Atma - A Romance

"Ah," sighed the pensive one, "but the flower is the poppy, for he who

possesses it presently falls asleep."

But his gentle conceit was unheard, for Nawab Khan related a story.

"One sought," said he, "the cave where dwelt a holy hermit of great

reputation for wisdom and learning. He sate him down before the

entrance, and listened with patience and fortitude to the grave and

weighty saws which like bats increase in darkness. Having presently

earned the right of a disciple, he plied the sage with questions,

as:--What is the material and constitution of the soul? Where are laid

the bones of Seth? What bounds the credulity of mankind? These and many

more did the Wise answer in difficult words whose sound carried

conviction. 'He knows all things,' thought the inquirer, 'I need not to

ply him with riddles to whom all things are plain. I will rather seek

counsel for myself concerning what lies at hand.' With that he put the

question, 'What think you of human life?' The hermit, who had halted

hitherto at no question, arose, turned him about, and in silence

withdrew to the depths of his grotto."[2] "Proving," laughed the Rajah, "that he added the virtue of discretion to

his multiform merits. But we turn not our backs on the question until my

illustrious guest Atma Singh of the blood of the Holy Nanuk further

expound the nature of life."

All turned to Atma. The frivolity of the Rajah was distasteful to him in

connection with so grave a theme. His eyes involuntarily sought the

glance of the young Englishman who had spoken. He was an officer in the

British army and his name was Bertram. His expressive face kindled with

kindly grace as the young Sikh claimed sympathy with him in his view of

life as a battlefield.

"But not," said Atma, "that triumph crowns prowess in this fight. I

know that life is a battle in which sooner or later we must all succumb,

but we die knowing that the right is stronger through our struggle."

"I am rebuked, Atma Singh," said Bertram; "your battlefield is a nobler

one than that on which human effort is rewarded by gain. I pray you

continue."

"Behold the strength that comes from a convert," sneered some of the

company, as with fervent though modest speech Atma spoke of the high

courage and dauntless faith which transform defeat into Immortal

victory.

A silence fell on the gay throng. Some were gloomy because reminded of

their national discomfiture. Others looked coldly on Atma and muttered

with discontent-"He speaks of life as a thing that is yet to be."