the mahatma and the hare-第3章

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came　to　me；　I　suppose；　with　that　breath　of　the　past　when　I　was　so
great　and　absolute。　Perhaps　I；　or　that　part　of　me　then　incarnate；　was
a　tyrant　in　those　days；　and　this　is　why　now　I　must　be　so　humble。　Fate
is　turning　my　pride　to　its　hammer　and　beating　it　out　of　me。

For　thus　in　the　long　history　of　the　soul　it　serves　all　our　vices。



THE　GREAT　WHITE　ROAD

Now；　as　I　have　hinted；　under　the　teaching　of　Jorsen；　who　saved　me　from
degradation　and　self…murder；　yes；　and　helped　me　with　money　until　once
again　I　could　earn　a　livelihood；　I　have　acquired　certain　knowledge　and
wisdom　of　a　sort　that　are　not　common。　That　is；　Jorsen　taught　me　the
elements　of　these　things；　he　set　my　feet　upon　the　path　which
thenceforward；　having　the　sight；　I　have　been　able　to　follow　for
myself。　How　I　followed　it　does　not　matter；　nor　could　I　teach　others　if
I　would。

I　am　no　member　of　any　mystic　brotherhood；　and；　as　I　have　explained；　no
Mahatma；　although　I　have　called　myself　thus　for　present　purposes
because　the　name　is　a　convenient　cloak。　I　repeat　that　I　am　ignorant　if
there　are　such　people　as　Mahatmas；　though　if　so　I　think　Jorsen　must　be
one　of　them。　Still　he　never　told　me　this。　What　he　has　told　is　that
every　individual　spirit　must　work　out　its　own　destiny　quite
independently　of　others。　Indeed；　being　rather　fond　of　fine　phrases；　he
has　sometimes　spoken　to　me　of；　or　rather；　insisted　upon　what　he　called
〃the　lonesome　splendour　of　the　human　soul；〃　which　it　is　our　business
to　perfect　through　various　lives　till　I　can　scarcely　appreciate　and　am
certainly　unable　to　describe。

To　tell　the　truth；　the　thought　of　this　〃lonesome　splendour〃　to　which
it　seems　some　of　us　may　attain；　alarms　me。　I　have　had　enough　of　being
lonesome；　and　I　do　not　ask　for　any　particular　splendour。　My　only
ambitions　are　to　find　those　whom　I　have　lost；　and　in　whatever　life　I
live　to　be　of　use　to　others。　However；　as　I　gather　that　the　exalted
condition　to　which　Jorsen　alludes　is　thousands　of　ages　off　for　any　of
us；　and　may　after　all　mean　something　quite　different　to　what　it　seems
to　mean；　the　thought　of　it　does　not　trouble　me　over　much。　Meanwhile
what　I　seek　is　the　vision　of　those　I　love。

Now　I　have　this　power。　Occasionally　when　I　am　in　deep　sleep　some　part
of　me　seems　to　leave　my　body　and　to　be　transported　quite　outside　the
world。　It　travels；　as　though　I　were　already　dead；　to　the　Gates　that
all　who　live　must　pass；　and　there　takes　its　stand；　on　the　Great　White
Road；　watching　those　who　have　been　called　speed　by　continually。　Those
upon　the　earth　know　nothing　of　that　Road。　Blinded　by　their　pomps　and
vanities；　they　cannot　see；　they　will　not　see　it　always　growing　towards
the　feet　of　every　one　of　them。　But　I　see　and　know。　Of　course　you　who
read　will　say　that　this　is　but　a　dream　of　mine；　and　it　may　be。　Still；
if　so；　it　is　a　very　wonderful　dream；　and　except　for　the　change　of　the
passing　people；　or　rather　of　those　who　have　been　people；　always　very
much　the　same。

There；　straight　as　the　way　of　the　Spirit　and　broad　as　the　breast　of
Death；　is　the　Great　White　Road　running　I　know　not　whence；　up　to　those
Gates　that　gleam　like　moonlight　and　are　higher　than　the　Alps。　There
beyond　the　Gates　the　radiant　Presences　move　mysteriously。　Thence　at
the　appointed　time　the　Voice　cries　and　they　are　opened　with　a　sound
like　to　that　of　deepest　thunder；　or　sometimes　are　burned　away；　while
from　the　Glory　that　lies　beyond　flow　the　sweet…faced　welcomers　to
greet　those　for　whom　they　wait；　bearing　the　cups　from　which　they　give
to　drink。　I　do　not　know　what　is　in　the　cups；　whether　it　be　a　draught
of　Lethe　or　some　baptismal　water　of　new　birth；　or　both；　but　always　the
thirsting；　world…worn　soul　appears　to　change；　and　then　as　it　were　to
be　lost　in　the　Presence　that　gave　the　cup。　At　least　they　are　lost　to
my　sight。　I　see　them　no　more。

Why　do　I　watch　those　Gates；　in　truth　or　in　dream；　before　my　time？　Oh！
You　can　guess。　That　perchance　I　may　behold　those　for　whom　my　heart
burns　with　a　quenchless；　eating　fire。　And　once　I　beheldnot　the
mother　but　the　child；　my　child；　changed　indeed；　mysterious；　wonderful；
gleaming　like　a　star；　with　eyes　so　deep　that　in　their　depths　my
humanity　seemed　to　swoon。

She　came　forward；　she　knew　me；　she　smiled　and　laid　her　finger　on　her
lips。　She　shook　her　hair　about　her　and　in　it　vanished　as　in　a　cloud。
Yet　as　she　vanished　a　voice　spoke　in　my　heart；　her　voice；　and　the
words　it　said　were

〃Wait；　our　Beloved！　Wait！〃

Mark　well。　〃Our　Beloved；〃　not　〃My　Beloved。〃　So　there　are　others　by
whom　I　am　beloved；　or　at　least　one　other；　and　I　know　well　who　that　one
must　be。

*****

After　this　dream；　perhaps　I　had　better　call　it　a　dream；　I　was　ill　for
a　long　while；　for　the　joy　and　the　glory　of　it　overpowered　me　and
brought　me　near　to　the　death　I　had　always　sought。　But　I　recovered；　for
my　hour　is　not　yet。　Moreover；　for　a　long　while　as　we　reckon　time；　some
years　indeed；　I　obeyed　the　injunction　and　sought　the　Great　White　Road
no　more。　At　length　the　longing　grew　too　strong　for　me　and　I　returned
thither；　but　never　again　did　the　vision　come。　Its　word　was　spoken；　its
mission　was　fulfilled。　Yet　from　time　to　time　I；　a　mortal；　seem　to
stand　upon　the　borders　of　that　immortal　Road　and　watch　the　newly　dead
who　travel　it　towards　the　glorious　Gates。

Once　or　twice　there　have　been　among　them　people　whom　I　have　known。　As
these　pass　me　I　appear　to　have　the　power　of　looking　into　their　hearts；
and　there　I　read　strange　things。　Sometimes　they　are　beautiful　things
and　sometimes　ugly　things。　Thus　I　have　learned　that　those　I　thought
bad　were　really　good　in　the　main；　for　who　can　claim　to　be　quite　good？
And　on　the　other　hand　that　those　I　believed　to　be　as　honest　as　the　day
well；　had　their　faults。

To　take　an　example　which　I　quote　because　it　is　so　absurd。　The　rooms　I
live　in　were　owned　by　a　prim　old　woman　who　for　more　than　twenty　years
was　my　landlady。　She　and　I　were　great　friends；　indeed　she　tended　me
like　a　mother；　and　when　I　was　so　ill　nursed　me　as　perhaps　few　mothers
would　have　done。　Yet　while　I　was　watching　on　the　Road　suddenly　she
came　by；　and　with　horror　I　saw　that　during　all　those　years　she　had
been　robbing　me；　taking；　I　am　sorry　to　say；　many　things；　in　money；
trinkets；　and　food。　Often　I　had　discussed　with　her　where　these
articles　could　possibly　have　gone；　till　finally　suspicion　settled　upon
the　man　who　cleaned　the　windows。　Yes；　and　worst　of　all；　he　was
prosecuted；　and　I　gave　evidence　against　him；　or　rather　strengthened
her　evidence；　on　faith　of　which　the　magistrate　sent　him　to　prison　for
a　month。

〃Oh！　Mrs　Smithers；〃　I　said　to　her；　〃how　/could/　you　do　it；　Mrs。
Smithers？〃

She　stopped　and　looked　about　her　terrified；　so　that　my　heart　smote　me
and　I　added　in　haste；　〃Don't　be　frightened；　Mrs。　Smithers；　I　forgive
you。〃

〃I　can't　see　you；　sir；〃　she　exclaimed；　or　so　I　dreamed；　〃but　there！　I
always　knew　you　would。〃

〃Yes；　Mrs。　Smithers；〃　I　replied；　〃but　how　about　the　window…cleaner　who
went　to　jail　and　lost　his　situation？〃

Then　she　passed　on　or　was　drawn　away　without　making　any　answer。

Now　comes　the　odd　part　of　the　story。　When　I　woke　up　on　the　following
morning　in　my　rooms；　it　was　to　be　informed　by　the　frightened　maid…of…
all…work　that　Mrs。　Smithers　had　been　found　dead　in　her　bed。　Moreover；
a　few　days　later　I　learned　from　a　lawyer　that　she　had　made　a　will
leaving　me　everything　she　possessed；　including　the　lease　of　her　house
and　nearly　￡1000；　for　she　had　been　a　saving　old　person　during　all　her
long　life。

Well；　I　sought　out　that　window…cleaner　and　compensated　him　handsomely；
saying　that　I　had　found　I　was　mistaken　in　the　evidence　I　gave　against
him。　The　rest　of　the　property　I　kept；　and　I　hope　that　it　was　not　wrong
of　me　to　do　so。　It　will　be　remembered　that　some　of　it　was　already　my
own；　temporarily　diverted　into　another　channel；　and　for　the　rest　I
have　so　many　to　help。　To　be　frank　I　do　not　spend　much　upon　myself。



THE　HARE

Now　I　have　done　with　myself；　or　rather　with　my　own　insignificant
present　history；　and　come　to　that　of　the　Hare。　It　impressed　me　a　good
deal　at　the　time；　which　is　not　long　ago；　so　much　indeed　that　I
communicated　the　facts　to　Jorsen。　He　ordered　me　to　publish　them；　and
what　Jorsen　orders　must