speaking -with Arima; they were handling the vessels, barbarically -rich, and discussing them with interest. Had my experience -been some wild momentary distortion of the brain? I -shuddered as if with cold. My hands were shaking. Then -all was normal.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But, clambering down the hundreds of beautiful broken -steps overgrown with flowers and moss where so many generations -have come and gone in pilgrimage, I said nothing -to Arima. It had become impossible. Something called -the war to my mind and I said something careless, but he -waved that aside.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“We must speak of it no more. Why steep one’s soul in -illusion? Much that we thought real and allowed to affect -us was nothing, and the emotions it caused less than nothing. -I have awaked. You are near the dawn.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I thought this remark cruel, and said something heated -about the dead who had paid with their lives for the illusion—the -ignorant things one does say! He received it with -his invulnerable Japanese courtesy.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I went too fast. Pardon me. The Buddha alone can -impart knowledge to the Buddha, and who am I that I should -speak? The time and the master come together. Here, -my friend,—you should drink of this running water. It -comes from a beautiful spring in the mountain above. They -call it ‘Light Eternal’ and say that to taste of it is to drink -perfect health. If only it were as easy as that!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>By the mossy rock lay two little dippers of pure white -wood. I was extremely English at that instant and nothing -would have induced me to soil my lips with a cup used by -strangers. I hooped my hands and drank,—he, from the -dipper.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You miss the sacrament,” he said, “but the water in any -case is good.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And so we went home, talking of the treasures of the -monastery, wonders of art, famous throughout Japan.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But now, in the gathering night concentrating its radiance -in a moon so glorious as to obscure the nearer stars, in the -breathless silence made vocal by the ripple of the river on -its eternal way, beneath the dropped veil of the willow influences -were loosed which opened my heart, and I told -Arima my experience of the afternoon. I asked whether -he had been conscious of what had passed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>His face was a shadow beneath the boughs. I saw only -the moonlight in his eyes as he replied.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No. I knew nothing. The Abbot Gyōsen was speaking -with me all the time. I thought you were absorbed in -the view. It is most wonderful.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That could not satisfy me.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Impossible,” I said. “For how could that strange formula -come into my mind? I never heard it before. I -have not the faintest notion what it means.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There was a brief silence, then he answered slowly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I scarcely think it my part to clear up the matter. Will -you not ask the Abbot himself? Yet there are one or two -things I could say if you wish.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Seeing I was in earnest he continued.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The Abbot Gyōsen is a remarkable man. In the first -place seclusion in a mountain temple in devout contemplation -purifies the heart, and then he is a deep student of Zen. -Zen is the science of mental or spiritual concentration. In -India they call it Yoga. A man who possesses this knowledge -can do things which to the ignorant of its powers appear -miracles. They are perfectly natural however. In -his youth he had magnificent skill in jujutsu. No man could -stand up against him. There was a reason for that.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He was silent for a moment, and then added:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“His influence is enormous. You would scarcely credit -the true stories I could tell of him.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I listened in deep reflection, staring at the broken ripples -of moonlight in the river. Again the weird intake of breath -seized me, my heart beat rapidly with the consciousness that -I was face to face with the Unknown; that it had eyes but -I was blind, groping in the dark. Light, light: That was -the cry within me.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The formula?” I asked, when my breath steadied again.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I could not see even his eyes now. Arima was an invisible -presence.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In Japan,” he said, “in connection with jujutsu and otherwise -we recognize a strange force which we call <span class='it'>kiai</span>, a very -powerful dynamic. We consider it a manifestation of the -primal energy. It lies all round us for the taking by anyone -who will use the necessary means and in itself is neither -good nor evil. The result depends on the person who uses -it. What the Abbot Gyōsen passed into your mind was -certain of the first rules of this knowledge. We call them -the Rules of Detachment. He must have been conscious -that you have reached the fit stage for instruction.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then all I can say is that he was entirely mistaken. He -could hardly choose a worse subject for any spiritual experiments -than myself.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Arima laughed slightly but kindly as one laughs at a -child’s ignorant certitude.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“That is not possible. Men of his sort are not mistaken. -But <span class='it'>you</span> mistake. Certainly this force may be employed -for a very high kind of spiritual adventure, but in itself it is -neutral. It is only a force, and what he foresees for you I -cannot tell. It is a sword. Now a sword may be employed -by a god or a devil or any of the grades between.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>This idea was so new to me that I said nothing for a moment, -revolving the thing inwardly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Can you mean that a force of tremendous possibility -lies about us for anyone to use who will? That a man can -handle the powers of miracle——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He shook his head:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There is no miracle. There is only Law and some of us -understand it better than others. Knowledge is always -power and the unscrupulous may know as well as the saints. -But they will know from a different and disastrous angle. -Does one always see power in worthy hands? You and I -who have lived through the war know better than that. -No, this force is applicable to small things as to great. It -can mean success in money-grubbing or the open door to -an apostleship. As I said—it is a sword. But it cannot be -trifled with. It carries you to a stage where you perceive -the danger too late and are seized with an indescribable -horror. The wings melt in the sun’s flame, and then——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He made an eloquent gesture with his hand which suggested -a fall from some unimagined height.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I won’t believe it,” I said resolutely. “That whatever -rules the universe should trust it anywhere to clumsy or -wicked interference— No, impossible!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yet we see it daily,” Arima replied calmly. “But -things always come right in the long run. This power of -which I speak is only one gesture of the Supreme and there -is much behind it. Illusions pass like clouds but the sun -remains.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But—but,” I hesitated.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is this which explains the mystery of good and evil, -as we call them. Think it out and you will see. Shall -we go in now? I have a fancy that the processes of the -night—even the river—like to be free of us intruders. -If we are not in harmony with them——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Arima!” I said on an impulse, “have you this secret? -I think—I know that in your hands it would be safe. What -you have said makes me long for more. If the Abbot -judged me fit for so much—and you say he must have -known——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He stretched his hand in the moonlight and grasped mine -in a strong clasp. I had a sensation of something throbbing -and beating from his wrist to mine. It flowed tingling -along my veins until it was warm about my heart.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is day!” he said.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I heard no more. It was day. A fierce sun blazed upon -me and I was alone in an unknown country. A mountain, -in contour like the famous Fuji, loomed up majestic, snow -spilt down its sides like the sticks of a half opened fan. -I stood in a mighty gorge beside a fiercely running mountain -river, the swift torrent forced back by its own speed among -the rocks in curling white waves. Where two rocks craned -forward to each other from opposing shores a noble Chinese -bridge, huge stones gigantically moulded almost to a semi-circular -spring, spanned and bridled the wild creature beneath, -and on either shore was a willow tree.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Why was it familiar though so strange? But I stood -bewildered. A moment ago I had been beside my friend -in moonlight and quiet, now a great sun beat on tossing -mountains and river, and I was alone.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Terribly alone. I stood ignorant which way to turn, -helpless, baffled, in a place which might have been empty -from the world’s beginning, but for the bridge. Would -anyone ever come? Should I roam there imprisoned in -vastness until I died? It was a nightmare of terror. I -ran to the great willow as if for refuge in its tent of delicate -shifting shade, and pushing aside the boughs I entered and -sat down throwing my arm about the trunk, smooth, warm, -as the flesh of a woman, that I might steady myself against -something living and tangible.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There are Dryads in Japan, tree spirits, and especially -do they haunt the willow. Beautiful, alarming, some of the -stories, but always instinct with the life which lies just -below our horizon. Now I was conscious of some presence -beside me, not to be accosted until its own moment of -choice. I put out my hand instinctively; it met nothing. -I said a word aloud. No answer. And again most disabling -fear submerged me. Then, clear and small, as if written, the -Rules of Detachment rose in my mind, and hurrying, I repeated -them under my breath, not knowing how they could -help, but catching at anything.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I have no parents. I make the heavens and the earth -my parents. I have no strength. I make submission my -strength.” And so to the end.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I have no sword. I make the sleep of the mind my -sword.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Now, as I said these words the meaning flashed upon me -in light. Here was I—alone in a frightful solitude—so -desolate that it might have been the Mountains of the -Moon. What means of escape could I make for myself? -What friends had I—what sword? The Rules assured me. -The enemies—the mountains, the wild ways, were my slaves -if I could believe it. In submission strength awaited me. -In the surrender of the plotting reason, which can only -break tangible material obstacles, my latent powers would -function. And what were they?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Once more and confidently I repeated the words, knowing -that they unloosed some hard-bound knot in my being. I -willed to be in the garden of Arima. My one instinct was -flight.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I was sitting beneath the willow tree— Yes, but in -Arima’s garden, and he was beside me looking steadfastly at -the river where moonlight flowed away with it to the ocean.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Impossible to describe the shock of relief. It never -occurred to me to ask if I had been asleep—to think I had -been hypnotized or anything of the kind. I knew the experience -was real.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Where have I been?” That was the only possible question. -He replied:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In the garden. Did you not recognize it? See—the -mountain, the tumbled rocks, the river and bridge. <span class='it'>But</span> -in the garden as my ancestor first saw it. Some day you -shall hear why.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But first—first— Was I long there? Time—I forgot -time.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You are there now, only the blinkers are over your -eyes again. And as to time—there is no such thing as -time. There is only eternity. If I count in the way we -measure when we wear our blinkers you had the sight for -twenty-four hours. It was last night when it began. Now -it is to-night. I have slept, have eaten, have walked to the -village and written many letters and all the time you sat -here. Time is really nothing but a dream—a necessity -in the world of the Three Dimensions. As soon as you -break the shell—it is nothing.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Again I cannot describe the tumult of feeling in me, -mingled with a passionate longing for something of my own -lost and ravished from me. I had a sense of unutterable -weakness and shame. He read my thought like speech and -answered:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But you threw it from yourself. You were frightened, -forlorn, and you caught at the Rules and concentrated, and -being power they acted as you wished, and transported -you back into the blindness of the daily life that walls us -in from the Lovely, the Utterly Desirable.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You mean,” I said slowly, “that one can ruin oneself -as easily as save. And that I should not have come back at -my own will?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Exactly. One must always go on. To come back is -highly dangerous. If you had had patience and had concentrated -upon what is called ‘extension’ you would have -climbed the mountain and on the other side——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What? What?” I cried, for he paused.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“We call it the Shining Country. You would have—liked -it! Also you would have met the One who Waits.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I repeated in bewilderment;</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The One who Waits? But who?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I cannot tell. Different people probably for everyone. -It might have been my great-great-grandfather for all I -know. He is often in his garden. But it is the right -one always. Don’t think I blame you though for using -your scrap of power in a fright. That often happens at -first. What man has mastered jujutsu at the first throw? -Still, he may be badly hurt, and you are hurt and will pay -for it. Later on, beware that you never use power to bring -you back to the place you have left it. A man pays for that -to the last farthing.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You mean—snatching at the wrong things?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes, in a way. The wrong things for you. There is -no fixed way or rigid moral standard. There cannot be. -All depends upon the man himself and the occasion, and—many -a man has been saved by his sins. One learns the -rules as one goes. Of course the rudiments of them govern -every sort of society of men civilized or uncivilized. But -you must be hungry. Come in.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I shall never forget that meal. Nothing could be simpler. -There were rice cakes, honey, eggs, and pale fragrant tea. -But—I despair of words—the food had new meanings. I -could feel the good of it, the life of nature, of living things, -passing into my blood, so restorative that when it was eaten -I felt like a tuned violin on the shoulder of a mighty master; -not a sound or sight but drew harmonious answer from -my spirit. The river flowed from the footstool of the -Eternal. Each flower shouted its evangel and their chorus -was that of the morning stars singing together. The dart -of the swallows was the flight of arrows from the bow of -Love. They dazzled in blue air. I daresay no more.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Arima came out in his cotton kimono and bare head. -I saw new meanings in his face each moment, and the -bronzed beauty of the man struck on a naked nerve, as -though each sight of beauty awakened a longing for the -next step beyond. He read my thought, and pausing in -his work of training a fruit bough answered meditatively;</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes, even the first breath of air in that country is inspiration. -It is full of dangers—a fighting country, sometimes -a No Man’s Land. Some of its ways seem to lead -horribly downward. And there is always hell.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Hell? A state of mind?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes, and of body too—they sometimes involve each -other. But it braces one. There is much more to it than -you can know yet. Only remember—one has got to break -into that country somehow unless one is content to be the -prisoner of the senses for a whole wasted lifetime.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I shuddered slightly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“At the present moment I don’t feel that I ever want -to see it again.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Natural enough. Let us have a bout of jujutsu now.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We stripped, and he threw me as he always did, but all -the same I was learning. I got a new lock that day and, -more important, made an advance in pliability. I stooped -and yielded and released myself when I thought he had got -me for good. He shouted with pleasure.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Right! You will be a shodan one day. That is our -lowest teaching grade. Now rest.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He came up to me an hour later:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You are wishing to go to the Kwannon monastery to see -the Abbot. He will receive you. Before you start would -you like to hear the story of my ancestor and the garden? -It is very short.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Strange. I had not thought of the Abbot, but I knew now -that to see him was my inmost wish. That had been the -meaning of my joy. I nodded, and Arima led the way to -the willow. I did not then know why but the magic of -the garden centred in that willow, thrilled in every leaf of -it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We sat down in its shade; I, on the grass with my arms -clasped about my knees.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My ancestor was a handsome young man, and the only -son of a rich and noble family who owned much land about -here. Nearly all ran through his fingers in his extravagance -and flowed away from the family like river-water, until -only a few acres just here were left. I need not tell you -all his life—you can imagine the story of a rich, reckless, -sensuous fellow without bit or bridle. But he was a fine -soldier, a fine poet—we think much of that in Japan—and -he wrote the story of his life later with such fire and drama -and such strange hidden things, that if it could be printed—but -it never could. People would not believe it. Some -day you shall read.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A strange change came over the garden while he spoke. -It extended itself before my eyes—flowing outward softly. -The flowering bushes which had been within a few feet were -now vague in the distance. The mountain flung a cone -of shadow over leagues. Even as I saw this, we were in -the land of True Sight—yes, that was its name—and -Arima was telling his story under the willow of my terror.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He had broken his own wife’s heart. He coveted the -love of the wife of a man of good birth—a samurai named -Satoro, and taking her by force made her his own. The -husband, unarmed, met him here in what is now this garden, -and when he drew his sword to attack him, by the power -of the most skilful jujutsu dashed the sword from his hand -and himself to the ground, breaking his jaw and blinding -him with blood. He had to endure the disgrace. Terrible -humiliation for a nobleman! No help— Look about you -and see how lonely!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Awful and vast the mountains stretched away into snowy -silences with the muted roar of a distant avalanche. Cold, -shudderingly cold the river, frozen in the pools with a bitter -glaze of ice. No life, no death, but arrested petrifaction, -with the moon stranded on a peak in a dead world.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And the sword! A sword worn by his ancestors in -knightly fashion, pure steel and gold—the very spirit of -the house. Satoro picked it up and stood leaning on it -over the prostrate man as he lay on the rocks writhing like -a crushed snake to hide his ruined face.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘This place is your own heart,’ he said; ‘cold, empty -and dead. You will come back to it times out of mind. -Kimi san, my wife, is on the other side of the mountain. -You never possessed her; she is mine. But what I have -to say is this. Your sword also is mine. I have a lien on -you. You are my slave. I tell you now to begin at the -beginning. You shall learn jujutsu. What it will teach you -is to defend yourself from yourself. And when you have -learnt that— Then I shall give you fresh orders.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The man raved and swore and spat blood, all unintelligibly -as a beast. He was humiliated in all that a Japanese -noble most values, and his only thought at the moment -was revenge and suicide. The other stood, looking down -upon him with calm. ‘I will return the sword to my lord -when he knows its use. A good sword scorns an ignorant -wearer. Now I leave you, but we shall meet in this place.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He went off, walking lightly and strongly. The fallen -man dragged himself together. To lose his sword— Do -Westerners understand that bitterness? I cannot tell.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A retainer came by and finding him, summoned help. -When they got him to the house, they told him the woman -was dead. She had severed an artery in her throat as a -Japanese lady must do in the face of dishonour. Blind -with rage he sent to the house of her husband to slaughter -him. He had disappeared.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Henceforth my ancestor was known as The Man without -a Sword—a terrible name. He could not appear among -the nobles. His life was a ruined thing.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Arima paused again and then added:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It would be better that the Abbot should tell you -the rest. You will think it remarkable.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I stood up, so possessed with the story, for he had told -it like one inspired, that it was only as I moved that my -position flashed on me.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“How can I go? I am lost in the mountains. Come -with me!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He stood beside me, looking onward:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“That is impossible. There are never any guides. -There is only power. Besides, there are different ways for -different people and I know nothing of yours.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I looked about me, considering. The bridge was the -obvious way and certainly the easiest. I did not know -the hour, and there was a hint of dusk in the air, but I -had already learnt that in this strange land time and its -phenomena have quite other meanings than with us. Night -might break on me in a wave of sunlight or dawn open -its rose in the heart of midnight. Who could tell? But -the bridge way would be safer.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I turned to say a last word to Arima. There was no -human being in sight; it was a vast solitude dominated by -the black cone of the mountain’s shadow.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I made for the bridge walking as quickly as the rough -stones allowed, and climbing its semi-circular hump I looked -before me and rejoiced to see the track much clearer than -it had seemed from the other side. Evidently a well-used -way, and this encouraged me in my hope of meeting someone -who could direct me to the monastery of Naniwa. -Therefore I went with more confidence, relieved from the -crawling fear of the supernatural which the other side of -the bridge inspired.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The track took me up a slight rise and round a jutting -rock which obscured the river, and having done about two -miles of quick walking I heard steps coming round a bend -of the trail and rejoiced to think I could ascertain the -way.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Nearer they came and disclosed a Japanese, his kimono -pulled up through the obi for the ease of walking. He -made the usual polite bow and would have passed but for -my raised hand. I asked my way with the honorifics I -had learnt from Arima. He stopped at once and replied -with the utmost courtesy:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The monastery? Yes— You could go this way. One -reaches it by several. But it is not the right way. Far -from it.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then will you tell me how to go?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Sir, I cannot tell you. I wish I could. I really do not -know your way.” It was infuriating. I said scoffingly:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“If you know this is wrong surely you know which is -right?” He replied as if he were saying the most ordinary -thing in the world:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Sir, it is not so easy as you think. Places are states -of mind in this country, therefore you will honourably see -that no one can tell anyone else their way and how best to -get there.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Bowing, he made to pass me. It was then that -for the first time I noticed two things. One that his -hair was dressed in the old-fashioned queue headdress which -one sees in Japanese prints, shaved, but for a knot drawn -up on the head, the other that he had a most remarkable -face. The features were good, even excellent, and the dark -bright colouring fine. But the eyes were arresting under -the black level brows, and filled with tranquillity as a pool -with shadows. On the impulse they gave me I spoke.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I wish I could go with you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Sir, that could hardly be. I come from Yedo and I -go to my garden in the valley you have left.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yedo!—the ancient and long-disused name of Tokyo,—and -Tokyo on the central island and days’ journey away! -Train and boat might have brought him, and yet—shivering -doubt assailed me like the thin creeping of drops of water -through a dyke which presages the later roar of the flood. -The garden! I could not withhold myself nor hesitate.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“May I ask your name?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“If you want to know my name you must watch what -road I take and know to what I return. How can you -know? I did not even think you would have seen me. -Since it is so however, I will repeat that in this road you -will have great need of self-defence. Now I bid you goodbye -and wish you safely at Naniwa.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He was gone round the corner so quickly that I had a sensation -of vanishing. I ran after him and looked. Nothing. -So I took my way onward. He had told me nothing to -change it. A word really would have sent me backward -to try my luck in another direction but he had not spoken it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Soon after it was dark and raining, with a moon very -young and bewildered in drifting clouds. She gave a weary -light scarcely enough to hint the track and indicate a group -of trees, the first I had seen, on the right. Coming up, -among them was a small flickering light, and the barking -of a dog sounded homely and even inviting, for by this -time I was dragging tired feet. If I could sleep there how -welcome the rest and shelter!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The place looked poor and dilapidated enough to be open -to any offer of payment though in any case I might have -trusted to the hospitality of the country Japanese.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I knocked at the rough door wondering that anyone could -exist in such a tumble-down place and a young girl came to -the door, faintly seen in dim lamplight. She stared at -me in astonishment and bowing low, called softly:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Madam, mistress,—what shall I do? A gentleman.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A young voice answered:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Tell him to come in if he will do us such an honour,” -and a graceful little figure appeared in the opening of a -lattice door, her face unseen because the light fell behind -her. I obeyed. Poor as the house was that room was -enchanting. Very simple, but the draperies were good, the -cushions beautiful in colour, the <span class='it'>hibachi</span> was full of charcoal -and above and round all bathing it in charm was the -delicate perfume of a woman’s presence. She rose from her -profound Japanese salutation and looked me in the face.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Hay sama!” she faltered, paling to the lips. And I -knew—I knew!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Six months before in the crowded city of Tokyo I had -gone to a dinner at a restaurant near Shimbashi. I remembered -the garden outside with clumps of gorgeous chrysanthemums, -lamps of splendid colour before the dusk drowned -them and the moon washed them with silver. Geisha -attended us, girls with every nerve braced and strung for -their profession of charming the wary and unwary alike. -And I was charmed by the sad mirth that looked out from -one pair of dark and lovely eyes. I drew her aside before the -evening ended and asked her to follow me to the <span class='it'>machiai</span>—a -house of meeting, and escaping from the noisy party -I waited in the cold handsomely furnished room that never -spoke of love, until she came.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That meeting led to many things—some merry, some -sad, but when I left Tokyo to see her no more I knew that -the part I had played was to set my heel on her little head -and drive her deeper into the mire. Still, it was ended -and need trouble me no more. One could forget.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And now I sat by her side in this land of bitter memories.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She drew a cushion beside mine and leaning her little -black head against my shoulder looked up in my face, -welcoming me with the sweet courtesy mingled with fear -that I remembered so well.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And why are you here in this wild place, Hana san? -Have you given up your work?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Her bewildered look! I can see it now.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“How can I tell? I—I came. I was told it must be.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You are resting here? You go back?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Let us talk of other things, Hay sama. How I am -glad to see you!” I could get nothing more from her than -that.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Silence and the little noises of dropping charcoal, and -the softness of her in my arms. It was a renewal of that -passionate intimacy which had left a wound in the very -heart of my soul.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We talked into the small hours,—so much to say, so much -to hear, and time passed—hours, days— How could I tell? -And then as fatigue and quiet and warmth overpowered -all my resolution she put her arms about me and gathered -me to her bosom and the night melted into passion and -passion into dream and the dark stole past us on noiseless -feet.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I waked in a chill dawn alone, disillusioned and abashed, -dragged back violently to a thing I had forgotten and -abhorred. The room was empty, a cold wind blowing -through the tattered paper of the window, and when I called, -no answer. The two women had gone with the night. No -food, no fire, dead ash in the <span class='it'>hibachi</span>, emptiness and the -squalid decay of a wooden house long forgotten. What had -a beauty of Tokyo been doing in such a place?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Fear of the loneliness seized me. I went out quickly -without looking after me, then at the twist of the path -turned and saw—desolation and waving weeds and a bough -of some bush thrust through the window that had taken -root within. I pushed on toward Naniwa, sick at heart.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was at that moment a thought shot through me and -chilled my blood. When Arima and I had visited Naniwa -it had taken us exactly two hours from his house to the -monastery hill. But yesterday I had walked for many -hours, and to-day seemed no nearer my goal. Grey interminable -moorland stretched before me with a mountain -blocking the way at a distance and other tossing peaks beyond. -Where was I? Where was Naniwa? Might I not -walk for ever and ever in widening circles to a lost goal? -The ground whispered with evil in every blade of grass. -It hissed in the rustle of dry squat bushes. And last night—last -night! There were reasons why that memory -brought horror and shame to be my companions on the -right and left. But I went on from sheer inability to consider -what else I must do.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The clump of bushes on the right parted and a tall strong -fellow burst out of them and planted himself across my -way. A Japanese, broad, brawny, violent-faced. As I -halted he sprang at my throat like a wolf.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And you tracked her here? You could not let her be? -Then take your payment from her husband Kondo!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>What happened next came in a blinding flash. He struck -at me with a loaded stick. It missed the first blow and I -had him by the throat with the new lock I had learnt from -Arima, shaking him violently to and fro, driving my fingers -deeper and deeper into his flesh in a frenzy of rage and -hate. I would have the innermost heart’s blood of the -brute.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I had it. He reeled in my grasp with horrible choking -noises, and suddenly I was shaking the life out of a dead -thing. As I thrust him from me with sickening triumph -he fell heavily as a full sack prone on the track before me.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It must have been long before the rage died in me and -I stood face to face with my position. I—a foreigner—had -killed a Japanese, and after an intrigue with his wife. -It felled me beside him—I crouched and hid my face and -tried to think.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Presently I rose and with the murderer’s instinct dragged -the corpse into the bushes to hide it. Thought was impossible. -I suffered as a dumb beast must suffer the extremity -of torture without the power to reason. Only I -must hide it and flee. The neighbourhood of the horrible -thing was hell.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I went on.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Later— “Is it just—is it just?” I said to myself, “that -one instant’s madness should doom a man for ever?”—forgetting -the long temptation I had played with, the slow -delicious yielding, the triumph and delight with which I had -slowly built up my torture chamber. Not only from the -time I landed in Japan, but before,—I had been busy at the -building all my life. How could I complain when the trap -snapped on me?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At last I broke from the numbness into memory. The -man who had passed me on his way to his garden. His -words returned like black birds flying heavily round my -head.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You are not in the right way. Places are states of -mind. In this way you will have much need of self-defence.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Arima’s words also. “There is no guide. There -is only power.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Power. That brought the Abbot to my mind—the Rules. -Could it be that they could rescue me from this horrible -country where evil hid like a snake behind every stone. O, -to be out of it—free—forgetting! I remember I fell on -my knees as if in prayer and with dreadful earnestness -began to repeat the Rules, passionately desiring the garden -of peace.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I have no parents. I make the heaven and the earth -my parents. I have no weapons—I make submission my -strength.” Light broke in my brain. Submission? Then -should I dictate—should I trust myself to my own choice -of where I would be? Arima had warned me against return.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“If you had used what we call ‘extension’ and had -gone on you would have been on the other side of the -mountain.” If there were to be refuge for such as I it -could only lie along the way of courage. I knew it—I -knew it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I changed my thought instantly. “Set me where -I should be if it is in the gateway of hell.” And again. -“Only free me of myself. Let me go forward. There is -no sin like cowardice. Better lust and murder and the -fight to the death with them than cowardice.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Then, with an intensity that shook me like a leaf in storm -I uttered the words of power, hiding my face in a very passion -of belief.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Quiet. I lifted my face and looked about me for the -terrible way I had accepted. I was lying on the broken -steps ascending to the monastery and the House Built upon -Clouds at Naniwa. And it was dawn.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The wonder of peace! The sun had not yet out-soared -the eastern trees and every bough dropped dew to the -glittering grass. A bird, its little clenching feet on a blossomed -twig beside me, sang like all the bliss of heaven. In -a pool at my feet the lotus, child of the clear cold stream, -raised rosy chalices to the sky and from it ran a stream -divinely clear and bright. The sun might have been the -first that ever shone upon a perfected world untroubled -by man, so clear and clean the water-gold of the morning.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I stood up and looked about me drawing deep breaths -of purity. Above me beneath a great tree, lost in contemplation, -sat the Abbot Gyōsen.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I stumbled towards him. I remember I said: “I have -come,” and that he motioned with his hand to a place beside -him. Together we watched the slow crescendo of the mighty -music of the dawn.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The sun was above the trees when he spoke, turning the -serenity of his face upon me.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You have learnt your lesson. Has it brought content?” -I summoned my thoughts to reply clearly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I have learnt much but the truth I do not know. Does -the corpse still lie on the moor and the woman weep in the -deserted house. Am I guilty?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In your soul, yes. Therefore in truth, yes. When you -yielded to lust in your heart and willed murder both were -accomplished. Your own Scriptures teach this and that -thought is the only true reality. This have all the Buddhas -known. In what men ignorantly call fact you are not -guilty. But, being guilty, learn this. Every instant terminates -a life and the next is a new birth. While each minute -exists the past is dead and the future unmade. I speak -here according to the knowledge of this world, but the -truth is that there is <span class='it'>no</span> time, and that you are now what -the Divine sees you—a ray of his splendour. This truth -being as yet too high for you to remember that even on this -world’s showing you are free to be what you will. The -choice lies before you. With a thought you may be in the -horror of the Desolate Country, with another in the Shining -Land. For every man makes his own universe until he can -see it as it is in the Thought of the Divine.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Blinded with truth I asked a question simply as a child.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then what must I do?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Resolve and go forward,—what else? knowing that in -yourself is all power.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But the training? Free me from myself! If we can -realize these powers the means of using so terrible a weapon -rightly should be open to all.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is open. But men will not believe. They will not -will. They do not think, and events take them like sea-weed -on a wave. You know your own weakness but it is strength -compared with that of the majority. You, at least, have -seen and heard. Study the teachings of the perfect One, -the Buddha, if you would be a man. Realize your union -with Power, knowing that it is a harp of many strings of -which you are one, and tune yourself in harmony with the -music of the spheres. At present you are a man without -a sword.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That phrase! It kindled a world of recollection. I -looked into his face with another entreaty.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Arima sama told me that I might hear the end of the -story of the Man without a Sword from your honourable -self. Tell it to me, I beseech you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He rose and invited me to follow him into the House -Built upon Clouds promising that he would rejoin me when -he had transacted some necessary business. I sat in the -window looking out and down into the glorious depth of -waving woods bathing in sunshine like water, experiencing -myself such tranquil joy as the trees themselves must know, -fulfilling their perfect Law in the smile of the Divine.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was long before the Abbot returned, but to me it seemed -a moment. We have no true means of measuring time for -the truth is that it has no existence, and when the soul is -liberated this truth is evident. At once he began the story -of the Man without a Sword.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In Japan very terrible was the position of the man who -had lost his sword. Better a thousand deaths of lingering -torture. There was no man so low as to give him companionship—and -he a noble! Therefore he changed his name -to that of Kazuma, and casting aside what money was left -he abandoned his wife who was dying of grief and shame, -and coming to Yedo took up the study of jujutsu hoping -some day to become a teacher of this in the great city. -More lonely a man could not be than Kazuma. His wife -died. His son was taken by his brother and he saw him no -more. His own name was blotted out and forgotten. His -brother believed and hoped him dead, and but for the command -of his foe he would have killed himself.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Jujutsu, my son, is, as you know from Arima sama, an -art that every noble person should learn. It is said to have -come from China, and it was taught that the very Gods -had used it in chastising the barbarians. The name roughly -signifies ‘the strength of weakness,’ and thus it arose. It -was noted that the boughs of a willow were not broken by a -heavy fall of snow when strong trees cracked beneath the -weight. And why? Being pliant they bowed their weakness -and the snow slipped off. My son, recall the Rule. -‘I have no strength. I make submission my strength.’ -As with the soul so it is with the body. How shall I sum -up this art of attack and self-defence? It is the perfect -control of the mind resisting defeat. It is to use weakness -in such a way that it masters brute strength. I have seen -a slight woman who possessed this knowledge fling a heavy -man over her shoulder and stun him. There are locks and -blows which may easily kill the opponent and for this -reason the higher secrets are withheld from all but those -who are fit for initiation. The pupils are trained to endure -heat and cold and all hardships. It is a high and noble -discipline, for no greatness can be attained without abstinence -from the three vices of lust, drink, and the love of -money with their attendant diseases of the spirit.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“This art Kazuma studied, and as he did so much became -clear to him and he approached the secret of life. And -when he had reached a certain skill his master taught him -that there is in jujutsu a higher branch of mysterious power. -And he, beginning dimly to apprehend the meaning of the -command laid on him by the husband of the woman he had -slain, for so indeed he had, desired with eagerness to advance.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Now, my son, at the gate of this higher initiation stands -a ceremony to be endured. The initiate must submit to -strangulation and to be revived by <span class='it'>kwappo</span>—the art which -recalls men to life. And should this fail, revival is made by -means of a power named <span class='it'>kiai</span>. To Kazuma, knowing nothing -of <span class='it'>kiai</span>, but very weary of life, this command came like -the friendly voice of death, and with joy he presented himself -to the master of the art who was chosen to be his executioner.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He lay down, offering his throat, and in a few seconds -was what is called dead.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Now, being thus enfranchised, instantly he found himself -in the place of his humiliation by the rushing river, with -cold desolation about him. And by the river knelt his -conqueror washing the blood from his hands as though -their fight was but just ended. He rose and faced Kazuma.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘You have obeyed my command.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I have obeyed.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘What have you learnt?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘That there is no death. It is more life, but life as we -have made it. As a man has sown he reaps in life after -life.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Until what time?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Until the time when he sows good grain.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Do you repent your past?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I do not look back. I go forward. It is forgotten. -The man who did the deed died with it. Now I would be -a teacher of jujutsu.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Well said! You have learnt to defend yourself from -yourself and you would teach others. I will give you fresh -orders.’ Kazuma stood like a soldier before his general.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Teach what you have learnt. Then come back, and in -this place of desolation where you fought and conquered -more than you knew make a garden and build a bridge. -Go now,—in power!’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He bowed low, Kazuma also. ‘My friend!’— As the -words met his ear they melted in a confused murmur -of human voices and he struggled back to consciousness -in the school of jujutsu in Yedo. Men knelt and -stooped about him fearful lest he had gone so far -on the way of death that even the powerful shout of -<span class='it'>kiai</span> could not reach him. But he rose and gravely thanking -his executioner went and stood before his master.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My son, Kazuma became the greatest teacher of jujutsu -in Japan. He could disarm and bring to his feet a two-sworded -man shrieking for mercy. With his shout he could -do to death any evil-doer within hearing and restore the -fool when he had mastered his lesson. Power was mighty -in his step, his gesture, his glance. What money he made, -and it was much, was for those who had need, he himself -living in an untouchable content.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Thus time went by.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“One day, having saved the life of the only son of a noble -house, the father coming to him said:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘My lord, what shall I give you? In mercy accept -a gift lest I and my house break under the weight of -gratitude. Have pity and take!’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So, after much musing, Kazuma replied.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘You have bought great lands by the river Koga. I -grow old. Give me, my lord, if you will, a corner by the -river, very small, where I may make a garden and build a -wooden bridge for those who must cross the rapids. Very -dangerous is the current.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So it was done and he made his garden and built with his -own hands a bridge of wood, and there was no day but the -people blessed his name and learnt from him that power lies -about them for the taking and that its best use at the present -time is to make gardens and be a builder of bridges. Other -uses later. My son, Kazuma still walks in his garden and -he sits beneath his willow and his sword hangs at his side. -The bridge leads where you know, for you have crossed it.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There was a moment’s silence and it spoke as never yet -words. He resumed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My son, make your own garden. And there is room -for many bridges.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>When my mind dwells on beauty the face of the Abbot -full of unworded meanings floats on clear air before me. It -ended and completed the story so that all he left unsaid was -written in fire between the spoken words. And I understood -and like himself cannot express more than the alphabet.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I returned from Naniwa by the hidden way. Flowers -blossomed along the moors. I never saw more lovely, and -where the corpse had lain children were dancing in a ring. -Where the broken house had crouched among trees, was -a shrine to the Thousand-Handed Spirit of Mercy beloved in -Japan. A child lay in her bosom and her hidden eyes were -bent upon it in a moonlight rapture. May I live in that -country for the eternities!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I crossed the bridge and walked beside the river to the -garden of Arima. He sat by the water plaiting a basket of -willow, and rose, bowing, to meet me.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I have come,” I said, “to learn jujutsu.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He smiled.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I have learnt it and with it the secret of power. I go in -and out of Kazuma’s garden. And beyond.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And the Abbot, who was once Kazuma, and will be more, -sits there, girded with his sword.</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:.8em;'>THE END</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:.5em;font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>TRANSCRIBER NOTES</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. -Where multiple spellings occur, majority use has been -employed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious -printer errors occur.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A cover was created for this eBook and is placed in the -public domain.</p> - -<p class='line'> </p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAMS AND DELIGHTS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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