When they came to the metropolis the clerk brought many of his
acquaintances to see the student. From his position in the council
chamber, he was able to address and induce many of the ablest of the
councillors to come and inquire. But as soon as they came into the
presence of the student a sort of constraint sprang up between them.
They did not take his words as having any real meaning. They were
occupied all the time on speculating what motive it was that made him
say these things, and as to what kind of difference it was which they
felt existing between him and them.
In fact, as time passed on, no one of any position or power would be
brought into any sort of approximation to him. On the other hand he used
to speak continually with the poorer people. Those that were sick
especially delighted in his presence. There seemed to be in him a power
of stimulating those that were sinking into apathy back again into life.
Those who were worst off in the city seemed to feel when he spoke to
them a promise of an alleviation of their sufferings.
One day the clerk asked him
“How is the child?”
“It is well.”
“But it still seems to breathe with as much difficulty.”
“Yes, but see how happily it runs about.”
“How do you manage to preserve it? Any child which I have seen would be
pining miserably with such an affliction. What is the power which the
being you tell of has given you?”
“It is no power in the sense you mean.”
“Surely it must be. Have I not followed you faithfully and done all I
could to get the wisest in the city to listen to you? Surely the time
has now come when you will tell me what this power is, and, if you can,
let me share it.”
“You do not know what you ask.”
“Tell me, I pray.”
“It is simply this, when I became aware through thought of the being
that is over us I had no message or command from him. But I found that I
could when I stood by any suffering being take some of the suffering and
bear it myself. So as he of whom I tell does with us each moment of our
lives I do occasionally and in a little manner.”
“But what pleasure do you get that makes all this worth your while?”
“There is no pleasure. I am glad to see the being freed from suffering,
and living instead of sinking.”
“Do you mean to say that there is nothing to hope for?”
“I hope the time will come when I shall have a fuller knowledge of the
being I know.”
The clerk was silent. He went out. While he was still thinking over what
he had heard in answer to his inquiries, a messenger came to him from
the chief of the councillors of pleasure and pain, asking him to an
interview.
When the clerk had been ushered into the presence of the chief
councillor, and was alone with him, the latter said:
“I should like a little quiet conversation with you about your
companion.”
“I shall be glad.”
“When you gave up your office and retired you had no expectation of
being concerned in affairs of state again so soon.”
“I did not expect, certainly, and I do not know what your meaning may be
about my being concerned in affairs of state.”
“What I mean is very simple. The continued deliberations, generation
after generation, of the wise men who assemble in the council chamber
have been the cause of the continued progress of the inhabitants.
Nothing is done by them hurriedly or violently, but gradually
improvement after improvement is worked out. But besides this, there
have always been at every age certain disturbances in the state; certain
doctrines are brought forward, and sometimes these tend to good, and
should be encouraged; sometimes they are of unknown import, and must be
studied; sometimes they are against the happiness of the state, and then
the grave responsibility rests upon us of checking them. Now from your
position you have more opportunity of knowing than any one else in what
direction your companion’s doctrines tend. I have sent for you to ask
you to share with me this grave responsibility.”
“I do not think I can help you. I am sure he does not wish to do any
harm. What harm can there be in his doctrines?”
“It is not so much about his doctrines which I want to speak to you as
about another subject. Many of those who have talked with him have
agreed with one another in ascribing a singular oppressiveness to his
presence. The expression was even used by a very worthy friend of mine,
‘He made me feel like a puppet.’ Now what right had he to inflict such a
sensation on a very worthy individual? I want to ask you yourself if you
have ever felt this?”
The clerk hesitated.
“At least, tell me, have you ever found it easy to influence him?”
“No; I do not feel as if I could influence him in the least. He seems to
lack the ordinary springs of motive.”
“Now, should you say that it would be a gain to the community if many
should become like him? Would not they be difficult to govern?”
“Certainly they would be difficult to govern.”
“Would it be a gain in pleasure to the rest of the inhabitants or to
themselves?”
“It would not be a gain to themselves,” said the clerk, recalling the
pain which his companion bore, “but it might be good for the rest of the
inhabitants.”
“Yes,” said the chief councillor, “that is where his strength lies; he
is a very skilful physician or an impostor, and he has the people on his
side from the cures he has effected. Can you tell me anything about his
life?”
“I have heard from him that he was a student, and was exiled; and that
in his place of exile he found out the new doctrines, and he left the
place he was sentenced to. On his way I joined him.”
“So much we know, and it is within our power, according to the
regulations, to compel him to go back, and to punish him for having left
the region he was banished to.”
“If you have that power, why do you not send him back if you think it
would be best for the state for him to disappear?”
“Ah, my good friend, you have heard a great deal of our public
deliberations from your place in the council; but now that we are
consulting together, I must tell you that there are deeper secrets in
the art of government, which you will readily apprehend. Suppose we
arrested this individual and sent him away, the people would not see the
justice of it. They want him now, and they would say that the forms of
law were being used to get rid of him. Of course if his partizans became
violent something of this kind would have to be done. But it is only a
decree that seems just in the eyes of the people that we can prudently
carry out in such a case without attracting even more attention to him
than there is at present.”
The clerk said nothing. The chief councillor went on:
“I am sorry that our conference has come to so little. I was hoping that
I might have found in you a successor to the vacant seat in the chamber.
I know you have the ability to fill it well. But before the advancements
are made some proof of the wisdom of the successor is required. Hitherto
you have not had the chance, but I thought that in this difficult case,
where you have so much better opportunities of observation than any one
else has, you might have shown your mental power and confirmed my
opinion of you. Still, no doubt, on some future occasion you will have
another opportunity when this affair, difficult as it is, is forgotten.”
The chief councillor made a sign that the interview was at an end, but
the clerk remained.
“All that we want,” the chief councillor resumed, “is to form an opinion
from inside knowledge of whether this innovator is likely to cause more
pain or more pleasure if he gains a hearing. Can you advise us? any
particle of knowledge of his inner life, apart from his public
professions, is valuable.”
“There is a singular fact which I should like to tell you of, as it has
been somewhat of a burden to me.”
The chief councillor made a sign of assent, and the clerk told him about
the child, and how it had been preserved.
“And with this child,” he said, “he and I sit when the day’s work is
done.”
“It is indeed a strange story,” said the chief councillor; “you are
quite right in telling me. I was sure you were one on whose discretion
confidence might be placed. You have given me the highest proof I could
have expected. The bearings of this matter must be thought over.”
That evening, as the clerk entered the room where they lived, the
student was leaning over the child with a wearied expression. He went up
to him and laid his hand on his shoulder. The child looked up at them
and laughed. It was quite happy despite the apparent struggles of its
breathing. The student looked at his companion’s face. His weariness
vanished at once, and a strong warm light came into his eyes.
“You seem oppressed, my friend. I know you regret the way in which all
the wise and important people you have brought here look on me, and you
must feel some sorrow for the partial loss of esteem they have showed
you in consequence. Can I help you to bear it?”
At that moment the door opened, and a messenger came in and gave the
clerk a sealed packet. He opened it and saw that it was his appointment
to the vacant seat in the council chamber. But his face did not
brighten. He answered his companion moodily, and thus the day ended.