Oscar Wilde: A Tale about a Hermit
Irish writer Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) composed this tale about a hermit as part of a collection entitled "Poems in Prose."
THE TEACHER OF WISDOM (1879)
From his childhood he had been as one filled with the perfect knowledge of God,
and even while he was yet but a lad many of the saints, as well as certain holy
women who dwelt in the free city of his birth, had been stirred to much wonder
by the grave wisdom of his answers.
And when his parents had given him the robe and the ring of manhood he kissed
them, and left them and went out into the world, that he might speak to the
world about God. For there were at that time many in the world who either knew
not God at all, or had but an incomplete knowledge of Him, or worshipped the
false gods who dwell in groves and have no care of their worshippers.
And he set his face to the sun and journeyed, walking without sandals, as he had
seen the saints walk, and carrying at his girdle a leathern wallet and a little
water-bottle of burnt clay.
And as he walked along the highway he was full of the joy that comes from the
perfect knowledge of God, and he sang praises unto God without ceasing; and
after a time he reached a strange land in which there were many cities.
And he passed through eleven cities. And some of these cities were in valleys,
and others were by the banks of great rivers, and others were set on hills. And
in each city he found a disciple who loved him and followed him, and a great
multitude also of people followed him from each city, and the knowledge of God
spread in the whole land, and many of the rulers were converted, and the priests
of the temples in which there were idols found that half of their gain was gone,
and when they beat upon their drums at noon none, or but a few, came with
peacocks and with offerings of flesh as had been the custom of the land before
his coming.
Yet the more the people followed him, and the greater the number of his
disciples, the greater became his sorrow. And he knew not why his sorrow was so
great. For he spake ever about God, and out of the fulness of that perfect
knowledge of God which God had Himself given to him.
And one evening he passed out of the eleventh city, which was a city of Armenia,
and his disciples and a great crowd of people followed after him; and he went up
on to a mountain and sat down on a rock that was on the mountain, and his
disciples stood round him, and the multitude knelt in the valley.
And he bowed his head on his hands and wept, and said to his Soul, 'Why is it
that I am full of sorrow and fear, and that each of my disciples is an enemy
that walks in the noonday?' And his Soul answered him and said, 'God filled thee
with the perfect knowledge of Himself, and thou hast given this knowledge away
to others. The pearl of great price thou hast divided, and the vesture without
seam thou hast parted asunder. He who giveth away wisdom robbeth himself. He is
as one who giveth his treasure to a robber. Is not God wiser than thou art? Who
art thou to give away the secret that God hath told thee? I was rich once, and
thou hast made me poor. Once I saw God, and now thou hast hidden Him from me.'
And he wept again, for he knew that his Soul spake truth to him, and that he had
given to others the perfect knowledge of God, and that he was as one clinging to
the skirts of God, and that his faith was leaving him by reason of the number of
those who believed in him.
And he said to himself, 'I will talk no more about God. He who giveth away
wisdom robbeth himself.'
And after the space of some hours his disciples came near him and bowed
themselves to the ground and said, 'Master, talk to us about God, for thou hast
the perfect knowledge of God, and no man save thee hath this knowledge.'
And he answered them and said, 'I will talk to you about all other things that
are in heaven and on earth, but about God I will not talk to you. Neither now,
nor at any time, will I talk to you about God.'
And they were wroth with him and said to him, 'Thou hast led us into the desert
that we might hearken to thee. Wilt thou send us away hungry, and the great
multitude that thou hast made to follow thee?'
And he answered them and said, 'I will not talk to you about God.'
And the multitude murmured against him and said to him, 'Thou hast led us into
the desert, and hast given us no food to eat. Talk to us about God and it will
suffice us.'
But he answered them not a word. For he knew that if he spake to them about God
he would give away his treasure.
And his disciples went away sadly, and the multitude of people returned to their
own homes. And many died on the way.
And when he was alone he rose up and set his face to the moon, and journeyed for
seven moons, speaking to no man nor making any answer. And when the seventh moon
had waned he reached that desert which is the desert of the Great River. And
having found a cavern in which a Centaur had once dwelt, he took it for his
place of dwelling, and made himself a mat of reeds on which to lie, and became a
hermit. And every hour the Hermit praised God that He had suffered him to keep
some knowledge of Him and of His wonderful greatness.
Now, one evening, as the Hermit was seated before the cavern in which he had
made his place of dwelling, he beheld a young man of evil and beautiful face who
passed by in mean apparel and with empty hands. Every evening with empty hands
the young man passed by, and every morning he returned with his hands full of
purple and pearls. For he was a Robber and robbed the caravans of the merchants.
And the Hermit looked at him and pitied him. But he spake not a word. For he
knew that he who speaks a word loses his faith.
And one morning, as the young man returned with his hands full of purple and
pearls, he stopped and frowned and stamped his foot upon the sand, and said to
the Hermit: 'Why do you look at me ever in this manner as I pass by? What is it
that I see in your eyes? For no man has looked at me before in this manner. And
the thing is a thorn and a trouble to me.'
And the Hermit answered him and said, 'What you see in my eyes is pity. Pity is
what looks outat you from my eyes.'
And the young man laughed with scorn, and cried to the Hermit in a bitter voice,
and said to him, 'I have purple and pearls in my hands, and you have but a mat
of reeds on which to lie. What pity should you have for me? And for what reason
have you this pity?'
'I have pity for you,' said the Hermit, 'because you have no knowledge of God.'
'Is this knowledge of God a precious thing?' asked the young man, and he came
close to the mouth of the cavern.
'It is more precious than all the purple and the pearls of the world,' answered
the Hermit.
'And have you got it?' said the young Robber, and he came closer still.
'Once, indeed,' answered the Hermit, 'I possessed the perfect knowledge of God.
But in my foolishness I parted with it, and divided it amongst others. Yet even
now is such knowledge as remains to me more precious than purple or pearls.'
And when the young Robber heard this he threw away the purple and the pearls
that he was bearing in his hands, and drawing a sharp sword of curved steel he
said to the Hermit, 'Give me, forthwith this knowledge of God that you possess,
or I will surely slay you. Wherefore should I not slay him who has a treasure
greater than my treasure?'
And the Hermit spread out his arms and said, 'Were it not better for me to go
unto the uttermost courts of God and praise Him, than to live in the world and
have no knowledge of Him? Slay me if that be your desire. But I will not give
away my knowledge of God.'
And the young Robber knelt down and besought him, but the Hermit would not talk
to him about God, nor give him his Treasure, and the young Robber rose up and
said to the Hermit, 'Be it as you will. As for myself, I will go to the City of
the Seven Sins, that is but three days' journey from this place, and for my
purple they will give me pleasure, and for my pearls they will sell me joy.' And
he took up the purple and the pearls and went swiftly away.
And the Hermit cried out and followed him and besought him. For the space of
three days he followed the young Robber on the road and entreated him to return,
nor to enter into the City of the Seven Sins.
And ever and anon the young Robber looked back at the Hermit and called to him,
and said, 'Will you give me this knowledge of God which is more precious than
purple and pearls? If you will give me that, I will not enter the city.'
And ever did the Hermit answer, 'All things that I have I will give thee, save
that one thing only. For that thing it is not lawful for me to give away.'
And in the twilight of the third day they came nigh to the great scarlet gates
of the City of the Seven Sins. And from the city there came the sound of much
laughter.
And the young Robber laughed in answer, and sought to knock at the gate. And as
he did so the Hermit ran forward and caught him by the skirts of his raiment,
and said to him: 'Stretch forth your hands, and set your arms around my neck,
and put your ear close to my lips, and I will give you what remains to me of the
knowledge of God.' And the young Robber stopped.
And when the Hermit had given away his knowledge of God, he fell upon the ground
and wept, and a great darkness hid from him the city and the young Robber, so
that he saw them no more.
And as he lay there weeping he was ware of One who was standing beside him; and
He who was standing beside him had feet of brass and hair like fine wool. And He
raised the Hermit up, and said to him: 'Before this time thou hadst the perfect
knowledge of God. Now thou shalt have the perfect love of God. Wherefore art
thou weeping?' And he kissed him.
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