the mahatma and the hare-第2章

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At　this　news　I　burst　out　laughing　and　the　laugh　did　me　good。

〃I　did　not　know　I　was　so　old；〃　I　said。

〃Do　you　call　that　old？〃　answered　Jorsen。　〃Why；　the　first　time　that　we
had　anything　to　do　with　each　other；　so　far　as　I　can　learn；　that　is；
was　over　eight　thousand　years　ago；　in　Egypt　before　the　beginning　of
recorded　history。〃

〃I　thought　that　I　was　mad；　but　you　are　madder；〃　I　said。

〃Doubtless。　Well；　I　am　so　mad　that　I　managed　to　be　here　in　time　to
save　you　from　suicide；　as　once　in　the　past　you　saved　me；　for　thus
things　come　round。　But　your　rooms　are　near；　are　they　not？　Let　us　go
there　and　talk。　This　place　is　cold　and　the　river　is　always　calling。〃

That　was　how　I　came　to　know　Jorsen；　whom　I　believe　to　be　one　of　the
greatest　men　alive。　On　this　particular　night　that　I　have　described　he
told　me　many　things；　and　since　then　he　has　taught　me　much；　me　and　a
few　others。　But　whether　he　is　what　is　called　a　Mahatma　I　am　sure　I　do
not　know。　He　has　never　claimed　such　a　rank　in　my　hearing；　or　indeed　to
be　anything　more　than　a　man　who　has　succeeded　in　winning　a　knowledge
of　his　own　powers　out　of　the　depths　of　the　dark　that　lies　behind　us。
Of　course　I　mean　out　of　his　past　in　other　incarnations　long　before　he
was　Jorsen。　Moreover；　by　degrees；　as　I　grew　fit　to　bear　the　light；　he
showed　me　something　of　my　own；　and　of　how　the　two　were　intertwined。

But　all　these　things　are　secrets　of　which　I　have　perhaps　no　right　to
speak　at　present。　It　is　enough　to　say　that　Jorsen　changed　the　current
of　my　life　on　that　night　when　he　saved　me　from　death。

For　instance；　from　that　day　onwards　to　the　present　time　I　have　never
touched　the　drink　which　so　nearly　ruined　me。　Also　the　darkness　has
rolled　away；　and　with　it　every　doubt　and　fear；　I　know　the　truth；　and
for　that　truth　I　live。　Considered　from　certain　aspects　such　knowledge；
I　admit；　is　not　altogether　desirable。　Thus　it　has　deprived　me　of　my
interest　in　earthly　things。　Ambition　has　left　me　altogether；　for　years
I　have　had　no　wish　to　succeed　in　the　profession　which　I　adopted　in　my
youth；　or　in　any　other。　Indeed　I　doubt　whether　the　elements　of　worldly
success　still　remain　in　me；　whether　they　are　not　entirely　burnt　away
by　that　fire　of　wisdom　in　which　I　have　bathed。　How　can　we　strive　to
win　a　crown　we　have　no　longer　any　desire　to　wear？　Now　I　desire　other
crowns　and　at　times　I　wear　them；　if　only　for　a　little　while。　My　spirit
grows　and　grows。　It　is　dragging　at　its　strings。

What　am　I　to　look　at？　A　small；　white…haired　man　with　a　thin　and　rather
plaintive　face　in　which　are　set　two　large；　dark　eyes　that　continually
seem　to　soften　and　develop。　That　is　my　picture。　And　what　am　I　in　the
world？　I　will　tell　you。　On　certain　days　of　the　week　I　employ　myself　in
editing　a　trade　journal　that　has　to　do　with　haberdashery。　On　another
day　I　act　as　auctioneer　to　a　firm　which　imports　and　sells　cheap
Italian　statuary；　modern；　very　modern　copies　of　the　antique；　florid
marble　vases；　and　so　forth。　Some　of　you　who　read　may　have　passed　such
marts　in　different　parts　of　the　city；　or　even　have　dropped　in　and
purchased　a　bust　or　a　tazza　for　a　surprisingly　small　sum。　Perhaps　I
knocked　it　down　to　you；　only　too　pleased　to　find　a　/bona　fide/　bidder
amongst　my　company。

As　for　the　rest　of　my　timewell；　I　employ　it　in　doing　what　good　I　can
among　the　poor　and　those　who　need　comfort　or　who　are　bereaved；
especially　among　those　who　are　bereaved；　for　to　such　I　am　sometimes
able　to　bring　the　breath　of　hope　that　blows　from　another　shore。

Occasionally　also　I　amuse　myself　in　my　own　fashion。　Thus　sure
knowledge　has　come　to　me　about　certain　epochs　in　the　past　in　which　I
lived　in　other　shapes；　and　I　study　those　epochs；　hoping　that　one　day　I
may　find　time　to　write　of　them　and　of　the　parts　I　played　in　them。　Some
of　these　parts　are　extremely　interesting；　especially　as　I　am　of　course
able　to　contrast　them　with　our　modern　modes　of　thought　and　action。

They　do　not　all　come　back　to　me　with　equal　clearness；　the　earlier
lives　being；　as　one　might　expect；　the　more　difficult　to　recover　and
the　comparatively　recent　ones　the　easiest。　Also　they　seem　to　range
over　a　vast　stretch　of　time；　back　indeed　to　the　days　of　primeval；
prehistoric　man。　In　short；　I　think　the　subconscious　in　some　ways
resembles　the　conscious　and　natural　memory；　that　which　is　very　far　off
to　it　grows　dim　and　blurred；　that　which　is　comparatively　close　remains
clear　and　sharp；　although　of　course　this　rule　is　not　invariable。
Moreover　there　is　foresight　as　well　as　memory。　At　least　from　time　to
time　I　seem　to　come　in　touch　with　future　events　and　states　of　society
in　which　I　shall　have　my　share。

I　believe　some　thinkers　hold　a　theory　that　such　conditions　as　those　of
past；　present；　and　future　do　not　in　fact　exist；　that　everything
already　is；　standing　like　a　completed　column　between　earth　and　heaven；
that　the　sum　is　added　up；　the　equation　worked　out。　At　times　I　am
tempted　to　believe　in　the　truth　of　this　proposition。　But　if　it　be
true；　of　course　it　remains　difficult　to　obtain　a　clear　view　of　other
parts　of　the　column　than　that　in　which　we　happen　to　find　ourselves
objectively　conscious　at　any　given　period；　and　needless　to　say
impossible　to　see　it　from　base　to　capital。

However　this　may　be；　no　individual　entity　pervades　all　the　column。
There　are　great　sections　of　it　with　which　that　entity　has　nothing　to
do；　although　it　always　seems　to　appear　again　above。　I　suppose　that
those　sections　which　are　empty　of　an　individual　and　his　atmosphere
represent　the　intervals　between　his　lives　which　he　spends　in　sleep；　or
in　states　of　existence　with　which　this　world　is　not　concerned；　but　of
such　gulfs　of　oblivion　and　states　of　being　I　know　nothing。

To　take　a　single　instance　of　what　I　do　know：　once　this　spirit　of　mine；
that　now　by　the　workings　of　destiny　for　a　little　while　occupies　the
body　of　a　fourth…rate　auctioneer；　and　of　the　editor　of　a　trade
journal；　dwelt　in　that　of　a　Pharaoh　of　Egyptnever　mind　which
Pharoah。　Yes；　although　you　may　laugh　and　think　me　mad　to　say　it；　for
me　the　legions　fought　and　thundered；　to　me　the　peoples　bowed　and　the
secret　sanctuaries　were　opened　that　I　and　I　alone　might　commune　with
the　gods；　I　who　in　the　flesh　and　after　it　myself　was　worshipped　as　a
god。

Well；　of　this　forgotten　Royalty　of　whom　little　is　known　save　what　a
few　inscriptions　have　to　tell；　there　remains　a　portrait　statue　in　the
British　Museum。　Sometimes　I　go　to　look　at　that　statue　and　try　to
recall　exactly　under　what　circumstances　I　caused　it　to　be　shaped；
puzzling　out　the　story　bit　by　bit。

Not　long　ago　I　stood　thus　absorbed　and　did　not　notice　that　the　hour　of
the　closing　of　the　great　gallery　had　come。　Still　I　stood　and　gazed　and
dreamt　till　the　policeman　on　duty；　seeing　and　suspecting　me；　came　up
and　roughly　ordered　me　to　begone。

The　man's　tone　angered　me。　I　laid　my　hand　on　the　foot　of　the　statue；
for　it　had　just　come　back　to　me　that　it　was　a　〃Ka〃　image；　a　sacred
thing；　any　Egyptologist　will　know　what　I　mean；　which　for　ages　had　sat
in　a　chamber　of　my　tomb。　Then　the　Ka　that　clings　to　it　eternally　awoke
at　my　touch　and　knew　me；　or　so　I　suppose。　At　least　I　felt　myself
change。　A　new　strength　came　into　me；　my　shape；　battered　in　this
world's　storms；　put　on　something　of　its　ancient　dignity；　my　eyes　grew
royal。　I　looked　at　that　man　as　Pharaoh　may　have　looked　at　one　who　had
done　him　insult。　He　saw　the　change　and　trembledyes；　trembled。　I
believe　he　thought　I　was　some　imperial　ghost　that　the　shadows　of
evening　had　caused　him　to　mistake　for　man；　at　any　rate　he　gasped　out

〃I　beg　your　pardon；　I　was　obeying　orders。　I　hope　your　Majesty　won't
hurt　me。　Now　I　think　of　it　I　have　been　told　that　things　come　out　of
these　old　statues　in　the　night。〃

Then　turning　he　ran；　literally　ran；　where　to　I　am　sure　I　do　not　know；
probably　to　seek　the　fellowship　of　some　other　policeman。　In　due　course
I　followed；　and；　lifting　the　bar　at　the　end　of　the　hall；　departed
without　further　question　asked。　Afterwards　I　was　very　glad　to　think
that　I　had　done　the　man　no　injury。　At　the　moment　I　knew　that　I　could
hurt　him　if　I　would；　and　what　is　more　I　had　the　desire　to　do　so。　It
came　to　me；　I　suppose；　with　that　breath　of　the　past　when　I　was　so
great　and　absolut