| The Myth The
great Presiding One, who sits within the Council Chamber of the Lord, spoke to the
Teacher, standing by his side: "Where is the son of man who is the son of God? How
fares he?
How is he tested and with what service is he now engaged?"
The Teacher said, casting his eye upon the son of man who is a son of God:
"Naught at this time, O great Presiding One. The third great test provided much of
teaching sustenance to a learner such as he. He ponders and reflects."
"Provide a test which will evoke his wisest choice. Send him to labor in a field
wherein he must decide which voice, of all the many voices, will arouse the obedience of
his heart. Provide likewise a test of great simplicity upon the outer plane, and yet a
test which will awaken, on the inner side of life, the fulness of his wisdom and the
rightness of his power to choose. Let him proceed with the fourth test."
Before the fourth great Gate stood Hercules; a son of man and yet a son of God. At
first was silence deep. He uttered not a word or made a sound. Beyond the Gate the
landscape stretched in contours fair and on the far horizon stood the temple of the Lord,
the shrine of the Sun-God, the gleaming battlements. Upon a hill nearby there stood a
slender fawn. And Hercules, who is a son of man and yet a son of God, both watched and
listened and, listening, heard a voice. The voice [78] came out from that bright circle of
the moon which is the home of Artemis. And Artemis, the fair, spoke words of warning to
the son of man.
"The doe is mine, so touch it not," she said. "For ages long I nurtured it
and tended it when young. The doe is mine and mine it must remain."
Then into view Diana sprang, the huntress of the heavens, the daughter of the sun. Leaping
on sandalled feet towards the doe, she likewise claimed possession.
"Not so," she said, "Artemis, fairest maid; the doe is mine and mine it
must remain. Too young until today, it now can be of use. The golden antlered hind is
mine, not yours, and mine it shall remain."
Hercules, standing between the pillars of the Gate, listened and heard the quarrel, and
wondered much as the two maidens strove for possession of the doe.
Another voice fell on his ear, and with commanding accents said: "The doe belongs to
neither maid, O Hercules, but to the God whose shrine you see on yonder distant mount. Go
rescue it and bear it to the safety of the shrine, and leave it there. A simple thing to
do, O son of man, yet (and ponder well my words) being a son of God, you thus can seek and
hold the doe. Go forth."
Through the fourth Gate sprang Hercules,
leaving behind the many gifts received and cumbered not himself in the swift chase which
lay ahead. And from a distance the quarrelling maidens watched. Artemis, the fair, bending
from out the moon and Diana, beauteous huntress of the woods of God, followed the
movements of the doe and, when due cause arose, they each deluded Hercules, seeking to
foil his efforts. He chased the doe from point to point and each with subtlety deceived
him. And this they did, time and again.
Thus for the length of a full year, the son of man who is a son of God followed the doe
from place to place, catching swift glimpses of its form, only to find that in the
fastness of the deep [79] woods it had been lost. From hill to hill and wood to wood, he
hunted it until close to a quiet pool, full-length upon the untrampled grass, he saw it
sleeping, wearied with its flight.
With quiet step, outstretched hand and steadfast eye, he shot an arrow towards the doe and
in its foot he wounded it. Exciting all the will of which he was possessed, he nearer drew
and yet the doe moved not. Thus he drew close, and clasped the doe within his arms, close
to his heart. And Artemis and fair Diana both looked on.
"The search is o'er", he chanted loud. "Into the northern darkness I was
led, and found no doe. Into the deep dark woods I fought my way, but found no doe; and
over dreary plains and arid wilderness and deserts wild, I struggled towards the doe, yet
found it not. At each point reached, the maidens turned my steps, but still I did persist
and now the doe is mine! the doe is mine!"
"Not so, O Hercules," came to his ears the voice of one who stands close to the
great Presiding One within the Council Chamber of the Lord. "The doe belongs not to a
son of man, e'en though a son of God. Carry the doe to yonder distant shrine, where dwell
the sons of God and leave it there with them."
"Why so, O Teacher wise? The doe is mine; mine by long search and travel, and mine
likewise because I hold the doe close to my heart."
"And are you not a son of God, although a son of man? And is the shrine not also your
abode? And share you not the life of all who dwell therein? Bear to the shrine of God the
sacred doe, and leave it there, O son of God."
Then to the holy shrine of Mykenae, Hercules
bore the doe, carrying it to the center of the holy place and there he laid it down. And
as he laid it down before the Lord, he noted on its [80] foot the wound, made by an arrow
from the bow he had possessed and used. The doe was his by right of search. The doe was
his by right of skill and the prowess of his arm. "The doe is therefore doubly
mine," he said.
But Artemis, standing within the outer court of that most holy place heard his loud cry of
victory and said: "Not so. The doe is mine and always has been mine. I saw its form,
reflected in the water; I heard its feet upon the ways of earth; I know the doe is mine,
for every form is mine."
The Sun-God spoke, from out the holy place. "The doe is mine, not yours, O Artemis!
Its spirit rests with me from all eternity, here in the center of the holy shrine. You may
not enter here, O Artemis, but know I speak the truth. Diana, that fair huntress of the
Lord, may enter for a moment and tell you what she sees."
Into the shrine for one brief moment passed the huntress of the Lord and saw the form of
that which was the doe, lying before the altar, seeming dead. And in distress she said:
"But if its spirit rests with thee, O great Apollo, noble son of God, then know the
doe is dead. The doe is slain by the man who is a son of man, e'en though a son of God.
Why may he pass within the shrine and we await the doe out here?"
"Because he bore the doe within his arms, close to his heart, and in the holy place
the doe finds rest, and so does man. All men are mine. The doe is likewise mine, not
yours, nor man's but mine."
And Hercules, returning from the test,
passed through the Gate again and found his way, back to the teacher of his life.
"I have fulfiled the task, set by the great Presiding One. Simple it was, except for
length of time and wariness of search. I listened not to those who made their claim, nor
faltered on, the Way. The doe is in the holy place, close to the heart of God [81] and
likewise, in the hour of need, close to my heart also."
"Go look again, O Hercules, my son, between the pillars of the Gate." And
Hercules obeyed. Beyond the Gate, the landscape stretched in contours fair and on the far
horizon stood the temple of the Lord, the shrine of the Sun-God, with glistening
battlements, whilst on a nearby hill there stood a slender fawn.
"Did I perform the test, O Teacher wise? The fawn is back upon the hill where I
earlier saw it stand."
And from the Council Chamber of the Lord, where sits the great Presiding One, there came a
voice: "Again and yet again must all the sons of men, who are the sons of God, seek
for the golden antlered fawn and bear it to the holy place; again and yet again."
Then said the Teacher to the son of man who is a son of God: "Labor the fourth is
over, and from the nature of the test and from the nature of the doe, frequent must be the
search. Forget this not, but ponder on the lesson learnt."
The Tibetan (Djwhal Khul)
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