manalive-第25章

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madhouse　before　I　reach　my　own　house。　　I　have　been　a　bit　unconventional
in　my　time！　　Why；　Nietzsche　stood　in　a　row　of　ramrods　in　the　silly　old
Prussian　army；　and　Shaw　takes　temperance　beverages　in　the　suburbs；
but　the　things　I　do　are　unprecedented　things。　　This　round　road　I
am　treading　is　an　untrodden　path。　　I　do　believe　in　breaking　out；
I　am　a　revolutionist。　　But　don't　you　see　that　all　these　real　leaps
and　destructions　and　escapes　are　only　attempts　to　get　back　to　Eden
to　something　we　have　had；　to　something　we　at　least　have　heard　of？
Don't　you　see　one　only　breaks　the　fence　or　shoots　the　moon　in　order
to　get　HOME？'

〃‘No；'　I　answered　after　due　reflection；　‘I　don't　think　I　should　accept　that。'

〃‘Ah；'　he　said　with　a　sort　of　a　sigh；　‘then　you　have　explained　a　second
thing　to　me。'

〃‘What　do　you　mean？'　　I　asked；　‘what　thing？'

〃‘Why　your　revolution　has　failed；'　he　said；　and　walking　across　quite
suddenly　to　the　train　he　got　into　it　just　as　it　was　steaming　away　at　last。
And　as　I　saw　the　long　snaky　tail　of　it　disappear　along　the　darkening　flats。

〃I　saw　no　more　of　him。　　But　though　his　views　were　adverse　to　the　best
advanced　thought；　he　struck　me　as　an　interesting　person：　　I　should
like　to　find　out　if　he　has　produced　any　literary　works。Yours；　etc。；
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃Paul　Nickolaiovitch。〃


There　was　something　in　this　odd　set　of　glimpses　into　foreign　lives　which　kept
the　absurd　tribunal　quieter　than　it　had　hitherto　been；　and　it　was　again
without　interruption　that　Inglewood　opened　another　paper　upon　his　pile。
〃The　Court　will　be　indulgent；〃　he　said；　〃if　the　next　note　lacks　the　special
ceremonies　of　our　letter…writing。　It　is　ceremonious　enough　in　its　own　way：


〃The　Celestial　Principles　are　permanent：　　Greeting。I　am　Wong…Hi；
and　I　tend　the　temple　of　all　the　ancestors　of　my　family　in　the　forest
of　Fu。　　The　man　that　broke　through　the　sky　and　came　to　me　said　that　it
must　be　very　dull；　but　I　showed　him　the　wrongness　of　his　thought。
I　am　indeed　in　one　place；　for　my　uncle　took　me　to　this
temple　when　I　was　a　boy；　and　in　this　I　shall　doubtless　die。
But　if　a　man　remain　in　one　place　he　shall　see　that　the　place　changes。
The　pagoda　of　my　temple　stands　up　silently　out　of　all　the　trees；
like　a　yellow　pagoda　above　many　green　pagodas。　　But　the　skies
are　sometimes　blue　like　porcelain；　and　sometimes　green　like　jade；
and　sometimes　red　like　garnet。　　But　the　night　is　always　ebony
and　always　returns；　said　the　Emperor　Ho。

〃The　sky…breaker　came　at　evening　very　suddenly；　for　I　had　hardly
seen　any　stirring　in　the　tops　of　the　green　trees　over　which　I　look
as　over　a　sea；　when　I　go　to　the　top　of　the　temple　at　morning。
And　yet　when　he　came；　it　was　as　if　an　elephant　had　strayed
from　the　armies　of　the　great　kings　of　India。　　For　palms　snapped；
and　bamboos　broke；　and　there　came　forth　in　the　sunshine　before
the　temple　one　taller　than　the　sons　of　men。

〃Strips　of　red　and　white　hung　about　him　like　ribbons　of　a　carnival；
and　he　carried　a　pole　with　a　row　of　teeth　on　it　like　the　teeth　of　a　dragon。
His　face　was　white　and　discomposed；　after　the　fashion　of　the　foreigners；
so　that　they　look　like　dead　men　filled　with　devils；　and　he　spoke
our　speech　brokenly。

〃He　said　to　me；　‘This　is　only　a　temple；　I　am　trying　to　find　a　house。'
And　then　he　told　me　with　indelicate　haste　that　the　lamp　outside　his　house
was　green；　and　that　there　was　a　red　post　at　the　corner　of　it。

〃‘I　have　not　seen　your　house　nor　any　houses；'　I　answered。
‘I　dwell　in　this　temple　and　serve　the　gods。'

〃‘Do　you　believe　in　the　gods？'　he　asked　with　hunger　in　his　eyes；
like　the　hunger　of　dogs。　　And　this　seemed　to　me　a　strange　question
to　ask；　for　what　should　a　man　do　except　what　men　have　done？

〃‘My　Lord；'　I　said；　‘it　must　be　good　for　men　to　hold　up　their　hands　even
if　the　skies　are　empty。　　For　if　there　are　gods；　they　will　be　pleased；
and　if　there　are　none；　then　there　are　none　to　be　displeased。
Sometimes　the　skies　are　gold　and　sometimes　porphyry　and　sometimes
ebony；　but　the　trees　and　the　temple　stand　still　under　it　all。
So　the　great　Confucius　taught　us　that　if　we　do　always　the　same　things
with　our　hands　and　our　feet　as　do　the　wise　beasts　and　birds；　with　our
heads　we　may　think　many　things：　　yes；　my　Lord；　and　doubt　many　things。
So　long　as　men　offer　rice　at　the　right　season；　and　kindle　lanterns
at　the　right　hour；　it　matters　little　whether　there　be　gods　or　no。
For　these　things　are　not　to　appease　gods；　but　to　appease　men。'

〃He　came　yet　closer　to　me；　so　that　he　seemed　enormous；
yet　his　look　was　very　gentle。

〃‘Break　your　temple；'　he　said；　‘and　your　gods　will　be　freed。'

〃And　I；　smiling　at　his　simplicity；　answered：　　‘And　so；　if　there　be　no　gods；
I　shall　have　nothing　but　a　broken　temple。'

〃And　at　this；　that　giant　from　whom　the　light　of　reason　was
withheld　threw　out　his　mighty　arms　and　asked　me　to　forgive　him。
And　when　I　asked　him　for　what　he　should　be　forgiven　he　answered：
‘For　being　right。'

〃‘Your　idols　and　emperors　are　so　old　and　wise　and　satisfying；'
he　cried；　‘it　is　a　shame　that　they　should　be　wrong。
We　are　so　vulgar　and　violent；　we　have　done　you　so　many　iniquities
it　is　a　shame　we　should　be　right　after　all。'

〃And　I；　still　enduring　his　harmlessness；　asked　him　why　he　thought
that　he　and　his　people　were　right。

〃And　he　answered：　　‘We　are　right　because　we　are　bound　where
men　should　be　bound；　and　free　where　men　should　be　free。
We　are　right　because　we　doubt　and　destroy　laws　and　customs
but　we　do　not　doubt　our　own　right　to　destroy　them。　　For　you　live
by　customs；　but　we　live　by　creeds。　　Behold　me！　　In　my　country　I
am　called　Smip。　　My　country　is　abandoned；　my　name　is　defiled；
because　I　pursue　around　the　world　what　really　belongs　to　me。
You　are　steadfast　as　the　trees　because　you　do　not　believe。
I　am　as　fickle　as　the　tempest　because　I　do　believe。
I　do　believe　in　my　own　house；　which　I　shall　find　again。
And　at　the　last　remaineth　the　green　lantern　and　the　red　post。'

〃I　said　to　him：　　‘At　the　last　remaineth　only　wisdom。'

〃But　even　as　I　said　the　word　he　uttered　a　horrible　shout；
and　rushing　forward　disappeared　among　the　trees。
I　have　not　seen　this　man　again　nor　any　other　man。
The　virtues　of　the　wise　are　of　fine　brass。
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃Wong…Hi。〃


〃The　next　letter　I　have　to　read；〃　proceeded　Arthur　Inglewood；　〃will　probably
make　clear　the　nature　of　our　client's　curious　but　innocent　experiment。
It　is　dated　from　a　mountain　village　in　California；　and　runs　as　follows：


〃Sir；A　person　answering　to　the　rather　extraordinary
description　required　certainly　went；　some　time　ago；
over　the　high　pass　of　the　Sierras　on　which　I　live　and
of　which　I　am　probably　the　sole　stationary　inhabitant。
I　keep　a　rudimentary　tavern；　rather　ruder　than　a　hut；
on　the　very　top　of　this　specially　steep　and　threatening　pass。
My　name　is　Louis　Hara；　and　the　very　name　may　puzzle　you
about　my　nationality。　　Well；　it　puzzles　me　a　great　deal。
When　one　has　been　for　fifteen　years　without　society　it　is　hard
to　have　patriotism；　and　where　there　is　not　even　a　hamlet　it
is　difficult　to　invent　a　nation。　　My　father　was　an　Irishman　of
the　fiercest　and　most　free…shooting　of　the　old　Californian　kind。
My　mother　was　a　Spaniard；　proud　of　descent　from　the　old
Spanish　families　round　San　Francisco；　yet　accused　for　all　that
of　some　admixture　of　Red　Indian　blood。　　I　was　well　educated
and　fond　of　music　and　books。　　But；　like　many　other　hybrids；
I　was　too　good　or　too　bad　for　the　world；　and　after　attempting
many　things　I　was　glad　enough　to　get　a　sufficient　though
a　lonely　living　in　this　little　cabaret　in　the　mountains。
In　my　solitude　I　fell　into　many　of　the　ways　of　a　savage。
Like　an　Eskimo；　I　was　shapeless　in　winter；　like　a　Red　Indian；　I　wore
in　hot　summers　nothing　but　a　pair　of　leather　trousers；　with　a
great　straw　hat　as　big　as　a　parasol　to　defend　me　from　the　sun。
I　had　a　bowie　knife　at　my　belt　and　a　long　gun　under　my　arm；
and　I　dare　say　I　produced　a　pretty　wild　impression　on　the　few
peaceable　travellers　that　could　climb　up　to　my　place。
But　I　promise　you　I　never　looked　as　mad　as　that　man　did。
Compared　with　him　I　was　Fifth　Avenue。

〃I　dare　say　that　living　under　the　very　top　of　the　Sierras　has　an　odd
effect　on　the　mind；　one　tends　to　think　of　those　lonely　rocks　not　as　peaks
coming　to　a　point；　but　rather　as　pillars　holding　up　heaven　itself。
Straight　cliffs　sail　up　and　away　beyond　the　hope　of　the　eagles；
cliffs　so　tall　that　they　seem　to　attract　the　stars　and　collect　them　as
sea…crags　collect　a　mere　glitter　of　phosphorous。　　These　terraces　and　towers
of　rock　do　not；　like　smaller　crests；　seem　to　be　the　end　of　the　world。
Rather　they　seem　to　be　its　awful　beginning：　　its　huge　foundations。
We　could　almost　fancy　the　mountain　branching　out　above　us　like　a　tree
of　stone；　and　carrying　all　those　cosmic　lights　like　a　candelabrum。
For　just　as　the　peaks　failed　us；　soaring　impossibly　far；
so　the　stars　crowded　us　（as　it　seemed）；　coming　impossibly　near。
The　spheres　burst　about　us　more　like　thunderbolts　hurled　at　the　earth
than　planets　circling　placidly　about　it。

〃All　this　may　have　driven　me　mad：　　I　am　not　sure。　　I　know　there　is　one
angle　of　the　road　down　the　pass　where　the　rock　leans　out　a　little；
and　on　window　nights　I　seem　to　hear　it　clashing　overhead　with　other　rocks
yes；　city　against　city　and　citadel　against　citadel；　far　up　into　the　night。
It　was　on　such　an　evening　that　the　strange　man　struggled　up　the　pass。
Broadly　speaking；　only　strange　men　did　struggle　up　the　pass。
But　I　had　never　seen　one　like　this　one　before。

〃He　carried　（I　cannot　conceive　why）　a　long；　dilapidated
garden　rake；　all　bearded　and　bedraggled　with　grasses；
so　that　it　looked　like　the　ensign　of　some　old　barbarian　tribe。
His　hair；　which　was　as　long　and　rank　as　the　grass；　hung　down
below　his　huge　shoulders；　and　such　clothes　as　clung　about　him
were　rags　and　tongues　of　red　and　yellow；　so　that　he　had　the　air
of　being　dressed　like　an　Indian　in　feathers　or　autumn　leaves。
The　rake　or　pitchfork；　or　whatever　it　was；　he　used　sometimes
as　an　alpenstock；　sometimes　（I　was　told）　as　a　weapon。
I　do　not　know　why　he　should　have　used　it　as　a　weapon；　for　he　had；
and　afterwards　showed　me；　an　excellent　six…shooter　in　his　pocket。
‘But　THAT；'　he　said；　‘I　use　only　for　peaceful　purposes。'
I　have　no　notion　what　he　meant。

〃He　sat　down　on　the　rough　bench　outside　my　inn　and　drank　some　wine
from　the　vineyards　below；　sighing　with　ecstasy　over　it　like　one
who　had　travelled　long　among　alien；　cruel　things　and　found　at　last
something　that　he　knew。　　Then　he　sat　staring　rather　foolishly　at
the　rude　lantern　of　lead　and　coloured　glass　that　hangs　over　my　door。
It　is　old；　but　of　no　value；　my　grandmother　gave　it　to　me　long　ago：
she　was　devout；　and　it　happens　that　the　glass　is　painted　with　a　crude
picture　of　Bethlehem　and　the　Wise　Men　and　the　Star。　　He　seemed
so　mesmerized　with　the　transparent　glow　of　Our　Lady's　blue　gown　and
the　big　gold　star　behind；　that　he　led　me　also　to　look　at　the　thing；
which　I　had　not　done　for　fourteen　years。

〃Then　he　slowly　withdrew　his　eyes　from　this　and　looked　out　eastward
where　the　road　fell　away　below　us。　　The　sunset　sky　was　a　vault
of　rich　velvet；　fading　away　into　mauve　and　silver　round　the　edges
of　the　dark　mountain　ampitheat