|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 37
XX
It was at this time that I had a memorable interview with the Master of
the College. He appeared very little among us, though, he occasionally
gave us a short instruction, in which he summed up the teaching on a
certain point. He was a man of extraordinary impressiveness, mainly, I
think, because he gave the sense of being occupied in much larger and
wider interests. I often pondered over the question why the short,
clear, rather dry discourses which fell from his lips appeared to be so
far more weighty and momentous than anything else that was ever said to
us. He used no arts of exhortation, showed no emotion, seemed hardly
conscious of our presence; and if one caught his eye as he spoke, one
became aware of a curious tremor of awe. He never made any appeal to our
hearts or feelings; but it always seemed as if he had condescended for
a moment to put aside far bigger and loftier designs in order to drop a
fruit of ripened wisdom in our way. He came among us, indeed, like a
statesman rather than like a teacher. The brief interviews we had with
him 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 to
suppose that he was not, like all of us, subject to the law of life and
pilgrimage, though one could not conceive of him as having to enter the
arena 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 merely
motioned me to be seated. Presently he put away his papers from him, and
turned round upon me. One of the disconcerting things about him was the
fact that his thought had a peculiarly compelling tendency, and that
while he read one's mind in a flash, his own thoughts remained very
nearly impenetrable. On this occasion he commended me for my work and my
relations with my fellow-students, adding that I had made rapid
progress. He then said, "I have two questions to ask you. Have you any
special relations, either with any one whom you have left behind you on
earth, or with any one with whom you have made acquaintance since you
quitted it, which you desire to pursue?"
I told him, which was the truth, that since my stay in the College I had
become so much absorbed in the studies of the place that I seemed to
have became strangely oblivious of my external friends, but that it was
more a suspension than a destruction of would-be relations.
"Yes," he said, "I perceive that that is your temperament. It has its
effectiveness, no doubt, but it also has its dangers; and, whatever
happens, one ought never to be able to accuse oneself justly of any
disloyalty."
He seemed to wait for me to speak, whereupon I mentioned a very dear
friend of my days of earth; but I added that most of those whom I had
loved best had predeceased me, and that I had looked forward to a
renewal of our intercourse. I also mentioned the names of Charmides and
Cynthia, 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 to
multiply relationships with others, both in the world and out of it; but
we must also practise economy. We must not abandon ourselves to passing
fancies, or be subservient to charm, while if we have made an emotional
mistake, and have been disappointed with one whom we have taken the
trouble to win, we must guard such conquests with a close and peculiar
tenderness. But enough of that, for I have to ask you if there is any
special work for which you feel yourself disposed. There is a great
choice of employment here. You may choose, if you will, just to live
the spiritual life and discharge whatever duties of citizenship you may
be called upon to perform. That is what most spirits do. I need not
perhaps tell you"--here he smiled--"that freedom from the body does not
confer upon any one, as our poor brothers and sisters upon earth seem to
think, a heavenly vocation. Neither of course is the earthly fallacy
about a mere absorption in worship a true one--only to a very few is
that conceded. Still less is this a life of leisure. To be leisurely
here is permitted only to the wearied, and to those childish creatures
with whom you have spent some time in their barren security. I do not
think 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 sufficiently
impartial! For mere labour you are not suited; and yet I hardly think
you would be fit to adopt the most honourable task which your friend
Amroth so finely fulfils--a guide and messenger. What do you think?"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|