But the face of the older hermit grew exceedingly dark, and he cried, “O thou cursed coward, thou wouldst not fight.”

On Giving and Taking

Once there lived a man who had a valley-full of needles.  And one day the mother of Jesus came to him and said:  “Friend, my son’s garment is torn and I must needs mend it before he goeth to the temple.  Wouldst thou not give me a needle?”

And he gave her not a needle, but he gave her a learned discourse on Giving and Taking to carry to her son before he should go to the temple.

The Seven Selves

In the stillest hour of the night, as I lay half asleep, my seven selves sat together and thus conversed in whisper: 

First Self:  Here, in this madman, I have dwelt all these years, with naught to do but renew his pain by day and recreate his sorrow by night.  I can bear my fate no longer, and now I rebel.

Second Self:  Yours is a better lot than mine, brother, for it is given to me to be this madman’s joyous self.  I laugh his laughter and sing his happy hours, and with thrice winged feet I dance his brighter thoughts.  It is I that would rebel against my weary existence.

Third Self:  And what of me, the love-ridden self, the flaming brand of wild passion and fantastic desires?  It is I the love-sick self who would rebel against this madman.

Fourth Self:  I, amongst you all, am the most miserable, for naught was given me but odious hatred and destructive loathing.  It is I, the tempest-like self, the one born in the black caves of Hell, who would protest against serving this madman.

Fifth Self:  Nay, it is I, the thinking self, the fanciful self, the self of hunger and thirst, the one doomed to wander without rest in search of unknown things and things not yet created; it is I, not you, who would rebel.

Sixth Self:  And I, the working self, the pitiful labourer, who, with patient hands, and longing eyes, fashion the days into images and give the formless elements new and eternal forms—­it is I, the solitary one, who would rebel against this restless madman.

Seventh Self:  How strange that you all would rebel against this man, because each and every one of you has a preordained fate to fulfill.  Ah! could I but be like one of you, a self with a determined lot!  But I have none, I am the do-nothing self, the one who sits in the dumb, empty nowhere and nowhen, while you are busy re-creating life.  Is it you or I, neighbours, who should rebel?

When the seventh self thus spake the other six selves looked with pity upon him but said nothing more; and as the night grew deeper one after the other went to sleep enfolded with a new and happy submission.

But the seventh self remained watching and gazing at nothingness, which is behind all things.