{"id":4328,"date":"2013-07-13T01:55:14","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:55:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=4328"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:55:14","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:55:14","slug":"01-the-path-of-later-on-vol-02-words-of-long-ago-volume-02","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/02-works-of-the-mother\/01-cwmce\/02-words-of-long-ago-volume-02\/01-the-path-of-later-on-vol-02-words-of-long-ago-volume-02","title":{"rendered":"-01_The Path of Later On.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n
\n
\n

\n\t
\n Words Of Long Ago<\/span><\/font><\/p>\n

\n
\nThe Path of Later On <\/font> <\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\u201cThe path of later-on and the road of
\ntomorrow lead only to the castle of nothing-at-all.\u201d<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

B<\/span>y the
\nwayside, many-coloured<\/span> flowers delight the eye, red
\nberries gleam on small trees with knotty branches, and in the distance a
\nbrilliant sun shines gold upon the ripe corn. <\/span><\/p>\n

A young traveller is walking briskly
\nalong, happily breathing in the pure morning air; he seems joyful, without a
\ncare for the future. The way he is following comes to a cross-roads, where innumerable
\npaths branch off in all directions. <\/span><\/p>\n

Everywhere the young man can see criss<\/span>-crossing foot-prints. The sun shines ever bright in
\nthe sky; the birds are singing in the trees; the day promises to be very
\nbeautiful. Without thinking, the traveller takes the path that is nearest to
\nhim, which seems, after all, quite practicable; it occurs to him for a moment
\nthat he could have chosen another way; but there will always be time to retrace
\nhis steps if the path he has taken leads nowhere. A voice seems to tell him,
\n\u201cTurn back, turn back, you are not on the right road.\u201d But everything around
\nhim is charming and delightful. What should he do? He does not know. He goes on
\nwithout taking any decision; he enjoys the pleasures of the moment. \u201cIn a
\nlittle while,\u201d he replies to the voice, \u201cin a little while I shall think; I
\nhave plenty of time.\u201d The wild grasses around him whisper in his ear, \u201cLater.\u201d
\nLater, yes, later. Ah, how pleasant it is to breathe the scented breeze, while
\nthe sun warms the air with its fiery rays. Later, later. And the traveller
\nwalks on; the path widens. Voices are heard from afar, \u201cWhere are you going?
\nPoor fool, don’t you see that you are heading for your ruin? You are young;
\ncome, come to us, to the beautiful, the good, the true; do not be misled by
\nindolence and weakness; do not fall asleep in the present; come to the future.\u201d
\n\u201cLater, later,\u201d the traveller answers these unwelcome voices. The<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-1<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

flowers smile at him and echo, \u201cLater.\u201d The path becomes wider and
\nwider. The sun has reached its zenith; it is a glorious day. The path becomes a
\nroad. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The road is white and
\ndusty, bordered with slender birch-trees; the soft purling of a little stream
\nis heard; but in vain he looks in every direction, he can see no end to this
\ninterminable road. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The young man, feeling
\na secret unease, cries, \u201cWhere am I? Where am I going?… What does it matter?
\nWhy think, why act? Let us drift along on this endless road; let us walk on, I
\nshall think tomorrow.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The small trees have
\ndisappeared; oak-trees line the road; a gully runs on either side. The
\ntraveller feels no weariness; he is borne along as if in a delirium. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The gully becomes
\ndeeper; the oaks give way to fir-trees; the sun begins to go down. In a daze,
\nthe traveller looks all around him; he sees human figures rolling into the
\nravine, clutching at the fir-trees, the sheer rocks, the roots jutting from the
\nground. Some of them are making great efforts to climb out; but as they come
\nnear to the edge, they turn their heads and let themselves fall back. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Hollow voices cry out
\nto the traveller, \u201cFlee this place; go back to the cross-roads; there is still
\ntime.\u201d The young man hesitates, then replies, \u201cTomorrow.\u201d He covers his face
\nwith his hands so as not to see the bodies rolling into the ravine, and runs
\nalong the road, drawn on by an irresistible urge to go forward. He no longer
\nwonders whether he will find a way out. With furrowed brow and clothes in
\ndisorder, he runs on in desperation. At last, thinking himself far away from
\nthe accursed place, he opens his eyes: there are no more fir-trees; all around
\nare barren stones and grey dust. The sun has disappeared beyond the horizon;
\nnight is coming on. The road has lost itself in an endless desert. The
\ndesperate traveller, worn out by his long run, wants to stop; but he must walk
\non. All around him is ruin; he hears stifled cries; his feet stumble on
\nskeletons. In the distance, <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-2<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

the thick mist takes on terrifying shapes; black forms loom up;
\nsomething huge and misshapen suggests itself. The traveller flies rather than
\nwalks towards the goal he senses and which seems to flee from him; wild cries
\ndirect his steps; he brushes against phantoms. <\/span><\/p>\n

At last he sees before him a huge edifice,
\ndark, desolate, gloomy, a castle to make one say with a shudder: \u201cA haunted
\ncastle.\u201d But the young man pays no attention to the bleakness of the place;
\nthese great black walls make no impression on him; as he stands on the dusty
\nground, he hardly trembles at the sight of these formidable towers; he thinks
\nonly that the goal is reached, he forgets his weariness and discouragement. As
\nhe approaches the castle, he brushes against a wall, and the wall crumbles;
\ninstantly everything collapses around him; towers, battlements, walls have
\nvanished, sinking into dust which is added to the dust already covering the
\nground. <\/span><\/p>\n

Owls, crows and bats fly out in all
\ndirections, screeching and circling around the head of the poor traveller who,
\ndazed, downcast, overwhelmed, stands rooted to the spot, unable to move;
\nsuddenly, horror of horrors, he sees rising up before him terrible phantoms who
\nbear the names of Desolation, Despair, Disgust with life, and amidst the ruins
\nhe even glimpses Suicide, pallid and dismal above a bottomless gulf. All these
\nmalignant spirits surround him, clutch him, propel him towards the yawning
\nchasm. The poor youth tries to resist this irresistible force, he wants to draw
\nback, to flee, to tear himself away from all these invisible arms entwining and
\nclasping him. But it is too late; he moves on towards the fatal abyss. He feels
\ndrawn, hypnotized by it. He calls out; no voice answers to his cries. He grasps
\nat the phantoms, everything gives way beneath him. With haggard eyes he scans
\nthe void, he calls out, he implores; the macabre laughter of Evil rings out at
\nlast. <\/span><\/p>\n

The traveller is at the edge of the gulf.
\nAll his efforts have been in vain. After a supreme struggle he falls\u2026from his
\nbed. <\/span><\/p>\n

A young student had a long essay to
\nprepare for the follow-<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-3<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

ing<\/span><\/span> morning. A little tired by his day’s work, he had said to himself
\nas he arrived home, \u201cI shall work later.\u201d Soon afterwards he thought that if he
\nwent to bed early, he could get up early the next morning and quickly finish
\nhis task. \u201cLet’s go to bed,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cI shall work better tomorrow;
\nI shall sleep on it.\u201d He did not know how truly he spoke. His sleep was
\ntroubled by the terrible nightmare we have described, and his fall awoke him
\nwith a start. Thinking over what he had dreamt, he exclaimed, \u201cBut it’s quite
\nclear: the path is called the path of `later on’, the road is the road of
\n`tomorrow’ and the great building the castle of `nothing at all’.\u201d Elated at
\nhis cleverness, he set to work, vowing to himself that he would never put off
\nuntil tomorrow what he could do today. <\/span><\/p>\n

1893<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-4<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n


\n
\nThe
\nVirtues<\/font><\/a><\/span><\/b> <\/span><\/p>\n

(A tale for young and old<\/i>)<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

O<\/span>nce upon a
\ntime there was a splendid palace, in the heart of which lay a secret sanctuary,
\nwhose threshold no being had ever crossed. Furthermore, even its outermost
\ngalleries were almost inaccessible to mortals, for the palace stood on a very
\nhigh cloud, and very few, in any age, could find the way to it. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>It was the <\/span>palace<\/span> of <\/span>Truth<\/span>. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>One day a festival was
\nheld there, not for men but for very different beings, gods and goddesses great
\nand small, who on earth are honoured by the name of Virtues. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The vestibule of the
\npalace was a great hall, where the walls, the floor, the ceiling, luminous in
\nthemselves, were resplendent with a myriad glittering fires. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>It was the Hall of
\nIntelligence. Near to the ground, the light was very soft and had a beautiful
\ndeep sapphire hue, but it became gradually clearer towards the ceiling, from
\nwhich girandoles of diamonds hung like chandeliers, their myriad facets
\nshooting dazzling rays. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The Virtues came
\nseparately, but soon formed congenial groups, full of joy to find themselves
\nfor once at least together, for they are usually so widely scattered throughout
\nthe world and the worlds, so isolated amid so many alien beings. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Sincerity reigned over
\nthe festival. She was dressed in a transparent robe, like clear water, and held
\nin her hand a cube of purest crystal, through which things can be seen as they
\nreally are, far different from what they usually seem, for there their image is
\nreflected without distortion. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Near to her, like two
\nfaithful guardians, stood Humility, at once respectful and proud, and Courage,
\nlofty-browed, clear-eyed, his lips firm and smiling, with a calm and resolute
\nair. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Close beside Courage,
\nher hand in his, stood a woman, completely veiled, of whom nothing could be
\nseen but her searching
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-5<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/span>e   eyes, shining through her veils. It was
\nPrudence.    <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Among them all, coming and
\ngoing from one to another and yet seeming always to remain near to each one,
\nCharity, at once vigilant and calm, active and yet discrete, left behind her as
\nshe passed through the groups a trail of soft white light. The light that she
\nspreads and softens comes to her, through a radiance so subtle that it is
\ninvisible to most eyes, from her closest friend, her inseparable companion, her
\ntwin sister, Justice. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>And around Charity thronged
\na shining escort, Kindness, Patience, Gentleness, Solicitude, and many others. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>All of them are there,
\nor so at least they think. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>But then suddenly, at
\nthe golden threshold, a newcomer appears. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>With great reluctance
\nthe guards, set to watch the gates, have agreed to admit her. Never before had
\nthey seen her, and there was nothing in her appearance to impress them. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>She was indeed very
\nyoung and slight, and the white dress which she wore was very simple, almost
\npoor. She takes a few steps forward with a shy, embarrassed air. Then,
\napparently ill at ease to find herself in such a large and brilliant company,
\nshe pauses, not knowing towards whom she should go. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>After a brief exchange
\nwith her companions, Prudence steps forward at their request and goes towards
\nthe stranger. Then, after clearing her throat, as people do when they are
\nembarrassed, to give herself a moment to reflect, she turns to her and says: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cWe who are gathered
\nhere and who all know each other by our names and our merits are surprised at
\nyour coming, for you appear to be a stranger to us, or at least we do not seem
\nto have ever seen you before. Would you be so kind as to tell us who you are?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Then the newcomer
\nreplied with a sigh: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cAlas! I am not
\nsurprised that I appear to be a stranger in this palace, for I am so rarely
\ninvited anywhere. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cMy name is Gratitude.\u201d
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

1904<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-6<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n


\nA Sapphire Tale<\/font><\/a><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n


\n <\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

O<\/span>nce upon a
\ntime, far away in the East, there was a small country that lived in order and harmony,
\nwhere each one in his own place played the part for which he was made, for the
\ngreatest good of all. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0
\n<\/span>Farmers, craftsmen, workmen and merchants all had but one ambition, one
\nconcern: to do their work as best they could. This was in their own interest,
\nfirstly because, since each one had freely chosen his occupation, it suited his
\nnature and gave him pleasure, and also because they knew that all good work was
\nfairly rewarded, so that they, their wives and their children could lead a
\nquiet and peaceful life, without useless luxury, but with a generous provision
\nfor their needs, which was enough to satisfy them. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The artists and
\nscientists, few in number but each devoted to his science or art \u2013 his purpose
\nin life \u2013 were supported by the grateful nation, which was the first to benefit
\nfrom their useful discoveries and to enjoy their ennobling works. Thus
\nsheltered from the cares of the struggle for life, these scientists had a
\nsingle aim: that their experimental research, their sincere and earnest studies
\nshould serve to allay the sufferings of humanity, to increase its strength and
\nwell-being by making superstition and fear draw back as far as possible before
\nthe knowledge that brings solace and enlightenment. The artists, whose whole
\nwill was free to concentrate upon their art, had only one desire: to manifest
\nbeauty, each according to his own highest conception.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Among them, as friends
\nand guides, were four philosophers, whose entire life was spent in profound
\nstudy and luminous contemplations, to widen constantly the field of human
\nknowledge and one by one to lift the veils from what is still a mystery. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>All\u00a0 <\/span>were content, for they knew no bitter
\nrivalries and could each devote themselves to the occupation or the study that
\npleased him. Since they were happy they had no need for many
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-7<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

laws, and their Code was only this: a very simple counsel to all,
\n\u201cBe yourself\u201d, and for all a single law to be strictly observed, the law of
\nCharity, whose highest part is Justice, the charity which will permit no
\nwastage and which will hinder no one in his free evolution. In this way, very
\nnaturally, everyone works at once for himself and for the collectivity. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>This orderly and harmonious
\ncountry was ruled by a king who was king simply because he was the most
\nintelligent and wise, because he alone was capable of fulfilling the needs of
\nall, he alone was both enlightened enough to follow and even to guide the
\nphilosophers in their loftiest speculations, and practical enough to watch over
\nthe organisation and well-being of his people, whose needs were well known to
\nhim. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>At the time when our
\nnarrative begins, this remarkable ruler had reached a great age \u2013 he was more
\nthan two hundred years old \u2013 and although he still retained all his lucidity
\nand was still full of energy and vigour, he was beginning to think of
\nretirement, a little weary of the heavy responsibilities which he had borne for
\nso many years. He called his young son Meotha<\/span> to him.
\nThe prince was a young man of many and varied accomplishments. He was more
\nhandsome than men usually are, his charity was of such perfect equity that it
\nachieved justice, his intelligence shone like a sun and his wisdom was beyond
\ncompare; for he had spent part of his youth among workmen and craftsmen to
\nlearn by personal experience the needs and requirements of their life, and he
\nhad spent the rest of his time alone, or with one of the philosophers as his
\ntutor, in seclusion in the square tower of the palace, in study or
\ncontemplative repose. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Meotha<\/span>
\nbowed respectfully before his father, who seated him at his side and spoke to
\nhim in these words: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cMy son, I have ruled
\nthis country for more than a hundred and seventy years and although, to this
\nday, all men of goodwill have seemed content with my guidance, I fear that my
\ngreat\u00a0 <\/span>age will soon no longer allow me
\nto bear so lightly the heavy responsibility of maintaining order and watching
\nover the well- <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-8<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

being of all. My son, you are my hope and my joy. Nature has been
\nvery generous to you; she has showered you with her gifts and by a wise and
\nmodel education you have developed them most satisfactorily. The whole nation,
\nfrom the humblest peasant to our great philosophers, has a complete and
\naffectionate trust in you; you have been able to win their affection by your
\nkindness and their respect by your justice. It is therefore quite natural that
\ntheir choice should fall on you when I ask for leave to enjoy a well-earned
\nrepose. But as you know, according to age-old custom, no one may ascend the
\nthrone who is not biune, that is, unless he is united by the bonds of integral
\naffinity with the one who can bring him the peace of equilibrium by a perfect
\nmatch of tastes and abilities. It was to remind you of this custom that I
\ncalled you here, and to ask you whether you have met the young woman who is
\nboth worthy and willing to unite her life with yours, according to our wish.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cIt would be a joy to
\nme, my father, to be able to tell you, `I have found the one whom my whole
\nbeing awaits’, but, alas, this is yet to be. The most refined maidens in the
\nkingdom are all known to me, and for several of them I feel a sincere liking
\nand a genuine admiration, but not one of them has awakened in me the love which
\ncan be the only rightful bond, and I think I can say without being mistaken
\nthat in return none of them has conceived a love for me. Since you are so kind
\nas to value my judgment, I will tell you what is in my mind. It seems to me that
\nI should be better fitted to rule our little nation if I were acquainted with
\nthe laws and customs of other countries; I wish therefore to travel the world
\nfor a year, to observe and to learn. I ask you, my father, to allow me to make
\nthis journey, and who knows? \u2013 I may return with my life’s companion, the one
\nfor whom I can be all happiness and all protection.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cYour wish is wise, my
\nson. Go \u00ad\u2013 and your father’s blessing be with you.\u201d
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>Page-9<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

Amid the western ocean lies a little island valued for its
\nvaluable forests. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>One radiant summer’s
\nday, a young girl is walking slowly in the shade of the wonderful trees. Her
\nname is Liane<\/span> and she is fair among women; her lithe
\nbody sways gracefully beneath light garments, her face, whose delicate skin
\nseems paler for her carmine lips, is crowned with a heavy coil of hair so
\ngolden that it shines; and her eyes, like two deep doors opening on limitless
\nblue, light up her features with their intellectual radiance. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Liane<\/span>
\nis an orphan, alone in life, but her great beauty and rare intelligence have
\nattracted much passionate desire and sincere love. But in a dream she has seen
\na man, a man who seems, from his garments, to come from a distant land; and the
\nsweet and serious gaze of the stranger has won the heart of the girl \u2013 now she
\ncan love no other. Since then she has been waiting and hoping; it is to be free
\nto dream of the handsome face seen in the night that she is walking amid the
\nsolitude of the lofty woods. <\/span><\/p>\n

The dazzling sunlight cannot pierce the
\nthick foliage; the silence is hardly broken by the light rustle of the moss
\nbeneath the footsteps of the walking girl; all sleeps in the heavy drowse of
\nthe noonday heat; and yet she feels a vague unease, as if invisible beings were
\nhiding in the thickets, watchful eyes peeping from behind trees. <\/span><\/p>\n

Suddenly a bird’s song rings out clear and
\njoyful; all uneasiness vanishes. Liane<\/span> knows that the
\nforest is friendly \u2013 if there are beings in the trees, they cannot wish her
\nharm. She is seized by an emotion of great sweetness, all appears beautiful and
\ngood to her, and tears come to her eyes. Never has her hope been so ardent at
\nthe thought of the beloved stranger; it seems to her that the trees quivering
\nin the breeze, the moss rustling beneath her feet, the bird renewing its melody
\n\u2013 all speak to her of the One whom she awaits. At the idea that perhaps she is
\ngoing to meet him she stops short, trembling, pressing her hands against her
\nbeating heart, her eyes closed to savour<\/span> to the full
\nthe ex-<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nPage-10<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

quisite<\/span><\/span> emotion; and now the sensation grows more
\nand more intense until it is so precise that Liane<\/span>
\nopens her eyes, sure of a presence. Oh, wonder of wonders! He is there, he, he
\nin truth as she has seen him in her dream … more handsome than men usually
\nare. \u2013 It was Meotha<\/span>. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>With a look they have recognised<\/span>
\neach other; with a look they have told each other of the long waiting and the
\nsupreme joy of rediscovery; for they have known each other in a distant past,
\nnow they are sure of it. <\/span><\/p>\n

She places her hand in the hand he offers
\nher, and together, silent in a silence filled with thoughts exchanged, they
\nwend their way through the forest. Before them appears the sea, calm and green
\nbeneath a happy sun. A great ship sways gently near the shore.<\/span><\/p>\n

Meekly, trustingly, Liane<\/span>
\nfollows Meotha<\/span> into the boat which awaits them, drawn
\nup on the sand. Two strong oarsmen put it to sea and soon bring them alongside
\nthe vessel. <\/span><\/p>\n

Only as she sees the little island
\ndisappearing below the horizon does the girl say to her companion: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI was waiting for you, and now that you
\nhave come, I have followed you without question. We are made for each other. I
\nfeel it, I know it, and I know also that now and forever you will be my
\nhappiness and my protection. But I loved my island birthplace with its
\nbeautiful forests, and I would like to know to what shore you are taking me.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI have sought you throughout the world,
\nand now that I have found you, I have taken your hand without asking you anything,
\nfor in your eyes I saw that you expected me. From this moment and forever, my
\nbeloved shall be all to me; and if I have made her leave her little wooded
\nisle, it is to lead her as a queen to her kingdom, the only land on earth that
\nis in harmony, the only nation that is worthy of Her.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>October 1906<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-11<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Words Of Long Ago The Path of Later On   \u201cThe path of later-on and the road of tomorrow lead only to the castle of…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[123],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4328","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-02-words-of-long-ago-volume-02","wpcat-123-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4328","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4328"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4328\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4328"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4328"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4328"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}