The young man appeared with a single flower.

– What an extraordin­ary feel­ing, and what an excep­tion­al moment! I would like to take you as my mas­ter, I would do any­thing for you. I want to live at your side, I long for your com­pany! Long ago, in a dream of old, I saw a pair of eyes, and now, as we met, those same eyes looked at me… My heart whis­pers that I should pledge myself to you. I will gladly leave everything behind! Love is what mat­ters most, I would so love to learn it! There is noth­ing more won­der­ful in the world than God-con­scious­ness, and so I am will­ing to leave everything behind! I would like to be your dis­ciple!

The mas­ter was taken aback by such sin­cer­ity, and though some­thing trembled with­in him, he assumed the teach­er's unflinch­ing coun­ten­ance:

– All right, what will you give for it?

– My love! – and this answer shattered the teach­er's unflinch­ing coun­ten­ance.

– Very well, and I shall give you my life…

– How could what has happened to me be undone? Could I erase my past?

– How old are you, my son?

– Twenty-two…

– Come now, it is not a past you have, but a future! And remem­ber, the best means of chan­ging the past is the future.

– But I would so love…

– Yes, many would love to become a lute in the hand of God – but who is ready to bear the tor­ments of tun­ing?

– If the dis­ciple becomes an obed­i­ent instru­ment, then per­haps his mas­ter's power will des­cend upon him… Per­haps?

– Well, in that case, yes. Then the rod is an exten­sion of the mas­ter's hand. Oth­er­wise you are only a stick in the dust of the road. But if someone grasps you, lifts you up, takes you in hand – then you may become an out­stretched hand.

– Will you be my mas­ter?

– Let me reverse the ques­tion: will you be my dis­ciple?

– Yes, of course!

– Very well, if you come with me, I will go with you!

*

The dia­logue of the soul's ori­gin­al inno­cence closes with a say­ing of over­whelm­ing power: If you come with me, I will go with you! Simple words, a mean­ing deep and uplift­ing, open­ing infin­ite vis­tas. But can the great prin­ciple of reversal be applied in this case too? Or should we hold the say­ing in such rev­er­ence that we do not even try? Well, if this sen­tence comes from the super­i­or, then it is right as it stands; let us leave its mean­ing undis­turbed, for the say­ing is invi­ol­able and unal­ter­able. But if a sub­or­din­ate were to say it, it would hold true only in reverse: I will go with you, if you come with me. First comes a trust­ing hope, almost a ques­tion, yes, even on the super­i­or's part: Will you come with me? But the sub­or­din­ate, timid though he is, still begins what he has to say with a high degree of resolve: I will go with you…! and only after that comes the plead­ing request: … if you come with me?! But if the mas­ter says it, and the dis­ciple hears it and con­sents, then where is the jour­ney's end?