It once occurred to a King that if he knew the right moment when to
begin on any work and the right kind of people to have or not to have
dealings with and the thing to do that was more important than any other
thing, he would always be successful.
And he proclaimed throughout his kingdom that he would give a great
reward to any one who could tell him what was the right moment for any
action, and who were the most essential of all people, and what was the
most essential thing of all to do.
Many learned men came to the King and answered his questions in
different ways.
In answer to the first question some said that to know the right time
for any action, one must draw up a time-table of all the days, months
and years and observe it
[Illustration: THREE QUESTIONS.
_To face page_ 158.]
strictly, then one could do everything at the proper time. Others said
that it was impossible to decide beforehand the proper time for any
action; the only thing one could do was to waste no time in vain
amusements, but to pay attention to what was going on around one, and to
do the thing that came to hand. A third said that however attentive the
King might be to what went on around him, one man alone could not decide
the proper time for every action and that he needed a council of wise
men to advise him. Still a fourth maintained that as certain action had
to be decided at once and could not wait a council the proper thing to
do was to find out beforehand what was going to happen so as to be
always prepared. But as only magicians knew what was going to happen,
then it followed that in order to find out the proper time for any
action one must consult the magicians.
The second question, too, was answered in various ways. Some said that
the most essential people to the King were his helpers and ministers;
others said priests; still others that the most essential people to the
King were doctors; a fourth party said that the most essential people to
the King were soldiers.
To the third question about the most important occupation, some declared
it was science, others, the art of war, and others, divine worship.
The answers being different, the King agreed with none of them and gave
no man the promised reward. But still wishing to find out the answers to
his questions, he resolved to consult a hermit who was famous throughout
the land for his wisdom.
The hermit lived in a wood which he never left, and received none but
common folk. For this reason the King put on simple garments, and,
dismissing his body-guard before he reached the hermit’s cell, he
climbed down from his horse and went the rest of the way alone and on
foot.
He found the hermit digging a bed in front of the hermitage. When the
hermit saw the King, he greeted him and went on with his digging. He was
frail and thin and each time he dug his spade into the ground and
turned over a little soil, he gasped for breath.
The King approached him and said, “I have come, oh, wise hermit, to ask
you to give me the answers to these three questions--what hour must one
remember and not allow to slip by, so as not to regret it afterwards?
What people are the most essential and with whom should one or should
one not have dealings? What things are the most essential to do and
which of those things must one do first of all?”
The hermit heard what the King had to say, but made no reply. He spat on
his hand and went on with his digging.
“You are tired,” the King said; “give me the spade and I will do the
digging for you.”
The King took the spade and began to dig, but after a while he stopped
and repeated his question. The hermit made no reply, but stretched out
his hand for the spade.
“You rest now,” he said, “and I will work.”
But the King would not give up the spade and went on with the digging.
One hour passed and another; the sun began to set behind the trees when
the King stuck his spade into the ground and said, “I came to you, wise
man, to find the answers to my three questions. If you cannot answer
them, then tell me and I will go my way home.”
“Some one is running hither,” the hermit said. “Let us see who it is.”
The King turned and saw a bearded man running towards them. The man’s
hands were clasped over his stomach and the blood flowed from beneath
them. He fell at the King’s feet and lay motionless, rolling his eyes
and moaning faintly.
The King and the hermit unfastened the man’s clothes. He had a large
wound in his stomach. The King bathed it as well as he could with his
handkerchief and bandaged it with the hermit’s towel. The blood did not
cease to flow, and several times the King had to remove the bandages,
soaked with warm blood, and rebathe and rebandage the wound.
When the blood ceased to flow, the wounded man came to himself and
asked for some water. The King brought some fresh water and raised it
to the wounded man’s lips.
The sun had quite set meanwhile and it began to get cold. The King, with
the hermit’s help, carried the wounded man into the cell and put him on
the bed. The wounded man shut his eyes and went to sleep. The King was
so tired with the walk and the work that he curled up by the door and
fell into a sound sleep. He slept through the whole mild summer night,
and when he awoke in the morning he could not make out where he was and
who was the strange bearded man staring at him from the bed with
glistening eyes.
“Forgive me,” the bearded man said in a faint voice, when he saw that
the King was awake and observing him.
“I don’t know you and have nothing to forgive you for,” the King said.
“You don’t know me, but I know you. I am your enemy who vowed to be
revenged on you for having executed my brother and taken away my
property: I knew that you went alone to the hermit and resolved to kill
you on your way back. But the day passed and you did not come. I lost
patience and came out to find you, when I stumbled upon your body-guard.
They recognized me and wounded me. I escaped from them, but would have
died from loss of blood had you not bound my wound. I wanted to kill you
and you saved my life. If I continue to live I will serve you as your
most faithful slave should you desire it, and I will order my sons to do
likewise. Forgive me.”
The King was very glad that he had been able to make peace with his
enemy so easily, and not only forgave him but promised to return his
property and to send him his own servants and physician.
Taking leave of the wounded man the King came out of the cell and sought
for the hermit with his eyes. Before going away he wanted to ask him for
the last time to answer his three questions. The hermit was on his knees
by the beds they had dug yesterday, sowing vegetable seeds.
The King approached him and said, “For the last time, wise man, I ask
you to answer my questions.”
“But they are answered already,” the hermit said, squatting on his
emaciated legs and looking at up the King, who stood before him.
“How?” the King asked.
“Don’t you see?” the hermit began; “had you not pitied my weakness
yesterday and dug these beds for me and gone back alone, the man would
have attacked you and you would have regretted that you had not stayed
with me. The important hour at the time was when you dug these beds, and
I was the most essential person to you, and the most essential act was
to do me a kindness. And later, when the man ran up, the most important
hour was when you looked after him, for, had you not bandaged his wound,
he would have died without making his peace with you. He was the most
essential man to you at that time, and what you did for him was the most
essential thing to be done. Always bear in mind that the most important
time is _now_, for it is the only time we have any power over
ourselves; the most essential man is the one with whom you happen to be
at the moment, because you can never be sure whether you will ever have
relations with any one else, and the most essential thing to do is a
kindness to that man, for it was for this purpose we were sent into the
world.”
[Illustration: THE GODSON.
_To face page_ 167.]