Chapter 37

by Herman Melville

　　THE MYSTICAL MASTER INTRODUCES THE PRACTICAL DISCIPLE."Both, the subject and the interlocutor," replied the stranger rising,and waiting the return towards him of a promenader, that moment turningat the further end of his walk."Egbert!" said he, calling."Egbert, a well-dressed, commercial-looking gentleman of about thirty,responded in a way strikingly deferential, and in a moment stood near,in the attitude less of an equal companion apparently than aconfidential follower."This," said the stranger, taking Egbert by the hand and leading him tothe cosmopolitan, "this is Egbert, a disciple. I wish you to knowEgbert. Egbert was the first among mankind to reduce to practice theprinciples of Mark Winsome--principles previously accounted as lessadapted to life than the closet. Egbert," turning to the disciple, who,with seeming modesty, a little shrank under these compliments, "Egbert,this," with a salute towards the cosmopolitan, "is, like all of us, astranger. I wish you, Egbert, to know this brother stranger; becommunicative with him. Particularly if, by anything hitherto dropped,his curiosity has been roused as to the precise nature of my philosophy,I trust you will not leave such curiosity ungratified. You, Egbert, bysimply setting forth your practice, can do more to enlighten one as tomy theory, than I myself can by mere speech. Indeed, it is by you that Imyself best understand myself. For to every philosophy are certain rearparts, very important parts, and these, like the rear of one's head, arebest seen by reflection. Now, as in a glass, you, Egbert, in your life,reflect to me the more important part of my system. He, who approvesyou, approves the philosophy of Mark Winsome."Though portions of this harangue may, perhaps, in the phraseology seemself-complaisant, yet no trace of self-complacency was perceptible inthe speaker's manner, which throughout was plain, unassuming, dignified,and manly; the teacher and prophet seemed to lurk more in the idea, soto speak, than in the mere bearing of him who was the vehicle of it."Sir," said the cosmopolitan, who seemed not a little interested in thisnew aspect of matters, "you speak of a certain philosophy, and a more orless occult one it may be, and hint of its bearing upon practical life;pray, tell me, if the study of this philosophy tends to the sameformation of character with the experiences of the world?""It does; and that is the test of its truth; for any philosophy that,being in operation contradictory to the ways of the world, tends toproduce a character at odds with it, such a philosophy must necessarilybe but a cheat and a dream.""You a little surprise me," answered the cosmopolitan; "for, from anoccasional profundity in you, and also from your allusions to a profoundwork on the theology of Plato, it would seem but natural to surmisethat, if you are the originator of any philosophy, it must needs sopartake of the abstruse, as to exalt it above the comparatively vileuses of life.""No uncommon mistake with regard to me," rejoined the other. Then meeklystanding like a Raphael: "If still in golden accents old Memnon murmurshis riddle, none the less does the balance-sheet of every man's ledgerunriddle the profit or loss of life. Sir," with calm energy, "man cameinto this world, not to sit down and muse, not to befog himself withvain subtleties, but to gird up his loins and to work. Mystery is in themorning, and mystery in the night, and the beauty of mystery iseverywhere; but still the plain truth remains, that mouth and purse mustbe filled. If, hitherto, you have supposed me a visionary, beundeceived. I am no one-ideaed one, either; no more than the seersbefore me. Was not Seneca a usurer? Bacon a courtier? and Swedenborg,though with one eye on the invisible, did he not keep the other on themain chance? Along with whatever else it may be given me to be, I am aman of serviceable knowledge, and a man of the world. Know me for such.And as for my disciple here," turning towards him, "if you look to findany soft Utopianisms and last year's sunsets in him, I smile to thinkhow he will set you right. The doctrines I have taught him will, Itrust, lead him neither to the mad-house nor the poor-house, as so manyother doctrines have served credulous sticklers. Furthermore," glancingupon him paternally, "Egbert is both my disciple and my poet. For poetryis not a thing of ink and rhyme, but of thought and act, and, in thelatter way, is by any one to be found anywhere, when in useful actionsought. In a word, my disciple here is a thriving young merchant, apractical poet in the West India trade. There," presenting Egbert's handto the cosmopolitan, "I join you, and leave you." With which words, andwithout bowing, the master withdrew.