Once
upon a time, far away in the East, there was a small country that lived
in order and harmony, where each one in his own place played the part
for which he was made, for the greatest good of all.
Farmers,
craftsmen, workmen and merchants all had but one ambition, one concern:
to do their work as best they could. This was in their own interest,
firstly because, since each one had freely chosen his occupation, it
suited his nature and gave him pleasure, and also because they knew
that all good work was fairly rewarded, so that they, their wives and
their children could lead a quiet and peaceful life, without useless
luxury, but with a generous provision for their needs, which was enough
to satisfy them.
The
artists and scientists, few in number but each devoted to his science
or art—his purpose in life—were supported by the grateful
nation, which was the first to benefit from their useful discoveries
and to enjoy their ennobling works. Thus sheltered from the cares of
the struggle for life, these scientists had a single aim: that their
experimental research, their sincere and earnest studies should serve
to allay the sufferings of humanity, to increase its strength and well-being
by making superstition and fear draw back as far as possible before
the knowledge that brings solace and enlightenment. The artists, whose
whole will was free to concentrate upon their art, had only one desire:
to manifest beauty, each according to his own highest conception.
Among
them, as friends and guides, were four philosophers, whose entire life
was spent in profound study and luminous contemplations, to widen constantly
the field of human knowledge and one by one to lift the veils from what
is still a mystery.
All
were content, for they knew no bitter rivalries and could each devote
themselves to the occupation or the study that pleased him. Since they
were happy they had no need for many laws, and their Code was only this:
a very simple counsel to all, "Be yourself", and for all a
single law to be strictly observed, the law of Charity, whose highest
part is Justice, the charity which will permit no wastage and which
will hinder no one in his free evolution. In this way, very naturally,
everyone works at once for himself and for the collectivity.
This
orderly and harmonious country was ruled by a king who was king simply
because he was the most intelligent and wise, because he alone was capable
of fulfilling the needs of all, he alone was both enlightened enough
to follow and even to guide the philosophers in their loftiest speculations,
and practical enough to watch over the organisation and well-being of
his people, whose needs were well known to him.
At
the time when our narrative begins, this remarkable ruler had reached
a great age—he was more than two hundred years old—and although
he still retained all his lucidity and was still full of energy and
vigour, he was beginning to think of retirement, a little weary of the
heavy responsibilities which he had borne for so many years. He called
his young son Meotha to him. The prince was a young man of many and
varied accomplishments. He was more handsome than men usually are, his
charity was of such perfect equity that it achieved justice, his intelligence
shone like a sun and his wisdom was beyond compare; for he had spent
part of his youth among workmen and craftsmen to learn by personal experience
the needs and requirements of their life, and he had spent the rest
of his time alone, or with one of the philosophers as his tutor, in
seclusion in the square tower of the palace, in study or contemplative
repose.
Meotha
bowed respectfully before his father, who seated him at his side and
spoke to him in these words:
"My son, I have ruled this country for more than a hundred and
seventy years and although, to this day, all men of goodwill have seemed
content with my guidance, I fear that my great age will soon no longer
allow me to bear so lightly the heavy responsibility of maintaining
order and watching over the well-being of all. My son, you are my hope
and my joy. Nature has been very generous to you; she has showered you
with her gifts and by a wise and model education you have developed
them most satisfactorily. The whole nation, from the humblest peasant
to our great philosophers, has a complete and affectionate trust in
you; you have been able to win their affection by your kindness and
their respect by your justice. It is therefore quite natural that their
choice should fall on you when I ask for leave to enjoy a well-earned
repose. But as you know, according to age-old custom, no one may ascend
the throne who is not biune, that is, unless he is united by the bonds
of integral affinity with the one who can bring him the peace of equilibrium
by a perfect match of tastes and abilities. It was to remind you of
this custom that I called you here, and to ask you whether you have
met the young woman who is both worthy and willing to unite her life
with yours, according to our wish."
"It
would be a joy to me, my father, to be able to tell you, `I have found
the one whom my whole being awaits', but, alas, this is yet to be. The
most refined maidens in the kingdom are all known to me, and for several
of them I feel a sincere liking and a genuine admiration, but not one
of them has awakened in me the love which can be the only rightful bond,
and I think I can say without being mistaken that in return none of
them has conceived a love for me. Since you are so kind as to value
my judgment, I will tell you what is in my mind. It seems to me that
I should be better fitted to rule our little nation if I were acquainted
with the laws and customs of other countries; I wish therefore to travel
the world for a year, to observe and to learn. I ask you, my father,
to allow me to make this journey, and who knows?—I may return with
my life's companion, the one for whom I can be all happiness and all
protection."
"Your wish is wise, my son. Go—and your father's blessing
be with you."
Amid
the western ocean lies a little island valued for its valuable forests.
One radiant summer's day, a young girl is walking slowly in the shade
of the wonderful trees. Her name is Liane and she is fair among women;
her lithe body sways gracefully beneath light garments, her face, whose
delicate skin seems paler for her carmine lips, is crowned with a heavy
coil of hair so golden that it shines; and her eyes, like two deep doors
opening on limitless blue, light up her features with their intellectual
radiance.
Liane
is an orphan, alone in life, but her great beauty and rare intelligence
have attracted much passionate desire and sincere love. But in a dream
she has seen a man, a man who seems, from his garments, to come from
a distant land; and the sweet and serious gaze of the stranger has won
the heart of the girl—now she can love no other. Since then she
has been waiting and hoping; it is to be free to dream of the handsome
face seen in the night that she is walking amid the solitude of the
lofty woods.
The
dazzling sunlight cannot pierce the thick foliage; the silence is hardly
broken by the light rustle of the moss beneath the footsteps of the
walking girl; all sleeps in the heavy drowse of the noonday heat; and
yet she feels a vague unease, as if invisible beings were hiding in
the thickets, watchful eyes peeping from behind trees.
Suddenly
a bird's song rings out clear and joyful; all uneasiness vanishes. Liane
knows that the forest is friendly if there are beings in the trees,
they cannot wish her harm. She is seized by an emotion of great sweetness,
all appears beautiful and good to her, and tears come to her eyes. Never
has her hope been so ardent at the thought of the beloved stranger;
it seems to her that the trees quivering in the breeze, the moss rustling
beneath her feet, the bird renewing its melody all speak to her of the
One whom she awaits. At the idea that perhaps she is going to meet him
she stops short, trembling, pressing her hands against her beating heart,
her eyes closed to savour to the full the exquisite 11emotion; and now
the sensation grows more and more intense until it is so precise that
Liane opens her eyes, sure of a presence. Oh, wonder of wonders! He
is there, he, he in truth as she has seen him in her dream ... more
handsome than men usually are.—It was Meotha.
With
a look they have recognised each other; with a look they have told each
other of the long waiting and the supreme joy of rediscovery; for they
have known each other in a distant past, now they are sure of it.
She
places her hand in the hand he offers her, and together, silent in a
silence filled with thoughts exchanged, they wend their way through
the forest. Before them appears the sea, calm and green beneath a happy
sun. A great ship sways gently near the shore.
Meekly,
trustingly, Liane follows Meotha into the boat which awaits them, drawn
up on the sand. Two strong oarsmen put it to sea and soon bring them
alongside the vessel.
Only
as she sees the little island disappearing below the horizon does the
girl say to her companion:
"I was waiting for you, and now that you have come, I have followed
you without question. We are made for each other. I feel it, I know
it, and I know also that now and forever you will be my happiness and
my protection. But I loved my island birthplace with its beautiful forests,
and I would like to know to what shore you are taking me."
"I
have sought you throughout the world, and now that I have found you,
I have taken your hand without asking you anything, for in your eyes
I saw that you expected me. From this moment and forever, my beloved
shall be all to me; and if I have made her leave her little wooded isle,
it is to lead her as a queen to her kingdom, the only land on earth
that is in harmony, the only nation that is worthy of Her."
October
1906
-
The Mother
