Years ago we went up the Ganges River in India. I was then a traveling correspondent, and we visited Argra, the sacred city of northern India, going thence to the Taj Mahal. Then we hired an ox team to take us across country twenty-two miles to visit the summer home of Ackba, the great Mogul of India. That is a wonderful, but dead city.
I have never been sorry that I traversed that country. What I saw and heard furnished me with a story which I have never seen in print. _Harper's Magazine_ recently published an illustrated article upon the city, so that if you secure the files you may find the account of that wonderful dead city at Futtepore Sicree.
As we were being shown around those buildings the old guide, full of Eastern lore, told us a tradition connected with the ancient history of that place which has served me often as an illustration of the practical ideas I desire to advance. I wrote it down in the "hen tracks" of short-hand which are now difficult to decipher. But I remember well the story.
He said that there was a beautiful palace on that spot before the great Mogul purchased it. That previous palace was the scene of the traditional story. In the palace there was a throne-room, and at the head of that room there was a raised platform, and upon the platform was placed the throne of burnished gold. Beside the throne was a pedestal upon which rested the wonderful Crown of Silver, which the emperor wore when his word was to be actual law. At other times he was no more than an ordinary citizen. But when he assumed that crown, which was made of silver because silver was then worth much more than gold, his command was as absolute as the law of the Medes and Persians.
The guide said that when the old king who had ruled that country for many years died he was without heirs, leaving no person to claim that throne or to wear that Crown of Silver. The people, believing in the divine right of kings, were unwilling to accept any person to rule who was not born in the royal line. They wasted twelve years in searching for some successor, some relative of the late king. At last the people sank into anarchy, business ceased, famine overspread the land, and the afflicted people called upon the astrologers--their priests--to find a king.
The astrologers, who then worshiped the stars, met in that throne-room and, consulting their curious charts, asked of the stars:
"Where shall we find a successor to our king?"
The stars made to them this reply:
"Look up and down your country, and when you find _a man whom the animals follow, the sun serves, the waters obey, and mankind love_, you need not ask who his ancestors were. This man will be one of the royal line entitled to the throne of gold and the Crown of Silver."
The astrologers dispersed and began to ask of the people:
"Have you seen a man whom the animals follow, the sun serves, the waters obey, and mankind love?"
They were only met with ridicule. At last, in his travels, one gray old astrologer found his way into the depths of the Himalaya Mountains. He was overtaken by a December storm and sought shelter in a huntsman's cottage on the side of a mountain.
That night, as he lay awake, weeping for his suffering and dying people, he suddenly heard the howl of a wild beast down the valley. He listened as it drew nearer. He detected "the purr of the hyena, the hiss of the tiger, and the howl of the wolf." In a moment or two those wild animals sniffed at the log walls within which the astrologer lay. In his fright he arose to close the window lest they should leap in where the moonlight entered. While he stood by the window he saw the dark outline of his host, the huntsman, descending the ladder from the loft to the floor. The astrologer saw the huntsman approach the door as though he were about to open it and go out. The astrologer leaped forward, and said:
"Don't open that door! There are tigers, panthers, hyenas, and wolves out there."
The huntsman replied:
"Lie down, my friend, in peace. These are acquaintances of mine."
He flung open the door and in walked tiger, panther, hyena, and wolf. Going to the corner of his hut, the huntsman took down from a cord, stretched across the corner, the dried weeds which he had gathered the fall before because he _had noticed_ that those weeds were antidotes for poisoned wild animals. Those poisoned animals had sniffed the antidote from afar and gathered at his door. When he opened that door they followed him to the corner of the hut, in peace with one another because of their common distress. He fed each one the antidote for which it came, and each one licked his hand with thanks and turned harmlessly out the door. Then the huntsman closed the door after the last one, and went to his rest as though nothing remarkable had happened.
This is the fabulous tradition as it was told me.
When the old astrologer lay down on his rug after the animals were gone, he said to himself, "The animals follow him," and then he caught upon the message of the stars and said, "It may be this huntsman is the king," but on second thought he said, "Oh no; he is not a king. How would he look on a throne of gold and wearing a Crown of Silver--that ignorant, horny-handed man of the mountains? He is not the king."
The next morning it was cold and they desired a fire, and the huntsman went outside and gathered some leaves and sticks. He put them in the center of the hut upon the ground floor. He then drew aside a curtain which hid a crystal set in the roof, which he had placed there because he _had noticed_ that the crystal brought the sunlight to a focused point upon the floor. Then the astrologer saw, as that spot of light approached the leaves and sticks with the rising of the sun, the sticks began to crackle. Then the leaves began to curl, little spirals of smoke arose, and a flame flashed forth. As the astrologer looked on that rising flame, he said to himself:
"The sun has lit his fire! The sun serves him; and the animals followed him last night; after all, it may be that he is the king."
But on second thought he said to himself again: "Oh, he is not the king; for how would I look with all my inherited nobility, with all my wealth, cultivation, and education, as an ordinary citizen of a kingdom of which this ignorant fellow was a king? It is far more likely to be me."
A little later the astrologer desired water to drink, and he applied to the huntsman, and the huntsman said, "There is a spring down in the valley where I drink."
So down to the spring went the astrologer. But the wind swept down and roiled the shallow water so that he could not drink, and he went back and complained of that muddy water. The huntsman said:
"Is that spring rebellious? I will teach it a lesson."
Going to another corner of his hut, he took down a vial of oil which he himself had collected, and, going down to the spring with the vial of oil, he dropped the oil upon the waters. Of course, the surface of the spring became placid beauty. As the astrologer dipped his glittering bowl into the flashing stream and partook of its cooling draught, he felt within him the testimony, "This is the king, for the waters obey him!" But again he hesitated and said, "I hope he is not the king."
The next day they went up into the mountains, and there was a dam holding back, up a valley, a great reservoir of water. The astrologer said, "Why is there a dam here with no mill?" And the huntsman said: "A few years ago I was down on the plains, and the people were dying for want of water. My heart's sympathies went out for the suffering and dying humanity, and when I came back here _I noticed_...."
I may as well stop here in this story and emphasize this phrase. He said, "When I came back here _I noticed_." This is the infallible secret of success. I wish you to be happy; I wish you to be mighty forces of God and man; I wish you to have fine homes and fine libraries and money invested, and here is the only open road to them. By this road only have men who have won great success traveled.
The huntsman said: "When I came back here _I noticed_ a boulder hanging on the side of the mountain. _I noticed_ it could be easily dislodged, and _I noticed_ that it would form an excellent anchorage in the narrow valley for a dam. _I noticed_ that a small dam here would hold back a large body of water in the mountain. I let the boulder fall, filled in for the dam, and gathered the water. Now every hot summer's day I come out and dig away a little more of the dam, and thus keep the water running in the river through the hot season. Then, when the fall comes on, I fill up the dam again and gather the waters for the next year's supply."
When the astrologer heard that he turned to the huntsman and said:
"Do mankind down on the plains know that you are their benefactor?"
"Oh yes," said he; "they found it out. I was down there a little while ago, selling the skins I had taken in the winter, and they came around me, kissed me, embraced me, and fairly mobbed me with their demonstrations of gratitude. I will never go down on the plains again."
When the astrologer heard that _mankind loved him_, all four conditions were filled. He fell upon his knees, took the horny hand of the huntsman, looked up into his scarred face, and said:
"Thou art a king born in the royal line. The stars did tell us that when we found a man whom the animals followed, the sun served, the waters obeyed, and mankind loved, he would be the heir entitled to the throne, and thou art the man!"
But the huntsman said: "I a king! Oh, I am not a king! My grandfather was a farmer!"
The astrologer said: "Don't talk about your grandfather. That has nothing to do with it. The stars told us thou art the man."
The huntsman replied: "How could I rule a nation, knowing nothing about law? I never studied law!"
Then the astrologer cut short the whole discussion with a theological dictum quoted from the ancient sacred books, which I will give in a very literal translation:
"Let not him whom the stars ordain to rule dare disobey their divine decree."
Now I will put that into a phrase a little more modern:
"Never refuse a nomination!"
When the huntsman heard that very wise decision he consented to be led down to the Juna Valley and to the beautiful palace. There they clothed him in purple. Then, amid the acclaim of happy and hopeful people, they placed upon his brow that badge of kingly authority--the Silver Crown. For forty years after that, so the old guide said to us, he ruled the nation and brought it to a peace and prosperity such as it had never known before and has never enjoyed since.
That wonderful tradition, so full of illustrative force, has remained with me all the subsequent years. When I look for a man to do any great work, I seek one having these four characteristics. If he has not all four he must have some of them, or else he is good for little in modern civilization.