Atmâ | Page 2

and the
founding of Oomritsur, chief of their holy places, were the principal
things that transpired in the history of the Khalsa during a century and a
half, save that the brotherhood was greatly strengthened by Moslem
persecution, occurring at intervals.
But with the death of the ninth gooroo, by Moslem violence, and the
accession of his son Govind, the worldly fortunes of the Khalsa
changed. Under the leadership of Govind, a young man of genius and
enthusiasm, who comes before us in the two-fold character of
religionist and military hero, the Sikhs moved on to a national greatness
not dreamed of by Nanuk. Govind, who bestowed on himself and his
followers the title of Singh, or lion-hearted, hitherto an epithet
appropriated in this connection by the Rajpoot nobility, devoted the
strong energies of his vigourous and daring nature to the purpose of
establishing the faith of Nanuk by force of arms. To this end he
constituted the sword a religious symbol, and instituted a sort of
worship of steel. The Khalsa became an aggressive force bent on the
salvation of surrounding nations by violence, and succeeded so well,
that, eighty-five years after Govind's death, the Sikhs, still retaining
their character of a religious fellowship, were consolidated into a
powerful nation under Runjeet Singh. The dream of her tenth and last
gooroo was realized, the Khalsa was at her height of worldly prosperity,
but her life was no longer the spirit life which had been revealed to her
first founder.
And so under Asiatic skies as well as amid European civilization, man
laboured to redeem the world, making frantic war on the lying creeds of

past ages and proclaiming the merits of his latest discovery.
It is a strange development of human nature this animosity to creeds no
longer our own. Why, if I suffer the loss of faith and hope, must I
hasten to introduce my brother to my sad plight? I may do so, and
perhaps enjoy good conscience in the act by vaunting that I shed light
on his spiritual vision. God help my brother if his light be from me.
And God help me also, if I have attained so high rank among the
blessed before I have learned that the human soul is beyond human aid;
that in its eternal relations each soul travels in an orbit of its own and
holds correspondence only with its Sun.
CHAPTER II.
A century and a half after, Govind Singh had kindled the hearts of his
countrymen with his prophetic visions of a military church regnant on
the hills of Kashmir, there took place the struggle which we call the
second Sikh war, culminating on the twenty-first of February in the
Battle of Gugerat followed by the surrender of the Sikhs to the British
under Lord Gough and the disbandment of the Sikh army. And, lo, the
Khalsa was as a tale that is told, its clang and clash of warlike
achievements a thing that could be no more, its Holy War transformed
by failure into a foolish chimera, and the only thing that lived was a
memory lingering in quiet souls of the truths that Nanuk taught.
"For shapes that come, not at an earthly call, Will not depart when
mortal voices bid."
But many whose faith was in their religion rather than in God felt their
spirit falter, and believed that the universe grew dark. This is ever the
weakness of disciples, and thus it is that while many flocking to the
new standard see all things made plain, others whose hopes are
entwined about the displaced creeds suffer an eclipse of faith.
Among those who in the fall of the Khalsa suffered life's last and sorest
loss was Raee Singh, an aged man, in whose veins ran the blood of the
gentle Nanuk. On that March morning when the disbanded army went
to lay down their arms before a victorious foe, he descended the

mountain slope very slowly. The rest walked in bands of five, of ten, of
twenty, but Raee Singh walked alone. Although his flowing beard was
white, he did not bear himself erect in the dignity of years; his eyes
were fixed on the ground, for the shadow of defeat and dishonour
which rested on him was hard to bear.
Presently he stood before the tent of the British general. A great heap of
weapons lay there glittering in the sun. As he looked, the pile grew
larger, for each Sikh cast his sword there. Raee also extended his arm,
grasping his tulwar, but he did not let it go until an officer touched his
shoulder and spoke. The blade fell then with a clang, and he turned
away. He passed from the camp without seeing it, and took his
homeward way as silently