The Child of the Dawn
Page 22
XX
It was at this time that I had a memorable interview with the Master ofthe College. He appeared very little among us, though, he occasionallygave us a short instruction, in which he summed up the teaching on acertain point. He was a man of extraordinary impressiveness, mainly, Ithink, because he gave the sense of being occupied in much larger andwider interests. I often pondered over the question why the short,clear, rather dry discourses which fell from his lips appeared to be sofar more weighty and momentous than anything else that was ever said tous. He used no arts of exhortation, showed no emotion, seemed hardlyconscious of our presence; and if one caught his eye as he spoke, onebecame aware of a curious tremor of awe. He never made any appeal to ourhearts or feelings; but it always seemed as if he had condescended fora moment to put aside far bigger and loftier designs in order to drop afruit of ripened wisdom in our way. He came among us, indeed, like astatesman rather than like a teacher. The brief interviews we had withhim were regarded with a sort of terror, but produced, in me at least,an almost fanatical respect and admiration. And yet I had no reason tosuppose that he was not, like all of us, subject to the law of life andpilgrimage, though one could not conceive of him as having to enter thearena of life again as a helpless child!
On this occasion I was summoned suddenly to his presence. I found him,as usual, bent over his work, which he did not intermit, but merelymotioned me to be seated. Presently he put away his papers from him, andturned round upon me. One of the disconcerting things about him was thefact that his thought had a peculiarly compelling tendency, and thatwhile he read one's mind in a flash, his own thoughts remained verynearly impenetrable. On this occasion he commended me for my work and myrelations with my fellow-students, adding that I had made rapidprogress. He then said, "I have two questions to ask you. Have you anyspecial relations, either with any one whom you have left behind you onearth, or with any one with whom you have made acquaintance since youquitted it, which you desire to pursue?"
I told him, which was the truth, that since my stay in the College I hadbecome so much absorbed in the studies of the place that I seemed tohave became strangely oblivious of my external friends, but that it wasmore a suspension than a destruction of would-be relations.
"Yes," he said, "I perceive that that is your temperament. It has itseffectiveness, no doubt, but it also has its dangers; and, whateverhappens, one ought never to be able to accuse oneself justly of anydisloyalty."
He seemed to wait for me to speak, whereupon I mentioned a very dearfriend of my days of earth; but I added that most of those whom I hadloved best had predeceased me, and that I had looked forward to arenewal of our intercourse. I also mentioned the names of Charmides andCynthia, the latter of whom was in memory strangely near to my heart.
He seemed satisfied with this. Then he said, "It is true that we have tomultiply relationships with others, both in the world and out of it; butwe must also practise economy. We must not abandon ourselves to passingfancies, or be subservient to charm, while if we have made an emotionalmistake, and have been disappointed with one whom we have taken thetrouble to win, we must guard such conquests with a close and peculiartenderness. But enough of that, for I have to ask you if there is anyspecial work for which you feel yourself disposed. There is a greatchoice of employment here. You may choose, if you will, just to livethe spiritual life and discharge whatever duties of citizenship you maybe called upon to perform. That is what most spirits do. I need notperhaps tell you"--here he smiled--"that freedom from the body does notconfer upon any one, as our poor brothers and sisters upon earth seem tothink, a heavenly vocation. Neither of course is the earthly fallacyabout a mere absorption in worship a true one--only to a very few isthat conceded. Still less is this a life of leisure. To be leisurelyhere is permitted only to the wearied, and to those childish creatureswith whom you have spent some time in their barren security. I do notthink you are suited for the work of recording the great scheme of life,nor do I think you are made for a teacher. You are not sufficientlyimpartial! For mere labour you are not suited; and yet I hardly thinkyou would be fit to adopt the most honourable task which your friendAmroth so finely fulfils--a guide and messenger. What do you think?"
I said at once that I did not wish to have to make a decision, but thatI preferred to leave it to him. I added that though I was conscious ofmy deficiencies, I did not feel conscious of any particular capacities,except that I found character a very fascinating study, especially inconnection with the circumstances of life upon earth.
"Very well," he said, "I think that you may perhaps be best suited tothe work of deciding what sort of life will best befit the souls who areprepared to take up their life upon earth again. That is a task of deepand infinite concern; it may surprise you," he added, "to learn thatthis is left to the decision of other souls. But it is, of course, thegoal at which all earthly social systems are aiming, the rightapportionment of circumstances to temperament, and you must not besurprised to find that here we have gone much further in that direction,though even here the system is not perfected; and you cannot begin toapprehend that fact too soon. It is unfortunate that on earth it iscommonly believed, owing to the deadening influence of material causes,that beyond the grave everything is done with a Divine unanimity. But ofcourse, if that were so, further growth and development would beimpossible, and in view of infinite perfectibility there is yet verymuch that is faulty and incomplete. But I am not sure what lies beforeyou; there is something in your temperament which a little baffles me,and our plans may have to be changed. Your very absorption in your work,your quick power of forgetting and throwing off impressions has itsdangers. But I will bear in mind what you have said, and you may for thepresent resume your studies, and I will once more commend you; you havedone well hitherto, and I will say frankly that I regard you as capableof useful and honourable work." He bowed in token of dismissal, and Iwent back to my work with unbounded gratitude and enthusiasm.