AGATHOS 
 
 AND 
 
 W. ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 MUEL WILBERFORCE
 
 IBRARY
 
 8V
 
 i
 
 i 
 
 AGATHOS 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 AND OTHER SUNDAY 
 STORIES AND PARABLES
 
 CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE, 
 
 C. F. CLAY, Manager. 
 
 iiontjon: FETTER LANE, E.C. 
 
 ©lasgofaj: 50, WELLINGTON STREET. 
 
 ILdpng: F. A. BROCKHAUS. 
 
 iilcfajgorfe: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS. 
 
 Bomfaan ant) (Calcutta: MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd. 
 
 I A /I Rights reser7>ed.]
 
 AGATHOS 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND
 
 "My speech shall distil as the dew, as the small rain 
 upon the tender herb." — Deut. xxxii. 2. 
 
 "Even a child is known by his doings." — 
 
 Prov. XX. II.
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO 
 AGATHOS 
 
 The author of these stories was the third son 
 of the famous William Wilberforce. He was 
 born in 1805; in 1830 he was made Rector of 
 Brighstone in the Isle of Wight, from which he 
 moved in 1840 to the rectory of Alverstoke. Five 
 years later, he became Dean of Westminster; 
 but within six months of his installation to the 
 Deanery he was made Bishop of Oxford, and 
 then, after nearly twenty-five years of strenuous 
 and influential work, was translated to Winchester 
 in 1869. He was killed by a fall from his horse 
 in 1873. 
 
 These stories were written while the author 
 was Rector of Brighstone, in 1839. On January 
 23 of that year he wrote to his brother, " I am 
 just now very busy. I have engaged to write an 
 introduction to, and revise, a set of sacramental 
 prayers etc., which Burns is bringing out" — this 
 was the admirable little volume called Eucha- 
 ristica — "then I have my Oxford sermon to 
 prepare, and divers other little things in hand." 
 Of these "divers other little things" one was 
 Agathos, and other Simday stories^ " which he 
 mentions," his biographer tells us, "in his diary
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 as finished on May 17, having been written in 
 the first instance for his own children ; the apple 
 tree in the garden, under which the most part of 
 it was written, is still pointed out" (Ashwell 
 Life of Bp Wilberforce^ Vol. i. p, 140). 
 
 The little book had an immediate success. 
 It ran through eight editions in three years. 
 A twenty-third edition of it was published in 
 1 86 1. This means that on an average at least 
 one new edition was required every year till that 
 date. It has been many times reprinted since, 
 though the actual number of editions is difficult 
 to ascertain. In whole or in part, it has been 
 translated into French, German, Welsh, and 
 Arabic, — perhaps into other languages also. The 
 author had himself been brought up in one of 
 the most pious of English households, and well 
 knew how to meet the requirements of religious 
 family life. Generations of English Christians 
 have now learned to think with gratitude and 
 affection of the book which taught them so much 
 and in so pleasant a form in the days of their 
 childhood. 
 
 In the present edition the short dialogues have 
 been omitted which in some cases followed the 
 narratives. It was thought that the meaning and 
 application of the stories were sufficiently ob- 
 vious without them, and that to some extent the 
 
 vi
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 dialogues detracted from the artistic effect of the 
 book. In those cases where the story is based 
 upon particular texts of Scripture, the reference 
 has been prefixed in square brackets ; where the 
 reference is not in brackets, the author had him- 
 self prefixed it. An explanation of the Greek 
 names has been added at the foot of the page. 
 No other alteration, except occasionally in punc- 
 tuation, has been made in this edition ; even a few 
 forms of words which appear to be incorrect, like 
 su7ik for sank^ laid for laiti^ Edone for Hedone, 
 have been left as the author wrote them. 
 
 A. J. MASON. 
 
 Pembroke College, 
 
 Cambridge. 
 
 25 February, 1908. 
 
 Vll
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Introductory Note to Agathos 
 
 Preface .... 
 
 Advertisement 
 
 Agathos, or, the whole armour of God 
 
 The Ravens in the Famine . 
 
 The Man in the Dungeon . 
 
 The Children and the Lion . 
 
 The Storm at Sea 
 
 The Two Roads. A Dream 
 
 The Spring Morning . 
 
 The Runners .... 
 
 The Young Shepherd . 
 
 The Tent on the Plain 
 
 Introductory Note to Rocky Island 
 
 Preface .... 
 
 The Rocky Island 
 
 The Vision of the Three States 
 
 The Little Wanderers 
 
 The King and his Servants . 
 
 The Prophet's Guard . 
 
 The Brothers' Meeting; or, the Sins of Youth 
 
 PAGE 
 V 
 
 / 
 
 17 
 
 21 
 
 27 
 
 31 
 
 40 
 
 51 
 
 77 
 96 
 
 115 
 116 
 117 
 132 
 
 175 
 
 186 
 211 
 
 219 
 
 IX
 
 PREFACE 
 
 THE following allegories and stories have 
 been actually related by the Author to his 
 children on successive Sunday evenings. He 
 began the practice with the earnest desire of 
 combining some sort of occupation suitable to 
 the Lord's-day with something which might 
 amuse his little ones. Few parents can, he 
 thinks, have failed to feel the want which he 
 would here hope in some measure to supply. 
 
 On the one hand, if the conversations and 
 employments of Sunday are not early marked 
 as different from those of other days, how is it 
 possible that our children can grow up with 
 a deeply-rooted reverence for its holiness? On 
 the other hand, if the day is one which they 
 remember only for its dulness, how can children 
 grow up in the love of this blessed season .'* 
 "Everlasting droopings^" their young hearts 
 least of all will "bear." And if on other days 
 they are used to amusing employments, if they 
 love (and all children should be made to love 
 them) the times of relaxation in which they 
 1 Herbert's " Country Parson," cxxvii. 
 M. % I
 
 PREFACE 
 
 see their parents as friends, and in some sort 
 companions, what else can happen, if on this 
 day all amusement be banished, and all interest 
 removed, but that they will grow insensibly to 
 feel the Lord's-day a weariness? But if the 
 week-day's tale is changed for the Sunday story ; 
 if the child is really interested in it, he learns, 
 even unawares, to separate in his own mind the 
 first day of the week from its common days; 
 and that by a pleasurable separation. 
 
 Such has been, to a remarkable degree, the 
 effect of the first telling of these stories in 
 the Author's family; and such he cannot help 
 hoping may be more widely their effect when 
 they are given to the public. The questions at 
 the close of each^ are designed as tracks, not as 
 grooves, and they may easily be multiplied or 
 reduced in number, according to the judgment 
 of the parent, or the age and intelligence of the 
 child. Some of them are the very answers he 
 received from his children. 
 
 One word more should be said about the 
 plan of these narratives. The Author's greatest 
 care has been, while interweaving in them as 
 much instruction as he could about the Holy 
 Scriptures, its allegories, and some of its most 
 striking narratives, to keep as far as possible 
 ^ They are omitted in this edition.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 from all lowering down of holy things, or making 
 the mysteries of the faith common and cheap 
 to childish imaginations. Against this most 
 dangerous evil, which appears to him to infest 
 and poison many of the current religious books 
 for children, he begs here most earnestly to 
 protest, as against that which is laying unawares 
 the foundation of untold evils, in accustoming 
 the mind to look curiously, and with levity, on 
 things which man must never approach but with 
 humiliation and adoration. " Put off thy shoes 
 from off thy feet ; for the place whereon thou 
 standest is holy ground." This should be from 
 the first the temper carefully wrought into our 
 children's minds, if we would have them approach 
 God with acceptance. 
 
 To teach them to think boldly of mysteries, 
 in the vain hope of explaining to their childish 
 minds what in the fulness of their highest un- 
 derstanding they can never truly comprehend, 
 may make them shrewd and forward questioners, 
 but cannot make them meek and teachable dis- 
 ciples. 
 
 It only remains further to say, for what age 
 these stories are intended. The Author's children 
 reach from five to nine years old, and are of 
 ordinary powers of comprehension. Of these, the 
 eldest has been fully interested by the simplest 
 
 3 1—2
 
 PREFACE 
 
 narratives, and the youngest has understood 
 the most difficult. All the applications of the 
 allegorical tales they of course will not under- 
 stand at first ; but in the Author's judgment, this 
 is the very excellence of allegorical instruction. 
 The minds of children may be fatally dwarfed 
 by never having presented to them anything but 
 that which they can understand without effort ; 
 whilst it is exceedingly difficult to devise any- 
 thing which shall at the same time attract their 
 attention and stretch their faculties. It is exactly 
 this want which allegory supplies : the story 
 catches the attention of the youngest ; glimpses 
 of the under-meaning continually flash into their 
 minds, and whilst it is difficult to say exactly 
 how much they have fully understood, it is clear 
 that it has been enough to give them interest, 
 and arouse their faculties. 
 
 May God hereby bless some of the tender 
 lambs of His fold.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 TO THE SECOND EDITION 
 
 THE rapid sale of a numerous edition of this 
 little work not only proves the existence 
 of the want which it is intended to supply, but 
 is also a gratifying mark of the kindness with 
 which the attempt has been received. 
 
 On one point the Author has been requested 
 to say a single word in explanation of his plan. 
 Some of the stories are gathered from Holy 
 Scripture, and yet do not adhere in every par- 
 ticular to the letter of the Bible narrative : and 
 he has been requested to explain the principle 
 of such variations. They consist, then, he would 
 say, in every case, of the mere marking out of 
 lines which the general sketch of Scripture 
 appeared to him to contain : — the fiUing up for 
 his young readers of the picture, which is set 
 before them there in outline merely. Thus, for 
 instance, in the ninth story, David is represented 
 as slaying the lion and the bear in a time of 
 snow, though this is not mentioned in the passage 
 which records the fact. But in another chapter 
 we find the slaying of a lion especially recorded 
 
 5
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 with the addition that it was "in the time of 
 snow": — 2 Sam. xxiii. 20; and this seeming to 
 point out the season of the year at which such 
 beasts were wont to leave their more retired 
 haunts, it is introduced to perfect the picture 
 which the brief narrative of Scripture sketches 
 only in outline. 
 
 No further liberty has been taken with the 
 letter of God's word; and this does not, the 
 Author trusts, exceed the just and necessary 
 limits of exposition.
 
 SUNDAY STORIES 
 
 AGATHOS, OR, THE WHOLE ARMOUR 
 OF GOD 
 
 [Ephesians vi ii — 17] 
 
 There was once a brave king whose country- 
 was visited by a very fierce and deadly dragon. 
 The king chose out therefore some of his best 
 soldiers, and sent them into that part of the land 
 where this dragon was doing so much mischief. 
 Before they went, he said to them — "You all 
 know that I have fought with this dragon, and 
 conquered and smote him, though he put forth 
 all his rage and power against me. All my 
 faithful followers must tread in my footsteps ; 
 they must overcome as I overcame, and then 
 they shall sit upon the steps of my throne. 
 Therefore I send you out to fight with this 
 monster, and my strength shall go forth with 
 you in the battle. Be therefore upon your guard.
 
 AGATHOS, 
 
 If you remember my words, and call upon my 
 name in the time of danger; and above all, if 
 you take and use boldly all the armour I have 
 provided for you ; then the dragon can never 
 hurt you. But if he finds you unprepared — if 
 he comes upon you without your armour, then 
 he will certainly set upon you and slay you." 
 
 The soldiers promised to be upon their guard, 
 and set off in high spirits into the land where 
 the evil beast lay. When first they came there, 
 they kept their guard very diligently, and always 
 wore their armour. They never all slept at once ; 
 but some always watched whilst the others rested. 
 It was a fine sight to see these brave men in 
 their shining armour, marching up and down the 
 land, and all the people safe and happy because 
 the king's army was keeping guard. It was 
 a fine sight to see them early in the morning, 
 when some one or two had long been watching 
 whilst the others slept, and they were now about 
 to change turns ; it was a fine sight to see how 
 the brave men would wake up refreshed by sleep, 
 and put on carefully their armour, and try their 
 swords to see that they were keen and sharp ; 
 and then kneel down and pray, and call upon 
 the name of their prince, and then go out to 
 keep their guard against the evil dragon. 
 
 This was a noble sight to see, but, alas, it 
 
 8
 
 OR, THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD 
 
 did not last: all the time they watched, they 
 never saw the dragon. All went on quietly 
 round them. The farmers ploughed their lands, 
 and the reapers were soon about to reap in the 
 harvest; there were marriages, and feasts, and 
 pleasures, and business ; and the soldiers began 
 to think that perhaps after all it was but an 
 empty tale that had been spoken of the dragon, 
 and to forget their master's word about watching 
 and standing fast. The weather, too, grew very 
 hot and sultry, and their arms seemed heavier 
 than they had ever done before. " What," said 
 one, "can be the use of always wearing this 
 heavy lumbering helmet? The sun heats it till 
 it scorches me up ; and no one ever sees this 
 terrible dragon. I shall leave my helmet in the 
 tent ; it will be time enough to run and fetch it 
 when I see the dragon coming." So said another 
 of his breastplate; and another found his shield 
 so troublesome and cumbrous, that he laid it 
 up in the tent ; and the ground had grown so 
 hot and sandy that they found their brazen 
 sandals tire and burn their feet, so they cast 
 them too away, and sauntered about, some 
 here and some there ; to this feast, and to that 
 wedding ; some without this part of their armour, 
 and some without that, until you could scarcely 
 have known them, unless you looked very close
 
 AGATHOS, 
 
 to find the king's mark, to be the soldiers of 
 the king, who had looked so bright and terrible, 
 when their prince sent them out with their armour 
 and his warnings into the far battle-field. 
 
 One indeed there was of the troop, who would 
 not give in to their ways ; Agathos^ was his name, 
 and sorely was he grieved by the sight of careless 
 comrades. Often and often did he remind them 
 of their prince's caution, and tell them that the 
 enemy was surely near, although as yet they saw 
 him not; that their prince could not be mistaken, 
 for that he himself had fought with the dragon, 
 and knew how terrible he was. The rest also 
 laughed and jeered at the brave man, and called 
 him coward, and many other hard names, because 
 he would not do as they did. But he meekly put 
 up with it all; and neither their hard words, nor 
 the hot sun by day, making him often faint, nor 
 the weary sands over which he had to march, 
 nor the cold wet dews of the night, could make 
 Agathos lay aside the armour which his prince 
 had bid him wear; or to take off the brazen 
 sandals from his swollen feet, or cease watching 
 carefully all the night through. 
 
 All this went on for some time longer, and 
 the hard words of the idle soldiers grew harder 
 and harder as they became more and more sure 
 ^ " Agathos" is the Greek for " good."
 
 OR, THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD 
 
 that they should never see their enemy. But 
 just when they thought themselves most safe the 
 danger was at hand. For now there were fearful 
 sights to be seen, if one could have been by to 
 witness them. One of the soldiers was coming 
 home about this time from a great feast, at 
 which he had been. There had been mirth, 
 and merriment, and songs, and dances, and the 
 soldier had taken off his armour; and now he 
 was walking lightly home to his tent, through the 
 pleasant summer evening air. He was thinking 
 of the merry party which had just broken up, 
 and what a happy life he was leading, and 
 pitying Agathos, whose fears and scruples kept 
 him always pacing about the tent in his heavy 
 armour. But just as these thoughts passed 
 through his mind, he heard a strange rustling 
 noise in a wood upon his right hand; and in an 
 instant, as quick as lightning, the dreadful form 
 of the fierce dragon stood before him. His knees 
 knocked together as he felt at his side for the 
 keen sword his prince had given him: but it 
 was not there. The dragon was making at him, 
 and in his terror he called upon his king, but 
 something seemed to tell him it was too late 
 now ; that he would not bear the burden of his 
 armour, and therefore that there was no one to 
 help him — and he turned to fliy, but the place
 
 AGATHOS, 
 
 seemed all beset with piercing darts which the 
 dragon had cast upon the ground ; and he had 
 thrown away the king's sandals of brass ; so his 
 feet failed him and he fell upon the ground, and 
 the evil beast devoured him. So it was with one 
 and another, and their companions missed them ; 
 and at first they wondered why they came not 
 home; then they looked sad and grave for a 
 while, when they spoke of them, but soon they 
 feasted, and ate, and drank just as merrily, and 
 forgot their armour and their prince's word, and 
 knew not that danger was at hand. 
 
 But the dragon, who had gained courage by 
 all these victories over the soldiers of the prince 
 whom he feared, now thought he might attack 
 the camp itself, and slay all his enemies at once. 
 
 Long time he lay hid in the wood bordering 
 on the camp: for he saw Agathos walking up 
 and down, and keeping guard as he had done 
 always, and he saw his biting sword hanging 
 at his side, and his huge shield with a bright 
 red cross upon it hung over his shoulder, and 
 he remembered his battle with the prince, and 
 he feared. 
 
 But when the next noon-day was come, and 
 Agathos, who had watched long, had gone into 
 his tent and laid down to get a little needful 
 sleep, whilst his companions were all around the 
 
 12
 
 OR, THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD 
 
 tent, then the dragon thought that his time was 
 come, and with a mighty yell he rushed forth 
 from the cover of the wood, and fell, tooth and 
 nail, upon the soldiers, tearing some with his 
 cruel claws, fixing his iron teeth in others, and 
 stinging many to death with his poisonous tail. 
 Then was there a great cry all through the camp 
 for the forgotten armour; and one seized a sword 
 .and made against the dragon for a moment, 
 but because he had no helmet, whilst he was 
 aiming a blow, the dragon darted his claws 
 upon his head, and he fell down slain ; and by 
 this time another had rushed up with a helmet 
 buckled on, and a sword in his hand, and he 
 fought longer, and gave the dragon a wound, 
 whereupon he cast forth his burning sting, which 
 reached all around to his loins, and as there was 
 no armour girded on them, he, too, fell down 
 and died. Then started up another, and he 
 seemed wellnigh armed, but in his hurry he 
 could not wait to seek for the shield which 
 he had thrown carelessly aside; and so when 
 he joined in battle with the dragon, and smote 
 at him with his good sword, and had wounded 
 him somewhat, and the dragon could not seize 
 upon his helmeted head, or sting his well greaved 
 loins; suddenly he saw the evil one cast fiery 
 darts out of his wicked talons, and these his 
 
 13
 
 AGATHOS, 
 
 sword could not stop, and he had no shield on 
 which to catch them, and so they lighted upon 
 him and pierced through his armour, and he fell 
 down slain ; and the next was overcome, because 
 in the hot fight, when his shield was knocked 
 aside for a moment, his breast was without its 
 breastplate, and so he was wounded to the death ; 
 and another fell through the broken darts with 
 which the ground was strewn, because he had 
 come forth from his tent without his sandals ; and 
 now the dragon was triumphing in the greatness 
 of his strength, and thinking soon to swallow up 
 the prince's army. 
 
 But the noise had woke Agathos from a sweet 
 holy dream, which had been cheering his sleep. 
 He thought he saw his prince standing near him 
 just as he had been when he fought himself with 
 the dragon ; blood dropped from his hands and 
 his feet, but the dragon was trodden under 
 them; and he thought his master looked upon 
 him with his own look of strength and kindness, 
 and said, "Good and faithful servant," "thou 
 shalt go upon the lion and the adder, the young 
 lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy 
 feet; and fear not, for I am with thee." Even 
 with these words sounding in his ears he was 
 roused by the cry of his companions, and the 
 fierce voice of the dragon. Then, as he had 
 
 14
 
 OR, THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD 
 
 always expected his attack, Agathos was not 
 startled or hurried ; but, springing from the 
 ground, he girded his bright sword upon his 
 thigh ; and his breastplate, and his greaves, and 
 his sandals were all bound upon him in their 
 places, for even in sleep he would not cast them 
 off; and he fitted his helmet on his head, and 
 drew his arm through the handle of his shield ; 
 and then he knelt down upon the ground, and 
 called upon the Lord, and thought upon his 
 prince, and rushed out into the battle. When 
 the enemy saw him coming, he left trampling 
 on the slain and moved on to meet him. Then 
 was there a dreadful battle between that good 
 soldier of his Lord and the fierce enemy. More 
 than once was Agathos beaten on his knees, and 
 could but just keep up the good shield of faith 
 against the storm of blows and showers of fiery 
 darts which the evil one poured forth ; yet even 
 as he touched the ground it seemed as if new 
 strength came into him, and he lifted up the 
 feeble knees, and smote with a mightier strength 
 against the accursed destroyer. The battle still 
 was raging when the sun went down: and the 
 good soldier was wellnigh sinking, when he 
 gathered all his might into one strong blow, 
 and caUing out aloud upon the name of his 
 prince, he smote the dragon so fiercely that he 
 
 15
 
 AGATHOS 
 
 uttered a piercing cry and fled quite away, and 
 left him to himself. Then was Agathos right 
 glad, and he kneeled down and prayed, and gave 
 thanks; and over the battle-field he could see 
 the form of his master coming to him amongst 
 the dews of the evening ; and he heard his voice, 
 and he saw his countenance, and his happy 
 dream was more than true, and he dwelled for 
 ever in the presence of his prince. 
 
 i6
 
 II 
 
 THE RAVENS IN THE FAMINE 
 [i Kings xvii i — 6] 
 
 The spring-time was come, and the birds had 
 all built their nests, and sat upon their smooth 
 round eggs till they had hatched them; and 
 now they were busy flying here and there, and 
 running along the ground, some picking up seeds, 
 and some catching flies, and some seizing every 
 worm which put his head above the damp 
 ground ; and all carrying them off as fast as 
 possible to feed their young ones, as they were 
 taught to do by the instinct which God Almighty 
 had given them. It was a busy, happy scene. 
 Cheerful too it was to the ear as well as to the 
 eye; for sometimes they stopped from their 
 labour to sing a song of praise to the good God 
 who has made this happy world. 
 
 Amongst these birds there were two great 
 black ones called ravens. These flew to a town 
 a long way off, and there they lighted by a great 
 shop, where a man was busy seUing bread and 
 meat to the people who came to buy. The man 
 
 M. 17 2
 
 THE RAVENS IN THE FAMINE 
 
 threw them each a lump of bread and piece of 
 meat for the sport of the people round: and 
 the birds took them in their strong beaks, and 
 flew straight away with them — and the people 
 clapped their hands and shouted. But they were 
 all surprised when just at night the same birds 
 came again to the same place, and seemed to 
 ask for more, and then flew away with what 
 was given them, just as they had done in the 
 morning. The next day they came again as 
 soon as the shop was open, and when they had 
 got what they wanted, away they flew with it, 
 and were seen no more till night, and then again 
 they only stayed till some bread and meat was 
 given them ; and then nobody saw more of 
 them. Many persons tried to watch them ; they 
 must have, it was thought, some great nest near, 
 and they took all this with them to feed their 
 nestlings. 
 
 But perhaps these people were quite wrong ; 
 for God, who has taught birds in general to feed 
 their young ones, has before now taught them 
 a different lesson. So it was at that time of 
 which we read in the Bible, when he taught 
 ravens to feed one of the Prophets. If any one 
 could have flown with them and seen all their 
 doings, it would have been a strange sight. 
 How they got the meat we do not know; but 
 
 i8
 
 THE RAVENS IN THE FAMINE 
 
 we know that any one who could have flown 
 with them would have seen that as soon as they 
 got it they flew straight away with it to another 
 country. Then they passed over a land where 
 everything was dry and burnt up for want of 
 rain. It had not rained for a whole year, and 
 all the brooks were dry. The little streams which 
 had leapt from stone to stone were drunk in by 
 the thirsty ground, and their murmuring voice 
 was no more heard ; the corn was parched up 
 and would not grow; the grass was dried and 
 withered ; the cattle had eaten it quite close 
 down to the dusty earth, and then had grown 
 thinner and thinner till they had died. Men's 
 faces had grown thin and sharp, and their eyes 
 looked hungrily out of their sunk cheeks ; and 
 their tongues were dry, and swelled with thirst; 
 and they walked about, here and there, looking 
 for food and for water, and they could not 
 find any. 
 
 "There was a great famine in that land." 
 Yes, there was a great famine. The people 
 of the land had sinned against God, and he had 
 bid " the clouds that they should rain no rain 
 upon it." And if you could have flown with 
 those ravens, you would have heard a great 
 voice of sadness, and sighing, and sorrow, rising 
 from all that land as they flew over it. 
 
 19 2 — 2
 
 THE RAVENS IN THE FAMINE 
 
 But where do you think the ravens were 
 flying to? They flew over all that land till they 
 came to a cave in the side of a high sandy hill ; 
 and if you could have looked into that cave you 
 would have seen, not a nest of young ravens, 
 but one man sitting, or standing, or kneeling by 
 the side of a little brook that rose high up in the 
 cave, and sunk just below in the thirsty land, so 
 that no one else knew of it. 
 
 Perhaps you might have seen this good man 
 kneeling down and lifting up his hands towards 
 the sky, and saying, "O Lord God, who hast 
 kept me hitherto, and ordered the wild ravens 
 to feed me, take Thou care of me this day, for 
 Thou art my God, and I am Thy servant." 
 
 And then the mouth of the cave was darkened 
 for a moment ; it was by the wings of the great 
 ravens, as they flew in and laid down the meat 
 and the bread before the good man's feet ; and 
 he would rise and gather a few dry sticks to 
 dress the meat at the cave's mouth, and drink 
 some of the clear spring water, and then kneel 
 down again to thank his God who had taught 
 the ravens to fly all over the starving country 
 to bring it to him in this lonely cave.
 
 Ill 
 
 THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON 
 
 [Acts xii I — 17] 
 
 There was a deep dungeon — its walls were 
 all green and stained with the damp which had 
 long hung on them ; its floor was made of cold 
 rough stones. It had one small window, across 
 which were thick iron bars, and it was so narrow 
 and so high up, that hardly any light came from 
 it to the floor. It was night, and all was quite 
 still and silent there : even in the day, no cheerful 
 sound came into that sad place ; not even a bird's 
 song was ever heard there ; scarcely even a fly 
 could ever be seen in it : but now it was night, 
 and dark, and silent, except when now and 
 then the moving of chains was heard on that 
 dungeon's floor. For a man was lying there 
 chained, by chains which went round his wrists. 
 But his chains made no noise now, for he was 
 lying still : he was asleep ; sleeping as quietly, 
 and breathing as gently, as if he were a child. 
 How could he be sleeping so gently? Did he 
 know where he was ? Yes, he well knew : and 
 
 21
 
 THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON 
 
 he knew too, that when the sun rose the next 
 morning, and woke so many persons all around 
 him to their daily work, or to their daily pleasures, 
 that it would see him led out of that prison to 
 be put to a cruel death ; for that the very next 
 morning he was to be killed. Then surely he 
 must have been some very wicked man ; for why 
 else should he be in that dungeon, and why else 
 should he be about to be killed? You would 
 the more have thought so if you could have 
 seen all ; for you would have seen that he was 
 chained to two soldiers, who lay on each side 
 of him, with their weapons ready to slay him if 
 he were to move. Fierce, evil-looking men they 
 were, of dark and savage faces ; they were 
 asleep, but even in their sleep they looked angry 
 and cruel. The gate of the dungeon too was 
 barred and locked, and there were four other 
 soldiers asleep outside it ; and beyond them 
 again was a great iron gate fast closed, so that 
 surely he must be a very wicked and desperate 
 man whom they are guarding with this strength 
 and care. And yet, if you could look into his 
 face, you would see him sleeping quietly and 
 calmly. A little child upon the knees of his 
 mother could hardly sleep more gently. And 
 could he sleep so if he were indeed a wicked 
 man? Could his conscience be asleep when he 
 
 22
 
 THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON 
 
 was thus deep in the dungeon, and death coming 
 so near to him ? No doubt he could not : no 
 doubt that his sleep could not have been what 
 it was, unless God had been with him there : 
 for he was a holy man, one who did indeed 
 love God, one who had followed Jesus Christ 
 when He lived upon this earth, and whom with 
 eleven others Jesus Christ had trusted to govern 
 His church, now that He had ascended into 
 heaven. He had been thrown into that dungeon 
 because he loved Jesus Christ, and believed in 
 Him, and would speak about Him among people 
 who hated Him ; and so their wicked king had 
 laid hold on him, and cast him into this dungeon, 
 and was about to put him to death the very next 
 day. He seemed now given over, for no one else 
 was to be seen in that dungeon but the poor man 
 in chains, and the fierce soldiers to whom he 
 was bound. But there was another there ; there 
 was one who watched over him ; who kept him 
 from all harm ; who gave him that sweet sleep ; 
 who heard when he prayed, and was ever ready 
 to help him — Jesus Christ was there. 
 
 There was in that town another room, not 
 a very large one, and yet there were many 
 persons in it. It was now late at night, but 
 still they stayed there. There were some men 
 and some women — what are they doing? They 
 
 23
 
 THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON 
 
 are praying to God, calling on the name of Jesus 
 Christ, begging Him to save His servant Peter, 
 and not to let him, like St James, be put to 
 death by Herod. They prayed very earnestly, and 
 no doubt their prayers were heard. Perhaps it is 
 as an answer to their prayers, that the chained 
 prisoner sleeps so peacefully; for he looks as if 
 some happy vision or dream came to him as he 
 slept. Perhaps he is dreaming of the time when 
 he was a boy, and went with his father upon the 
 lake of Gennesaret as a fisherman. 
 
 Perhaps he dreams of the first time he went ; 
 how pleased he was to go ; how the bright moon 
 shone, and the little waves rippled round the 
 boat, as it shot with its dark shadow through 
 the moonlight, and left a troubled path on 
 the waters where it had passed. Is that his 
 father's voice calling him? Is that the moon- 
 light round him? See, he starts in his sleep 
 and opens his eyes ; he looks like a man who 
 hardly knows whether he is well awake, or still 
 in a dream. What is the light around him ? 
 there was never moonlight in the dungeon, and 
 he is there, and not by the sea of Galilee. And 
 what is this light, brighter, and yet softer far 
 than any moonlight? It is so clear that he can 
 see every corner of the dungeon, and yet so 
 mild that it does not dazzle his eyes, which had 
 
 24
 
 THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON 
 
 been so long in the darkness. And what is that 
 voice which says to him, "Arise up, quickly," 
 as kind as his father's in his dream, and yet 
 a real sounding voice ? The soldiers too beside 
 him, why do they sleep on? He looks up, and 
 he sees a form he knows not. Is it one of God's 
 angels ? the light seems to beam from him : 
 either he must be a holy angel, or all this is 
 a beautiful dream. But he does as the voice 
 bids him ; he rises up, and the chains fall off 
 from his hands ; they clanked and rung as they 
 fell upon the ground, but the soldiers did not 
 stir : the hand of one of them was upon the hilt 
 of his sword ; in a moment surely it would be 
 drawn, and Peter slain : but no, the fierce man 
 slept on, and Peter bound on his sandals, and 
 followed the angel. He passed the first gate, 
 for it opened for them; the keepers lay around 
 it, but no man stirred, and it shut again behind 
 them. They came to the second ; it too is left 
 behind. Surely it must be a dream. But now 
 they stand before the iron gate ; its heavy weight 
 hangs always stiffly on its rusty hinges, and 
 many men can only just slowly and scarcely 
 force it open with a great creaking and noise. It 
 too opens of its own accord, and they pass through 
 it into the open air. It was a very pleasant 
 feeling; that first breath of the open summer 
 
 25
 
 THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON 
 
 night breeze upon Peter's forehead, which had 
 grown damp and cold in the dark wet dungeon. 
 Surely it must be more than a dream. He 
 looked round for the angel who brought him 
 forth, but he was gone — gone as he came, 
 unseen and unknown by man, save when God 
 would have him seen. Perhaps he stood near 
 him still, though he could be seen no longer. 
 Peter stands doubtful for a moment. Then all 
 the truth comes surely on his mind, and he 
 knew that "the Lord had sent His angel, and 
 delivered him out of the hands of Herod, and 
 from all the expectation of the people of the 
 Jews." And he went to that room where the 
 servants of the Lord were together praying, and 
 they would scarcely believe when they heard that 
 Peter was there. But he went in and told them 
 what great things the Lord had done for him ; 
 and he and they feared the Lord together, and 
 trusted in Him more and more. 
 
 26
 
 IV 
 
 THE CHILDREN AND THE LION 
 
 [i Peter v 8] 
 
 There was once a Father who had two 
 children whom he loved exceedingly. They were 
 a little girl and boy, and they were good and 
 obedient children. For many years, ever since 
 they were born, they had lived in the middle 
 of a great town, and had never seen the open 
 fields and the beautiful flowers, and birds, and 
 woods, except sometimes when their father took 
 them out in a carriage with him for an hour or 
 two ; and those were happy times. One day, 
 when the little girl was seven, and the boy nine 
 years old, their father called them to him, and 
 said to them, " My dear children, I am going to 
 take you away from this house in which you have 
 been used to live, and to take you into another 
 house where you will have a beautiful garden, in 
 which you can play about amongst the flowers, 
 and hear the birds sing all day long, and see 
 the bright butterflies which you have seen when 
 I have taken you out in the carriage." 
 
 How pleased the Httle boy and girl must 
 have been to go to such a beautiful house, from 
 the midst of the dark town where they had lived 
 before. 
 
 27
 
 THE CHILDREN AND THE LION 
 
 Yes, they were greatly pleased ; and when 
 the next day they came to this new house, and 
 looked out of its windows, and saw the green 
 grass looking fresh and bright, and gay butterflies 
 flying over it up and down, and the painted 
 feathers of all sorts of birds which flew in and 
 out of the bushes, or stayed to warble in the 
 thickets, they longed to run straight out of doors 
 and sing too, they were so happy, and thought 
 that they should never tire of gathering the 
 flowers, and playing with the bright yellow 
 gourds which they could see growing here and 
 there in the beds, and watching the birds and 
 butterflies. But just as they were running out, 
 their father called them to him with a very grave 
 face, so grave as to be almost sad, and said to 
 them, " My dearest children, before you go into 
 that beautiful garden, listen well to what I am 
 going to tell you. In that garden there is a fierce 
 and hungry Hon, who is always walking up and 
 down it, to find some one to devour. There 
 are reasons, which you cannot understand, why 
 I cannot turn this lion out ; and why, much as 
 I love you, I have yet brought you to live in this 
 garden, near such a savage beast ; but if you 
 will remember my words, he can never hurt you. 
 What you must do is this : keep in mind that 
 he is ever near you, that he is waiting to spring 
 
 28
 
 THE CHILDREN AND THE LION 
 
 on you ; and when the sun is the brightest, and 
 the birds the gayest, and all is most beautiful 
 around you, and you are the happiest yourselves, 
 then think that he is near you, and watch 
 carefully lest he should spring on you unseen ; 
 for if, when you see him, you call on me to help 
 you, you will find me always near you, and he 
 will fly away from you. Do not stay to think 
 how I can hear you when you do not see me, 
 but call at once on me, and I shall be always 
 by your side, and you will be safe. But if in 
 your play you cease to watch for the lion, and 
 so are not ready to call on me, he will creep 
 close to you when you least expect it, and spring 
 on you and devour you." 
 
 The children looked very grave and thought- 
 ful ; each took the other's hand, and they walked 
 quite sadly down into the garden, trembling and 
 afraid, as though thinking that at every turn the 
 great lion would spring out upon them. But they 
 saw nothing of him ; and as the birds hopped 
 round them, and the gay butterflies floated up 
 and down in the air, and the sun sparkled in 
 the stream that ran amongst the flowers, they 
 began to forget that there was such a thing as 
 a lion in the world ; and soon they were playing 
 and laughing as merrily and loud as if they 
 had never heard that he was near them. But 
 
 29
 
 THE CHILDREN AND THE LION 
 
 just when they were the gayest, they heard 
 their father's voice, saying, sadly and seriously, 
 '''' Remember P^ They started and looked round, 
 but they could not see him : the voice seemed to 
 come from the air ; but the little girl thought 
 directly of the lion ; and as she looked into the 
 bushes, which were quite white with their bright 
 blossoms, she saw something creeping softly 
 towards her, and in a moment her eyes were 
 fixed on the fierce fiery eyes of the savage lion. 
 She had hardly breath left to call upon her 
 father, but at the first call he stood by her side ; 
 and she could see the lion turn from her, and 
 spring away and hide himself in the thicket. 
 Her father took her in his arms, and told her 
 not to fear, for that she was quite safe in his 
 keeping; and he bid her remember, that if she 
 had not watched, and seen the lion, and called 
 on His name, the evil beast would have sprung 
 upon her, and she would have been his prey. 
 
 Day after day passed away, and the children 
 became more and more watchful, and even in 
 their sport and play they were sober and mindful 
 of the lion ; and when he was stealing near to 
 them, they called always on their father, and he 
 ever stood beside them, and saved them from 
 his fangs. 
 
 30
 
 V 
 
 THE STORM AT SEA 
 [Jonah i, ii] 
 
 A LARGE ship lay near the shore ; she was 
 waiting for the wind; for all her cargo was on 
 board. The sea, which had been long as calm 
 as a great looking-glass, began to be ruffled 
 over here and there as the flaws of wind fell 
 upon it, and the little waves began to rise upon 
 it, looking very bright where the sun fell upon 
 their sparkling tops, and quite black and dark 
 where they curled away from his shining ; and 
 as they followed one another on to the pier, they 
 broke against and ran up it, throwing up a little 
 salt spray, through which the sun shone in many 
 colours like a rainbow. 
 
 When the wind began to rise, every one was 
 busy on board the ship. The sailors were running 
 about, pulling the ropes, and shaking out the sails, 
 and drawing up the anchor ; and the captain was 
 walking here and there, and seeming to think 
 that they could never work hard enough, or get 
 the ship quick enough ready to sail out to sea 
 whilst the pleasant breeze lasted. However, the 
 sailors laboured, and all was just ready, when 
 a man came down to the sea-shore and jumped 
 
 31
 
 THE STORM AT SEA 
 
 into a boat which lay there, and called to the 
 sailors near to row him out to the ship, before 
 she should sail away. He had but just time to 
 reach her: he got alongside just as she began 
 to cut the water with her keel, and he begged 
 the captain to take him on board, and he would 
 pay for his passage. After a few words it was 
 settled between them ; the boat pulled back to 
 the shore, and the stranger was standing on the 
 deck of the vessel, watching the windows and 
 the people and the houses, as they grew less 
 and less every moment, until they could scarcely 
 be seen the one from the other. 
 
 There were many things to do as the ship 
 sailed on, and the captain and the sailors had 
 not much time to look about them, or they would 
 have wondered whom they had got on board. 
 He was dressed in rough hairy clothes, and did 
 not look like a merchant, or a sailor, or a soldier. 
 He did not seem a rich or great man ; and 
 yet if you looked near into his face, there was 
 something in it which made you look again and 
 again. He seemed very full of thoughts ; and 
 these many thoughts had made many deep 
 furrows in his face, and when he was pleased, 
 as he was when he found that he had caught 
 the ship, his face was lighted up with a very 
 great joyfulness. But altogether he seemed very 
 
 32
 
 THE STORM AT SEA 
 
 sad now. He hardly spoke to any one, and he 
 looked often out into the air and the sky, as if 
 he saw strange things there, which were seen by 
 no one beside. When any one spoke suddenly 
 near him, he gave a great start, and seemed half 
 ready to answer, as if he were expecting some 
 one to call him. However, he was not much 
 noticed, for every one was busy except himself, 
 and had little time for looking at him. The 
 sailors indeed would shrug their shoulders some- 
 times, and whisper to one another when he was 
 amongst them ; but for the most part he went 
 on his way and they on theirs, and they said 
 little to each other. 
 
 For the first day the breeze favoured them, 
 and they were getting well on with their voyage. 
 The sun rose clear the next day, and the pleasant 
 breeze held up. The anxious face of the captain 
 grew smoother, and he had a friendly word for 
 the sailors when they came near him. Every 
 one was busy in their work. You might see him 
 walking, as sailors do, up and down the deck, 
 talking to the chief of his crew under him. 
 Perhaps they were talking about the cargo he 
 had got on board, and what would be the state 
 of the market at Tarshish, and how much he 
 should make by the wheat and the fine cloth 
 he had got on board ; and whether he should 
 
 33
 
 THE STORM AT SEA 
 
 find plenty of "gold and silver, and ivory and 
 apes" at Tarshish, which he could bring back 
 again in his ship to Joppa. Perhaps they 
 talked about the strange man who had come on 
 board, and what could be his business. " He 
 paid his fare, but he does not seem like a 
 merchant ; and he eats little and speaks to no 
 one; and all last night the sailors say he never 
 slept, but seemed like a man in whom some spirit 
 dwelt." So perhaps they talked, as the ship cut 
 gaily through the waters, bounding like a spirited 
 horse over the tossing waves. 
 
 But when the sun was past the middle of the 
 sky, and he began to sink towards the sea, a belt 
 of thick clouds might be seen stretching along 
 to the eastward. If a man watched them closely, 
 he might see that they were creeping up the sky. 
 You might see that they would soon be up with 
 you, — those sky-travellers. And so they were ; 
 another hour spread them all over the heaven, 
 and now the sun was getting near the sea ; and 
 the light was growing dim and grey. 
 
 " We shall have but an ugly night of it, from 
 the look of the sea and sky," was the captain's 
 judgment, and nobody thought him wrong. 
 Already the wind was sighing over the sea, and 
 whisthng among the cords : and hark ! what 
 crack of the sail was that.^ "We shall not long 
 
 34
 
 THE STORM AT SEA 
 
 be able to carry any sail at all." They were 
 right ; the wind grew into a storm, the storm 
 grew into a hurricane : it was a fearful night ; 
 black and rough and roaring was the sea, and 
 the poor ship strained and tossed as she drove 
 along before the wind, like a bubble on the 
 wave-top. At last the grey light of the morning 
 began to give a leaden colour to the sky and 
 the waves, but no help came with it. The wind 
 only got higher and higher, and the waves tossed 
 more and more fearfully, till they thought the 
 ship would be broken by their force. 
 
 Then the captain bid the sailors bring up the 
 costly merchandise of which he had hoped to 
 make so good a sale, and throw it into the sea 
 to lighten the ship, for "we had better lose it," 
 he said, "than be all sunk together." So they 
 brought it up, beautiful ears of wheat from 
 Judcca, and bales of fine cloth of blue from Tyre, 
 and they threw them into the sea, and the wild 
 waves tossed them up as if they were playing 
 with them, and then yawned, opened, and sucked 
 them in, and they saw them no more. But still 
 the storm did not abate, and they thought that 
 soon the ship must go to pieces. 
 
 Now the captain and his men were heathen 
 people, and did not know the true God ; so they 
 said in their heathen way, that they wondered 
 
 35
 
 THE STORM AT SEA 
 
 which of the gods had sent this storm : for they 
 thought that there were many gods; and they 
 began to pray every man to the god whom 
 they most fancied. Then said one of the sailors, 
 " Where is the strange passenger in the rough 
 garments, and why is not he praying with us?" 
 So they sought for him, and they found him down 
 below fast asleep ; so worn out by watching, that 
 he had fallen asleep at last, and slept all through 
 that fierce night-storm which had kept all the 
 rest so busy and so full of fear. 
 
 It was a strange sight to see how the man 
 awoke : how he started and looked around him, 
 and seemed more moved than any, as soon as 
 he was woke from that sound sleep. Then they 
 all prayed unto their gods, and the stranger 
 prayed by himself No one heard his prayers, 
 but it seemed that he was very earnest. Yet still 
 the storm ceased not, but it tossed and roared 
 worse and worse. 
 
 The captain's voice was then heard, and he 
 said, " We must cast lots and see for whose sake 
 this dreadful storm has come upon us." So they 
 made lots, and began to cast them as best they 
 could, in such a troubled state. And now all 
 men marked the stranger, for his knees smote 
 together, and his face was pale, and his eyes 
 were fixed in the air, as if there sat always 
 
 36
 
 THE STORM AT SEA 
 
 before them some terrible thing which no one 
 else beheld. Soon the lots were given out, and 
 the strange man was taken. Then said the 
 captain to him, " Tell us who thou art, from what 
 country, and of what business, and what doing of 
 thine has brought this trouble upon us?" 
 
 Then was it wonderful to look upon that man, 
 for he who had been so terrified, and like a man 
 haunted by fearful sights, became all at once 
 quite calm, and he said in a deep strong voice 
 which all the people could hear even over the 
 roaring of the sea, " I am an Hebrew, and 
 I serve the God of heaven, which hath made 
 the sea and the dry land." Then he told them 
 too why he had come with them, that he was 
 a prophet of this true and only God, and that 
 God had sent him on a work which he was not 
 willing to do, and that he had been so mad as 
 to think that he could fly from God, by crossing 
 over the sea; but that he had found he never 
 could fly from God : that in the calm God had 
 been with him, by night in the ship's sides, by 
 day on the deep. When the sun rose red in the 
 morning, when it burnt bright at noon, when it 
 set in the sullen sea at night, ever God was with 
 him, and he could not fly from His presence; 
 and now, that He had sent this storm, he doubted 
 not, as His messenger of wrath. 
 
 >7
 
 THE STORM AT SEA 
 
 Then the men looked upon him with fear: 
 and they asked him how he could have brought 
 this trouble on them by his sin, and what they 
 were to do with him. 
 
 Then he spoke again as calmly and as quietly 
 as before, and he told them to take him up and 
 cast him into the boiling sea. The sailors looked 
 at him and trembled ; and they did not dare to 
 do it : so they rowed with great oars, and tried 
 to guide and save the ship ; but it could not be. 
 The waves only grew larger and larger, and the 
 wind higher and higher; and still the strange 
 prophet said to them, " If you would have the 
 sea become calm, cast me into its floods." Then 
 at last the men thought they must do according 
 to his word. So they prayed to God not to hold 
 them guilty of this stranger's blood, if according 
 to his own command they cast him forth into 
 the sea. 
 
 Then they laid hold on him. It was strange 
 to see him, who while he was flying from God 
 was frightened at the very air, and started at 
 every sound, now calm, and quiet, and fearless, 
 though he was about to be cast into that terrible 
 boiling sea. But now he was not afraid, because 
 he dared look up again to his God. 
 
 So they cast him into the sea, and its great 
 waves closed over him, and they saw him no 
 
 38
 
 THE STORM AT SEA 
 
 more ; and the sea became calm, and the vessel 
 righted and went on her way peacefully. 
 
 But God had prepared a great fish which 
 swam under those fearful waves, and when the 
 prophet sunk under the waters, the fish swallowed 
 him down. There was the prophet alive within 
 the fish, who dived down to the bottom of the 
 great sea and swam through all its storms, diving 
 down lower than the roots of the mountains, 
 amongst thick forests of sea-weeds, green, and red, 
 and blue, which man's eyes never saw or shall see. 
 
 Then the prophet prayed unto his God. It 
 was a strange place for prayer to come from ; but 
 faithful prayer can pass to God from anywhere ; 
 and from the fish's belly at the bottom of the 
 deep sea, Jonah's prayer rose up to God on high. 
 Then God commanded the fish, and he swam 
 towards the shore of Jonah's country, and cast 
 Jonah upon the shore. Strange and wonderful 
 must have been his feelings when he stood once 
 more upon the land ; felt it firm under his feet, 
 and looked out upon trees, and rocks, and houses, 
 and faces which he had known before ; for he 
 was like a man who had come back to them from 
 the grave and death. But one lesson surely he 
 had learned, and that was, that man could not 
 fly from God ; for that earth, and sea, and air 
 were full of Him, and did His bidding alway. 
 
 39
 
 VI 
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 [St Matthew vii 13, 14] 
 
 I HAD been reading in the New Testament 
 before I fell asleep, and the words I had read 
 came back again to me in a dream. 
 
 I thought I stood upon the edge of a wide 
 common, and that from every side people were 
 crossing the common by many different paths, 
 to a place where they all met just by my right 
 hand. There were already a great number of 
 people there when I first looked, and more and 
 more kept coming there continually. They were 
 of all sorts and ages, rich and poor, young and 
 old, sickly and strong ; and I wondered, in 
 my dream, what it was that brought them all 
 together there. 
 
 Then I thought that I walked into the middle 
 of the crowd, to see what they were about, 
 and there I soon found what they were doing. 
 I found that all the paths in which they had 
 been walking, ended here in two different gates, 
 and they were all doubting into which of these 
 
 40
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 two gates they should enter; — so I looked at the 
 gates with the rest, and cast my eyes down the 
 paths which lay beyond them. 
 
 A great many people were going in at the 
 first gate at which I looked, and I could not 
 wonder that they were. It stood wide open, and 
 seemed to bid all who chose to pass through it. 
 And then the path upon which it opened looked 
 as gay and pleasant as a path could look. There 
 was a bright gravel walk for those who liked it, 
 running between beds of beautiful flowers ; and 
 a little on one side there was a smooth grass 
 walk which ran amongst fine spreading trees, 
 from whose green branches I thought every bird 
 of the air was singing. There were benches 
 placed here and there under those trees, where 
 every one could sit when he was tired, and rich 
 ripe fruits seemed to grow close by for them to 
 eat, and cool streams of water ran sparkling by, 
 so that no one need be thirsty who could stoop 
 down and drink. Then every one at first sight 
 looked so cheerful and happy along the way. 
 There were men and women singing and dancing, 
 and there were children gathering flowers, and 
 bright birds with silver feathers and golden eyes 
 flew round and round; and the trees were all 
 in flower, so that the air was quite scented 
 with their smell, and bees hummed amongst the 
 
 41
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 flowers, and the sun shone, and the rivulets 
 danced, and all seemed alive and happy. I could 
 not wonder for a moment that so many turned 
 down this way. 
 
 Then I looked at the other gate, it was as 
 narrow as the other was wide. It seemed indeed 
 hardly wide enough to let any one pass, and so 
 many found it. For I saw several who walked 
 boldly up to it and began to push in at it, but 
 it caught the clothes of one, and the flesh of 
 another, and the bundle of a third, and they 
 could not get through. I saw too sometimes 
 a mother with a child in her arms, and it seemed 
 she could not get through because of this child ; 
 and sometimes a father would hold a son's hand 
 so fast, that neither could get in. What made this 
 the stranger was, that in spite of its narrowness, 
 every one was able to push in who tried with all 
 their might. There were some very large people 
 who pressed in, whilst others who were only half 
 their size were kept out. Sometimes a mother, 
 after much study, would be wilHng to let go her 
 child rather than be kept without, and then it 
 seemed to widen for them both, and they got in 
 together. In a word, it seemed wide enough to 
 let the largest in with a struggle, and too narrow 
 to let any in without ; though children got in 
 the easiest, and those who had fewest things 
 
 42
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 to carry with them. Few bundles, indeed, were 
 got in at all. 
 
 Nor were the troubles over when they had got 
 by ; the path was almost as narrow as the gate. 
 
 Instead of the smooth walks, and gay flowers, 
 and the bright sunshine of the other road, here 
 the way was rough, and the tearing thorns grew 
 very close to each side of the path ; and there 
 were many places in which it seemed to get 
 altogether dark, so that no one would be able 
 to keep clear of the thorns on one side or the 
 other. 
 
 When I saw all this, I wondered that any 
 should try to enter into it, instead of all hurrying 
 together down the gay and easy road. 
 
 But as I cast up my eyes, in my surprise 
 I saw that there was a motto written over each, 
 and I hastened to read them. That over the 
 gate I was looking at said thus : 
 
 The narrow path and thorny way 
 Leads pilgrims to eternal day. 
 
 And then casting my eyes upon the other, 
 I read — 
 
 This flowery way which men desire, 
 Must end in everlasting fire. 
 
 Now when I had read these two mottoes, as 
 I knew that the King v.'ho had put them up was 
 
 43
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 truth itself, I began to wonder how any could 
 dare to go along the broad and easy way, though 
 it did look so tempting ; and I stopped to watch 
 how it was that any dared to do so. 
 
 The first I saw was a fine high-spirited young 
 lad, who, when I first looked at him, was still 
 holding his father's hand. The old man looked 
 somewhat sad, and I could see that he was 
 struggling hard to get himself and his son up 
 to the narrow gate. Just then there came by a 
 party of merry young people, and they stretched 
 out their gay hands to the poor boy, and looked 
 into his face with their laughing eyes, and he 
 slipped away from his father, and made with 
 them towards the broad way. Just before he 
 turned in, he looked round and said to his 
 father, " I shall only go a little way with them, 
 just to see what it is Hke, and then I shall 
 turn back and follow you"; and then he passed 
 into the green walk, and I could see him for 
 a long way laughing and merry : but he never 
 seemed to turn round again, and I never saw 
 him come back. 
 
 And as I looked, I saw many more turning 
 in the same way; some because they could not 
 get a bag of money through the narrow way, 
 and could not bear to leave it ; some because 
 they were afraid of tearing their fine clothes in 
 
 44
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 squeezing through ; some because it looked so 
 dreary all down the narrow way, and they longed 
 to gather the flowers and the fruits with which 
 the broad way was full ; some from mere thought- 
 lessness, and some because those who were round 
 them began to jeer at them as soon as they 
 turned their eyes towards the narrow gate. 
 Some, too, I saw who went in at the broad 
 gate, because, after walking a little way in the 
 narrow road, they had got torn by the thorns 
 which grew beside it. These seemed the saddest 
 of any : they were always persuading every one 
 to go in at the wide gate. "Trust us," they 
 would say, showing the scratches upon their 
 hands and cheeks, "trust us and be warned, 
 for the path gets narrower and narrower, and 
 darker and darker ; and if you are fools enough 
 to enter, you will soon wish yourselves out as 
 we did." 
 
 Now hearing this said by one and another 
 made me look a little closer at this narrow way. 
 Then I saw that those who set out on it found 
 mostly a few paces of easy walking just when 
 they had squeezed through, and then that the 
 path did get very narrow. 
 
 I heard one and another groan when the 
 thorns tore his flesh, and there was hardly any 
 one whom they did not tear sometimes. Those 
 
 45
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 who got in young, as they passed the most easily 
 through the gate, so they seemed to be getting 
 on the best now they were in, and generally 
 I could see that they who pressed on most 
 earnestly found the way the easiest, and got the 
 fewest rubs. But if any one began to loiter or 
 to look back, he was in the thorns in a moment ; 
 and once in, no one could tell when they would 
 get clear; for first they were torn on this side, 
 and then on that ; and even when they did get 
 clear, they always seemed to enter on one of 
 those dark places of the road through which they 
 went sighing, and groaning, and stumbling, like 
 men in a sore trouble and distress. 
 
 Many were so frightened by all this, that 
 they turned straight back, and fled towards the 
 narrow wicket, which then opened wide, and let 
 them out too easily. 
 
 Now I had a great curiosity to see how these 
 roads went on ; and as I watched the walk in 
 the narrow road, I saw first that those who got 
 on quickly were often looking down to a book 
 which they held in their hands, and then again 
 looking up, as if to the heaven over their head. 
 When first I saw one of them look down, I 
 thought he would surely miss the track, and be 
 in a moment in the thorns ; but instead of this, 
 it seemed as if he thus kept on straighter and 
 
 46
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 quicker than ever : while I was musing upon this, 
 I heard one of them read out of his book, " Thy 
 word is a light unto my feet, and a lamp unto 
 my path." And another seemed to answer him 
 at the moment by reading out — "Through Thy 
 commandments I get understanding, therefore 
 I hate every evil way." I saw, too, that instead 
 of the way getting narrower, and more rough 
 and thorny, it grew always easier, and smoother, 
 and broader. To those who had come in young, 
 it was very soon plain and pleasant ; and though 
 to the others it was longer rough, and they came 
 here and there to a fresh set of thorns, yet it 
 was plain that they got along much more easily 
 than they had done. Some who had been always 
 in the thorns on the one side or the other, were 
 now walking steadily along ; and some seemed 
 almost flying, they moved so quickly by, and so 
 easily. Flowers, too, began to blossom round 
 them ; the thorns turned often into sweet bunches 
 of roses and woodbine ; clusters, too, of ripe 
 grapes, of which they eat just enough to refresh 
 their lips, hung here and there in their way ; and 
 the birds began to sing sweetly to them. 
 
 No one now talked of turning back, but busy 
 as they seemed in pressing on, I thought they 
 looked already happy ; some, indeed, were joyous, 
 and all were cheerful ; and I overheard one and 
 
 47
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 another sing cheerily, " Her ways are ways of 
 pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." 
 
 And now I could see, but a little way before 
 them, a bright and cheerful light which shone 
 upon their road. As one and another entered 
 into it, I lost sight of them : but I could hear 
 by their last words which reached me, that they 
 were then happier than ever. Some were singing 
 holy songs, as if to the sound of harps and 
 music of all kinds ; some were nearly silent, but 
 the little they did sing came from hearts full 
 of joy ; and I doubted not that what I could not 
 see beyond, was even happier and better than 
 that I had seen. 
 
 I could scarcely bear to turn away my eyes 
 from these happy people, to look at those who 
 had chosen the other path: and when I did so, 
 I was soon full of sorrow. For when I came 
 to look more closely, I saw that even at the 
 first, where they looked the merriest, there was 
 hardly one amongst them who was thoroughly 
 happy. The mirth, too, which they had, died 
 away as they went further. If one stooped to 
 gather the fruit or the flowers, they faded away 
 as soon as he had them in his hand, or turned 
 into dust and ashes as soon as they reached his 
 lips. The saddest of all were those who had 
 once set out along the other roadj they were 
 
 48
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 ever turning round as if something affrighted 
 them, or else pushing on madly as if they were 
 running away from thought ; and I could see, 
 on looking closely, that the thorns still stuck in 
 them and festered, and pricked them afresh at 
 almost every turn. But though these were the 
 saddest, yet as they went on all grew sad. 
 Gloom and darkness came over those faces 
 which had been the merriest. They were also 
 ever falling out with one another, and so making 
 matters worse. 
 
 When I saw them all so sad, I wondered 
 that none thought of turning back and trying 
 the other road. I soon found out a cause for 
 this ; for just as I was looking, I saw one try to 
 turn ; and lo, though he had been walking well 
 and easily the other way, now I saw that he 
 could scarcely stand. His feet slipped, his knees 
 trembled, and he seemed all at once as weak as 
 a young child : soon he slipped quite down ; and 
 as he lay bruised and groaning on the ground, 
 those round him mocked and jeered at him ! 
 and I thought he would have risen no more — 
 when, lifting his eyes up to heaven, he seemed 
 to call for help, and then just scrambling up on 
 his hands and knees, he got a few steps further, 
 only to fall again, and groan again for help. 
 At last, however, his feet steadied, and I saw 
 
 M. 49 4
 
 THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM 
 
 him after many hard struggles reach the gate 
 and push through it in spite of the crowd of 
 people, who were thronging in and would scarce 
 let him pass ; and he fled to the narrow gate and 
 pressed through it, and went on along the path, 
 though its thorns seemed to tear him at every 
 step, and the way was darker than I had ever seen 
 it yet : but still he pressed on like a man flying 
 for his life ; and I never took my eyes off him 
 till at last he got into the easier and lightsome 
 stage of his new journey. 
 
 But for the rest who did not turn, it was 
 a heart-breaking thing to look at them. For 
 sooner or later they all got into a thick black 
 darkness, which was now spread all over what 
 had once been their gay and cheerful road ; and 
 then I could see that they were parted from their 
 friends, though they were most afraid of being 
 alone ; and then I knew that some worse thing 
 befel them; for though I saw them not, I heard 
 their cries and screams. They were exceeding 
 loud and bitter, but they brought them no help, 
 for they cried when there was none to hear ; but 
 they were so loud and bitter that I thought 
 I could not bear to hear them; and so in my 
 trouble I woke, and behold it was a dream. 
 
 50
 
 VII 
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 In a fresh and beautiful garden, full of every 
 gay and sweet-smelling flower, I saw a merry 
 party at play. Four boys made up the group ; 
 they were all of nearly the same size and age, 
 and their hght hearts laughed in their glad eyes, 
 as they ran here and there in their sports and 
 frohcs. The very birds in the trees over them 
 scarcely seemed happier than they — now chasing 
 one another amongst the shrubs — now following 
 some gay butterfly which floated by them on its 
 blue and golden wings — now sitting by a mur- 
 muring stream which ran through the bottom of 
 the garden, or refreshing themselves with wood 
 strawberries, whose ripe red berries shone upon 
 its banks. 
 
 Whilst I was watching their sports, delighted 
 with their gaiety, I saw the figure of a man 
 coming to them from amongst the trees which 
 bordered the garden. He went and sat down 
 in the shade, called the boys round him, and 
 began to speak to them. There was something 
 most kind and tender in this man's face and 
 
 51 4—2
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 voice, grave though it was ; and as he spoke, 
 I could see that one or two of the boys looked 
 very steadily at him, as if they wanted to catch 
 every word that he said. None of them seemed 
 careless, but one looked as if his spirit would 
 come out through his eyes, so did he fix them 
 on that grave kind face. 
 
 Then I thought that I drew near to the 
 group, for they were not disturbed by my coming, 
 and I listened to the words which were spoken 
 to the boys. 
 
 "This," I hear the man saying as I came 
 near, " this is the garden I have told you of. 
 It is, as you see, a very gay pretty place, and 
 one that you boys can be very happy in for 
 a few hours' play. But it is not a place that you 
 can stay in. All its pleasant sights would soon 
 turn into terrors. The flowers would wither 
 round you : one by one the birds would cease to 
 sing. Your happy spirits would go — you would 
 try to keep up your play, but it would grow into 
 a business — all the sweet fruits would become 
 bitter to your taste — the water of the stream 
 would lose its freshness — you would alter too — 
 and then, as you lost your pleasure in play, you 
 would begin to tease one another and be un- 
 happy : and then, worst of all, when the sun 
 began to set, you would hear the roaring of 
 
 52
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 many wild beasts all around you ; as it grew 
 darker you would see their fierce eyes glaring 
 out of the bushes, from which now the sweet 
 birds sing to you ; and whilst you were trembling 
 with fear, some of them would spring upon you 
 and devour you. 
 
 " So that though this is a beautiful garden 
 for an hour's play in the morning, it is not your 
 home, and you must not try to make it so. 
 Your home, as I have told you, is not very far 
 before you. Between this garden and it there 
 lies a waste and dreary-looking space, with some 
 steep hills to climb ; some hot places to pass ; 
 some slippery ways to walk over ; but there is 
 nothing to harm you if you follow my directions. 
 I have myself passed over it, and you may trace 
 my footmarks all along the way — the deepest 
 always, and the plainest, where there is any 
 trouble or danger : and when you have passed 
 this plain and reached your home, then you may 
 indeed be happy. For there are gardens sweeter 
 far than this : there the birds make a never- 
 ceasing music : there darkness never puts out 
 the light : there are no evil beasts to harm you : 
 there none are ever tired : but you shall always 
 be happy ; for all that are there love one another, 
 and have all given to them that their hearts 
 can desire." 
 
 53
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 Then I saw that the eyes of the little boy 
 who was listening so eagerly, sparkled brighter 
 than ever, and a sweet smile came over his 
 countenance, as he thought of that happy place. 
 Then a happy grave look followed the smile, and 
 I heard him say to the man, as tears filled his 
 eyes, " And shall I see in that beautiful garden, 
 my father, and my mother, and my sister, who 
 are gone before me?" "Yes," said the man, 
 looking kindly into the child's face, " if you reach 
 that garden safely, there you will see them again, 
 and nothing can ever part you more." 
 
 "But now," he went on, "hear how you are 
 to reach it: first, take care and lose no time in 
 setting out for it. Though this garden is beautiful 
 and sweet, and the way you have to go is barren 
 and steep, yet do not stay here, but set out at 
 once. It is much easier to pass that road in the 
 early morning. Even if you wait to the middle 
 of the day it will grow harder, for then the sun 
 will be hot, and the fresh dew will have dried off 
 the green grass, and the hills will seem steeper 
 to climb, and then perhaps you will grow weary, 
 and halt till evening, and then it is dangerous ; 
 and the storms may gather, and the brooks you 
 have to cross may swell; and if night should 
 overtake you, you are lost. Then you would 
 surely lose the foot-track, and either the miry 
 
 54
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 places would swallow you up, or the fierce beasts 
 that haunt that country would break out upon 
 you, and you would certainly be devoured by 
 some of them. 
 
 " This, then, is my first direction : Set out 
 at once, for the road is surest and safest in the 
 morning ; and for the next, here are two gifts to 
 help you on your journey. Here is a reed-flute ; 
 it is a small thing to look at, but do not despise 
 it, for it will be of great help to you. If you see 
 any of the wild beasts of the plain prowling 
 about, and sometimes they will venture out even 
 in the day, play a few notes upon it, and they 
 will surely leave you ; or if you doubt about your 
 way, play upon it, and the foot-track will come 
 out again clear before your eyes ; or if you are so 
 weary that you are ready to forget the beautiful 
 garden and rest at the end, play upon this, and 
 the thought of the end will come fresh again 
 upon your mind, and make you able to bear 
 the toil." So he gave each one of them a httle 
 reed-flute, which he called " Prayer," and showed 
 them how to play upon it. Now they were com- 
 mon-looking flutes, but when they were touched 
 by the breath, methought the music they sent 
 forth was most sweet and piercing. When the 
 little Agape ^ especially (for that was the name 
 ^ " Agape" means " love." 
 
 55
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 of the boy who had asked whether he should see 
 his father and his mother in the garden) — when 
 Agape put his to his Hps, it sent out notes 
 sweeter than the nightingale's. Then the man 
 gave them each a small bottle full of what looked 
 like the clearest water, and he said, " If you are 
 at any time greatly weary with the way, take out 
 this bottle and drink a few drops of its living 
 water, and you will again be fresh and hearty. 
 And now," he said, " farewell : I shall meet 
 again in the happy garden all those who get 
 there safely"; and so saying, he rose up, and 
 walked slowly away from them until he was lost 
 among the shadow of the trees from which he 
 had come out. 
 
 Then I saw the little boys sit still for a while, 
 as if they were thinking over the words that he 
 had spoken ; their echo seemed still to be speak- 
 ing to them in the silence, and no one hked to 
 be the first to disturb it. At last one of them, 
 named Edone\ began : "Well, what do you say.^* 
 of course we must all get away from this place 
 before long, but I should like to have a little 
 more play in it first." 
 
 "So should I," said Argia^, "and to sit a 
 little longer on this hill, and eat a few more 
 
 ^ " Pleasure." - " Indolence." 
 
 56
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 of these refreshing strawberries before we set 
 out on the long tiring journey. What say you, 
 Astathesi?" 
 
 " I hardly know what to say ; you see, we were 
 so much advised to set out directly." 
 
 " Yes," added Edone ; " I do not mean to be 
 late, but there can be no use in being in such 
 a great hurry. It is quite morning now ; if we 
 were to play for another hour, and then rest 
 a little, we should still be early ; and I do not 
 believe the sun vi'ill be any hotter then, and 
 perhaps it will cloud over, or the wind will get 
 up, and then, you know, it will be cooler instead 
 of hotter." 
 
 "So it may, indeed," replied Astathes, "and 
 I do not know why we should be in a hurry ; but 
 what do you say, Agape.?" 
 
 " That I mean to set out directly ; and so 
 I hope you will too. Think how happy we should 
 be to get to that beautiful home early ; and 
 then, remember how we were told, more than 
 once, that the earlier we set out, the easier it 
 would be to us to travel ; and I should have 
 no pleasure in playing here, for thinking that 
 the time was getting on, and that I had all my 
 journey to go." 
 
 " I believe you are right," said Astathes ; " so 
 1 "Waverer." 
 
 57
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 if you are for setting out directly, I think I shall 
 go with you." 
 
 "Well, then," said the other, "let us be off 
 directly, for every minute seems long to me now." 
 So he took his reed-flute, and hung his clear 
 bottle at his side, and set out, and Astathes with 
 him, for the side of the garden towards the plain. 
 Then Edone and Argia began to laugh at them, 
 and say, " What a hurry you are in ; we shall be 
 there as soon as you, and have all the pleasure 
 of playing here too." 
 
 Then Astathes halted a little, and seemed 
 ready to sit down again ; but Agap^ took him by 
 the hand, and away they began to walk. But 
 Edone grew angry at their going, and changed 
 from laughing to scolding ; and then seeing they 
 minded not that either, he took up stones, and 
 began to throw at them. Astathes was for 
 stopping again to speak with him, but Agape 
 took his hand again, and said, " See, the sun 
 is getting high over the hills even now; let us 
 push on, soon we shall be out of the reach of 
 his stones." But seeing Astathes still frightened, 
 he said, "Let us try if the flute will help us"; 
 so he played two or three notes of sweet music, 
 and it seemed that, directly, they had got out of 
 reach of the stones, and heard no more of the 
 bad language which had troubled them. 
 
 58
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 So they walked on together, and began talk- 
 ing as little boys might talk. " Oh, Agap^," said 
 Astathes, " I wonder how long the journey will 
 take us ! I long to get safely to its end." 
 
 " I hardly dare think yet of its end," said the 
 other, "for we have only just set out ; but I, too, 
 long to get to the end." 
 
 " What a fine place that garden must be !" 
 
 "Yes, and there I shall see again my father 
 and mother, and the kind sister who used to 
 nurse me when I was little ; and there we shall 
 see the king of the country, who is kind to 
 children, and loves to have them come and live 
 with him." 
 
 So they talked, and now they had come nearly 
 to the waste, and first looked out into it. 
 
 " It looks very dreary and rough, Agape," 
 said he. 
 
 " Oh ! never mind its looking rough ; I can 
 see already a pathway through the thorns which 
 frighten you." 
 
 " Well, if you were not with me, I think even 
 now I should turn back." 
 
 " Never speak of turning back," said Agap^, 
 and just then he reached the last stile which 
 parted the garden from the waste. Lightly he 
 sprang over it, and was setting out on the waste 
 without thinking of looking behind, when he 
 
 59
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 heard the voice of Astathes, who had not yet 
 crossed the stile. 
 
 "Wait a minute, Agape; I want to gather 
 some of this fruit to take with us ; we shall have 
 none, I can see, on the waste." 
 
 " No, no, dear Astathes, do not stop for the 
 fruit ; we shall find what we want on the way." 
 
 " But it looks so very barren." 
 
 " See, here is a good path ; do not stop any 
 longer, or I must go without you." 
 
 " Well, I will only gather a few more bunches 
 of this fruit, and then I shall overtake you." 
 
 Agape walked on a little, and then hearing 
 Astathes call, he stopped again to speak to him. 
 
 " Why, how fast you get on ! I am afraid 
 I shall never keep up with you. I think I shall 
 just stop behind, and come after you with Argia 
 and Edon^ ; you know they are only staying 
 a little behind." 
 
 Once more Agape begged him to come, and 
 once he almost persuaded him ; he climbed half 
 up the stile, but then he let himself down again 
 the wrong side, and then he stood leaning against 
 it, and gazing at Agape, who was ahead)' almost 
 out of sight over the first hill. So he stood for 
 a time, and then when he could see no more of 
 Agap^, and could hear nothing of the others, 
 the stillness of the place began to frighten him ; 
 
 60
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 and so after a while he stole back again to 
 Edone and Argia, who were still sitting on the 
 pleasant bank, eating strawberries. 
 
 "So, here is one coming back again!" cried 
 Edone, who was the first to see him; and he 
 began to laugh at him for the hurry in which 
 he set off. Soon, however, they were good 
 friends again ; only Astathes would not join in 
 laughing at Agape, for in his heart he wished 
 now that he had held on with him. 
 
 Then they thought that they would begin 
 again to play together for a while, as they had 
 done at first ; but whether it was that the sun 
 had got higher, and the air was too hot for play, 
 or whether it was that the going away of Agape 
 had made them all dull, I know not, but they 
 never were able to play as they had done. They 
 were loud, but they were not merry ; and as the 
 sun rose higher and higher, they grew more and 
 more tired of play and of one another. Then they 
 sat down upon the bank to refresh themselves 
 with the strawberries ; but they had got hot too, 
 and there was no refreshment in them ; and 
 Astathes began to think of what the kind grave 
 man had said to them, and to wish in his heart 
 more and more that he had gone with Agap^. 
 So as these thoughts passed through his mind, 
 he said to his two companions, " Had we not 
 
 6i
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 better be thinking about setting off?" He spoke 
 as if he was half afraid to say it, and Argia 
 sleepily answered, " Why, the sun is just at the 
 hottest now ! surely you would not think of going 
 now; we shall all be burned up with its heat." 
 But Edone looked angry, and said quite crossly, 
 " I wish you had taken yourself off with that 
 fool Agape, and not stayed here to tease us 
 about going." 
 
 " I am sure I wish I had," he answered sadly 
 enough ; at which Edone got quite into a passion, 
 and declared he should not stay with them any 
 longer, for that he spoiled all their pleasure ; so 
 they drove him away, and he wandered very 
 sadly along the path in which he had set out 
 with Agap^, till he came to the stile leading to 
 the waste. Over this he looked out, and it seemed 
 more barren and thorny than ever ; the sun was 
 very hot, and there was not a breath of wind ; 
 and all up the hill-side there was nothing to give 
 him the least shelter ; and the pathway by which 
 Agape had gone in the morning seemed narrower 
 than ever, so that sometimes he could not see 
 it at all, but all looked like a wall of thorns, 
 through which he never could make his way; 
 and as he looked out, he wept, for his heart sunk 
 down within him. 
 
 But where, all this time, was Agape? He had 
 
 62
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 felt lonely enough when first Astathes had stayed 
 behind ; and as he climbed the first hill, he felt 
 its steep steps heavy travelling : he felt, too, that 
 he was quite alone, and that he was but a weak 
 child after all ; so finding his heart beginning to 
 faint, he pulled out his sweet-voiced flute to help 
 his flagging steps, and played some sweet music 
 upon it ; and, as he played, it seemed as if 
 heavenly words went along with the music, and 
 they said : " In the waste howling wilderness He 
 compassed him about." Then he thought of the 
 king, and his heart was lifted up, and straightway 
 he was at the top of the hill. 
 
 Now his path lay for a while downhill; and he 
 stepped on cheerfully and easily, until he came 
 into a low green bottom. Here a stream ran 
 across his path. He could see that sometimes 
 after rain it was swelled very high, and there 
 were marks put to show the traveller who should 
 come by at such seasons, how he might pass 
 without being swept away. But it was low now, 
 and there was no danger, so Agap^ stepped 
 easily over the stones that were laid in it, and 
 gained the other side. Now as he pushed on, 
 the sun grew higher and higher in the heavens, 
 and Agap^ began to feel faint and weary ; then 
 he saw a soft green bank, and two or three 
 bushes threw a pleasant shade upon it, and he 
 
 63
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 was tempted to sit down upon it and sleep 
 awhile ; but as he drew near it, looking carefully, 
 he saw a snake lying in the grass, which startled 
 him; so then he remembered himself, and he 
 saw that the deep footsteps of his guide had 
 passed that bank by, and he thought, " Perhaps, 
 if I had fallen asleep there, I had never waked 
 again. No, I will push on to my journey's end — 
 rest, rest, in the beautiful garden." But as the 
 sun still scorched him, he thought of the bottle, 
 and drawing it out he took two or three drops 
 from it, and as he drunk, his ears seemed 
 to be filled with these kind words : " The sun 
 shall not smite thee by day, neither the moon 
 by night." So he looked up, and saw just 
 before him a grove of tall trees, and that his 
 road lay under them. Right glad was he of their 
 shelter, and of the breeze which blew gently 
 through them, waving their high tops, and 
 fanning his hot brow with its fresh breath. Now 
 he made way easily and swiftly ; and as he 
 walked along, he could look around him into 
 the wood, and, as he looked, he saw that on all 
 sides of his path there were snares, and gins, 
 and pitfalls, and sometimes the ground was all 
 tumbled and torn by the mouth of the pitfalls, as 
 if some one had fallen in and struggled mightily 
 at the mouth to save himself; and once or twice 
 
 64
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 he saw in the gins and snares what looked like 
 the whitened bones of travellers who had been 
 caught in them. Then was he more thankful 
 than ever that he had passed through this wood 
 before it was nightfall, for " How," he said to 
 himself, "if it was but twilight — how should 
 I possibly escape these dangers?" With such 
 thoughts he passed along; and now, when he 
 was nearly out of the wood, he saw something 
 creeping on towards him from the left hand of 
 the path. He kept his eyes watchfully fixed upon 
 it, for fear of any evil, for he was a watchful 
 child : soon he saw that it was indeed a very 
 fearful beast, and in another moment he knew 
 that it was a great lion ; already he could see 
 that the lion's eye was upon him, and his long 
 white teeth were gnashing, and he was just ready 
 to spring upon him. Then for a moment the boy's 
 heart sunk quite low, and he was ready to give 
 all over for lost, when the thought of his flute 
 came into his mind, and taking it quickly out of 
 his bosom he played a few earnest notes upon it. 
 As soon as the notes of the flute were heard, 
 the lion turned round and dashed away into the 
 thicket ; and Agape saw him no more, but instead 
 of his loud angry growl, it seemed as if the 
 refreshing breeze in the tree-tops formed itself 
 into words, and it said to him, "Watch and pray, 
 
 M. 65 5
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 that ye enter not into temptation." " Resist the 
 Devil, and he shall flee from you." 
 
 Then Agap^ passed out of the wood, and as 
 he came out of it, he could see before him in 
 the distance, for the first time, the gate of the 
 beautiful gardens, golden and shining ; and within 
 he thought he could see some heavenly figures, 
 and he fancied that perhaps they were his sister, 
 and his father, and his mother, looking out upon 
 his weary steps as he journeyed over the waste. 
 His heart yearned after them, but his feet were 
 weary, and the sun smote upon his head, and it 
 seemed the hotter for the pleasant shade which 
 he had left. Then, as he was tempted to turn 
 back again to the wood, he saw plainly marked 
 upon the road the beloved footprints ; and forth- 
 with taking courage, he drew out his flute and 
 played, and so pressed more cheerfully along the 
 road. He had not travelled far, when he saw 
 by the road-side a pleasant arbour ; and though 
 the footsteps had passed it by, he saw it written 
 up in the writing of the king, that here it was 
 lawful for weary travellers to rest awhile. So 
 being footsore and worn, here he sat him down 
 and drew out his bottle, and refreshed himself 
 with its living water. Then as he sat, the heavens 
 clouded over, and a mighty storm swept by ; the 
 rain fell in torrents, and he could hear the wild 
 
 66
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 beasts in the wood that he had left roar and 
 moan, but they came not near him; and after 
 awhile the storm passed over, the sky cleared 
 again over head, and he set out on his way. The 
 sun was now past its mid-height, and there was 
 a pleasant air beating on his brow. So Agape 
 moved on speedily, and by the rate at which he 
 was going, it would not be long before he reached 
 the golden gates of the happy gardens. 
 
 But where all this while was Astathes, whom 
 we left looking over the stile into the waste that 
 lay towards the garden ? Long did he stand 
 there bewaiHng his folly that he had not gone 
 with Agape, until at last, looking up into the 
 sky, he saw that the sun was past midday, and 
 he thought how soon it would hasten to set, and 
 therefore that he must at once begin his journey, 
 unless he would give up all hopes. So, gathering 
 all his courage, he sprang over the stile. But 
 he had almost turned back again as soon as he 
 had set out, so sorely was he pricked by the 
 thorns. Either the way was really narrower than 
 it had been in the morning, or he did not tread 
 so steadily as Agape : for where he had almost 
 run, Astathes could now scarcely creep. A little, 
 however, he did get on, though with many a rub 
 and tear, and his feet and ankles were bleeding 
 and wounded. Now, too, the path began to rise 
 
 67 5—2
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 up the steep, and the sun was striking so hot 
 upon his back that he was ready to faint. Then 
 he thought of his bottle, and he drew it out ; but 
 it had been corked so long, that the cork had 
 got fixed so firmly in, it was long before he could 
 stir it, or get the least drop from it. At last, 
 however, he did, and [the words] "afterwards 
 he repented and went" seemed to come with 
 a promise of acceptance upon his spirit. And 
 now he had not yet reached the top of the hill, 
 when the storm that overtook Agape safe in the 
 king's arbour, fell upon him on the bare hill- side. 
 Heavily did it beat upon him, as the rain fell in 
 torrents, and the fierce gusts of the whirlwind 
 swept by him, and the pealing thunder-clouds 
 seemed to come quite down all around him. The 
 ground, too, under his feet became miry with the 
 rain, so that he fell back almost as much as he 
 gained, and often slipped quite down into the 
 dirt, bruising and wounding himself sorely. At 
 last, however, he reached the top, and down the 
 other side of the slope he got on something 
 better ; though there, too, he slipped about, and 
 got more than one shrewd fall. But when he 
 came to the bottom of the slope, sorely was he 
 put to it. The stream over which Agape had 
 passed so easily in the morning was now swelled 
 into a roaring torrent, and it dashed along, foam- 
 
 68
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 ing, and boiling, and eddying, carrying all along 
 in its course. 
 
 Poor Astathes ! What shall he do ? either he 
 must venture into the stream, or he must give 
 up for ever the rest of the happy garden. Just 
 then he spied the posts which were set to guard 
 travellers in the time of floods. So plucking up 
 a little courage, he began to creep along by 
 them. First, the water was ankle-deep, then it 
 got knee-deep, then it rushed by his waist, and 
 still the boy kept on, holding by the posts ; 
 another step, and it covered his shoulders, and 
 lifted his feet from the ground ; firmly he held 
 on to the post, or he had been quite swept away 
 by the stream, and carried down with it and 
 drowned. When at last he gained his feet again, 
 he knew not what to do. He was not nearly 
 through the stream, and what if the next step 
 he took he should lose footing of the bottom 
 altogether, and the waters should pass over him, 
 and he should perish ? Then, first, he thought of 
 his flute, and he said within himself, " Perchance 
 this may help me." With sore trouble he drew 
 it out, and tried to make some music upon it ; 
 but not a note could he sound. Then he saw 
 that either in his many falls as he came along, 
 or else whilst he was playing idly in the garden, 
 the earth had got into his flute and almost 
 
 69
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 stopped up its small holes, so that no sound 
 could pass. Here, however, the waters helped him, 
 and by the time that he was almost benumbed, 
 he had got the flute clear enough to be able to 
 waken on it a few poor notes ; and so soon as 
 its sound was heard, the waters began to sink, 
 and the child thought that he heard a sweet 
 voice amongst their roaring. He could hardly 
 hear what it said, but he thought it was this : 
 "When thou passest through the floods they 
 shall not overflow thee." Then did he dare put 
 forth his foot again to try another step, and he 
 found that he was already at the deepest part ; 
 so clinging close to the posts, and much fearing 
 still lest there should be any ugly holes before 
 him into which he might fall and be lost, but 
 still saying over to himself the words that he 
 had heard, he crept through and climbed, faint 
 and weary, up the other side. When he reached 
 it, he sunk down upon the grass, so cold and 
 numbed and tired was he; and there he might 
 have laid till he died, if he had not thought upon 
 his precious bottle, which soon so far revived 
 him, that again he girded up his strength, and 
 passed on towards the wood. 
 
 Just at this very time Agape was reaching the 
 golden gates ; the sun had not quite set, but it 
 hung just over the top of the far hills, and shot 
 
 70
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 a red golden brightness over everything. Rich 
 and beautiful did those gates shine out before the 
 glad eyes of happy Agape. Now he could see 
 plainly multitudes of heavenly creatures passing 
 about within, wearing light as a garment, and 
 crowns that looked like living fire. At times, 
 too, he could hear bursts of ravishing music, 
 which the garden seemed always to be sending 
 up on high, and some few notes of which strayed 
 out even into the pathway of the plain. 
 
 And now he stood before the gate; full was 
 his heart of hope and fear — a pleasant happy 
 fear, as if too much joy lay close before him. 
 Now all the troubles of the way were over, and 
 as he looked back, it seemed but a little moment 
 since he had left the beautiful but deceiving 
 garden in the morning, and all his troubles 
 seemed light. The scorching of the sun he 
 remembered no more, the weary hill-side, the 
 gin-set forest, and the lion's paws, all these 
 seemed little now, and he only thought of them 
 to thank the king who had brought him so safely 
 through all. As he lifted up his eyes to do so, 
 they lighted upon a golden writing, which was 
 hung over the gate. So he read the writing, 
 and it was, " Knock, and it shall be opened." 
 Then did he indeed draw in a deep breath, as 
 one does before doing some great thing, and 
 
 71
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 knocked with all his force ; and so as soon as 
 he knocked, the golden door began to open, and 
 the happy boy entered the garden. 
 
 What awaited him there it is not given me 
 to tell ; but from the blessed sounds which fell 
 upon my ear as the gate rolled back, I may not 
 doubt that he was entirely happy, for it was as 
 if the sound of a sea of heavenly voices suddenly 
 swept by me. 
 
 Just as Agape reached the golden door, As- 
 tathes was entering on the wood. As he turned 
 into it, he saw the sun sink below the far-off 
 hills. Twilight came fast on, and he soon found 
 it very hard to trace out the path, so thick were 
 the branches overhead, and so faint and feeble 
 the remaining Hght. More than once he was on 
 the very brink of a deep pitfall, and only saved 
 himself from falling in by catching at the bushes 
 which grew round its mouth. More than once, 
 too, did he get his foot entangled in those gins 
 and snares wherewith the side of the path was 
 full, and only escaped from them grazed and 
 hurt by the sharp teeth of the biting traps. On 
 all sides of him, too, wild beasts were roaring. 
 Now had that come true, of which in the morning 
 he had been warned, that out of every bush, 
 instead of the liquid notes of sweet singing birds, 
 there should gleam forth upon him the fiery eyes 
 
 72
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 of savage monsters thirsting for his blood. As 
 he heard their deep roars, or, more near to him, 
 the savage snapping of their sharp teeth— as he 
 saw their fiery eyes, and almost felt the brushing 
 of their soft or wiry hides, he felt more than 
 ever before how foolish he had been in losing 
 the morning-hours, and not passing through the 
 wood whilst the sun was high. His escaping all 
 these dangers was a wonder above the power of 
 man. But as he went into the wood, he had 
 taken his flute out of his bosom, and though he 
 could not draw from it such music as came from 
 the breath of Agape on his, yet now, by care 
 and trouble, it was much freed from its earthly 
 hindrances, and made a low clear music. All 
 the wood through did Astathes keep playing on 
 the flute ; never was it from his lips ; and though 
 he woke from it no sounds of pleasure, or of 
 triumph, yet it doubtless saved him from the 
 fierce jaws which on every side were gaping for 
 him, and he passed out of the wood in safety. 
 But when he entered on the plains beyond, no 
 such clear sight of the golden gates or the 
 happy gardens gladdened his eyes as Agape had 
 seen. Perchance in the twilight there was a httle 
 brightness thereabouts, but it was dull and un- 
 certain ; and after his frights in the wood, the 
 boy's heart would have fainted wholly within him, 
 
 73
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 if it had not been for the precious bottle, with 
 which he moistened his parched lips. " He shall 
 make thy darkness to be light," the waving 
 boughs of the trees then seemed to murmur to 
 him, as he walked from under their shelter ; and 
 this raised his spirits, so that he again set forth. 
 Now was he by the arbour, but the twilight was 
 too far advanced for him to see it, or to rest 
 therein. So, weary and distressed, he pressed 
 forward, until at length a " light rose upon his 
 darkness"; for he too, as he drew nearer to the 
 golden gates, was soothed with some soft sounds 
 of mercy, until, with a beating heart and a 
 straining eye, he seized the golden knocker, and 
 oh, joy of joys ! the gate opened for his entrance, 
 and Astathes, poor wavering Astathes himself, 
 of the king's bounteous goodness, entered the 
 heavenly garden. 
 
 But what, all this day through, were Edon^ 
 and Argia doing ? 
 
 After they had driven Astathes from them, 
 they sat for a while longer on the same grassy 
 bank, dreamily doing nothing. Then as the sun 
 grew hotter and hotter, Argia fell asleep, and 
 Edon^ strolled some way from him to gather 
 the rich-looking ripe fruit which hung from a tree 
 a little further on ; there he sat for hours, eating 
 the fruit, and throwing the stones playfully from 
 
 74
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 him, whilst Argia still slept on in the pleasant 
 shade, until the sun was beginning to set. Just 
 at that moment Edone saw a fierce beast coming 
 nigh to Argia. He thought it very shocking to 
 see his friend eaten up by the beast, but he was 
 much more afraid for himself, and he thought 
 that if he called to wake up Argia, the beast 
 might perhaps turn upon him instead. So he 
 tried, without making any noise, to steal away 
 into the wood. The beast came up to Argia, 
 who slept so soundly that he seemed to be dead ; 
 when just at that moment Edone shook the 
 bushes as he fled away. The evil beast looked 
 up, and seeing Edone, he sprang like lightning 
 after him, and Argia was first woke up by hear- 
 ing the dreadful shrieks of Edone, as the beast 
 seized him in his claws, and doubtless tore him 
 in pieces. It was a sad hearing for Argia. He 
 started up and ran he knew not whither ; then 
 he thought of his flute, and felt for it in his 
 bosom, but it had fallen out whilst he slept, and 
 he hardly dared steal back to look for it. At 
 last, however, he did ; but when he found it, it was 
 so bent and bruised in his sleep, that it seemed 
 as if it never again would make any music. 
 However, having found it, he started off as fast 
 as his feet would carry him ; and as it happened, 
 he run straight to the stile over which Agap^ and 
 
 75
 
 THE SPRING MORNING 
 
 Astathes had passed. In his sore fear he sprang 
 over the stile, and began to hurry up the hill in 
 spite of the thorns and the steepness. But there 
 he was lost from my eyes in the gathering dark- 
 ness of the night, and I know not how it fared 
 with him further. Whether he was drowned in the 
 swollen stream, or lost in the pitfalls, or snared 
 in the gins, or devoured by beasts, or whether he 
 did straighten and tune his marred flute, and with 
 the help of its music just reach the golden gates, 
 I cannot say ; but I greatly fear for Argia, for 
 I know who it is that hath said, " The night 
 cometh when no man can work." 
 
 76
 
 VIII 
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 [i Corinthians ix 24 — 27; Heb. xii i] 
 
 I DREAMED that I was walking through 
 a foreign country far away from this land, and 
 I thought I came to a wide grassy plain, sprinkled 
 over here and there with shrubs and trees, be- 
 tween which lay an open space, looking as green, 
 and smooth, and fresh as a newly-mown lawn ; 
 and as I was casting my eyes over it, and 
 wondering why it was kept so smooth, I saw a 
 number of persons all crowded together at one 
 end of it ; so I walked on till I joined them, 
 that I might learn what was going on. There 
 I saw several of the group dressed all alike, 
 and could soon see that they were ready to run 
 a race. They had cast off all those clothes which 
 could hinder them in running, and they seemed 
 to be all ready to set out as soon as the signal 
 should be given. While I was looking at them, 
 a herald of the king of the land came out of his 
 tent, and began to read to them the rules of the 
 race. He told them that the king would give 
 
 77
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 crowns to all that strove earnestly in that race ; 
 that these crowns would be brighter than any 
 crowns of this earth ; and that he would take 
 every one who won a crown, to receive him into 
 his family, and treat him as his own son ; and that 
 such should never suffer more, or want anything ; 
 but that they should dwell for ever in the king's 
 palace, and be as happy as heart could wish. 
 He told them, too, that all who halted in the 
 race, or did not run earnestly, would lose these 
 crowns, and that they would be as surely punished 
 as the rest would be rewarded; that they would 
 be cast into a dark and dreary country, where 
 they would work ever under hard taskmasters, 
 and groan for their stripes and misery, without 
 help and without hope. 
 
 When I heard these rules, I looked more 
 earnestly than before upon the men who were 
 about to run, and to my surprise I saw that 
 there were many more than I had seen at first. 
 There were many whom I had thought mere 
 bystanders or lookers-on, but who I now saw 
 were indeed amongst the runners. Yet I could 
 scarcely believe it. For they were not dressed 
 like the others ; they had taken no care to gird 
 up their loins : some of them had long flowing 
 clothes, which must get in their way as soon as 
 they began to run ; some were eating and drink- 
 
 78
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 ing, forgetting that they had a hard struggle 
 before them, and would need to be as light and 
 as active as possible when they got into the 
 race ; and yet all seemed to think that they 
 should do very well, and made no doubt at all 
 that there were crowns for them as well as for 
 the rest. 
 
 Even amongst those who were better pre- 
 pared, I could see, on looking closer, a great 
 difference between some and others. Some were 
 strong and active, and looked as if they could 
 not fail of getting the first crown, and living for 
 ever in the happy palace of the king ; whilst 
 others were pale and faint, as if they had hardly 
 any strength to walk, and must fall short as soon 
 as they began to run. Some seemed too old to 
 do anything but hobble, and some so young that 
 they could scarcely do more than crawl. 
 
 Whilst I was looking them over and over, 
 and waiting eagerly to see the end, I heard 
 a trumpet sound, and all who were to run got 
 ready for the start. Soon another trumpet 
 sounded, and away they set. For a few paces 
 all went on together, but only for a few. First 
 I saw that those who had been carelessly eating 
 and drinking, and never thinking of the race 
 they had to run, began to flag and faint. One 
 after another they halted, and as the rest ran 
 
 79
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 on, they were soon left altogether behind. Then 
 I saw that one and another of those who would 
 not put on the runner's dress, began to stumble 
 and fall as their long clothes caught the wind 
 and entangled their feet. So they, too, were left 
 behind. Only one or two of them began to strive 
 to cast off their long garments, and to gird up 
 their loins like the better runners. But whilst 
 they stopped for this the rest passed on, and 
 they were left quite behind ; all but one, who, 
 though he was a good way behind, yet seemed 
 determined not to lose the crown, and so laboured 
 mightily to regain the ground that he had lost, 
 and I could see him still following, though far 
 behind, and looking very weary and distressed, 
 but still pressing on as one who would not give 
 up the struggle. 
 
 And now their number was sadly thinned, 
 and I could look all the closer at those who still 
 followed on. One brave runner there was who 
 took the lead of all ; he was made for speed and 
 strength, and though he was at the head of the 
 race, he did not seem to labour so much as many 
 that got on less quickly, for he often looked 
 round to see how others fared, and had a jest 
 ready when this one fell off, and a joke when 
 another stumbled. As they turned a corner in 
 the course, I heard one of the king's heralds 
 
 80
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 speak to this man in a grave sad voice as he 
 went by, and he seemed to say to him : " Let 
 him 1 
 fall." 
 
 Then there followed another, and he too was 
 a brave runner ; he set his feet firmly on the 
 ground, and drew his breath so evenly, it seemed 
 as if nothing would weary him. But as I watched 
 his running, I saw that he hardly ever looked 
 on to the end of the course. He had his eyes 
 sometimes on the ground, sometimes on those 
 near him ; and if a bird did but fly out of a bush 
 with gayer feathers than the rest, or if the air was 
 scented with sweet-smelling flowers, he would 
 make a half-stop, as if he must stay for them, 
 before he could go on with the race. A little 
 way behind him came another, and he, too, me- 
 thought, promised well for a crown, for he, too, 
 had a strong step and an active body ; but his 
 eyes, too, were wandering, and once or twice 
 I thought, as he passed near the fruit-trees of 
 that land, on which grew fruit of gold and silver, 
 that I saw him catch at the beautiful boughs, as 
 if he wished to fill his hands even whilst he ran 
 the race. I heard one of the heralds speak to 
 these two also ; and to the first he said, in a 
 chiding tone, and yet full of kindness, " I press 
 toward the mark " ; and to the other, " Laying 
 
 M. 8 1 6
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 aside every weight"; but it did not seem to me 
 that his words sunk much into their hearts. 
 For a little while, indeed, they ran more steadily, 
 but soon I could mark their eyes wandering, 
 and their hands stretched out, just as they were 
 before the warning. 
 
 Some way after these there came another. 
 He was not so strong as those who had gone 
 before, but there was a great firmness in his 
 face, and his eyes seemed set straight on, as if 
 he looked at something in the air before him. 
 Then I strove more earnestly to see on what 
 his eyes were set, and I could see far before him 
 the end of the course, and there the judge's 
 chair was set, and the judge himself was seated 
 in it. He was a grave and comely person, 
 and a crown was on his head, and at his right 
 hand there were shining crowns stored up for 
 those who prospered in the race ; and I thought 
 as I looked, that his eyes were on the steady 
 runner, and that he looked at him with kindness 
 and love. 
 
 Then came another, and he was nimble and 
 light of foot, though he was now so far behind, — 
 a Httle while before, and he had been the front 
 of all ; and then he had stopped to take breath, 
 as though he were confident that at any time 
 he could regain the ground that he had lost : 
 
 82
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 and so now he was far behind, and there came 
 a warning to him from one of the heralds, and 
 it was this, "Be not weary in well-doing," and 
 when he heard it he started forward, and got 
 nearly to the head of all ; but then he grew 
 slothful, and began to pause again, as if the 
 race was nothing more than sport, and its bright 
 crown no better than a jest. While he was thus 
 loitering, I noticed one come up whom I had 
 marked at first as very lame and aged. He 
 had soon been left behind : yet still there was 
 a great earnestness in his countenance. Many 
 times when I thought he must have given in, 
 I heard him call upon the name of the king, as 
 if he would not be left behind, and then strength 
 came unto his weakness, and he got on nobly in 
 the course. Lame, too, as he was, I saw him 
 often lend a hand to a poor feeble-looking runner 
 who was pressing on behind him. He, too, was 
 in earnest, but he was very weak, and often his 
 steps tottered, and he caught at the hand of the 
 lame man, or he must have fallen ; and so it 
 was, that whenever the lame man helped him 
 on, instead of being delayed by his kindness, 
 he seemed to help himself too ; and the crown 
 looked brighter at the end of the course, and 
 the judge's chair and the goal seemed to come 
 nearer to him. 
 
 Ss 6—2
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 Now behind them came a fair child, beautiful 
 to look upon, and almost with the face of an 
 angel; but how its little feet could bear the 
 road, or what could put into its young heart to 
 run the race, I could scarcely think, till I saw 
 that a hand was guiding it I had not seen at 
 first, and there was written upon it in letters of 
 gold, "He shall gather the lambs in his arms": 
 so then I knew that the little child was safe, and 
 I fancied that I could see the judge holding out 
 the crown which was to adorn that infant head. 
 
 But as I gazed, I heard a cry as of one in 
 distress, and I looked round, and I saw the 
 foremost runner fallen all along upon the ground. 
 Alas, he had not minded the warning of the 
 herald, he had not fixed his eyes upon the crowns 
 and the goal ; and so, as he was looking idly 
 round to see how others fared, he stumbled and 
 fell, and now he lay all along upon the ground, 
 and he could not regain his footing. The ground 
 where he had fallen was all miry and unsound, 
 and the more he struggled the more he sunk 
 into it. I heard him cry out, and a sharp sad 
 cry it was ; but I never heard him call upon the 
 king, and so he lay struggling and labouring, until 
 all had passed him by, and he was left behind. 
 
 The others passed on ; but the careless runner, 
 I grieved to see, was still running carelessly, and 
 
 84
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 looking no more towards the end of the race, 
 nor pressing more towards the mark, than when 
 I saw him last. I feared for him too ; and even 
 as I looked, a beautiful bird of the rarest feathers 
 fluttered out of a bush by the side, and almost 
 within his reach. I saw his eyes sparkle, and he 
 turned a little on one side; it was only a little, 
 and he did not wholly cease from his running, 
 but that little cost the poor man his crown ; for 
 there were secret spikes set amongst that grass 
 which lay out of the road, and as he hurried on 
 after the gay bird which fluttered just before 
 him, he trod amongst the spikes and fell ; and as 
 I looked, I saw that it was written up, just where 
 he had left the smooth grass of the course, " The 
 way of transgressors is hard." 
 
 He who had been warned at the same time 
 by the king's faithful herald, was just by when 
 his companion turned aside out of the way ; and 
 when he saw the other fall, for a time methought 
 it made his countenance graver, and he raised 
 his eyes and looked off from the trees of gold 
 to the far end of the course. And then there 
 fell a light upon his face, which I had never 
 seen on it before. But soon it died away, and 
 a film gathered over his eyes, and the crowns 
 and the end were hidden from them; and just 
 then a golden bough stretched quite out into 
 
 85
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 the middle of the road, and its fruit of silver and 
 of gold almost touched his hands. He looked 
 at it, and I feared that he was lost. He stopped 
 to handle it. He gathered some of its rich fruit, 
 and began to load himself with it. Just then 
 came up the slower runner, whose eyes had ever 
 been fixed upon the end. To him he offered 
 some of the spoil, if he would stay and help to 
 gather it ; but the man could not take his eyes 
 off from the end ; and so he looked not round 
 upon the baits with which the other strove to 
 tempt him, but saying, " I press toward the 
 mark," he was for passing on his way. The 
 sound of those words which he had heard of old 
 from the herald, startled the other somewhat, 
 and he let the bough go. Then there came, as 
 from the air, a voice which said, "They that 
 will be rich fall into temptation and a snare" ; 
 and again, " But thou, O man of God, flee 
 these things." When he heard these words, the 
 faithful runner hastened on his way ; and even 
 the tarrying runner trembled and set out again 
 upon his course. But he could not bring him- 
 self to cast away the fruit that he had gathered ; 
 and it grew heavier and heavier, as he strove 
 to carry it, until first he halted, and then he 
 fell by the wayside, pierced through with many 
 sorrows. 
 
 86
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 Then there passed by one running bravely, 
 with his face towards the goal, and his steps 
 nimble ; and I was glad when I saw the man 
 so earnest, for I could see that it was the same 
 who had fallen back before, from loving to take 
 his ease; and now I had good hopes for him, 
 that he would hold on to the end. Yet even 
 as he ran, my heart misgave me for him ; and 
 I looked round with more confidence on the lame 
 man and his fainting friend, who were striving 
 to reach the end. Close by them, too, was the 
 fair child, who seemed to glide along the way, 
 so easy was his running. I could not take my 
 eyes from them, though I could hear still further 
 back the voice of one calling on the king for 
 aid, and I thought by the sound that it grew 
 somewhat nearer. But as I listened to it, I heard 
 a sound of the sweetest music, and I saw, on 
 looking up, that it came from golden harps, on 
 which men clothed in white were playing round 
 the judge's chair ; and now they touched their 
 harps because one had reached the end. Then 
 I drew near to see who was the happy man : 
 it was not the man who had just before passed 
 me so nimbly, but it was the slower runner 
 whose face had been set so steadily to the end 
 of the race. And I saw that as he drew near 
 the king smiled upon him with a loving smile ; 
 
 87
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 and he spake the word, and a crown was brought 
 to him, and he set it on his servant's head. It 
 was bright to look upon, like the diamond and 
 the topaz, and on it there was written, in letters 
 of fire which flashed out on every side, " Be thou 
 faithful unto death, and I will give thee the 
 crown of life." 
 
 Then the golden doors of the king's palace 
 were rolled back, and beautiful lights and sounds 
 were seen and heard from within, and I saw the 
 crowned runner walk towards the door, and he 
 passed within, and the happy crowd within 
 thronged about him, and gave him a glad wel- 
 come ; and though I could but just see his face, 
 I saw that joy sat upon it, that the struggle of 
 his hard race was over, and that sorrow and 
 sighing had fled far away. Much did I long to 
 go in with him into the happy place, but it was 
 only for the runners ; and the golden gates shut 
 soon upon him, and hid their joy from those 
 who were without. 
 
 Whilst I was wishing to run in the race 
 myself, I heard the harps of gold touched again, 
 and give out their sweet music. Then I looked 
 up, and three more of the runners drew near. 
 The lame man, and the fainting runner, and the 
 fair child, stood before the judge's chair. The 
 king looked on them with his mild love, and he
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 called straightway for crowns, which he set upon 
 their heads. Then I saw that on the crown of 
 the lame man it was written, " He that endureth 
 to the end, the same shall be saved"; and turning 
 to him who had so often almost fainted in the 
 way, and who could even now scarcely believe 
 that he was safely landed at the goal, I saw it 
 written on his crown, " To him that hath no 
 might, he increaseth strength"; whilst the fair 
 child looked fairer and more beautiful than 
 ever, and he bore upon his crown the writing, 
 " Suffer the Httle children to come unto me, and 
 forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom 
 of heaven." 
 
 Then these three walked together towards the 
 golden doors, which opened for them of their 
 own accord, to the sound of the sweetest music ; 
 and they, too, went in and were soon mingled 
 with the happy people there. 
 
 Then I thought within myself of the man who 
 had passed so nimbly by me, and promised so 
 well for a crown, and yet who had not reached 
 the end. So I walked slowly down the course 
 to see if I could light upon him. I had gone 
 but a little way from the end when I saw a choice 
 arbour, shady with flowery shrubs, and sweet 
 with every scented flower, and there on the 
 mossy seat within I saw the nimble runner
 
 THE RUNNERS 
 
 stretched out at length, and fast asleep. So 
 I tried to awaken him, but could not — he only 
 turned in his sleep and slept the sounder. My 
 heart was grieved for the man; but as I came 
 out of the arbour, I saw he had not been un- 
 warned, for it was written up over the doorway 
 by which he had come in, " Slothfulness casteth 
 into a deep sleep." 
 
 And as I came out I heard the same voice of 
 one calling on the king which I had heard before, 
 and looking round I saw the runner who had so 
 late cast off his flowing robes, and girded himself 
 for the race. He was toiling indeed with his 
 eye fixed on the end, and yet only seeing its 
 brightness at times ; and when it was clouded 
 over, I heard him call again upon the king, like 
 one who feared that all was lost. 
 
 But now his troubles were well-nigh over, 
 for soon he heard the welcoming music of those 
 heavenly harps ; and a crown was brought out 
 for him which shone with these words, "Faint, 
 yet pursuing"; and the golden door opened for 
 him, and the scales fell altogether from his eyes, 
 and all the labour of his race was forgotten in 
 the fulness of the joy which flowed into his soul. 
 So whilst I was thinking how I could myself 
 begin to run in this race, I awoke, and behold 
 it was a dream. 
 
 90
 
 IX 
 
 THE YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 [i Samuel xvii 34 — 37] 
 
 In a large upper room, just under the flat 
 roof of the house, sat a family at breakfast. 
 They were round a rude wooden table, and they 
 lay along on benches which were placed round 
 its sides. 
 
 A fine family they were to look on, that old 
 venerable man and his eight sons. The three 
 who were the nearest to their father looked like 
 soldiers. They belonged to the king's own guard, 
 and proud enough they were that they did so. 
 There were no finer men in all the camp of Saul 
 than these, when they went out after him in their 
 shining armour, treading strongly on the ground, 
 and making it rattle and shake under their brazen 
 greaves. Now they sat unarmed like the rest 
 round the table, eating the loaves and parched 
 corn and cheese and butter which their father 
 had brought out of his stores, and the fresh 
 honey in the honey-comb which their youngest 
 brother had found in the wood. 
 
 The old man looked happily round upon his 
 
 91
 
 THE YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 sons, and perhaps his eye rested with an especial 
 love upon his youngest ; for he was still a lad, 
 not come to the height or strength of his 
 brothers, and his long hair curled over his ruddy 
 countenance, which looked fresh and clear as the 
 dewy morning. A stranger would not much have 
 noticed him amongst these strong, fine men, his 
 elder brothers ; and they all despised him for 
 his youth, and left him to take charge of their 
 father's sheep. But there was One who did not 
 despise him. There was One who looked on 
 him with far more favour than on those proud 
 and haughty soldiers, and that One was God. 
 For this young lad had sought and found the 
 God of his fathers. He was a holy youth — 
 he loved to hear of God — he knew all the 
 wonderful histories of his people of old, how 
 God had chosen Abraham, and blessed Isaac, 
 and preserved Jacob. He loved to hear of the 
 time when, in the far wilderness, Jacob had laid 
 his head upon a stone to sleep, and God had 
 sent him the beautiful visions of His holy angels 
 coming up and down as on a ladder from the 
 earth to heaven ; on all these things he would 
 think and ponder as he sat watching the sheep 
 in the waste, and sometimes you might see his 
 hands clasped together in earnest prayer to this 
 great God of Abraham ; sometimes his eyes 
 
 92
 
 THE YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 would fill with tears, which would run all down 
 his cheeks, as he thought of these deep things, 
 and longed to know God more himself, and to 
 see some of these wonderful and great sights 
 which holy men before now had seen. Sometimes 
 you might hear him playing on a little harp, 
 which he loved so well that he seldom went to 
 the far folds without it ; and then he would sing 
 to its music, and pour out the most holy and 
 heavenly praises and psalms. God was teaching 
 this shepherd all these holy songs, in which his 
 full pure heart ran over when he praised and 
 gave thanks unto His name. 
 
 Once when he was thus praising and thanking 
 his God, he did find in a wonderful way that God 
 was near unto him. It was the winter time ; the 
 snow lay upon the high grounds, and the wind 
 roared and howled through the woods, making 
 the tops of the cedar-trees bow and murmur like 
 the waves of the sea, or the whispering of some 
 great army in a place of many echoes. He had 
 pent up his flock in a sheltered place, under the 
 lee of a high wood, and as he sat watching them 
 and listening to the tossing trees, it seemed to 
 him as if the voice of the wind and the murmur 
 of the forest was a song of praise to the God of 
 all. " I will not be silent," he said within himself, 
 "whilst all things are praising the Lord"; so he 
 
 93
 
 THE YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 took up his harp, and began to sing to the wild 
 notes which it flung forth as his hand swept over 
 it. Perhaps he sang as he once did, " Praise the 
 Lord upon earth ; ye dragons and all deeps ; 
 fire and hail, snow and vapour, wind and storms, 
 fulfilling His word; mountains and all hills; 
 fruitful trees and all cedars ; beasts and all 
 cattle... young men and maidens; old men and 
 children ; praise the name of the Lord, for His 
 name only is excellent, and His praise above 
 heaven and earth." 
 
 Hardly had he finished the last words when 
 he thought that he heard a roaring louder and 
 nearer than that of the forest behind him, and 
 looking up, he saw that a great lion and a savage 
 bear, whom cold and hunger had brought from 
 the mountain-woods into the plain, were coming 
 near the fold that he was keeping. 
 
 It was a fearful sight to see those savage 
 beasts drawing near to him. The lion crouching 
 along the ground, its long tail stretched straight 
 out behind it, its eyes fixed, and looking ready to 
 spring upon him in a moment ; the bear, too, 
 with its heavy awkward trot, fierce red eyes, and 
 shaggy head — this was a fearful sight to a lonely 
 shepherd boy on a far hill-side. He might call 
 as loud as he would, and no man would hear 
 him or help him. 
 
 94
 
 THE YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 But was he frightened ? These thoughts, you 
 may be sure, came fast into his mind as he 
 looked at the fierce and evil beasts ; but he was 
 not frightened, for other thoughts came with 
 them. It came into his mind, as if God had 
 sent the thought, that though no man was there, 
 yet that he was not alone; that God was very 
 nigh to him, and that never was he so little alone 
 as when all men were afar off, and God was near 
 him. So he lifted up his heart to God and said, 
 " O Lord God of Abraham, be nigh unto Thy 
 servant that prayeth^'; and then with a great 
 shout he rushed upon the beasts with no more 
 than his shepherd's staff. And God was with him 
 of a truth, and so mightily was he strengthened, 
 that he seized the beasts by the beard, and slew 
 them in the strength of the God of all. 
 
 Then he blessed and praised the Lord. But 
 he made no vaunt of what he had done ; only 
 he stored the thought of it up in his heart ; and 
 many times afterward, when danger threatened 
 him, he said within himself, " The Lord which 
 delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out 
 of the paw of the bear. He will deliver me." 
 
 95
 
 X 
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 " And he was baptized, he and all his, straight- 
 way." — Acts xvi 33. 
 
 In my visions I saw a tent pitched upon 
 a fair plain. It was a large tent, of the purest 
 white cloth, so that it might be seen afar off; 
 and when the sun shone brightly upon it, and 
 the wind lifted up the folds of a great flag 
 which hung from its top, it was indeed a noble 
 sight. When the flag unfolded itself in the 
 breeze, you might see upon it a blood-red cross, 
 upon a ground of snow-white silk. 
 
 Many people were going in and out of the 
 tent. Sometimes a single man would go in silently 
 and thoughtfully, with a heavy countenance, and 
 he would come out again after a time, with a glow 
 upon his face, and a firmer step than that with 
 which he went in. Sometimes a husband and 
 wife would go in together; sometimes a father 
 and a mother, with their children; sometimes 
 a child would lead in an old man ; sometimes 
 a mother would pass in with an infant in her 
 
 96
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 arms ; some, too, would go in carelessly and 
 lightly just because others did, and these seemed 
 to come out pretty much as they went in ; or if 
 for a while they were graver, and seemed more 
 earnest, it soon wore off again, and they were 
 as light and thoughtless as ever. 
 
 While I was musing upon this strange sight, 
 and wondering what it might mean, methought 
 some one tapped lightly on my shoulder. I looked 
 round, and there stood by me a comely person 
 with a grave, kind air, but with eyes in which 
 there was such a brightness, that when I looked 
 into them I felt abashed, and fixed mine down 
 upon the ground. 
 
 Whilst I cast about in my mind how I should 
 speak to him, he first began, and said to me, in 
 a mild voice which chased away my fears, " You 
 would see the inside of this tent, and know 
 what is doing in it? then follow me, and I will 
 show you." 
 
 Thereupon he took me by the hand, and led 
 me down to the tent door, which he lifted up, 
 and we stood within. There were many people 
 within, of all ages and countries, gathered round 
 one who stood high above them all. He was 
 clothed like the grave man who had brought 
 me in, but was not so bright and terrible to look 
 upon ; his voice, too. was soft and winning, 
 
 M. 97 7
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 and when he turned to any, it was with a smile 
 of kindness which drew their hearts after him, 
 so that the very children in the tent came near, 
 without their little hearts failing them, as one by 
 one he called them to him. 
 
 Then my guide led me nigh to this man, and 
 placed me at his side, that I might see and hear 
 all that passed between him and those that were 
 with him in the tent. Just then there came to 
 him a man of middle years, with a sad, heavy 
 countenance ; his eyes were fixed on the ground, 
 and I could see that salt tears were falling from 
 them, and running over his hard, manly cheeks. 
 Kindly and tenderly spake the man in white to 
 him, and bid him fear not, for that he was about 
 to serve a gracious master. The words seemed 
 by their very sound to open the poor man's heart, 
 for he looked up, and almost smiled amongst 
 his tears. He said, too, something about having 
 "fought long against the king, and served his 
 enemies, and resisted his messages; and that 
 he feared he should not now be received as 
 a soldier." Then the man in white bid him 
 look up, and whether it was a beautiful picture 
 or a heavenly vision I know not, but he saw 
 the forms of bright soldiers in golden arms, with 
 crowns upon their heads, and happy faces, which 
 seemed bathed in light, so gloriously did they 
 
 98
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 shine; and one and another looked on the man 
 kindly, and seemed to beckon him to join them, 
 till his eyes began to sparkle and his heart to 
 beat high with hope. 
 
 Then the man in white bid him look in 
 upon himself; and when he saw how unlike he 
 was to them, his heart began again to die away, 
 but the man raised him up by saying to him, 
 " And such were some of them ; yea, all of them, 
 like you, were rebels once." Then he told him 
 how the king had provided for those that under- 
 took his service, that they should always be held 
 up so long as they looked to him for help, and 
 that he would himself ever be near them ; that 
 though they could not see him with their eyes, 
 or feel him with their hands, yet that he would 
 be close by them, and that he would put strength 
 into their arms, and cover them in the day of 
 battle; that he himself would help them to be 
 faithful to him, if they sought his help; and 
 that then he would at last take them to dwell 
 with him in his palace, where they would sit at 
 his board, and hear his voice, and see his face 
 for ever. 
 
 The poor man's eyes brightened at the sound 
 of these brave words, and he said, "This is 
 what I want indeed, but are you sure that the 
 king will receive, as his soldier, one who has 
 
 99 7—2
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 so often rebelled against his will and refused to 
 serve him?" 
 
 " Of that I can make you sure," said the man 
 in white ; " here is the king's own hand and seal 
 for what I do," and with that he opened a book 
 which was sealed with the king's seal, and he 
 read to him from it, " Go ye into all the world, 
 and preach the gospel unto every creature ; he 
 that believeth and is baptized, shall be saved." 
 And again he showed him in another place, 
 " Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise 
 cast out"; and again to cheer his heart the 
 more, he showed him this, " Your sins and your 
 iniquities will I remember no more." 
 
 Then was the man's heart glad indeed, and 
 with a cheerful voice he said, "Oh, sir, let me 
 enter quickly into the service of the king," Then 
 the man in white questioned him once more, 
 whether he did indeed believe the king's word, 
 and would fight his battles and strive against his 
 enemies ; and when he had heard his answer, 
 firm and yet humble, he brought out a book, in 
 which he wrote down his name as one of the 
 king's soldiers ; then he made upon his forehead 
 the sign of the same cross which I had seen 
 upon the banner, and told him that now he was 
 one of the king's men, and that he must bear 
 him true love unto his life's end. Then he called 
 
 lOO
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 him nigh unto himself, and he drew out from 
 the king's treasures a bright and beautiful ring, 
 which he put upon his finger, and called it the 
 ring of adoption. There was in it one stone, 
 which burnt and sparkled like living fire, and 
 round it was written as in flame — " Faith." As 
 he put it on his finger, he said to him, "Whilst 
 this ring remains on thy finger, thou art safe; 
 and whilst this stone burns and sparkles so 
 brightly, nothing can draw it off; but if ever 
 this grows dull, then look to the ring, for it will 
 begin to grow loose upon thy finger ; and if it 
 once falls off, then thou art lost. And now go 
 thy way, and God speed thee." So I saw that 
 the man went his way with a glad and cheerful 
 countenance. 
 
 Then came another before him, and with him 
 he dealt in like manner, and so did he with his 
 wife, for she too was led to wish to do the king 
 service ; and I heard him say to her, that some 
 of those whose crowns were brightest, had been 
 once but as she was now — a weak woman and 
 ready to fall. 
 
 So they were turning away, when the eyes 
 of the man in white fell upon a child which she 
 was leading by the hand, and a little infant 
 whom she was shielding in her bosom ; so he 
 looked upon her again, and spoke and said, "And 
 
 lOI
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 will you not give up those little ones, too, to do 
 the king's service?" 
 
 Then her eyes sparkled more brightly than 
 ever, and she said, " Oh yes, sir, if I may ; but 
 how can such little ones perform any service 
 to our king?" 
 
 Then the man in white answered her again, 
 " It is true, even the eldest of them can scarcely 
 serve him yet, that you can see ; but the king 
 is full of love, and he would fain have such little 
 ones given up to him : and he will put their 
 names in his book, and give them the ring of 
 adoption, if their parents will bring them unto 
 him, and promise in their names, that when they 
 grow to years, they will serve their king ; and 
 then the king will trust them unto you, to bring 
 them up for him. Look," he said, " here is the 
 king's word for it." So he opened the sealed 
 book again, and read from it, " Suffer the little 
 children to come unto me, and forbid them not " ; 
 and again, " The promise is unto you and to your 
 children." Then were the hearts of the parents 
 glad, and thankfully did they promise for their 
 children that they should serve the king here- 
 after; and the sign of the cross was marked upon 
 their foreheads, and their names were written 
 down in the king's book, and the ring of adoption 
 was put on their small fingers. Then the man
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 made them observe, that there was such virtue 
 in these rings, that though they fitted now the 
 smallness of these infant fingers, they would fit 
 them still hereafter, though they grew up to 
 man's estate and size. He showed them, too, 
 the stone of faith set in them ; but in these little 
 rings it sparkled not outwardly. "Already," 
 said he, "is there in these stones some inward 
 sparkling, though it cannot be seen outwardly ; 
 but as the children grow in reason, if they grow, 
 too, in grace, the stones shall begin to sparkle 
 outwardly. Be it your care to draw out this 
 shining." Then I saw that the mother believed, 
 and so the stone in her own ring waxed brighter 
 and brighter ; but for a moment it seemed to 
 me that the father doubted, and looking down 
 upon his ring, I saw that the stone in it was 
 cloudy. But even while I watched it, it was as 
 when a cloud clears off from the sun, and the 
 man looked up and thanked the king, who had 
 taken his little ones so soon into his good and 
 happy service. So they and their children passed 
 on and left the tent. 
 
 And I stood and saw others come before the 
 man ; and some came as these had come, and 
 some seemed to come with lightness and no 
 thought. Then I saw that the man looked very 
 gravely upon such; and he told them that the 
 
 103
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 king whom they wished to serve was one who 
 "searched all hearts, and from whom no secrets 
 were hid." Then he questioned them closely, 
 and only if they still said that they desired to 
 serve the king, he wrote down their name, and 
 their children's, in the king's book of service, 
 and put the rings upon their fingers ; but this 
 he did with a sorrowful face, and told them that 
 if they were not faithful to the king, it would 
 make him punish them more dreadfully than 
 others, that they had thus been called his servants, 
 and entered as soldiers under him. 
 
 For some time had I looked on this sight, 
 and marked many coming in and going out, until 
 I longed to know how it went with them after 
 they had left the tent — how they fought, and who 
 were faithful, and how the little ones grew up 
 who had been so early made soldiers of the king. 
 And as these things were in my mind, methought 
 my guide touched me again, and said, "Thou 
 wouldst see further the end of this matter } then 
 follow me." So I walked after him out of the 
 tent. Then my vision was changed; for it was 
 now the first dawning of a summer morning, and 
 we were crossing a mountain-side, until we stood 
 over a pleasant valley, green with fields, and 
 bright with many flowering trees, and gay flowers 
 growing in little gardens, round thatched cottages, 
 
 104
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 from the chimneys of one or two of which the 
 grey-blue smoke was just rising, straight and still, 
 into the clear morning air. 
 
 Then methought my guide cast on my shoulders 
 a beautiful mantle, and straightway we stood 
 within one of the cottages, unseen by those 
 around us. We were in an upper room, which 
 was clean and sweet ; for the window was open 
 in the thatched roof, and honeysuckle and sweet 
 roses hung in bunches by it. There were two 
 beds in the room, and one little cradle ; and the 
 clothes on the bed were very coarse and rough, 
 and mended, but all clean and neat and white. 
 In the cradle slept a beautiful babe, and as its 
 little hands were crossed over its breast, I could 
 see that it wore such a tiny ring as had been 
 put upon the children in the tent. In one of the 
 beds lay a little child asleep, and his arm hung 
 down from the bed, and I saw the ring upon his 
 hand. On the side of the bed sat a woman ; 
 I thought I had seen her before, so I looked 
 again all the closer, and I knew that it was the 
 same that I had seen in the tent, offering up her 
 two children with joy to be the servants of the 
 king. Then I looked for her ring ; it was safe 
 upon her hand, and sparkling brighter than ever. 
 By her stood a little boy, just cleanly washed and 
 dressed, though his clothes were rough and poor. 
 
 105
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 I looked into the little one's face, and I saw it 
 was the same child which had been led by the 
 hand in the tent ; but it seemed as if two or 
 three years had passed by since then, for he was 
 grown now into a boy. His mother was speaking 
 to him. She told him that he was the king's 
 servant, nay, his child. She told him that when 
 he was little, she and his father had given him to 
 serve the king, and she said how good it was of 
 the king to take such children to be his. Then 
 she bade him ask the king's help that he might 
 faithfully serve him that very day. 
 
 So the little fellow looked up with a mild face, 
 bent his bare knees, and raised his hands which 
 he had folded together, while he spoke as his 
 mother taught him. And as he put up his hands, 
 I could see his ring. There it was, safe upon 
 his finger, and it was just beginning to sparkle, 
 so that any one could mark it. 
 
 Then methought my guide touched me again, 
 and we stood in another cottage. It was some- 
 thing larger than the last, and the things that 
 were in it were not so coarse as those I had 
 just seen. But although they were finer, they 
 did not please me as well, for they were dirty 
 and all unmended. 
 
 There stood in the room we were in a woman 
 whose face I had seen before. I cast about, until 
 
 io6
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 I bethought me that she was one of the careless 
 ones on whom the king's minister had looked 
 very sadly, and to whom he had spoken words 
 of warning when she came with her husband and 
 her children to be entered in the king's book. 
 By her side stood a boy who had then been 
 with her; bigger he was than the little one in 
 the cottage we had just left; but there was 
 no sparkling light on his ring ; and alas ! when 
 I looked at it nearer, 1 could see that it was 
 moved far from where it had been put upon his 
 finger. His mother had just taken him up, and 
 was dressing him ; and I heard her say that 
 he was " an idle boy," and in a rough voice she 
 bid him "be quick"; and then she hurried him 
 downstairs, and never asked help of the king 
 herself nor bid him ask for it either ; and when 
 she raised her hand to open the latch of the door, 
 I saw that her ring was quite dull, and nearer off 
 her finger than that of the poor boy. 
 
 My heart was very sad at such a sight, and 
 whilst I was musing on it, my guide asked me, 
 "Wouldst thou see yet more?" When I said 
 " Yes," he led me forth, and lo ! it was mid-day, 
 and we stood upon the village green, and the 
 boys of the village were playing around us ; but 
 they saw us not, because the invisible mantle was 
 on me. Then I saw, amongst the rest, the two 
 
 107
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 boys I had seen in the morning, but I marked 
 no difference between them, for they sported and 
 played about hke the rest. 
 
 Then the man took from under his cloak 
 a wonderful glass, and he bade me look through 
 it at the boys as they played. Now the glass 
 made hidden things plain ; for as soon as I looked 
 through it, I saw around the boys that the air 
 was full of ugly and venomous creatures, who 
 were the king's enemies. As I looked at them 
 through the glass, it seemed as if their names 
 were written upon them, and I could read on one, 
 " bad thoughts," and on another, " peevishness," 
 and on another, "anger," and on another, "bad 
 words," and on another, " deceit," and on another, 
 " greediness," and on the most hateful-looking 
 of all, which had a long venomous tongue and 
 a slimy nature, I could read the word "lie." 
 Then I saw that these were very busy amongst 
 the boys as they played, that they came near 
 to them, and "anger" would push one boy 
 against another, to make them quarrel ; and 
 "bad thoughts" would fly there directly, and 
 bring "bad words" with them, and they would 
 all hover about them, and help on the quarrel, 
 without the boys seeing or knowing they were 
 there. I saw " greediness," too, lead some of the 
 boys near to fruit-trees, on which hung rich and 
 
 1 08
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 ripe fruit, which they had been told not to touch, 
 and then "deceit" would whisper to them that 
 nobody would know it, though they should take 
 a little. Then I watched to see how the boys 
 behaved, and I saw the little one whose ring was 
 dull in the morning, take of the forbidden fruit, 
 and eat, and then listen to the words of the 
 wicked "deceit"; and then the hateful "lie" 
 came close to him, and I saw it curl all round 
 the little boy's heart, and his ring got deader 
 and deader, and seemed ready to fall from his 
 finger. Then I saw him offer some of the fruit 
 to the other little one I had seen in the morning. 
 But he shook his head, and drove "greediness" 
 away, and would not hear a word that "deceit" 
 wanted to whisper ; for he said, " I must not tell 
 a lie, and take what is forbidden me, for I am 
 the king's child, and the king sees all I do." 
 I saw that as he named " the king," the hateful 
 creatures fled away, and his ring seemed firmer 
 than ever on his finger, and began to shine and 
 sparkle the brighter. So then I knew how even 
 little children could serve the king, and fight 
 against his enemies. 
 
 Then again my guide touched me, and he 
 said, "Follow me"; so I followed him forth, and 
 we soon stood in the midst of a great city, 
 and we passed along its crowded streets. Houses 
 
 109
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 were on this side, and houses on that ; and the 
 clear air was made thick with the smoke of 
 chimneys, and the dust of the streets, but still 
 my guide led me on and on. At last we came 
 to a narrower and more dirty street. Tall old 
 houses, which looked ready to fall, almost touched 
 one another over the narrow road. Dirty children, 
 who looked pale and wretched, screamed in many 
 of the rooms, or sat in a sad sort of sorrowful 
 play, on the dirty steps of the houses ; and dirty 
 men and women talked loud, and I heard many 
 bad words as I walked along. By one of the 
 dirtiest and worst of all the houses my guide 
 stopped, and we stood within it. No one saw us, 
 for the mantle was on me ; and oh, what a sad 
 sight did I see ! There were many in the room, 
 for a whole family lived in it, and they were 
 wicked people; bad words came out of their 
 mouths as often as they spoke, and they quarrelled 
 and almost fought, and looked as though they 
 hated one another. And now I saw that there 
 was in one corner of this room, near to a broken 
 window, a sad-looking bed, in which lay a poor 
 sick boy, who seemed about ten years old. He 
 was very pale and very thin, and there was a 
 bright red spot upon his cheek, and he coughed 
 very often, and seemed in pain. His face was 
 turned towards the window, and his eyes were 
 
 no
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 bent down upon the bed. As I leaned over to 
 see what he looked at, I saw he was reading in 
 a book, and heard him whisper to himself the 
 words, " Forsake me not when my strength faileth 
 me." Then I saw that it was in the king's book 
 that he was reading, and I heard that he was 
 speaking to the king, and asking HIM to keep 
 him ; and 1 saw that his ring was so bright and 
 sparkling, it seemed like a little ball of living 
 fire. Then my guide bade me look through the 
 glass ; and what a sight did I see ! All round 
 his bed I could see beautiful forms of heavenly 
 creatures, which the king had sent to watch 
 over him. "Promises" were there with kind 
 eyes and soft voices whispering ever in his ears. 
 "Patience" held his aching head in her lap, and 
 "Hope" was holding a bright crown just over 
 his head, and telling him how soon he would be 
 able to wear it. 
 
 Oh, how sad was it to turn round from the 
 happy bed of the dying child, to the rest of that 
 sinful room ! — to look on the dark faces of evil 
 men and women, and to hear their evil words, 
 instead of looking at the mild glad faces of the 
 angel-friends of the little one, and catching the 
 soft words with which they cheered his soul! 
 But my guide bade me mark these people well ; 
 and I saw that all their rings were dull — dull as 
 
 III
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 if they were dead, and well-nigh off their fingers. 
 More than one seemed to have lost their rings 
 altogether, and one I heard boasting that he 
 never had been happy till he had thrown his 
 away ; but when I looked at him through the 
 glass, I saw " Misery," and " Sorrow," and 
 " Hatred" sucking his heart's blood, and the 
 dreadful face of "Despair" coming nigher and 
 nigher to him every moment. 
 
 And now I thought within myself, how can 
 the child of such parents have learned to serve 
 the king faithfully? My guide answered my 
 thoughts, and he told me that " once his ring 
 too had seemed dead and well-nigh taken from 
 his finger ; but it pleased the king to send a holy 
 man to warn him, and he gave to him the book 
 you have seen him read : and there came with 
 it a sweet air from the king's presence which 
 'bloweth where it listeth,' and the boy began to 
 read in the book and love it. And as he read 
 he learned to call to the king earnestly for help ; 
 and then his ring began to settle on his finger, 
 and the shining of the stone to come out — and 
 now look at him again, and see his happiness 
 in sorrow." 
 
 Then I looked again through the glass, and 
 more was showed me than before. But a little 
 above his bed methought there was a golden
 
 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 
 
 door, not wholly closed. And I could see within 
 it a light more beautiful than sunshine, which 
 came from a throne whose lowest golden steps 
 I could see, and on the top of which, as I doubted 
 not, sat the great king himself. Hundreds and 
 thousands of beautiful and happy creatures were 
 there. Some I took for angels, and some me- 
 thought had once been men and women. But 
 all wore shining crowns, and all were blessed 
 and happy. 
 
 Then as I gazed, methought the door opened 
 wider, and I saw the gentlest of all those heavenly 
 beings fly down to the sick boy's bed ; and 
 " Mercy" was written on her brow. She stretched 
 out her hand, and he arose, and flew up with 
 them to the golden door ; and I could hear a 
 burst of happy music as they entered, and I saw 
 a bright crown reached out. And the face of 
 the dead boy (for I looked into his bed, and he 
 breathed no more) shone with the bright light 
 of that heavenly temple ! 
 
 Then I awoke from my vision ; but my 
 thoughts still stayed with me, and I saw how 
 good it was to be the soldier of the king, and 
 to fight his battles faithfully.
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER PARABLES 
 
 "Feed my lambs." — St John xxi. 15. 
 
 NOTE TO THE PRESENT EDITION. 
 
 "The Rocky Island, and other Parables" was begun 
 in January, 1840, and published towards the close of 
 that year. This second book was not received with such 
 unanimous favour as the first, and the author became 
 the object of accusations which he deeply resented 
 {Life, vol. i. pp. 158, 215 foil.). It has never had 
 quite the same popularity as "Agathos," but it has 
 even more of the author's ease and grace of stjde, 
 and of his skill in representing character. Perhaps 
 if he had not published the questions and answers 
 which followed the stories, and which are omitted in 
 this reprint, the little book would have met with 
 fewer objections. 
 
 A. J. M. 
 115
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE advertisement to a work of a similar 
 character to the present expresses the author's 
 principle and wishes as to this little volume. It 
 is constructed on the same plan, and, like the 
 former, has had the test of the observations of 
 his own children on its parables before it was 
 given to the public. The reception of "Agathos" 
 has shown that many parents have felt the want 
 which these little volumes are intended to supply, 
 and leads the author to hope that he has in some 
 measure been able to meet it. 
 
 It is a peculiar gratification to him to be able 
 thus to enter many a Christian household, and 
 fulfil, in some measure, his Master's charge, 
 " Feed my lambs." 
 
 May it please God to give His blessing to 
 this new attempt. 
 
 S. W 
 
 Winchester. 
 
 ii6
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 I SAW in my dream a rough rocky island 
 rising straight out of the midst of a roaring sea. 
 In the midst of the island rose a black steep 
 mountain ; dark clouds rested gloomily upon its 
 top ; and into the midst of the clouds it cast 
 forth ever and anon red flames, which lit them 
 up like the thick curling smoke at the top of a 
 furnace-chimney. Peals of loud thunder sounded 
 constantly from these thick clouds ; and now and 
 then angry lightning shot its forked tongue, white, 
 and red, and blue, from the midst of them, and 
 fell upon the rocks, or the few trees which just 
 clung to their sides, splitting them violently 
 down, and scattering the broken and shivered 
 pieces on all sides. It was a sad, dreary-looking 
 island at the first view, and I thought that no 
 one could dwell in it ; but as I looked closer at 
 its shores, I saw that they were covered with 
 children at play. A soft white sand formed its 
 beach, and there these children played. I saw 
 no grown people among them ; but the children 
 were all busy — some picking up shells ; some 
 playing with the bright-coloured berries of a 
 
 117
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 prickly dwarf-plant which grew upon those sands ; 
 some watching the waves as they ran up and 
 then fell back again on that shore ; some run- 
 ning after the sea-birds, which ran with quick 
 light feet along the wet sand, and ever flew off, 
 skimming just along the wave-top, and uttering 
 a quick sharp note as the children came close 
 upon them. So some sported in one way, and 
 some in another, but all were busily at play. 
 Now I wondered in my dream to see these 
 children thus busy whilst the burning mountain 
 lay close behind them, and the thunder made 
 the air ring. 
 
 Sometimes, indeed, when it shone out redder 
 and fiercer than usual, or when the thunder 
 seemed close over their heads, the children 
 would be startled for a little while, and run to- 
 gether, and cry, and scream ; but very soon it 
 was all forgotten, and they were as full of their 
 sports as ever. 
 
 While I was musing upon this, I saw a man 
 appear suddenly amongst the children. He was 
 of a noble and kingly countenance, and yet so 
 gentle withal that there was not a child of them 
 all who seemed afraid to look in his face, or to 
 listen to his kind voice when he opened his 
 mouth, for soon I found that he was speaking 
 to them. " My dear children," I heard him say, 
 Ii8
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 "you will all be certainly killed, if you stay 
 upon this rocky island. Here no one ever grows 
 up happily. Here all play turns into death ; the 
 burning mountain and the forked lightning, ana 
 the dreadful breath of the hill-storm — these sweep 
 down over all that stay here, and slay them all ; 
 and if you stay here, for these childish pleasures 
 of yours, you will all perish." 
 
 Then the children grew very grave, and they 
 gazed one upon another, and all looked up into 
 the face of the man to see if he spoke in earnest. 
 They saw directly that he did, for that kind face 
 looked full of care as well as of love : so from 
 him they looked out upon the waves of the sea, 
 and one whispered to another, " Where shall we 
 go? how shall we ever get over that sea.'' we 
 can never swim across it ; had we not better go 
 back, and play and be happy, until the time 
 comes for us to die?" 
 
 " No," said the man, looking round kindly 
 upon them all ; " you cannot swim over ; you 
 never could get over of yourselves : but you 
 need not stay here and die ; for I have found 
 a way of escape for you. Follow me, and you 
 shall see it." 
 
 So I saw that he led them round a high 
 rough rock, to where the calm waves of the 
 sea ran up into a little bay, upon the white sand 
 
 119
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 of which only a gentle ripple broke with a very 
 pleasant sound. This bay was full of boats, 
 small painted boats, with just room in each for 
 one person, with a small rudder to guide them 
 at the stern, and a little sail as white as snow, 
 and over all a flag, on which a bright red cross 
 was flapping in the gentle sea-breeze. 
 
 Then, when the children saw these beautiful 
 boats, they clapped their little hands together 
 for very joy of heart. But the man spoke to 
 them again and said : " You will all have a deep, 
 and dangerous, and stormy sea to pass over in 
 these little boats. They will carry you quite 
 safely, if you are careful to do just as I bid you, 
 for then neither the wind nor the sea can harm 
 them ; but they will bear you safely over the 
 foaming waves to a bright and beautiful land- 
 to a country where there is no burning mountain, 
 and no angry lightning, and no bare rocks, and 
 no blasting hill-storm ; but where there are trees 
 bearing golden fruits by the side of beautiful 
 rivers, into which they sweep their green boughs. 
 There the trees are always green, and the leaves 
 ever fresh. There the fruit ripens every month, 
 and the very leaves upon the trees are healing. 
 There is always glad and joyful light. There 
 are happy children who have passed this sea ; 
 and there are others who have grown old full of
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 happiness ; there are some of your fathers, and 
 mothers, and brothers, and sisters ; and there am 
 I ever present to keep and to comfort you." 
 
 Then all the children were for jumping into 
 the boats, and he was kindly ready to help them, 
 only he put each one in carefully and slowly ; 
 and as he put him in, he gave him his charge. 
 He told them that they must never look round 
 to this island they were leaving, but must be 
 always setting their faces towards the happy 
 land they sought for. He told them that they 
 must leave behind them all the shells and the 
 berries which had pleased them here, for if they 
 tried to take these with them in their boats, 
 some accident would certainly befall them. Then 
 some of the children, when they heard all this, 
 drew secretly away, and ran round the point, 
 and gave up the boats and the sea, and began 
 their old idle play again. And some of them, 
 I thought, hid the shells and the berries they 
 had got, and then jumped into the boat, pre- 
 tending they had left all behind them. 
 
 Then I saw that the man gave different 
 presents to each of them, as they seated them- 
 selves in the boat. One was a little compass 
 in a wooden box. " This," he said, " will always 
 show you which way to steer ; you are to follow 
 me, for I shall always be before you on the
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 waters ; but often when the darkness of night 
 comes on, or the thick mist seethes up from the 
 wave's brim, or the calm has fallen upon you 
 so that your boat has stood still — often at such 
 times as these you may not be able even to mark 
 my track before you : then you must look at the 
 compass, and its finger will always point true 
 and straight to where I am ; and if you will 
 follow me there you will be safe." He gave them, 
 too, a musical instrument which made a soft 
 murmuring sound when they breathed earnestly 
 into it. "And this," he said, "you must use 
 when there is a calm round you so that you 
 cannot get on, or when the waves swell into 
 a storm around you and threaten to swallow you 
 up." He gave them, too, bread and water for 
 many days. 
 
 So I saw that they all set out upon their 
 voyage, and a beautiful sight it was to look 
 upon. Their snow-white sails upon the deep 
 sea shone like stars upon the blue of the firma- 
 ment ; and now they all followed close upon the 
 leader's ship, and their little boats danced lightly 
 and joyfully over the trackless waves which 
 lifted up their breasts to waft them over : and 
 so they started. But I looked again in a little 
 while, and they were beginning to be scattered 
 very widely asunder : here and there three or 
 
 122
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 four of the boats kept well together, and fol- 
 lowed steadily in the track of the leader's vessel ; 
 then there was a long space of the sea with no 
 boat upon it at all; then came a straggler or 
 two, and then another company; and then, far 
 off on the right and on the left, were other boats, 
 which seemed to be wandering quite away from 
 the leader's path. 
 
 Now, as I watched them closer, I saw that 
 there were many different things which drew 
 them away. One I saw, soon after they started, 
 who turned back to look at the rocky island, 
 forgetting the man's command. He saw the 
 other children playing on the beach; he heard 
 their merry voices; and then looking round 
 again towards the sea, it looked rough and dark 
 before him ; and he forgot the burning mountain, 
 and the terrible thunder, and the bright happy 
 land for which he was bound, and the goodly 
 company he was in, and the kind face of the 
 kingly man; and he was like one in a dream, 
 before whose eyes all sorts of shapes and colours 
 fly, and in whose ears all sounds are ringing; 
 and he thought no more of the helm, nor watched 
 the sails ; and so the driving swell carried his 
 boat idly along with its long roll; and in a few 
 minutes more I saw it at the top of a white 
 foaming breaker, and then he and it were dashed 
 
 123
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 down upon the rocks which girdled the sandy 
 beach, and he was seen again no more. 
 
 Then I turned my eyes to two other boats, 
 which were going fast away from the true course, 
 for no reason which I could see ; but when I 
 looked at them more closely, I saw that they 
 were in a sort of angry race; each wished to 
 get to the wind-side of the other; and they were 
 so busy thinking about this, and looking at one 
 another with angry glances, and calling out to 
 one another with angry words, that they forgot 
 to look for the leader's ship, or to watch the 
 finger of the compass ; and so they were going 
 altogether wide of the track along which they 
 should have passed. 
 
 Then I looked closely at another, which was 
 shooting quite away in another direction; and I 
 saw that the poor child had left the rudder, and 
 was playing with something in the bottom of the 
 boat ; and as I looked nearer in it, I saw that it 
 was with some of the bright berries of the rocky 
 island which he had brought with him that he 
 was so foolishly busy. 
 
 Foolish, indeed, he was ; and kind had been 
 the warning of the man who bade them leave 
 all these behind ; for whilst I was watching him, 
 and wondering what would be the end of such 
 a careless voyage, I saw his little boat strike 
 
 124
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 suddenly upon a hidden rock, which broke a 
 hole in its wooden sides, and the water rusliCd 
 in, and the boat began to sink, and there was 
 no help near, and the poor boy was soon drowned 
 in the midst of the waves. 
 
 Then I turned sadly away to watch the boats 
 which were following their leader; and here, 
 too, I saw strange things; for though the sea 
 when looked at from afar seemed just alike to 
 all, yet when I watched any one, I saw that he 
 had some difficulties, and some frights, and some 
 helps of his own, which I did not see the others 
 have. 
 
 Sometimes it would fall all at once quite dark, 
 like a thick night, all round a boat , and if he 
 that was in it could hear the voice of a com- 
 panion near him for a little while, that gladdened 
 him greatly; and then oftentimes all sound of 
 voices died away, and all was dark, still, deep 
 night, and he knew not where to steer. Now if, 
 when this fell upon him, the child went straight 
 to his compass, and looked close upon it in spite 
 of the darkness, there came always a faint 
 flashing light out of the darkness, which played 
 just over the compass, so as to shew him its 
 straight blue finger, if he saw no more ; and 
 then, if he took up his musical instrument, and 
 blew into it, though the thickness of the heavy 
 
 125
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 air seemed at first to drown its sound, yet, after 
 awhile, if he was but earnest, I could hear its 
 sweet murmuring sound begin ; and then directly 
 the child lost his fears, and did not want company ; 
 sweet echoes of his music talked with his spirit 
 out of the darkness, and within a little time the 
 gloom would lift itself quite up again, or melt 
 away into the softest light: and lo! he had got 
 far on his voyage even in this time of darkness, 
 so that sometimes he could see the beloved form 
 just before him; and at times even the wooded 
 shore of the happy land would lift itself up, and 
 shine on his glad eyes, over the level brim of 
 the silver sea. 
 
 From another boat it would seem that the 
 very air of the heaven died away. There it lay, 
 like a painted sail in a picture — the snow-white 
 canvas drooping lazily, or flapping to and fro, 
 as the long dull swell heaved up the boat, and 
 let it sink again into the trough of the waves : 
 other boats, but a little way off, would sail by 
 with a full breeze; but he could not move; his 
 very flag showed no sign of life. Now if the 
 little sailor took to amusing himself when this 
 happened, it seemed to me that there he lay, 
 and would lie, till the dark night overtook him, 
 and parted him from all his company. But if, 
 instead of this, he took up his musical instru- 
 
 125
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 ment, and played upon it with all his earnestness, 
 its soft breath, as it whispered to the wind, soon 
 woke up its gentle sighing; the long flag lifted 
 itself up; the blood-red cross waved over the 
 water ; the snowy sails swelled out, and the little 
 boat danced on along its joyful way. 
 
 I noticed also that before those boats which 
 
 were passing on the fastest, the sea would every 
 
 now and then look very dark and threatening. 
 
 Great waves would seem to lift their white heads 
 
 just before them; whilst everywhere else the sea 
 
 looked calm and enticing. Then the little sailor 
 
 would strain his eye after his master's course, 
 
 or look down at the faithful compass ; and by 
 
 both of these sure signs he saw that his way 
 
 lay straight through these threatening waves. 
 
 Well was it for him if, with a bold heart and 
 
 a faithful hand, he steered right into them. For 
 
 always did I see, that just as he got where it 
 
 seemed to be most dangerous, the tossing waves 
 
 sank, as if to yield him an easy passage ; the 
 
 wind favoured him more than at any part of 
 
 his voyage ; and he got on in the right way 
 
 faster than ever before. Especially was this so, 
 
 if at first he was somewhat tossed, and yet held 
 
 straight on ; for then he shot into a glassy calm, 
 
 where tide and wind bore him steadily along into 
 
 the desired haven. But sad was it for him if. 
 
 127
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 instead of then trusting to the compass, he 
 steered for the smoother water. One or two 
 such trembling sailors I especially observed. 
 One of them had long been saiHng with the 
 foremost boats; he had met with less darkness, 
 fewer mists or troubled places, than the boats 
 around him ; and when he saw the white crests 
 of the threatening waves lift up their strength 
 before him, his heart began to sink ; and after 
 wavering for a moment, he turned his little boat 
 aside to seek the calmer water. Through it he 
 seemed to be gliding on most happily, when all 
 at once his little boat struck upon a hidden 
 sand-bank, and was fixed so firmly on its side, 
 that it could not get afloat again. I saw not 
 his end ; but I sadly feared that when next the 
 sea wrought with a troubled motion, and the 
 surf broke upon that bank, his little boat must 
 soon be shivered, and he perish in the waves. 
 
 The other who turned aside followed closely 
 after him ; for this was one thing which I noted 
 through all the voyage. Whenever one boat 
 went astray, some thoughtless follower or other 
 would forget his compass to sail after the un- 
 happy wanderer; and it often happened that 
 these followers of others went the farthest wrong 
 of any. So it was in this case; for when the 
 first boat struck upon the sand-bank, the other, 
 
 123
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 thinking to escape it, bore still farther off ; and 
 so chancing to pass just where the shoal ended, 
 and an unruly current swept by its farthest edge, 
 the boat was upset in a moment, and the poor 
 child in it drowned. 
 
 And now I turned to three or four boats 
 which had kept together from the time they left 
 the harbour. Few were forwarder than they ; 
 few had smoother water or more prosperous 
 gales. I could see, when I looked close into 
 their faces, that they were all children of one 
 family ; and that all the voyage through they 
 were helping, cheering, and directing one an- 
 other. As I watched their ways, I noticed this, 
 too, which seemed wonderful. If one of them 
 had got into some trouble with its tackle, and 
 the others stayed awhile to help it, and to bring it 
 on its way, instead of losing ground by this their 
 kindness, they seemed all to make the greater 
 progress, and press on the farther in their course. 
 
 And now I longed to see the ending of this 
 voyage ; and so, looking on to those which were 
 most forward, I resolved to trace them to the 
 end. 
 
 Then I found that all, without exception, 
 came into a belt of storms and darkness before 
 they reached the happy land. True, it was 
 much rougher and more dark with some than 
 
 M. .129 9
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 others; but to every one there was a deep night 
 and a troubled sea. I saw, too, that when they 
 reached this place, they were always parted one 
 from another. Even those which had kept most 
 close together all the voyage before, until just 
 upon the edge of this dark part, they, like the 
 rest, were scattered here, and toiled on awhile 
 singly and alone. 
 
 They seemed to me to fare the best who 
 entered on it with the fullest sails, and had 
 kept hitherto the straightest course. Indeed, 
 as a common rule, I found this always true — 
 that those who had watched the compass, and 
 held the rudder, and cheered themselves with 
 the appointed music, and eaten the master's 
 bread, and steered straight after him, they 
 passed through this cloud and darkness easily 
 and swiftly. 
 
 Next to these were those who sought most 
 earnestly to cheer its horrors with the sound 
 of their appointed music. The Lord of these 
 seas, indeed, had many ways of cheering his 
 followers. Even in the thickest of that darkness 
 his face of beaming love would look out upon 
 them ; and he seemed nearer to them then than 
 he had done heretofore through all their voyage. 
 
 Then, moreover, it was never long, and bright 
 light lay beyond it. For they passed straight 
 
 130
 
 THE ROCKY ISLAND 
 
 out of it into the haven where they would be. 
 Sweet sounds broke upon their glad ears even 
 as they left that darkness. A great crowd of 
 happy children — parents who had gone before 
 them — friends whom they had loved, and holy 
 persons whose names they had long known — 
 these all lined the banks, waiting to receive and 
 welcome them. Amidst these moved up and 
 down shining forms of beautiful beings, such 
 as the children's eyes had seen only in some 
 happy dream ; and they, too, were their friends ; 
 they, too, waited for them on the bank ; they, 
 too, welcomed them with singing, and bore the 
 happy new-comer with songs of triumph into the 
 shining presence of the merciful King. Then, 
 on the throne royal, and with the glorious crown 
 upon his head, they saw the same kind face of 
 gentle majesty which had looked upon them 
 when they played on the shores of that far 
 rocky isle. They heard again the voice which 
 had bid them fly the burning mountain. They 
 saw him who had taken them into his convoy; 
 who had given them their boats ; who had been 
 near them in the storm ; who had given them 
 light in the darkness ; who had helped them in 
 the dull calm ; who had never left them ; but who 
 had kept and guided them across the ocean, and 
 who now received them to his never-ending rest. 
 
 13
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE 
 STATES 
 
 I SAW, in my vision, two glorious creatures 
 walking together through a beautiful garden. 
 I thought at first they must be angels, so bright 
 and happy did they seem. The garden, also, in 
 which they were, seemed too beautiful for earth. 
 Every flower which I had ever seen, and numbers 
 which my eye had never looked upon, grew in 
 abundance round them. They walked, as it were, 
 upon a carpet of flowers. The breeze was quite 
 full of the rich scent which arose from them. The 
 sun shone upon them with a brightness such as 
 I had never seen before ; whilst the air sparkled 
 with the beautiful butterflies and winged things • 
 which flew here and there, as if to show how i 
 happy they were. 
 
 All through the garden, too, I saw every sorti 
 of beast, in all its natural grace and beauty ; and 
 all at peace. Great lions moved about amongst 
 tender sheep ; and striped tigers lay down quietly 
 to sleep amongst the dappled fawns which sported 
 around them. But, amidst all these beautifu'
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 sights, my eyes followed, more than all, the two 
 glorious forms which were walking together with 
 such a kingly majesty through the happy garden : 
 they were, truly, I could see, beings of this earth ; 
 they were talking to each other ; they were speak- 
 ing of One who had made them out of the dust 
 of the earth ; who had given to them living souls ; 
 who was their Father and their Friend ; who had 
 planted for them this beautiful garden, and made 
 them the rulers of all that was in it. 
 
 Now I marked them as they talked, and I 
 
 could see that their eyes were often turned from 
 
 all the beauty round them towards one far end 
 
 of the garden ; and as I watched them, I saw 
 
 that they were still passing on towards it. Then 
 
 I also fixed my eyes there, and in a while I could 
 
 see that, at the end of the garden to which they 
 
 were moving, there was a bright light, brighter 
 
 and purer than the light of the sun ; and I thought 
 
 ■■ that in it I could see here and there heavenly 
 
 i forms moving up and down, flying upon silver 
 
 I wings, or borne along upon the light breath of 
 
 ! the sunny air. But as I strained my eyes to 
 
 ■ pierce into it, it seemed to dazzle and confound 
 
 them by its great lustre. Then again I heard 
 
 ' the words of the two ; and they spake of what 
 
 was before them ; of the bright light, and the 
 
 heavenly forms ; and I found that they were only 
 
 133
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 travellers through this beautiful garden ; that the 
 King who had placed them in it dwelt in that 
 light, the brightness of which had so confounded 
 my gaze ; that they were on their way to his 
 presence, and that when they reached it, they 
 should be happy for ever ; even as those shining 
 spirits were already, whose golden figures I had 
 been just able to discover. 
 
 Now, whilst I was pondering upon these 
 things, and casting my eyes round and round 
 this beautiful garden, I heard all at once a most 
 terrible sound, as of thunder, such as man's ears 
 had never heard. I looked up, and the bright 
 light at the end of the garden seemed to turn 
 itself into an angry fire, and to flash red and 
 threatening through thick black clouds, which 
 were forming thernselves into terrible shapes all 
 over the garden. Then I looked for the two that 
 I had seen before : I could just see them ; sorrow 
 sat upon their faces, and fear made them deadly 
 pale ; a serpent was gliding from them into the 
 bushes ; and their eyes were fixed upon the air, 
 as though voices, which I heard not, were speak- 
 ing terrible things to their inner ears. Then, as 
 I looked, it grew darker and darker — the thunder 
 pealed all round me — cries came forth from every 
 hill, as of fierce and deadly beasts in wild dreadful 
 fight. The flowers round me were withering up, 
 
 134
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 as if a burning blight had passed over them ; and 
 soon it was all dark, and dreary, and desolate. 
 
 Then, when my heart was very heavy within 
 me, methought there stood by me one of the 
 forms of light whom I had seen at the garden's 
 end ; and my knees smote together through fear 
 of his glory; but he looked upon me kindly, and 
 spoke to me in a voice of pity, and he said, 
 " Wouldst thou see the end of this sight ? " Then 
 my heart gathered courage, and I told him that 
 if it were lawful, I would indeed fain look upon it. 
 
 With that he lifted me, and we flew through 
 the air, and I knew not where he had borne me ; 
 but in a while he set me on my feet, and bade 
 me look right down beneath me. Then I looked 
 down at his word, but could see nothing. My 
 eyes seemed to rest upon the thick mantle of the 
 night, and they could not pierce through it. Now, 
 while I was striving to look into that darkness, 
 strange noises rose from it to my ears. All sounds 
 that ever were, came up from it, so mingled to- 
 gether that I could not say what they were — 
 whether it were a groan, or a cry, or a roaring, 
 or music, or shouting, or the voice of anger or 
 of sorrow ; for all of these seemed joined together 
 into one ; but the groaning was louder than the 
 laughing, and the voice of crying well-nigh 
 drowned the music. Then I asked my guide 
 
 135
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 what was this strange noise ; and he told me that 
 it was the voice of all the world, as it rose up 
 to the ears of those that were on high. Then 
 I begged of him, if it might be, to let me see 
 those from whom it came. With that he touched 
 my eyes ; and now methought, though the dark- 
 ness remained, that I could see in the midst of 
 its thickness, even as in the brightness of the day. 
 It was a strange place into which I looked. 
 Instead of the beautiful garden I had seen before, 
 and two glorious creatures passing through it, 
 now I saw a multitude of men, women, and 
 children, passing on through a waste and desolate 
 wilderness. Here and there, indeed, there were 
 still flowery spots, but they were soon trodden 
 down by the feet of those who passed along. 
 Strange, too, were their steps. Now, instead of 
 passing straight on, they moved round and round, 
 for they were all in the black darkness. The 
 ground was full of pitfalls, in the low bottoms of 
 which I could see red fire burning fierce and hot, 
 and one after another fell over into these pitfalls, 
 and I saw them no more. Evil beasts, too, moved 
 amongst them, slaying one, and tearing another ; 
 and as if this was not enough, oftentimes they 
 would quarrel and fight with one another, until 
 the ground all around was covered with their 
 bodies strewed upon it. 
 
 136
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 Yet for all this, some would sing and dance, 
 and frolic ; and this seemed to me to be the 
 saddest of all, for they were like madmen ; and 
 mad in truth they were, for in the midst of their 
 dancing and their singing one and another would 
 get near the side of some great pitfall, and step 
 over into its flames, even with the song upon their 
 lips. 
 
 In vain did I strain my eyes to see any light 
 at the end, as I had seen it in the garden. If it 
 was there, the black clouds had rolled over it so 
 thick and dark that not a ray of it was left. 
 
 Yet I heard one and another offering to lead 
 those that would follow them safely through this 
 terrible wilderness ; and such men never wanted 
 followers : so 1 watched many of these leaders, 
 to see what they would do for those that trusted 
 them. Little help could any of them render. 
 Some put their followers on a path which led 
 straight down into the deepest and most frightful 
 pitfalls ; some set them on a path which wandered 
 round and round, and brought them at the end 
 back to the same place from which they started ; 
 some led them into thorny places, where the poor 
 pilgrims pierced their bleeding feet with many a 
 wound : but not one did I see who brought them 
 into any better place, or took them any nearer 
 to their journey's end. 
 
 137
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 How they found their way at all was at first 
 my wonder. But as I looked more closely, I saw 
 in all their hands little lanterns, which just threw 
 a feeble light upon the darkness round them. 
 These were always brightest in the young, for 
 they soon grew very dim ; and the falls and blows 
 they met with bruised and shattered them so 
 much, that some had hardly any glimmering left, 
 even of the feeble light which they had seemed 
 to cast of old. 
 
 I looked at them until my heart was very 
 sad, for there was no peace, no safety, no hope ; 
 but all went heavily and sadly, groaning and 
 weeping, or laughing like madmen, until, sooner 
 or later, they seemed all to perish in the fearful 
 pitfalls ! 
 
 Then my angel-guide spoke to me again, 
 marking my sadness, and he said, " Hast thou 
 well observed this sight?" and I answered, "Yes." 
 Then he said, "And wouldst thou see more.?" 
 So when I had said "Yes," methought we were 
 flying again through the air, until again he set 
 me on my feet, and bid me look down. Now 
 here, too, strange noises reached my ears ; but 
 as I listened to them, methought there were mixed 
 with them such sounds as I had not heard before. 
 Sweet clear voices came up now from the din, 
 speaking, as it were from one close by me, words 
 
 138
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 of faith, and of hope, and of love ; and they 
 sounded to me like the happy talking which I had 
 heard at the first between the glorious beings in 
 the garden. 
 
 So when my guide touched my eyes, I bent 
 them eagerly down into the darkness below me. 
 
 At first I thought that it was the same place 
 I had seen last, for there was a busy multitude 
 passing to and fro ; and there were music and 
 dancing, and sobbing and crying; there were 
 pitfalls, too, and wild beasts. But as I looked 
 closer, I saw that, in spite of all this, it was not 
 the place that I had seen before. Even at a 
 glance I could see that there were many more 
 flowers here than there ; and that many amongst 
 the pilgrims were going straight on, with happy 
 faces, by a road which passed safely by all the 
 pitfalls. I could see, too, that at the end of the 
 road was a dim shining of that happy light which 
 had been so bright in the beautiful garden. 
 
 Now, as I looked, I saw that there were but a 
 few who kept to this straight safe road, and that 
 many were scattered all over the plain, I saw 
 many leave this path even as I looked upon it ; 
 and very few did I see come back to it : those 
 who did, seemed to me to find it very hard to get 
 into it again : whether it was that its sides were 
 slippery, or its banks so steep, many fainted and 
 
 139
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 gave up, after trying to climb into it again. But 
 it seemed quite easy to leave it ; for every one 
 who left it went on at first lightly and pleasantly. 
 Sometimes, indeed, they seemed greatly startled 
 after taking their first step out of it, and some 
 of them turned straight back, and after a few 
 struggles, more or less, such always got into it 
 again. But if once after this first check they set 
 out for the plain, they seemed to go easily along, 
 until their path lay straight by the den of some 
 destroying beast, or led them into the midst of 
 the pitfalls, where they wholly lost their reckon- 
 ing, and knew not how to get on, or how to get 
 back. 
 
 I saw, too, after a while, that they had got 
 lanterns in their hands, some of which gave a 
 great deal of light. . Those which were carried 
 along the narrow path shot out bright rays on all 
 sides, until towards the end they quite blazed 
 with light, I could see, too, that these travellers 
 had some way of trimming and dressing their 
 lamps ; and that much of their light seemed to 
 come from an open book which they carried in 
 their hands, from the leaves of which there flashed 
 out continually streams of light, which made their 
 lamps burn so brightly that all their road shone 
 with it. But as they got further and further from 
 the path, their lamps began to burn dim. All 
 
 140
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 these travellers, too, had the book of light closed ; 
 or if they now and then opened it, they shut it up 
 again, some carelessly, and some as if its light 
 frightened them ; and not one could I see who 
 stopped to trim his light : so that just when 
 they got amongst the pitfalls, and wanted Hght 
 the most, they were all the most nearly in 
 darkness. 
 
 Now, when I had looked at them for a space, 
 and wondered, my guide said to me, "Wouldst 
 thou see how they enter on this plain ? " Then 
 he took me to a fair porch, which came from the 
 wilderness I had looked upon before ; and there 
 I saw a man standing in white robes, and speak- 
 ing good words, and giving good gifts to each 
 one as he came in. There were persons coming 
 in of all nations and people, and some, too, of 
 all ages, though the greatest number were little 
 children, so small that their little hands would 
 not hold the man's gifts, and so he hung them 
 round their necks, for them to use as soon as they 
 were able. 
 
 Then I joined myself to the group, to hear 
 and see the better what was passing. The man 
 in white was speaking with a grave kind voice as 
 I came up. He told the pilgrims that the great 
 Lord of the land had built that porch, and set 
 him there to help the poor travellers, who were 
 
 141
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 before without hope or help amongst the beasts, 
 and snares, and pitfalls of the terrible wilderness ; 
 he told them that the blood of the King's own 
 son had been shed, that that porch might be 
 built ; that the King had prepared them a narrow 
 way to walk in, which led straight from that porch 
 to his own blessed presence, and that they might 
 all pass along it safely if they would ; he told 
 them that if they left that path, they would surely 
 get again amongst the pitfalls which they had 
 left in the wilderness; nay, that they would be 
 worse off than they had been even there, for that 
 there was no other porch where they could again 
 be set right, and no other place where the gifts 
 that he was giving them now could ever be got 
 any more, if they were once thrown quite away. 
 
 Then I looked to see what these gifts were. 
 I saw the man bring forth clear and sparkling 
 water, which shone as if with living light; and 
 with this he washed from them the dirt and the 
 bruises of the terrible wilderness : with this, too, 
 he touched their little lamps, and as it touched 
 them, they grew so bright and clear, that the 
 light within poured freely forth on all around 
 them. Then he looked in their faces, and gave 
 them a name, which he wrote down in the King's 
 book ; and he told them, that by this name they 
 should be known, not only by their fellow- 
 
 142
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 travellers, but that this would remain written 
 in the King's book here, unless they wholly left 
 his path ; and that every name which remained 
 written here, they would find written in another 
 book in letters of gold and of fire, when they 
 reached the other end of the path ; and that for 
 every pilgrim, whose name was written there, the 
 golden gate would open of itself, and he would 
 find a place and a crown in the presence of the 
 King. 
 
 Then, as he spoke all these glorious words, 
 my heart burned within me to see how the 
 travellers sped. 
 
 But he had not yet done with them ; for he 
 brought out of his stores a golden vial for each 
 one ; and he told them that in it the King had 
 stored the oil of light and beauty for the dressing 
 of their lamps. 
 
 Then he showed them how to use it ; not 
 carelessly or lightly, for then the oil would not 
 flow; but earnestly, and with great care; and 
 then sweet odours issued from the vial ; and the 
 flame of the lamp burned brightly and high. He 
 gave them, too, the precious light-book, which 
 I had seen ; and he bade them read in it when it 
 was dark, or the way was slippery ; and that they 
 should ever find that it was a lantern unto their 
 feet, and a light unto their paths. He put, too, 
 
 143
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 into the hand of each a trusty staff, suited to their 
 age ; and then he told them, while they leant 
 upon it, it would bear them up at many a pinch, 
 and ever grow with their growth, and strengthen 
 with their strength. "Church-truth" he called 
 these staffs ; and they were made after a marvel- 
 lous fashion, for they were as if many wands had 
 been woven together to make one ; and as I 
 looked, I could see " example," and " experience," 
 and "discipline," and "creeds," written upon 
 some of these wands, which grew together into 
 " Church-truth." 
 
 Then I longed greatly to follow forth some 
 of these whom I had seen under the porch ; and 
 as I gazed, I saw the man look earnestly into the 
 face of a fair boy who stood before him : he gave 
 him the name of "Gottlieb V and entered it in the 
 book, and put the staff in his hand, and washed 
 him with living water, and hung the vial at his 
 side, and put the banded staff into his hands ; 
 and, bidding him God-speed, set him out upon 
 his journey. 
 
 Then he looked steadily into the face of an- 
 other, and it, too, was fair to look upon ; but it 
 had not the quiet happy peace of the last. The 
 man wTote it down as "Irrgeist^" ; and I thought 
 
 ^ Love of God. - Wanderer. 
 
 144
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 a shade of sadness swept over his brow as he gave 
 to him the King's goodly gifts. 
 
 Then he sent forth a third, whose timid eye 
 seemed hardly firm enough for so long a journey ; 
 and I heard the name that was given him, and it 
 was "Furchtsam^" Close to him went another, 
 with a firm step, and an eye of steady gentleness ; 
 and I saw, by the King's book, that he bore the 
 nameof"Gehulfe2." 
 
 So these four set out upon their journey ; and 
 I followed them to see how they should fare. 
 Now, I saw that at first, when they started, they 
 were so small that they could not read in the 
 goodly book, neither could they use the golden 
 vials ; and their little banded sticks would have 
 fallen from their hands if they had not been small 
 and thin, like the first green shoots of the spring. 
 Their lamps, too, cast no light outwardly, yet still 
 they made some way upon the path ; and whilst 
 I wondered how this might be, I saw that kind 
 hands were stretched out of the darkness round 
 them, which held them up and guided them on 
 their way. 
 
 But, anon, in a while they were grown larger ; 
 and I could see Gottlieb walking on the first, and 
 his book of light was open in his hand, and his 
 
 1 Timid. 2 Help. 
 
 M. 145 10
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 lamp burned bright, for he often refreshed it with 
 oil, and he leant upon his good staff, and strode 
 along the road. 
 
 Then, as he walked on, I saw that there stood 
 upon his path a shadowy figure, as of one in 
 flowing robes, and on her head she seemed to 
 wear a chaplet of many flowers; in her hands 
 was a cup of what seemed to be crystal water, 
 and a basket of what looked like cool and refresh- 
 ing fruit. A beautiful light played all round her, 
 and half shewed her and her gifts to the boy. 
 She bid him welcome, as he came up to her ; so 
 he raised his eyes from his book, and looked to 
 see who spoke to him. Then she spoke kindly 
 to him ; and she held forth the cup towards him, 
 and asked him if he would not drink. Now, the 
 boy was hot with walking, for the air was close, 
 so he stretched out his hand to take the cup; but 
 though it seemed so near to him, he could not 
 reach it. And at the same moment she spake to 
 him again, and asked him to come where these 
 fruits grew, and where the breeze whispered 
 amongst the boughs of yonder trees — and there 
 to drink and rest, and then go on his way again. 
 Then I saw that she had power to call out of the 
 darkness the likeness of all she spoke of. So he 
 looked at the trees to which she pointed ; and the 
 sun seemed to shine around them, and the shade 
 
 146
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 looked cool and tempting under them, and the 
 pleasant breeze rustled amongst their fresh leaves ; 
 and he thought the road upon which he was 
 travelling was hotter and darker, and more tiring 
 than ever ; and he put up his hand to his burning 
 brow, and she said to him, as he lingered, "Come." 
 Now, the trees to which she pointed him lay off 
 his road, or he would gladly have rested under 
 them; and whilst he doubted what to do, he 
 looked down to the book that was open in his 
 hand ; and the light shot out upon it bright and 
 clear, and the words which he read were these, 
 "None that go unto her return again, neither 
 take they hold of the paths of life." And as 
 he read it, he looked again at the stranger ; and 
 now he could see more clearly through the wild 
 light which played around her, and he knew that 
 it was the evil enemy who stood before him ; the 
 sparkling cup, too, and the fruit, turned into 
 bitter ashes ; and the pleasant shady grass be- 
 came a thorny and a troublesome brake : so, 
 pushing by her with the help of his staff, he 
 began to mend his pace ; and looking down into 
 the book of light, there shone out, as in letters of 
 fire, " Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his 
 way? by taking heed thereto according to thy 
 word." 
 
 Then I saw that he was feeding his lamp, 
 
 147 10—2
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 which had begun to grow dim as he parleyed 
 with the tempter, and that he ceased not till it 
 streamed out as bright and as clear as ever. 
 
 But still the air was hot and sultry, and no 
 cool breath blew upon him ; and if he looked off 
 for a moment from his book, the fair form of the 
 tempter stood again beside him in silver light ; the 
 cold water sparkled close to his lips ; and trees 
 with shady boughs waving backward and forward 
 over fresh green grass, and full, in every spray, 
 of singing birds, seemed to spring up around 
 him. For a little moment his step faltered : but 
 as his lamp streamed out its light, all the vain 
 shadows passed away ; and I heard him say, as 
 he struck his staff upon the ground, " I have 
 made a covenant with my eyes"; and even as 
 she heard it the tempter passed away and left 
 him to himself. Scarcely was she gone, before 
 he passed by the door of a beautiful arbour. It 
 was strewn with the softest moss; roses and 
 honeysuckle hung down over its porch ; a bright 
 light, as from a living diamond, streamed softly 
 down from its roof; and in the midst of its 
 floor, a clear, cool, sparkling stream of the purest 
 water bubbled ever up from the deep fountain 
 below it. Now, as this lay on the road, Gottlieb 
 halted for a moment to look at it ; and the light 
 of his lamp waxed not dim, though he thus 
 
 148
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 stayed to see it ; the book of fire, too, spoke to 
 him of rest, and of halting by " pahn trees and 
 wells of water " ; and as he looked, he read in 
 letters of light over the doorway : 
 
 " Faithful pilgrim, banish fear, 
 Thou may'st enter safely here ; 
 Rest for thee thy Lord did win ; 
 Faithful pilgrim, enter in." 
 
 Then Gottlieb rejoiced greatly, and cast him- 
 self gladly upon the mossy floor, and bent down 
 his parched lips to drink of the cool spring 
 which bubbled up before him. 
 
 Now, whilst he was resting safely here, I 
 turned to see how it fared with the others who 
 had set out with him from the porch, for they 
 had not got as far as Gottlieb. 
 
 The first of them was Irrgeist; and when I 
 looked upon him he was drawing near to the 
 place where Gottlieb had fallen in with the 
 tempter. Irrgeist was walking quickly on — so 
 quickly that, at the first glance, I thought he 
 would soon be by the side of Gottlieb. But, 
 upon looking more closely, I saw that Gottlieb's 
 steps had been far more steady and even than 
 those with which Irrgeist was pressing on ; for 
 Irrgeist's lamp burned but dimly, and gave him 
 
 149
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 no sure light to walk in. Very near to the place 
 where Gottlieb had met with her, the tempter 
 stood beside Irrgeist. He was not looking at 
 his book, as the other had been ; and he did not 
 wait to be spoken to ; for as soon as he saw the 
 light which played round her figure, he began 
 to speak to her, and asked who she was. She 
 told him that her name was "Pleasure"; and 
 forthwith she shewed to him her crystal cup and 
 fruits ; and she brought before the charmed eyes 
 of the wanderer all the gay show with which she 
 had tried before to mislead the faithful Gottlieb. 
 There was the bright sunshine, and the green 
 path, and the waving trees, and the rustling of 
 the wind, and the song of birds, and the sweet 
 resting-shade. Irrgeist looked eagerly at all she 
 shewed him, and in his haste to reach out his 
 hand for the cup, he dropped altogether the 
 trusty staff of "Church-truth." Then the cup 
 seemed to draw away from him, just as it had 
 done from Gottlieb ; but he followed thought- 
 lessly after it. And soon I saw that he left the 
 path upon which he had been set ; and though 
 he started suddenly as soon as he was off it, yet 
 it was but a moment's start, — the cup was close 
 before him, the shadowy form led him on, the 
 grass was green, and the trees and the sunlight 
 but a little farther.
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 And now I saw him drink some of the en- 
 chanted water; and as he drank it, his look grew 
 wild, and his cheek burnt like the cheek of one 
 in a fever; and he walked after the deceitful 
 figure with a quicker step than ever: but I saw 
 that his lamp was almost out, that the book of 
 living light had fallen from his hands, and the 
 golden vial hung down, ready, as it seemed, to 
 fall from him altogether. 
 
 Still he walked on ; and a strange flitting 
 light, from the form which was before him, 
 lightened the darkness of the valley, so that he 
 could pass on quickly; the meadow, also, was 
 smooth and even, and there was a rustling 
 breeze, which played around him : so that he 
 got on faster than he had ever done upon the 
 narrow path, and thought that he was getting 
 well on to his journey's end. Many times did 
 he put forth his hand for the sparkling cup, and 
 drank of it again and again. 
 
 But now I saw, as I thought, a strange change 
 which was coming over him ; for he drank oftener 
 of the bowl, but appeared each time to find it 
 less refreshing. Sometimes it seemed almost 
 bitter, and yet he could not but take it the very 
 moment he had thrust it from him. The shadowy 
 form, also, before him, seemed altogether altering ; 
 he looked again, and her beautiful features and 
 
 151
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 pleasant countenance had changed into a sharp, 
 stern, and reproachful frown. His own voice, 
 which had been heretofore almost like one sing- 
 ing, grew sad and angry. The very figure of his 
 guide seemed vanishing from his eyes : the light 
 which floated round her grew wilder and more 
 uncertain, and his own lamp was almost out. 
 He felt puzzled and bewildered, and hardly 
 knew which way to go : he had got into a broad 
 beaten path, and he found that many besides 
 himself were going here and there along it. 
 ' Sometimes they sang ; and, in very grief of heart, 
 he tried to sing too, that he might not think : 
 but every now and then, when a flashing light 
 came, and he saw the look of the travellers 
 amongst whom he was, it made his very heart 
 shiver — they looked so sad and so wretched. 
 Now, none went straight on : some turned into 
 this path, some into that ; and then he soon 
 lost sight of them altogether. Sometimes he 
 heard fearful cries, as if wild beasts had seized 
 them ; sometimes a dreadful burst of flame from 
 the fearful pits which I had seen, made him fear 
 that they had fallen over into them : for poor 
 Irrgeist had got now into the midst of the deep 
 pits and the ravenous beasts. And soon he 
 found how terrible was his danger. He had 
 been following one who had made him believe 
 
 152
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 that he had light to guide his steps ; he had 
 gone with him out of the beaten path ; and they 
 were pressing on together, when Irrgeist sud- 
 denly lost sight of him in the darkness ; and 
 whether it was that he had fallen into a pit, or 
 become the prey of some evil beast, poor Irrgeist 
 knew not ; only, he found that he was more alone 
 than ever, and near to some great peril. Poor 
 Irrgeist sprang aside with all his force, thinking 
 only of the danger which he feared ; but, feeling 
 his feet slipping under him, he turned, and saw 
 that he had got upon the treacherous brink of 
 a fearful pit ; down which, at the very moment, 
 another pilgrim fell. The fierce red flames rose 
 out of it with a roar like thunder, and a blaze 
 like the mouth of a furnace ; and the wind blew 
 the flames into the face of Irrgeist, so that he 
 was singed and almost blinded by this blaze. 
 Then the poor boy called in the bitterness of 
 his heart upon Pleasure, who had led him out of 
 the way, and now had forsaken him ; but she 
 came no more — only terrible thoughts troubled 
 him ; and he heard the hissing of serpents as 
 they slid along in the bushes near him, and all 
 evil noises sounded in his ears, till he scarcely 
 knew where he was standing. Then he thought 
 of his staff, which he had dropped when Pleasure 
 had first tempted him, and he grieved that it was 
 
 153
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 gone ; and he felt in the folds of his mantle, 
 hoping that he might still have the book of light 
 within it ; for he had too often thrust it there 
 at the beginning of his journey ; but he could 
 not find it. Then he strove to get some light 
 from his httle lamp ; for, hurt as it was, he had 
 it still in his hand, and he thought there was 
 just a little blue light playing most faintly within 
 it ; but this was not enough to direct him on 
 his way, rather did it make his way more dark. 
 Then, at last, he bethought him of the golden 
 vial. Few were there of those near him but 
 had lost theirs altogether, and his hung only 
 by a single thread. But it was not gone ; and 
 when he had striven long, he just drew from it a 
 single drop of oil, and he turned his lamp, and it 
 yielded forth a little trembling light, just enough 
 to shew that it was not altogether dead. With 
 the help of this light, he saw that when he had 
 dropped his book of fire, one single leaf had 
 been torn from it, and stuck to his mantle ; so 
 he seized it eagerly, and strove to draw light 
 from it ; but all that it would yield was red and 
 angry looking light, and all that he could read 
 was, " The way of transgressors is hard." 
 
 Poor Irrgeist! he sat down almost in despair, 
 and wept as if his heart would break. " Oh, 
 that I had never trusted Pleasure ! " " Oh, that 
 
 154
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 I had never left the path!" "Oh, that I had 
 my book of Hght, and my lamp's former bright- 
 ness, and my goodly stick!" "Oh, that one 
 would lighten my darkness ! " 
 
 Then did it seem to me as if in the murmur 
 of the air around him two voices were speaking 
 to the boy. One was like the gentle voice of the 
 man whom I had seen at the porch of the valley ; 
 and it seemed to whisper "return," "return"; 
 " mercy," and " forgiveness." And then some- 
 thing like hope mixed with the bitter tears which 
 ran down the face of the wanderer. But then 
 would sound the other voice, harsh, and loud, 
 and threatening; and it said, "too late," "too 
 late," "despair," "despair," "despair." 
 
 So the poor boy was sadly torn and scattered 
 in his thoughts by these two different voices ; 
 but, methought, as he guarded his golden vial, 
 and strove to trim his dying lamp, that the 
 gentle voice became more constant, and the 
 voice of terror more dull and distant. 
 
 Then, as I was watching him, all at once the 
 boy sprang up, and he seemed to see a light 
 before him, so straight on did he walk ; many 
 crossed his path and jostled against him, but 
 he cared not ; he heard the sweet voice plainer 
 and plainer, like the soft murmuring of the 
 cushat dove in the early summer, and he would 
 
 155
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 follow where it led. Hitherto his pathway had 
 been smooth, and he had hastened along it ; 
 but this did not last, for now it narrowed almost 
 to a line, and ran straight between two horrible 
 pitfalls ; so he paused for a moment ; but the 
 roaring of a lion was behind him, and forward 
 he pressed. It was a sore passage for Irrgeist, 
 for the whole ground was strewed with thorns, 
 which pierced his feet at every step, and the 
 sparks from the fire-pits flew ever around him, 
 and now and then fell in showers over him. 
 Neither did he hear now the pleasant sound of 
 the voice of kindness ; whether it were that it 
 had died away, he knew not, or whether it were 
 that the crackling and roaring of the fierce 
 flames, and the voice of the beasts behind, and 
 his own groans arid crying, drowned its soft 
 music, so that he heard it not. 
 
 I had looked at him until I could bear it no 
 more ; for the path seemed to grow narrower and 
 narrower ; the flames from the two pits already 
 almost touched ; and I could not endure to see, 
 as I feared I should, the little one whom I had 
 watched become the prey of their devouring 
 fierceness. So, with a bitter groan for Irrgeist, 
 I turned me back to the road to see how it 
 fared with Furchtsam and Gehiilfe. 
 
 They had fallen far behind the others from 
 
 156
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 the first. Poor little Furchtsam had a trembling, 
 tottering gait ; and as he walked, he looked on 
 this side and on that, as if every step was 
 dangerous. This led him often to look off his 
 book of light, and then it would shut up its 
 leaves, and then his little lamp grew dimmer 
 and dimmer, and his feet stumbled, and he 
 trembled so, that he almost dropped his staff 
 out of his hands. Yet still he kept the right 
 path, only he got along it very slowly and with 
 pain. 
 
 Whether it was that Gehiilfe was too tender- 
 spirited to leave him, or why else, I know not, 
 but he kept close by the little trembler, and 
 seemed ever waiting to help him. Many a 
 time did he catch him by the hand when he 
 was ready to fall, and speak to him a word of 
 comfort, when without it he would have sunk 
 down through fear. So they got on together, 
 and now they came to the part of the pathway 
 which the evil enchantress haunted. She used 
 all her skill upon them, and brought up before 
 their eyes all the visions she could raise ; sun- 
 shine, and singing-birds, and waving boughs, 
 and green grass, and sparkling water, they all 
 passed before their eyes — but they heeded them 
 not ; once, indeed, poor Furchtsam for a moment 
 looked with a longing eye at the painted sun- 
 
 157
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 shine, as if its warm light would have driven off 
 some of his fears ; but it was but for a moment. 
 And as for Gehiilfe, whether it was that he was 
 reading his book of light too closely, or trimming 
 too carefully his lamp, or helping too constantly 
 his trembling friend, for some cause or other he 
 scarcely seemed to see the visions which the 
 sorceress had spread around him. So when she 
 had tried all her skill for a season, and found it 
 in vain, she vanished altogether from them, and 
 they saw her no more. But their dangers were 
 not over yet. When Gottlieb passed along this 
 road, he had gone on so boldly, that I had not 
 noticed how fearful it was in parts to any giddy 
 head or fainting heart. But now I saw well how 
 it terrified Furchtsam. For here it seemed to 
 rise straight up to a dangerous height, and to 
 become so narrow at the same time, and to be 
 so bare of any side-wall or parapet, that it was 
 indeed a giddy thing to pass along it. Yet when 
 one walked over it, as Gottlieb did, leaning on 
 his staff of Church-truth, reading diligently in 
 his book, and trimming ever and anon his lamp, 
 such a light fell upon the narrow path, and the 
 darkness so veiled the danger, that the pilgrim 
 did not know that there was anything to fear. 
 But not so when you stopped to look — then it 
 became terrible indeed ; you soon lost all sight 
 
 158
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 of the path before you ; for the brightest lamp 
 only lighted the road just by your feet, and 
 that seemed rising almost to an edge, whilst 
 the flash of distant lights here and there shewed 
 that a fearful precipice was on each side. 
 
 Furchtsam trembled exceedingly when he 
 looked at it ; and even GehiAlfe, when, instead of 
 marching on, he stopped to talk about it, began 
 to be troubled with fears. Now, as they looked 
 here and there, Furchtsam saw an easy safe- 
 looking path, which promised to lead them in 
 the same direction, but along the bottom of the 
 cliffs. Right glad was he to see it ; and so, 
 taking the lead for once, he let fall his staff, that 
 by catching hold of the bushes on the bank, he 
 might drop down more easily upon the lower 
 path; and there he got with very little trouble. 
 
 It was all done in a moment ; and when he 
 was out of the path, Gehiilfe turned round and 
 saw where he was gone. Then he tried to follow 
 after him ; but he could not draw his staff with 
 him through the gap, or climb down the bank 
 without letting it go. And happily for him, he 
 held it so firmly, that after one or two trials he 
 stopped. Then, indeed, was he glad, as soon 
 as he had time to think; and he held his good 
 stick firmer in his hand than ever, for now he 
 saw plainly that Furchtsam was quite out of 
 
 159
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 the road, and that he had himself well-nigh 
 followed him. So leaning over the side, he 
 began to call to his poor timid companion, and 
 encourage him to mount up again by the bank 
 which he had slipped down, and venture along 
 the right way with him. At first Furchtsam 
 shook his head mournfully, and would not hear 
 of it. But when Gehiilfe reminded him that 
 they had a true promise from the King, that 
 nothing should harm them whilst they kept to 
 the high way of holiness, and that the way upon 
 which he had now entered was full of pitfalls 
 and wild beasts, and every sort of danger, and 
 that in it he must be alone — then his reason 
 began to come back to him, and Furchtsam saw 
 into what an evil state he had brought himself ; 
 and with all his heart he wished himself back 
 again by the side of Gehiilfe. But it was no 
 such easy matter to get back. His lamp was 
 so bruised and shaken as he slid down, that it 
 threw scarcely any light at all ; and he thought 
 it had never seemed so dark as it did now; he 
 could not see the bushes to which he had clung 
 but now, or the half path which had brought 
 him down. Gehiilfe's voice from above was 
 some guide to him, and shewed him in which 
 direction to turn; but when he tried to mount 
 the bank, it was so steep and so slippery, he 
 
 i6o
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 could scarcely cling to it ; and he had no staff 
 to lean upon, and no friendly hand to help him. 
 Surely, if it had not been for the kind, encourag- 
 ing voice of Gehiilfe, the weak and trembling 
 heart of Furchtsam would have failed utterly, 
 and he would have given up altogether. 
 
 Now, just at this time, whilst he was reaching 
 out to Furchtsam, and urging him to strive more 
 earnestly, he heard a noise as of one running 
 upon the path behind him ; and he looked round 
 and saw one of the King's own messengers 
 coming fast upon it; so when he came up to 
 Gehiilfe, he stopped and asked him what made him 
 tarry thus upon the King's path. Then Gehiilfe 
 answered very humbly, that he was striving to 
 help back poor Furchtsam into the right way, 
 from which he had been driven by his fears. 
 Then the messenger of the King looked upon 
 him kindly, and bid him " fear not.-' " Rightly," 
 he said, " art thou named Gehiilfe, for thou hast 
 been ready to help the weak ; and the Lord, who 
 has bidden his children to bear one another's 
 burdens, has watched thee all along thy way, 
 and looked upon thee with an eye of love ; and 
 forasmuch as thou seemest to have been hin- 
 dered in thy own course by helping thy brother, 
 the King has sent me to carry thee on up this 
 steep place, and over this dangerous road." With 
 
 M l6l II
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 that, I saw that he lifted up the boy, and was 
 about to fly with him through the air. Then, 
 seeing that he cast a longing look towards the 
 steep bank, down which Furchtsam had slipped, 
 and that the sound of his sad voice was still 
 ringing in his ear, the King's messenger said 
 to him, " ' Cast thy burden upon the Lord.' ' The 
 Lord careth for thee.' ' For the very hairs 
 of your head are numbered,' and ' the Lord is 
 full of compassion, pitiful, and of great mercy.' " 
 So the heart of Gehiilfe was soothed, and with 
 a happy mind he gave himself to the messenger, 
 and he bore him speedily along the dangerous 
 path, as if his feet never touched the ground, 
 but refreshing airs breathed upon his forehead 
 as he swept along, and silver voices chanted 
 holy words to his glad heart. " He shall gather 
 the lambs in his arms," said one ; and another 
 and a sweeter took up the strain and sang, " and 
 he shall carry them in his bosom." And so he 
 passed along the way swiftly and most happily. 
 
 Then I saw that he bore him to the mouth of 
 the arbour, into which Gottlieb had turned to 
 rest. And now as he came up to it, Gottlieb was 
 just coming forth again to renew his journey. 
 Right glad was Gottlieb of the company of such 
 a comrade, so they joined their hands together, 
 and walked along the road speaking to one an- 
 
 162
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 other of the kindness of the King, and telling one 
 to the other all that had befallen them hitherto. 
 It was a goodly sight to see them marching along 
 that road, their good staffs in their hands, their 
 lamps burning brightly, and their books sending 
 forth streams of light to shew them the way that 
 they should go. 
 
 But now I saw they got into a part of the road 
 which was rough and full of stones ; and unless 
 they kept the lights they bore with them ever 
 turned towards the road, and looked, too, most 
 carefully to their footing, they were in constant 
 danger of falling. The air, also, seemed to have 
 some power here of sending them to sleep, for 
 I saw that Gottlieb's steps were not as steady 
 and active as they had been ; and he looked often 
 from this side to that, to see if there were any 
 other resting-place provided for him ; but none 
 could he see : ard then methought, as he walked 
 on, his eyes would close as he bent them down 
 over his book, like one falling asleep from exceed- 
 ing weariness. 
 
 Gehiilfe saw the danger of his friend ; and 
 though he felt the air heavy, his fear for Gottlieb 
 kept him wide awake. " What are those words," 
 he asked his drowsy friend, " which burn so 
 brightly in your book.?" When he heard the 
 voice, Gottlieb roused himself, and read; and it
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 was written, " Watch and pray, lest ye enter into 
 temptation ; the spirit truly is willing, but the 
 flesh is weak." Then, for a little while, Gottlieb 
 was warned, and he walked like one awake ; but, 
 after a time, such power had this sleepy air, he 
 was again almost as drowsy as ever, and his eyes 
 were almost closed. Then before Gehiilfe could 
 give him a second warning, he placed his foot in 
 a hole, which he would have easily passed by if 
 he had been watching ; and, falling suddenly 
 down, he would have rolled quite out of the road 
 (for it was raised here with a steep bank on either 
 side) if Gehiilfe had not been nigh to catch him 
 again by the hand, and keep him in the path. 
 He was sorely bruised and shaken by the fall, 
 and his lamp, too, was dusted and hurt ; so that 
 he could not, at first, press on the way as he 
 wished to do. But now his drowsiness was gone ; 
 and, with many bitter tears, he lamented that he 
 had given way to it before. One strange thing 
 I noted, too : he had dropped his staff in his fall, 
 and he could not rise till he had taken it again in 
 his hand; but now, when he tried to take it, it 
 pricked and hurt his hand, as if it had been rough 
 and sharp with thorns. Then I looked at it, and 
 saw that one of the stems which were twined 
 together, and which bore the name of "discipline," 
 was very rough and thorny ; and this, which had 
 
 164 I
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 turned inwardly before, was now, by his fall, 
 forced to the outside of the staff, so that he must 
 hold that or none. Now I heard the boy groan 
 as he laid hold of it ; but lay hold of it he did, 
 and that boldly, for he could not rise or travel 
 without it, and to rise and travel he was deter- 
 mined. Then he looked into his book of light, 
 and he read out of it these words, " Make the 
 bones which thou hast broken to rejoice." And 
 as he read them he gathered courage, and made a 
 great effort, and stood upon his feet, and pressed 
 on beside Gehiilfe. 
 
 Then I saw that the road changed again, and 
 became smoother than they had ever known it. 
 Gottlieb's staff, too, was now smooth and easy in 
 his hand, as it had been at first. Soon also a 
 pleasant air sprung up, and blew softly and yet 
 cool upon their foreheads. And now they heard 
 the song of birds, as if the sunshine was very 
 near them, though they saw it not yet. There 
 were, too, every now and then, sounds sweeter 
 than the songs of birds, as if blessed angels 
 were near them, and they were let to hear their 
 heavenly voices. A little further, and the day 
 began to dawn upon them — bright light shone 
 on some way before them, and its glad reflection 
 was already cast upon their path. But still there 
 was one more trial before them ; for when they 
 
 165
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 had enjoyed this light for a season, and I thought 
 they must be close upon the sunshine, I saw that 
 they had got into greater darkness than ever. 
 Here, also, they lost sight of one another ; for it 
 was a part of the King's appointment, that each 
 one must pass that dark part alone — it was called 
 the shadow of death. Gehiilfe, I saw, walked 
 through it easily ; his feet were nimble and active, 
 his lamp was bright, his golden vial ever in his 
 hand, his staff firm to lean upon, and the book 
 of light close before his eyes : he was still read- 
 ing it aloud, and I heard him speak of his King 
 as giving "songs in the night" — and so, with a 
 glad heart, he passed through the darkness. The 
 brightest sunshine lay close upon the other side 
 of it ; and there he was waited for by messengers 
 in robes of light, and they clad him in the same, 
 and carried him with songs and music into the 
 presence of the King. 
 
 But Gottlieb did not pass through so easily. 
 It seemed as if that darkness had power to bring 
 out any weakness with which past accidents had 
 at the time affected the pilgrim ; for so it was, 
 that when Gottlieb was in it, he felt all the 
 stunning of his fall come back again upon him, 
 and, for a moment, he seemed well-nigh lost. 
 But his heart was sound, and there was One who 
 was faithful holding him up: so he grasped his 
 
 1 66 1
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 good staff tighter than ever, though its roughness 
 had come out again and sorely pricked his hand ; 
 but this seemed only to quicken his steps ; and 
 when he had gone on a little while thus firmly, 
 as he looked into his book he saw written on its 
 open page, " I will make darkness light before 
 thee." And as he read them, the words seemed 
 to be fulfilled, for he stepped joyfully out of the 
 darkness into the clear sunlight. And for him 
 too messengers were waiting ; for him, too, were 
 garments ready woven of the light ; around him 
 were songs, and music, and rejoicing ; and so they 
 bare him into the presence of the King. 
 
 Now, when I had seen these two pass so 
 happily through their journey into rest, I thought 
 again of the poor trembling Furchtsam, and 
 longed to know that he had got again into the 
 road. But upon looking back to where I had 
 lost sight of him, I saw that he was still lying at 
 the foot of the steep bank, down whose side 
 he had stepped so easily. He had toiled and 
 laboured, and striven to climb up, but it had been 
 all in vain. Still he would not cease his labour ; 
 and now he was but waiting to recover his breath 
 to begin to strive again. He was, too, continually 
 calling on the King for aid. Then I saw a figure 
 approaching him in the midst of his cries. And 
 poor Furchtsam trembled exceedingly, for he was 
 
 167
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 of a very timorous heart, and he scarcely dared 
 to look up to him who stood by him. Then the 
 man that stood by him asked him in a grave, pity- 
 ing voice, "What doest thou here ?" Then the poor 
 boy sobbed out in broken words the confession 
 of his folly, and told how he had feared and left 
 the road, and how he had laboured to get back 
 into it, and how he almost thought that he should 
 never reach it. Then I saw the man look down 
 upon him with a face of tenderness and love ; 
 and he stretched forth his hand towards him ; 
 and Furchtsam saw that it was the hand that 
 had been pierced for him ; so he raised the boy 
 up, and set him on his feet ; and he led him 
 straight up the steepest bank. And now it seemed 
 easy to his steps ; and he put him back again in 
 the road, and gave the staff into his hand, and 
 bid him " redeem the time, because the days are 
 evil " : and then he added, " Strengthen ye the 
 weak hands, and confirm the feeble knees. Say 
 to them that are of a fearful heart, Be strong; 
 fear not." Such strength had his touch, his 
 words, and his kind look given to the heart of 
 the timid boy, that he seized the staff, though its 
 most prickly "discipline" sorely hurt his tender 
 flesh ; and leaning on it, he set bravely out with- 
 out a moment's delay. And I heard him reading 
 in his book of light as he climbed up the steep 
 
 i68
 
 IIIE \ ISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 path which had affrighted him ; and what he read 
 was this : " Before I was afflicted I went wrong ; 
 but now have I kept thy word." 
 
 When he had almost reached the arbour, 
 another danger awaited him ; for he saw, as he 
 thought, the form of an evil beast lying in the 
 pathway before him. Then did some of his old 
 terrors begin to trouble him ; and he had turned 
 aside, perhaps, out of the way, but that the whole- 
 some roughness of his staff still pricked his hand 
 and forced him to recall his former fall. So in- 
 stead of turning aside, he looked into his book 
 of light, and there he read in fiery letters, " Thou 
 shalt go upon the lion and the adder; the young 
 lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy 
 feet " ; and this gave him comfort. So on he went, 
 determining still to read in his book, and not to 
 look at all at that which affrighted him ; and so 
 it was, that when he came to the place, he saw 
 that it was only a bush, which his fears had 
 turned into the figure of a beast of prey ; and at 
 the same moment he found where it was written 
 in his book, "No lion shall be there, nor any 
 ravenous beast shall go up thereon, it shall not be 
 found there ; but the redeemed shall walk there." 
 
 And now he stood beside the arbour, where 
 he rested awhile, and then pursued his journey. 
 Now I noticed, that as he got further on the road, 
 
 169
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 and read more in his book, and leant upon his 
 staff, he grew bolder and firmer in his gait ; and 
 I thought that I could see why Gehiilfe, who had 
 been needful to him in his first weakness, had 
 afterwards been carried away from him ; for surely 
 he had leant more upon him, and less upon his 
 book and his good staff, unless he had walked 
 there alone. 
 
 However this might be, he grew continually 
 bolder. As he drew near the last sad darkness, 
 I began again to tremble for him ; but I need 
 not have done so ; for he walked on so straight 
 through it, that it seemed scarcely to make any 
 difference to him at all. In the best part of the 
 road his feebleness had taught him to lean alto- 
 gether upon him who had so mercifully helped 
 him on the bank, and who had held up his faint- 
 ing steps hitherto ; and this strength could hold 
 him up as well even in this extreme darkness. 
 I heard him, as he passed along, say, "When 
 I am weak, then am I strong " ; and with that he 
 broke out into singing : 
 
 " Through death's dark valley without fear 
 My feeble steps have trod : 
 Because I know my God is near ; 
 I feel his staff and rod." 
 
 With that he too passed out of the shade and 
 170
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 darkness into the joyful sunshine. And oh, it 
 was indeed a happy time ! It made my heart 
 bound when I saw his face, which had so often 
 turned pale and drooped with terror, now lighted 
 up with the glow of the heavenly light ; when, 
 instead of the evil things which his fears had 
 summoned up, I saw around him the bands of 
 holy ones, and the children of the day : and so 
 they passed along. x\nd soon, I thought, he would 
 see again the hand which had been stretched out 
 to save him on the bank, and hear the kind and 
 merciful voice which had soothed his terror and 
 despair, and live in the present sunshine of that 
 gracious countenance. 
 
 And now methought I heard an earnest and 
 sorrowful voice, as of one crying aloud for help ; 
 so I turned me round to see where he was that 
 uttered it, and by the side of the King's path 
 I could see one striving to mount the bank, and 
 slipping back again as often as he tried. He was 
 trying in right earnest ; his cries were piteous to 
 hear, and he laboured as if he would carry his 
 point by storm. But it was all in vain ; the more 
 he struggled, the worse his case grew ; for the 
 bank, and all the path up to it, got so quagged 
 and miry with his eager striving, that he seemed 
 farther and farther from getting safely up. At 
 last, as he was once more struggling violently 
 
 171
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 up, his feel quite slipped from under him, and 
 he fell upon his side ; and so he lay sobbing and 
 struggling for breath, but still crying out to the 
 King, who had helped him before, and delivered 
 him from the flames of the pit, to help him once 
 more, and lift him again into the right way. My 
 heart pitied the poor boy, and I looked more 
 closely into his face, and saw that it was Irrgeist 
 — not Irrgeist as he had been when he had walked 
 at first with Gottlieb along the road, or as he had 
 been when he had first followed the deceitful 
 phantom "Pleasure" out of it — but Irrgeist still, 
 though brought by his wanderings and his trouble 
 to paleness, and weariness, and sorrow. Now, 
 whilst I was looking at him, as he lay in this 
 misery, and longing for some helper to come to 
 him, lo, his cries stopped for a moment, and 
 I saw that it was because One stood by him 
 and spoke to him. Then I could see under the 
 mantle, which almost hid him, that it was the 
 same form which had visited Furchtsam, and 
 delivered him when he had cried. Now, too, 
 I saw the hand held out, and I saw Irrgeist seize 
 it ; and it raised him up, and he stood upon his 
 feet : and the staff was given to him — exceeding 
 rough, but needful and trusty ; and his lamp 
 shone out, and the book of light was his : and 
 his feet were again in the road. 
 
 172
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 But I marked well that Irrgeist trod it not as 
 the others had done. Truly did he go along it 
 weeping. Whether it was that the thought of 
 what he had gone through amongst the pitfalls 
 dwelt ever on his mind ; or whether it were 
 shame of having wandered, I know not, — but his 
 road seemed evermore one of toil and sorrow. 
 Still, in the midst of tears, a song was often put 
 into his mouth, and his tongue was ever speaking 
 of the great kindness of him who had restored 
 the wanderer ; his head, too, was so bowed down, 
 that he marked every stone upon the road, and 
 therefore never stumbled ; but still his speed was 
 little, and his troubles were many. When he got 
 to the dark part, he had a sore trial ; his feet 
 seemed too weak and trembling to bear him ; 
 and more than once I heard him cry out, as if he 
 thought that he were again between the pitfalls, 
 and the fire were ready to break out upon him. 
 But then did it seem as if there were some sweet 
 hopes given him, and his face brightened up; 
 and in a faint, feeble voice, he would break out 
 again into his song and thanksgiving. As he 
 drew towards the end, things somewhat mended 
 with him; and when he was just upon the sun- 
 Hght, and began to see its brightness through the 
 haze, and to hear the voices of the heavenly ones, 
 methought his heart would have burst, so did it 
 
 173
 
 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES 
 
 beat with joy; and withal he smote upon his 
 breast, and said: "And this for me! And this 
 for the wanderer ! Oh mercy, choicest mercy ! 
 Who is a God hke unto thee, that pardonest 
 iniquity?" And so saying, he entered on the 
 heavenly light, and left for ever behind him the 
 darkness and the danger of the pitfalls, and the 
 face of shame, and the besetting weakness ; for 
 he, too, was clothed in raiment of light, and borne 
 with joy before the Lord the King. 
 
 174
 
 THE LITTLE WANDERERS 
 
 In a miserable little hovel, built on the edge 
 of a wide and desolate common, lived a poor 
 widow woman, who had two sons. The eldest 
 of them was quite young, and the least was 
 scarcely more than an infant. They were dressed 
 in torn and dirty rags, for the widow had no 
 better clothes to put upon them ; and often they 
 were very hungry and very cold, for she had 
 not food or fire with which to feed and warm 
 them. No one taught the biggest boy anything ; 
 and as for the poor mother, she did not know 
 a letter. She had no friends ; and the only play- 
 fellows the little ones ever knew were other 
 children as poor, and as dirty, and as untaught, 
 as they were themselves, from whom they learnt 
 nothing but to say bad words and do naughty 
 tricks. Poor children ! it was a sad life, you 
 would say, which lay before them. 
 
 Just at this time the widow was taken very ill 
 with a fever. Long she lay in that desolate hut, 
 groaning and suffering, and no one knew how ill 
 she was but the little children. They would sit 
 
 175
 
 THE LITTLE WANDERERS 
 
 and cry by her miserable bed all day, for they 
 were very hungry and very sad. When she had 
 lain in this state for more than a week, she grew 
 light-headed, and after a while died. The 
 youngest child thought she was asleep, and 
 that he could not waken her ; but the elder boy 
 was frightened, and ran screaming out of the 
 house. 
 
 Just at that very moment a man passed by, 
 who looked into the pale, thin, hungry face of 
 the sobbing child, with a kind, gentle look, and 
 let himself be led into the wretched hut, where 
 the poor dead mother lay. His heart bled for 
 the poor orphans, for he was one who was full of 
 tenderness ; so he spake kind words to them ; 
 and when his servants came up after a while, he 
 gave orders that their dead mother should be 
 buried, and that the children should be taken 
 from the miserable hut, to dwell in his own 
 beautiful castle. 
 
 To it the children were moved. The servants 
 of the Lord of the castle put on them clean fresh 
 clothes — washed their old dirt from them ; and 
 as no one knew what were their names, they gave 
 them two new names, which showed they belonged 
 to this family ; and they were cared for, and given 
 all they wanted. 
 
 Happy was now their lot. They had all they 
 
 176
 
 THE LITTLE A7ANDERERS 
 
 wanted ; good food in plenty, instead of hunger 
 and thirst ; clean raiment, instead of rags and 
 nakedness ; and kind teachers, who instructed 
 them day by day as they were able to bear it. 
 There were a multitude of other happy children 
 too in the castle, with whom they lived, and 
 learned, and spent their glad days. Sometimes 
 they played in the castle, and sometimes they 
 ran about in the grounds that were round it, 
 where were all sorts of flowers, and beautiful trees 
 full of singing birds, and green grass, and painted 
 butterflies ; and they were as happy as children 
 could be. 
 
 All over these grounds they might play about 
 as they would ; only on one side of them they 
 were forbidden to go. There the garden ended 
 in a wide waste plain, and there seemed to be 
 nothing to tempt children to leave the happy 
 garden to walk in it, especially as the kind Lord 
 of the castle bid them never set foot on it ; and 
 yet it was said that some children had wandered 
 into it, and that of these, many had never come 
 back again. For in that desert dwelt the enemies 
 of the Lord of the castle ; and there was nothing 
 they loved better than to pounce down upon any 
 children whom he had taken as his own, and 
 carry them off, to be their slaves in the midst of 
 the waste and dreary sands. 
 
 177 12
 
 THE LITTLE WANDERERS 
 
 Many ways, too, had these enemies of enticing 
 the children to come on the plain ; for as long 
 as they stayed within the boundary, and played 
 only in the happy garden, the enemy could not 
 touch them. Sometimes they would drop gay 
 and shining flowers all about the beginning of 
 the waste, hoping that the children would come 
 across the border to pick them up ; and so it was, 
 that if once a child went over, as soon as he had 
 got the flower for which he had gone into his 
 hands, it seemed to fade and wither away ; but 
 just beyond him he thought he saw another, 
 brighter and more beautiful ; and so, too, often 
 it happened that, throwing down the first, he 
 went on to take the second ; and then, throwing 
 down the second, he went on to reach the third ; 
 until, suddenly, the enemy dashed upon him, and 
 whirled him away with them in a moment. 
 
 Often and often had little Kiihn^ — for so the 
 eldest boy had been named — looked out over 
 this desert, and longed, as he saw the gay flowers 
 dropped here and there, to run over the border 
 and pick them up. His Httle brother, who was 
 now old enough to run about with him, would 
 stand and tremble by him as he got close to 
 the desert; but little Zart^ would never leave 
 him ; and sometimes, I am afraid, they would 
 ^ Bold, or rash. ^ Tender. 
 
 178
 
 THE Lin^LE WANDERERS 
 
 have both been lost, if it had not been for a 
 dear little girl, who was almost always with 
 them, and who never would go even near to the 
 line. When Kiihn was looking into it, as if he 
 longed for the painted flowers, the gentle Glaube^ 
 would grow quite sad, and bending her dark 
 sorrowful eyes upon him, their long lashes would 
 become wet with tears, and she would whisper 
 in a voice almost too solemn for a child, " Oh, 
 Kiihn, remember ! " Then Kiihn, who could not 
 bear to see her sad, would tear himself away ; 
 and the flowers seemed directly to lose their 
 brightness, and the desert looked dry and hot, 
 and the garden cool and dehcious, and they 
 played happily together, and forgot their sorrow. 
 But it was very dangerous for Kiihn to go so 
 near. The servants of the Lord of the castle 
 often told the children this ; and seeing a bold 
 and daring spirit in Kiihn, he had been told it 
 over and over again. What made it so dangerous 
 was this — that the flowers of the wilderness never 
 looked gay until you got near its border, but it 
 seemed dusty, dry, and hot; but the nearer you 
 got to it, the brighter shone the flowers ; they 
 seemed also to grow in number, until you could 
 hardly see its dry, hot sands for the flowery 
 carpet that was drawn over them. 
 1 Faith. 
 
 179 12-
 
 THE LITTLE WANDERERS 
 
 Poor Kiihn ! he was often in danger. Never 
 yet had he crossed the border; but it is a sad 
 thing to go near temptation ; and so this unhappy 
 child found to his cost. 
 
 One day he was sauntering close to the for- 
 bidden border, when the hoop which he was 
 trundling sHpped from him and ran into the 
 desert. In a moment he was over after it ; and 
 just as he stooped to pick it up, he saw, right 
 before him, a beautiful and sparkling flower. 
 He would certainly have gone after it, but that 
 at the instant he caught the eye of Glaube 
 looking sadly after him, and it struck upon his 
 heart, and he hastened back, and was safe. For 
 a while his legs trembled under him, and Zart 
 looked up quite frightened into his pale face; 
 Glaube, too, could scarcely speak to him ; and 
 it was long before they were laughing merrily 
 again under the tall palm-trees of the garden. 
 But by the next day all Kiihn's fears had flown 
 away, and he went with a bolder foot than ever 
 to the very edge of the desert. 
 
 Glaube was further off than usual ; and just 
 as Kiihn and Zart were in this great danger, a 
 beautiful bird started up under their feet. The 
 boys had never seen such a bird. All the colours 
 of the rainbow shone upon his feathers, and his 
 black and scarlet head seemed quite to sparkle 
 
 1 80
 
 THE LITTLE WANDERERS 
 
 in the sunshine. It tried to fly; but whether its 
 wing was hurt, or what, I know not, but it could 
 not rise, and ran before them flapping its painted 
 wings, screaming with a harsh voice, and keeping 
 only just before them. The boys were soon in 
 full chase, and everything else was forgotten : 
 when, just as they thought the bird was their 
 own, he fluttered across the border, and both the 
 boys followed him — Kiihn boldly and without 
 thought, for he had been across it before ; but 
 poor little Zart trembled and turned pale, and 
 clung to his bolder brother, as if he never would 
 have crossed it alone. 
 
 Once over, however, on they went, and the 
 bird still seemed to keep close before them ; and 
 they never noticed how far they were getting 
 from the garden, when all at once they heard a 
 dreadful noise : the air looked thick before them, 
 as if whole clouds of dust were sweeping on ; 
 shining spear-heads were all they could see 
 in the midst of the dust ; and they heard the 
 trampling of a multitude of horses. The boys 
 were too much frightened to shriek, but they 
 clung to one another, pale and trembling, and 
 ready to sink into the earth. In a minute rude 
 hands seized them ; they heard rough voices 
 round them ; and they could see that they were 
 in the midst of the enemies of the Lord of the 
 
 i8i
 
 THE LITTLE WANDERERS 
 
 castle. In another minute they were torn asunder, 
 they were snatched up on horseback, and were 
 galloped off towards the sad home in which the 
 evil men of the desert dwelt. In vain the boys 
 cried, and begged to be taken home ; away 
 galloped the horses, and not a word of all their 
 begging and cries was listened to. They had 
 gone on long in this way, and the dark-frowning 
 towers of the desert castle were in sight. The 
 little boys looked sadly at one another ; for here 
 there was no flowering garden, there were no 
 sheltering trees, but all looked bare, and dry, 
 and wretched; and they could see little narrow 
 windows covered with iron bars, which seemed 
 to be dungeon-rooms, where they thought they 
 should be barred in, and never more play to- 
 gether amongst the flowers and in the sunlight. 
 
 Just at this moment the little Zart felt that, 
 by some means or other, the strap which bound 
 him to the horse had grown loose, and in an- 
 other moment he had slipped down its side, and 
 upon his head on the ground. No one noticed 
 his fall ; and there he lay upon the sand for a 
 while, stunned and insensible. When he woke 
 up, the trampling of horses had died away in 
 the distance ; the light sand of the desert, which 
 their feet had stirred, had settled down again 
 like the heavy night-dew, so that he could see 
 
 182
 
 THE LITTLE WANDERERS 
 
 no trace of their footmarks. The frowning 
 castle-walls were out of sight ; look which way 
 he would, he could see nothing but the hot flat 
 sand below, and the hot bright sun in the clear 
 sky above him. He called for his brother, but 
 no voice answered him ; he started up, and 
 began to run he knew not where; but the sun 
 beat on his head, the hot sand scorched his 
 weary feet; his parched tongue began to cleave 
 to his mouth : and he sank down upon the desert 
 again to die. 
 
 As he lay there he thought upon the castle- 
 garden and its kind Lord ; upon the sorrowful 
 face with which Glaube was used to look on 
 them, when he and Kiihn drew near to the 
 forbidden border ; and his tears broke out afresh 
 when he thought of his brother in the enemies' 
 dungeon, and himself dying in the desolate 
 wilderness. Then he called upon the Lord of 
 the castle, for he remembered to have heard 
 how he had pitied wandering children, and heard 
 their cry from afar, and had brought them back 
 again to his own happy castle. As he lay upon 
 the sand, crying out to the Lord of the castle, he 
 thought that he heard a footstep, as of one 
 walking towards him. Then there came a shade 
 between the sun and his burning head, and 
 looking languidly up, he saw the kind face of 
 
 183
 
 THE LITTLE WANDERERS 
 
 the Lord of the castle turned towards him. He 
 was looking on the poor child as he had looked 
 on him when he had pitied him by the side of 
 the hut ; and that kind face seemed to speak 
 comfort. Then he stretched out to him his hand, 
 and he bade him rise ; and he lifted up the child, 
 and bore him in his bosom over that waste and 
 scorching wilderness, nor ever set him down until 
 he had brought him again into the pleasant 
 garden. Once, as he lay in that bosom, Zart 
 thought that he heard in the distance the tramp- 
 ing of horse-hoofs ; and he saw the dusty cloud 
 lifting itself up ; but he felt that he was safe ; 
 and so he was, for the enemy did not dare to 
 approach that Mighty One who was bearing him. 
 When he reached the garden again, the gentle 
 Glaube met him, and welcomed him back again 
 to their peaceful home. But he hung down his 
 head with shame and with sorrow ; and as he 
 looked up into the face of the Lord of the 
 garden, he saw in it such kindness and love, that 
 his tears rolled down his cheeks to think how he 
 had broken his command, and wandered into the 
 wilderness of his enemies. Then he tried to 
 speak for his brother, for his heart was sore 
 and heavy with thinking of him ; but the Lord 
 of the castle answered not. Many, many days 
 did Glaube and Zart pray for him ; but they 
 
 184
 
 THE LITTLE WANDERERS 
 
 heard nothing of him ; whether he died in the 
 enemies' dungeon ; or whether, as they still dared 
 to hope, he might even yet one day find his way 
 back to the garden of peace ; or whether, as 
 they sometimes trembled to think, he had grow^n 
 up amongst the enemies of their Lord, and 
 become one of them — they knew not, and they 
 dared not to ask. But they never thought of 
 him without trembling and tears, and Zart more 
 even than Glaube ; for he had crossed that 
 terrible border ; he had been seized by the fierce 
 enemy ; he had lain alone in the wide scorching 
 desert ; and had only been brought back again 
 from death by the great love of the mighty and 
 merciful Lord of that most happy garden. 
 
 185
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 [St Matthew xxv 14 — 30] 
 
 A GREAT king once called his servants to 
 him, and said to them — "You have all often 
 professed to love me, and to wish to serve me ; 
 and I have never yet made trial of you. But 
 now I am about to try you all, that it may be 
 known who does in truth desire to serve me, 
 and who is a servant only in name. To-morrow 
 your trial will begin ; so meet me here in the 
 morning, and be ready to set out upon a journey 
 on which I shall send you." 
 
 When the king had so spoken, he left them ; 
 and there was a great deal of bustle and talking 
 amongst these servants. Not that they were all 
 alike. Some were very busy, and said a great 
 deal of the services they should render; and that 
 they hoped it would be some really hard trial on 
 which the king would set them. Others were 
 quiet and thoughtful, saying little or nothing, 
 but, as it seemed, thinking silently of the words 
 the king had spoken, as if they feared lest they 
 
 186
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 should fail in their trial. For they loved that 
 kin^ greatly ; he had been as a father to them 
 all. Once they had been slaves, and cruelly 
 treated by a wicked tyrant who had taken them 
 prisoners, and cast some of them into dungeons, 
 and made others work in dark mines, and dealt 
 evil with them all. But the king had triumphed 
 over this their enemy, and rescued them from 
 his hands. His own son had sought them in 
 the dungeons and dark pits into which they had 
 been cast, and had brought them out ; and now 
 he had given them places in his service, and 
 fed them from his own kingly table; and he 
 promised to such as were faithful, that he would 
 raise them yet higher; that he would even set 
 them upon thrones, and put crowns upon their 
 heads ; and that they should remain always in 
 his presence, and rule and dwell with him. Now, 
 when the time of their trial was come, these 
 faithful servants were grave and thoughtful, 
 fearing lest they should fail, and be led to forget 
 him, their kind and gracious king. But one 
 thought held them up. He had said unto them 
 all, "As your day, so shall your strength be." 
 They knew, therefore, that he would put on them 
 no task beyond, their strength. They remem- 
 bered his kindness and his love in taking them 
 out of the dungeons of the enemy. They desired 
 
 187
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 greatly to serve him ; and so they rejoiced that 
 their trial was come, even while they feared it ; 
 and they trusted in him to help them, even whilst 
 they trembled for themselves. 
 
 These servants spent much of the night in 
 preparing for their journey, in thinking over all 
 the directions the King had ever given them ; 
 for many times had he spoken to them of this 
 coming trial, and even written down plain 
 rules for them, which should teach them always 
 how he would have them act. All these they 
 gathered together, lest in the hurry of setting 
 out they should forget any one of them ; and so 
 they went into the court of the palace to meet 
 the king. 
 
 Then he came forth from his palace-door and 
 gave them all their charge. 
 
 From the great treasure-chambers of that 
 palace he brought out many different gifts, and 
 laid them before these his servants. One had 
 gold and silver, and another had precious stuffs ; 
 but all had something good and costly ; and as 
 he gave them these gifts, he told them that this 
 was to be their trial. He was about to send 
 them with these gifts into an exceeding great 
 and rich city, which lay afar off from his palace ; 
 and in that city they were all to trade for him. 
 They were to take his gifts and use them wisely, 
 
 i88
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 so that each one of them might bring something 
 back to him. He gave them also very close and 
 particular instructions. He told them there were 
 many in that city who would try to rob them of 
 these his gifts ; and he told them how to keep 
 them safely. He told them that many would 
 seek to make them waste what he had given 
 to them on pleasing themselves, but that they 
 must remember always, that what they had, 
 belonged to him ; that they would have to give 
 him an account of their way of using all his 
 gifts ; and that he would reward with everlasting 
 favour those who now were faithful to him. He 
 told them also to set about trading for him as 
 early as they could ; for that all the merchants' 
 goods were freshest in the morning ; that then 
 the precious stones were the finest and the 
 truest ; but that those who waited till the evening 
 would find all the best goods sold ; and that, 
 perhaps, before they had anything ready, the 
 trumpet would sound which was to call them 
 all out of the city, and then they would have to 
 come back to him empty-handed and disgraced. 
 
 When he had given them these charges, he 
 sent them from his presence to begin their journey 
 to the great city. All that day they travelled 
 with horses and camels over plains and hills, 
 and fruitful fields and deserts, until, just as the 
 
 189
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 sun went down, they came to the walls of a 
 great city ; and they knew that it was here they 
 were to traffic for their king upon the morrow. 
 
 Then the thoughtful servants began carefully 
 to unpack their goods ; they looked into their 
 bales of precious stuffs to see that they had got 
 no injury from the dust and sand of the desert ; 
 they counted over their bags of money to see 
 that all was right ; and began to lay them all 
 in order, that they might enter the town as soon 
 as the gates were open, and trade for their king 
 in the morning hours, which he had told them 
 were the best. 
 
 But some of the other servants laughed at 
 them for taking all this care and trouble. "Surely 
 it will be time enough," they said, " to get every- 
 thing ready when the markets are open to-morrow. 
 We have had a long, hot, weary journey, and we 
 must rest and refresh ourselves before we think 
 of trading." So they spread the tables, and 
 began to feast in a riotous way, quite forgetting 
 the King's service, and putting the morrow out 
 of their thoughts. 
 
 Now as soon as the sun was up, in the morn- 
 ing, there was a great stir amongst the servants. 
 Those who had been careful and watchful in the 
 evening were ready with all their bales ; and as 
 soon as ever the city-gates were open, they 
 
 190
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 marched in through them with their goods. It 
 was a great wide city into which they entered, 
 and must hold, they thought, a vast multitude 
 of men. Houses and streets of all sizes met 
 their eyes here and there ; but they passed 
 easily along, because it was still so early in the 
 morning that few persons were in the streets, 
 and those few were all bent upon business, as 
 they were themselves. So they passed on to 
 the great market where the merchants bought 
 and sold, and here they set out all their goods ; 
 and the merchants came round them to look 
 over their wares, and to show them what they 
 had to sell in return. Now they found it true 
 as the king had foretold them. For they had 
 the first choice of all that the merchants could 
 offer. One of them opened his stores, and showed 
 them rubies, and diamonds, and pearls, such as 
 they had never seen before for size and beauty. 
 So they chose a pearl of great price, and they 
 bought it for their prince, and they trafficked in 
 their other wares, and gained for him more than 
 as many bags of treasure as he had given them 
 at first. So they traded according to their skill, 
 and every one had now secured something for 
 his lord. The pearl of great price was stored 
 by some; others had rich dresses adorned with 
 gold and precious stones ; others had bags of 
 
 191
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 the most refined gold ; others had the spices of 
 Arabia and the frankincense of the islands of 
 the East. 
 
 One there was amongst them who seemed to 
 have got nothing to carry home with him ; and 
 yet he, as well as the rest, had laid out his 
 master's gift. Then some of the other servants 
 asked him what he had stored up for the king? 
 and he said that he had no riches which he 
 could show to them, but that he had an offering 
 which he knew that the merciful heart of the 
 King would make him love and value. Then 
 they asked him to tell them his story ; so he 
 said that, as he was walking through the market, 
 he had seen a poor woman weeping and wring- 
 ing her hands, as if her heart would break : he 
 stopped, and asked her the cause of her sorrow, 
 and she told him that she was a widow, and 
 that some merchants, to whom her husband 
 had owed large sums of money, had come that 
 morning to her house and taken all that she 
 had, and seized her children too ; and that they 
 were dragging them away to the slave-market 
 to sell them for slaves in a far land, that they 
 might pay themselves the debt which her hus- 
 band had owed them. So when he heard her 
 sad tale, he opened his bag of treasure, and 
 found that all the gold which he had got in it 
 
 192
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 would just pay the widow's debt and set her 
 children free. Then he went with her to the 
 merchants, and he told out to them all that sum, 
 and set the children of the widow free, and gave 
 them back to their mother ; and " I am taking," 
 he said, " to our merciful king the offering of the 
 widow's tears and gratitude ; and I know that 
 this is an offering which will be well-pleasing in 
 his sight." 
 
 So it fared with these faithful servants in their 
 trading ; and all the while they were cheerful 
 and light-hearted, because they remembered 
 constantly the love and kindness which their 
 king had showed to them ; and they rejoiced 
 that they were able to serve him and to trade 
 for him with his gifts. They thought also of 
 the goodness of the king's son towards them; 
 they remembered how he had sought them when 
 they were prisoners in the dark dungeons of 
 their tyrant enemy; and they were full of joy 
 when they thought that they should be able to 
 offer to him the goodly pearl, or the other curious 
 gifts, which they had brought. They thought 
 of these things until they longed to hear the 
 trumpet sound, which was to call them out of 
 the town and gather them together for their 
 journey home. When that trumpet might sound, 
 they knew not ; but the sun was now past its 
 
 M. T93 13
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 noon, and the town, which had been so quiet 
 when they came in the early morning along its 
 empty streets, was now full of noise, and bustle, 
 and confusion, as great towns are wont to be 
 when all the multitude of sleepers awaken and 
 pour out for pleasure, or business, or idleness, 
 into the streets, and squares, and market-places. 
 
 Heartily glad were they now that they had 
 been so early at their traffic. Now the mer- 
 chants had shut up all their richest stores ; and 
 the markets were full of others who brought false 
 pearls and mock diamonds, instead of the costly 
 gems for which they had traded in the morning. 
 There seemed to be hardly any true traders left. 
 Idlers were there in numbers, and shows and 
 noisy revels were passing up and down the 
 streets ; and they could see thieves and bad men 
 lurking about at all the corners, seeking whom 
 they could catch, and rob, and plunder. 
 
 On all these things the servants looked ; 
 sometimes they saw beautiful sights pass by 
 them, which gladdened their eyes ; and some- 
 times sweet music would fill their ears, as bands 
 of merry harpers and singers walked up and 
 down through the market ; and they rejoiced in 
 all of these, but still their hearts were full of 
 thoughts of their kind king, and recollections of 
 his son their prince; and they longed to be at 
 
 194
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 home with them, even when the sights round 
 them were the gayest, and the sounds in their 
 ears were the sweetest ; and they were ever 
 watching for the voice of the trumpet, which 
 was to call them again homeward. 
 
 But this happy case was not that of all the 
 servants. When these watchful men had been 
 entering the gates of the city in the morning, the 
 thoughtless servants were not yet awake. They 
 had sat up late at their feasting and rejoicings, 
 and when the morning sun rose upon them, they 
 were still in their first deep sleep. The stirring 
 of their fellow-servants moved them a little, and 
 for awhile they seemed ready to rise and join 
 them. But their goods were not ready, so they 
 could not go with them ; and they might as well, 
 therefore, they thought, wait a little longer and 
 rest themselves, and then follow them to the 
 market. They did not mean to be late, but 
 they saw no reason why they should be so very 
 early. 
 
 So they slept till the sun was high, and then 
 they rose in some confusion, because it was now 
 so late : and they had all their goods to unpack, 
 their stuffs to smooth out, and the dust to shake 
 off from them. Soon they began about every 
 little thing to find fault with one another, be- 
 cause they were secretly angry with themselves. 
 
 195 13—2
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 Each one thought that if his neighbour had not 
 persuaded him to stay, he should have been up, 
 and have entered the city with the earliest ; so 
 high words arose between them ; and instead of 
 helping one another, and making the best they 
 could of the time which remained, they only 
 hindered one another, and made it later and 
 later before they were ready to begin their 
 trading. 
 
 So, after many hard words and much bad 
 temper, one by one they got away ; each as 
 soon as he was ready, and often with his goods 
 all in confusion ; every one following his own 
 path, and wandering by himself up the crowded 
 streets of the full town. 
 
 Hard work they had to get at all along it 
 when they had passed the gates. All the stream 
 of people seemed now to be setting against them. 
 The idlers jested upon their strange dress ; and 
 if they did but try to traffic for their lord, the 
 rude children of the town would gather round 
 them, and hoot, and cry ; so that they could 
 manage no trade at all. 
 
 Then, as I watched them, I saw that some 
 who had been the loudest in talking of what they 
 should do when they were tried, were now the 
 first to give up altogether making any head at 
 all against the crowd of that city. They had 
 
 196
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 packed up what goods they might have, and 
 began to think only of looking about them, and 
 following the crowd, and pleasing themselves, like 
 any of the men around them. Then I looked 
 after some of these, and I saw that one of them 
 was led on by the crowd to a place in the town 
 where there was a great show. Outside of it 
 were men in many-coloured dresses, who blew 
 with trumpets, and jested, and cried aloud, and 
 begged all to come in and see the strange sights 
 which were stored within. 
 
 Now when the servant came to this place, he 
 watched one and another go in, until at last he 
 also longed to go in and see the sights which 
 were to be gazed on within. So he went to the 
 door, and the porter asked him for money ; but 
 when he drew out his purse, and the porter saw 
 that his money belonged to some strange place, 
 and was quite unhke the coin used in that town, 
 he only laughed at it, and said it was good for 
 nothing there, and bid him " stand back." So 
 as he turned away, the porter saw the rich bundle 
 on his back, and then he spoke to him in another 
 tone, and he said, " I will let you in, if you like 
 to give me that bundle of goods." Then for a 
 moment the servant was checked. He thought 
 of his lord, and of the reckoning, and he remem- 
 bered the words, "As good stewards of the 
 
 197
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 manifold grace of God"; and he had almost 
 determined to turn back, and to fight his way 
 to the market-place, and to trade for his lord, 
 let it cost him what it might. But just at the 
 moment there was a great burst of the showman's 
 trumpets ; and he heard the people shouting for 
 joy within ; and so he forgot all but his great 
 desire, and slipping off the bundle from his 
 shoulders, he put it into the hands of the porter, 
 and passed in, and I saw him no more. 
 
 Then I saw another, who was standing at the 
 corner of a street gazing at some strange antics 
 which were being played by a company of the 
 townsmen. And as he gazed upon them, he 
 forgot all about his trading for his master, and 
 thought only of seeing more of this strange sight. 
 Then I saw that whilst he was thinking only of 
 these follies, some evil-minded men gathered 
 round him, and before he was aware of it, they 
 secretly stole from him all the gold which his 
 lord had given him to lay out for him. The 
 servant did not even know when it was gone, 
 so much was he thinking of staring at the sight 
 before him. But it made me very sad to think 
 that when he went to buy for his master, he 
 would find out, too late, his loss ; and that when 
 the trumpet sounded, he would have nothing to 
 carry back with him on the day of reckoning. 
 
 198
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 Some of these loiterers, too, were treated even 
 worse than this. One of them I saw whom the 
 shows and lights of that town led on from street 
 to street, until he came quite to its farther end ; 
 and then he thought that he saw before him, 
 beyond some lonely palings, still finer sights than 
 any he had left ; and so he set out to cross over 
 those fields, and see those sights. And when he 
 was half over, some wicked robbers, who laid 
 wait in those desolate places, rushed out upon 
 him from their lurking-place, and ill-used him 
 sorely, and robbed him of all his goods and 
 money, and left him upon the ground, hardl) 
 able to get back to the town which he had left. 
 
 Then I saw one of these loiterers who, as he 
 was looking idly at the sights round him, grew 
 very grave, and began to tremble from head to 
 foot. One of his fellows, who stood by and saw 
 him, quickly asked him what made him tremble. 
 At first he could not answer ; but after a while 
 he said, that the sound of the trumpet which 
 they had just heard had made him think of the 
 great trumpet-sound of their master, which was 
 to call them all back to his presence, and that 
 he trembled because the evening was coming on, 
 and he had not yet traded for his lord. And 
 "How," he said in great fear, "how shall we 
 ever stand that reckoning with our hands empty?" 
 
 199
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 Then some of his companions in idleness laughed 
 and jeered greatly at him, and mocked the poor 
 trembler. But his fears were wiser than their 
 mockings ; and so, it seemed, he knew, for he 
 cared nothing for them ; but only said to them, 
 very sadly and gravely, "You are in the same 
 danger, how then can you jeer at me?" And 
 with that he pointed their eyes up to the sky, 
 and showed them how low the sun had got 
 already, and that it wanted but an hour at the 
 most to his setting, and then that the trumpet 
 might sound at any moment, and they have 
 nothing to bear home to their lord. 
 
 Now, as he spoke, one listened eagerly to 
 him ; and whilst the others jeered, he said very 
 gravely, "What can we do.? Is it quite too late.?" 
 "It is never too late," said the other, "till the 
 trumpet sounds ; and though we have lost so 
 much of the day, perchance we can yet do 
 something ; come with me to the market-place, 
 and we will try." So the other joined him, and 
 off they set, passing through their companions, 
 who shouted after them all the way they went, 
 until the townsmen who stood round began to 
 jeer and shout after them also; so that all the 
 town was moved. A hard time those two had 
 now, and much they wished that they had gone 
 to the market-place in the early morning, when 
 
 200
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 the streets were empty, and the busy servants 
 had passed so easily along. Many were the 
 rough words they had now to bear; many the 
 angry or ill-natured crowd through which they 
 had to push; and if anywhere they met one of 
 their late and idle companions, he was sure to 
 stir up all the street against them, when he saw 
 them pushing on to the market-place. 
 
 "Do you think that we shall ever get there?" 
 said he who had been moved by the other's words 
 to him who led the way and buffeted with the 
 crowd, like a man swimming through many rough 
 weaves in the strong stream of some swift river. 
 "Do you think that we shall ever get there?" 
 "Yes, yes," said the other; "we shall get there 
 still, if we do but persevere." " But it is so hard 
 to make any way, and the streets seem to grow 
 fuller and fuller ; I am afraid that I shall never 
 get through." 
 
 Just as he spoke, a great band of the towns- 
 people, with music, and trumpets, and dancing, 
 met them like a mighty wave of the sea, and 
 seemed sure to drive them back ; one of their old 
 companions was dancing amongst the rest ; and 
 as I looked hard at him, I saw that it was the 
 same who had given away his precious burden in 
 order to go into the show. Now, as soon as he 
 saw these his former fellows, he called to them 
 
 20I
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 by their names, and bade them join him and the 
 townsmen round him. But he that was leading 
 the way shook his head, and said boldly, "No; 
 we will not join with you; we are going to the 
 market-place to traffic for our lord." "It is too 
 late for that," said he; "you lost the morning, 
 and now you cannot trade." Then I saw that he 
 who before had trembled exceedingly, grew very 
 pale ; but still he held on his way ; and he said, 
 "Yes, we have lost the morning, and a sore thing 
 it is for us ; but our good lord will help us even 
 yet ; and we will serve him, redeeming the 
 time, because the days are evil." Then he turned 
 to the other and said to him, "And will not you 
 stop either? Do not be fooled by this madman ; 
 what use is it to go to buy when the shops are 
 all shut, and the market empty.'*" Then he hung 
 down his head, and looked as though he would 
 have turned back, and fallen into the throng; 
 but his fellow seized him by the hand, and bid 
 him take courage, and think upon his kind master, 
 and upon the king's son, whose very blood had 
 been shed for them ; and with that he seemed to 
 gather a little confidence, and held on for a while 
 in his way with the other. 
 
 Then their old companion turned all his 
 seeming love into hatred, and he called upon the 
 crowd round him to lay hands on them and stop
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 them ; and so it would fain hai'e done, but that, 
 as it seemed to me, a power greater than their 
 own was with those servants, and strengthened 
 them ; until they pushed the rude people aside 
 on the right and on the left, and passed safely 
 through them into another street. 
 
 Here there were fewer persons, and they had 
 a breathing-time for a while ; and as they heard 
 the sound of music and of the crowd passing by 
 at some little distance from them, they began to 
 gather heart, and to talk to one another. " I never 
 thought," said the one, "that I could have held 
 on through that crowd ; and I never could, if you 
 had not stretched out your hand to help me." 
 "Say, rather, if our master's strength had not 
 been with us," said the other. " But do you think," 
 said the other, "that he will accept anything we 
 can bring him now, when the best part of the day 
 is over.?" "Yes, I do," he replied. "I have a 
 good hope that he will ; for I remember how he 
 said, ' Return, ye backsliding children, return ye 
 even unto me.'" "But how can one who is so 
 trembling and fearful as I am ever traffic for him?" 
 "You can, if you will but hold on ; for he has once 
 spoken of his servants as 'faint yet pursuing.'" 
 "Well," said the other, "I wish that I had your 
 courage ; but I do believe that I should not dare 
 to meet such another crowd as that we have just 
 
 203
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 passed through ; I really thought that they would 
 tear us in pieces." "Our king will never let that 
 be," said the other, "if only we trust in him." 
 "But are you sure," replied he, "that our king 
 does see us in this town.?" 
 
 Now, before his companion had time to answer 
 him again, they heard a louder noise than ever, 
 of men dancing and singing, and crowding, and 
 music playing, and horns blowing, as if all the 
 mad sports of the city were coming upon them in 
 one burst. At the front of all they could see their 
 old companion ; for the band had turned round 
 by a different street, and now were just beginning 
 to come down that one up which they were passing. 
 Then he who had been aifrighted before, turned 
 white as snow ; and he looked this way and that, 
 to see what he could do. 
 
 Now it so happened, that just by where they 
 stood was a great shop, and in its windows there 
 seemed to shine precious stones and jewels, and 
 fine crystals, and gold and ivory. So, as he 
 looked, his eyes fell full upon the shop, and he 
 said to his fellow, "Look here; surely here is 
 what we want ; let us turn in here and traffic for 
 our master, and then we shall escape all this rout 
 which is coming upon us." "No, no!" said the 
 other; "we must push on to the market; that is 
 our appointed place ; there our lord bids us trade ; 
 
 204
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 we must not turn aside from the trouble which 
 our lateness has brought upon us — we must not 
 offer to our master that which costs us nothing. 
 Play the man, and we shall soon be in the market." 
 " But we shall be torn in pieces," said the other. 
 " Look at the great crowd ; and even now it seems 
 that our old companion sees me, and is beginning 
 to lead the rabble upon us." "Never fear," said 
 he who led the way; "our king will help us. 
 'I will not be afraid for ten thousands of the 
 people who have set themselves against us round 
 about.'" 
 
 Then I saw that he to whom he spoke did not 
 seem to hear these last words, for the master of 
 the shop had noticed how he cast his eyes upon 
 the goods that were in the window ; and so he 
 came to the door, and begged him to come in. 
 "Come in, come in," he said, "before the crowd 
 sweep you away; come in and buy my pearls, and 
 my diamonds, and my precious stones ; come in, 
 come in." Now, while he halted for a moment 
 to parley with the man, the crowd came upon 
 them, and he was parted from his friend, who had 
 held up his fainting steps; and so he sprung 
 trembling into the shop, scarcely thinking himself 
 safe even there. 
 
 Now the man into whose house he had turned, 
 though he was a fair-spoken man, and one who 
 
 205
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 knew well how to seem honest and true, was 
 altogether a deceiver. All his seeming jewels, 
 and diamonds, and pearls, were but shining and 
 painted glass, which was worth nothing at all to 
 him who was so foolish as to buy it ; but this the 
 servant knew not. If it had been in the bright 
 clear light of the morning, he would easily have 
 seen that the diamonds and the pearls were only 
 sparkling and painted glass, and the gold nothing 
 but tinsel ; but the bright light of the morning had 
 passed away, and in the red slanting light of the 
 evening sun he could not see clearly ; and so the 
 false man persuaded him, and he parted with all 
 the rich treasures which his king had given him, 
 and got nothing for them in exchange which was 
 worth the having, for he filled his bag with bits 
 of painted glass, which his lord would never accept. 
 
 However, he knew not how he had been 
 cheated ; or if, perhaps, a thought crossed his 
 mind that all was not right, it was followed by 
 another, which said that it was now too late to 
 alter, and that if he had chosen wrongly, still he 
 must abide by it : and so he waited for the 
 trumpet. But he was not altogether happy ; and 
 often and often he wished that he had faced the 
 strife of the multitude, and pressed on with his 
 trusting companion to the market. 
 
 A hard struggle had been his before he had 
 
 206
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 reached it. It seemed indeed at times as if the 
 words of his fearful companion were coming true, 
 and he would be torn altogether to pieces, so 
 fiercely did the crowd press upon him and throng 
 him. Dut as I watched him in the thickest part 
 of it, I saw that always, just at his last need, 
 something seemed to favour him, and the crowd 
 broke off and left room for him to struggle by. 
 I could hear him chanting, as it were, to himself, 
 when the crowd looked upon him the most 
 fiercely, "I will not be afraid for ten thousands 
 of the people that have set themselves against me 
 round about." And even as he chanted the words, 
 the crowd divided itself in two parts, like a rushing 
 stream shding by some black rock; and on he 
 passed, as though they saw him not. 
 
 So it continued, even till he reached the market- 
 place. Right glad was he to find himself there ; 
 but even now all his trials were not over. Many 
 of the stalls were empty, and from many more 
 the fair and true traders were gone away ; and 
 instead of them were come false and deceitful 
 men, who tried to put off any who dealt with them 
 with pretended jewels and bad goods. 
 
 Then did he look anxiously round and round 
 the market, fearing every moment lest the trumpet 
 should sound before he had purchased anything 
 for his lord. Never, perhaps, all along the way, 
 
 207
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 did he so bitterly regret his early sloth as now, 
 for he wrung his hands together, and said in great 
 bitterness, "What shall I do?" and "How shall I, 
 a loiterer, traffic for my lord?" 
 
 Then his eyes fell upon a shop where were no 
 jewels, nor gold, nor costly silks, nor pearls of 
 great price; but all that was in it was coarse 
 sackcloth, and rough and hairy garments, and 
 heaps of ashes, and here and there a loaf of bitter 
 bread, and bitter herbs, and bottles wherein tears 
 were stored. As he gazed on this shop, something 
 seemed to whisper to his heart, "Go and buy." 
 So he went with his sorrowful heart, as one not 
 worthy to traffic for his master, and he bought 
 the coarsest sackcloth, and the ashes of affliction, 
 and many bitter tears ; and so he waited for the 
 sounding of the trumpet. 
 
 Then suddenly, as some loud noise breaks 
 upon the slumbers of men who sleep, that great 
 trumpet sounded. All through the air came its 
 voice, still waxing louder and louder ; and even 
 as it pealed across the sky, all that great city, and 
 its multitudes, and its lofty palaces, and its show, 
 and its noise, and its revels, all melted away, and 
 were not. And in a moment all the servants were 
 gathered together, and their lord and king stood 
 amongst them. All else was gone, and they and 
 their works were alone with him. 
 
 208
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 Then was there a fearful trial of every man's 
 work. Then were they crowned with light and 
 gladness who had risen early and traded diligently, 
 and who now brought before their master the fruit 
 of that toil, and labour, and pain. Each one had 
 his own reward ; and amongst the richest and the 
 best — as though he brought what the king greatly 
 loved — was his reward who brought unto his 
 master the offerings of gratitude from the broken- 
 hearted widow. 
 
 Then drew near the servant who had wasted 
 the morning, but had repented of his sloth, and 
 had fought his way through the crowds, and had 
 at last bought the sackcloth. So he drew near 
 with it ; and it looked poor, and mean, and coarse, 
 as he bore it amongst the heaps of gold, and jewels, 
 and silks, which lay piled up all around ; yet did 
 he draw near unto the king ; and as he came, he 
 spoke and said, "A broken and a contrite heart 
 wilt thou not despise." And as he spake, the king 
 looked graciously upon him ; a mild and an 
 approving smile sat upon his countenance, and 
 he spoke to him also the blessed words, "Well 
 done, thou good and faithful servant." Then did 
 the coarse sackcloth shine as the most rich 
 cloth of gold ; then did the ashes of the furnace 
 sparkle as a monarch's jewels; whilst every 
 bitter tear which was stored in the bottle 
 
 M. 209 14
 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS 
 
 changed into pearls and rubies which were above 
 all price. 
 
 Then the king turned to the careless servants, 
 and his voice was terrible to hear, and from his 
 face they fled away. I dared not to look upon 
 them ; but I heard their just and most terrible 
 sentence, and I knew that they were driven away 
 for ever from the presence of the king, in which 
 is life and peace ; and that they were bound under 
 chains and darkness, deeper and more dreadful 
 than those from which the king's son had graciously 
 dehvered them. 
 
 210
 
 THE PROPHET'S GUARD 
 
 [2 Kings vi 8 — 17] 
 
 It was the very earliest morning. The day- 
 was not breaking, as it does in this land of England, 
 with a dewy twilight and a gradual dawning — first 
 a dull glow all over the east, then blood-red rays, 
 catching any fleecy cloud which is stealing over 
 the sky, and turning all its misty whiteness into 
 gold and fire ; — but day was breaking as it does 
 in those eastern countries — sudden, and bright, 
 and hot. Darkness flew away as at a word ; the 
 thick shadows were all at once gone, and the broad 
 glaring sun rose proudly in the sky, rejoicing in 
 his strength. The people of the town woke up 
 again to life and business. Doors were flung wide 
 open, and some were passing through them ; the 
 flat roofs of the houses began to be peopled — on 
 one was a man praying, on others two or three 
 standing together ; but most of them were hasten- 
 ing here and there to get through their necessary 
 work before the full heat of the day came on; 
 numbers were passing and repassing to the clear 
 
 211 14 — 2
 
 THE PROPHET'S GUARD 
 
 dancing fountain, whose cool waters bubbled up 
 in the midst of a broad square within that city. 
 
 And now, what is it which one suddenly sees, 
 and, after gazing at it for awhile, points out to 
 another, and he to a third? As each hears, they 
 look eagerly up to the hill, which rises high above 
 their town, until they gather into a knot ; and 
 then, as one and another are added to their 
 company, grow into almost a crowd. Still it is 
 in the same quarter that all eyes are fixed; their 
 water-vessels are set idly down, as if they could 
 not think of them. Those which were set under 
 the fountain have been quite full this long time, 
 but no one stooped to remove them; and the 
 water has been running over their brimming sides, 
 while its liquid silver flew all round in a shower 
 of sparkling drops. But no one thinks of them. 
 What is it which so chains all eyes and fixes the 
 attention of all? 
 
 The hill is quite full of armed men. There 
 were none there overnight; they have come up 
 from the vale silently and stealthily during the 
 darkness, while men slept ; and like some great 
 mist rising from the waters, they seem to be 
 hemming in the town on every side. Look which 
 way you will, the sun lights upon the burnished 
 and brilliant points of spears, or falls on strong 
 shields, or flashes like lightning from polished 
 
 212
 
 THE PROPHET'S GUARD 
 
 and cutting swords, or is thrown a thousand ways 
 by the rolling wheels of those war-chariots. 
 "Who are they?" is the question of all; and no 
 one likes to say what all have felt for a long 
 time — "They are our enemies, and we are their 
 prey." 
 
 But there is no use shutting the eyes any 
 longer to the truth. The morning breeze has just 
 floated off in its waves that flag which before hung 
 down lifelessly by the side of its staff. It has 
 shewn all. They are enemies ; they are fierce 
 and bitter enemies ; they are the Syrians, and 
 they are at war with Israel. 
 
 But why are they come against this little town? 
 When they have licked up it and its people hke 
 the dust from the face of the earth, they will be 
 scarcely further on in their war against Israel. 
 Why did not they begin with some of the great 
 and royal cities ? Why was it not against Jeru- 
 salem, or Jezreel, or even against the newly-rebuilt 
 Jericho? Why should they come against this 
 little town? 
 
 Then one, an evil-looking man of a dark coun- 
 tenance, one who feared not God and loved not 
 his servants, whispered to those around him, and 
 said, "Have you not heard how Elisha the prophet, 
 who dwells amongst us, has discovered to the king 
 of Israel the secrets of the army of the king of 
 
 213
 
 THE PROPHET'S GUARD 
 
 Syria? No doubt it is because Elisha is dwelling 
 here that the king of Syria has come upon us. 
 And now shall we, and our wives, and our sweet 
 babes, and our houses, and our treasures, become 
 the prey of the king of Syria, for the sake of this 
 Elisha, I always thought that no good would 
 come from his dwelling here." 
 
 Now, fear makes men cruel and suspicious, 
 and fills their minds with hard thoughts ; and 
 many of these men were full of fear ; and so, 
 when they heard these words, they began to have 
 hard bad thoughts of God's prophet, and to hate 
 him as the cause of all the evils which they were 
 afraid would very soon come upon them. 
 
 Just then the door of another house opened: 
 it was the prophet's house, and his servant came 
 forth with the water-vessels to fill them at the 
 fountain. He wondered to see the crowd of men 
 gathered together, and he drew near to ask them 
 what was stirring. He could read upon their 
 dark scowling faces that something moved them 
 exceedingly; but what it was he could not gather. 
 He could not tell why they would scarcely speak 
 to him, but looked on him with angry faces, and 
 spoke under their breath, and said, "This is one 
 of them." " 'Twere best to give them up." " They 
 will destroy us all." Then the man was altogether 
 astonished ; for his master had been ever humble 
 
 214
 
 THE PROPHET'S GUARD 
 
 and kind and gentle ; no poor man had ever 
 turned away without help when he had come in 
 his sorrows to the prophet of the Lord. And yet, 
 why were they thus angry with him, if it were 
 not for his master's sake? 
 
 Broken sentences were all that he could gather ; 
 but, by little and little, he learned what they feared 
 and what they threatened ; he saw, also, the hosts 
 of armed men gathered all around the city; and 
 his heart, also, was filled with fear. He believed 
 that it was for his master's sake that they were 
 there ; he saw that all around him were turned 
 against his master, and he trembled exceedingly. 
 For some time he stood amongst the rest, scarce 
 knowing what to do, neither liking to remain nor 
 daring to go ; until at last, as some more stragglers 
 joined themselves to the company, he slunk away 
 like one ashamed, without stopping even to fill 
 the water-vessels he had brought. 
 
 And so he entered his own door, heavy-hearted 
 and trembling; and he went to the prophet's 
 chamber, for he deemed that he still slept. But 
 the man of God was risen ; and he knew, therefore, 
 where he should find him — that he would be upon 
 the flat roof of his house, calling upon the name 
 of the Lord his God, who had made another 
 morning's sun to rise in its glory. 
 
 So he followed his master to the house-top ; 
 
 215
 
 THE PROPHET'S GUARD 
 
 and there, even as he had supposed, he found the 
 holy man. It was a striking sight, could any one 
 have seen the difference between these two men — 
 the one pale and trembling and affrighted, hke 
 a man out of himself, and with no stay on which 
 to rest his mind ; the other calm and earnest, as, 
 in deep and solemn prayer, with his head bowed 
 and his hands clasped together, his low voice 
 poured forth his thanksgiving, or spake of his 
 needs ; he also, as it seemed, was out of himself, 
 but going out of himself that he might rest upon 
 One who was near to him though his eye saw 
 Him not, and who spake to him though his 
 outward ear heard no voice of words. 
 
 Thus he continued for a season, as if he knew 
 not that any man was nigh unto him; as if he 
 knew not that there were, in the great world 
 around him, any one besides his God with whom 
 he communed, and his own soul which spake 
 unto his God. All this time his servant stood 
 by him, pale and trembling, but not daring to 
 break in upon that hour of prayer : until at length 
 the prophet paused, and his eye fell upon the 
 trembler; and he turned towards him, and said 
 kindly, "What ails thee, my son.?" Then the 
 servant answered, " Oh, my father, look unto the 
 hill." And he stood gazing in the prophet's face, 
 as though he expected to see paleness and terror 
 
 216
 
 THE PROPHET'S GUARD 
 
 overspread it when his eyes gathered in the sight 
 of those angry hosts. But it was not so. No 
 change passed over his countenance ; his brow 
 was open as it was before ; the colour never left 
 his cheeks ; and, with almost a smile, he turned 
 unto the servant, and said, "And why does this 
 affright thee?" "It is for thee they seek, my 
 father — it is for thee they seek; and the wicked 
 men of the town are ready to fall upon thee and 
 deliver thee into their hands. Even now, as I 
 walked along the street, they looked on me with 
 fierce and cruel eyes ; and they breathed threats 
 which these lips may not utter, and said, that thou 
 hadst brought this trouble upon them and their 
 wives and their little ones ; and I feared that they 
 would curse thee and thy God." But the prophet 
 was not moved by his words, for he only answered, 
 " Fear them not ; they that are with us are more 
 than they that are against us." Then did the 
 servant cast his eyes to the ground, and he spake 
 not, yet his lips moved ; and if any one had 
 heard the words which he whispered, they might 
 perhaps have heard him ask how this could be, 
 when they were but two, and their enemies were 
 so many and so mighty. 
 
 Now the prophet's eye rested upon him, and 
 he read all his secret thoughts ; and he pitied his 
 weakness, for that holy man was full of pity for 
 
 217
 
 THE PROPHET'S GUARD 
 
 the weak ; so he chid him not ; but, bowing his 
 knees again on that flat roof, he prayed unto his 
 God to open those eyes which earthly fear had 
 darkened. His prayer was heard. For there 
 fell from them as it were films ; and now, when 
 he looked out, he saw a glorious sight. All the 
 mountain was full ; and they were a wonderful 
 company which filled it. The dark hosts of the 
 Syrians, and their glancing swords and clashing 
 chariots, now looked but as a mere handful ; for 
 the whole mountain round them was full of that 
 terrible army. Chariots of fire and horsemen of 
 fire thronged it in every part. High up into the 
 viewless air mounted their wheeling bands ; rank 
 beyond rank, and army beyond army, they seemed 
 to stretch on into the vastness of space, until his 
 wearied eye was unable to gaze on them. And 
 all of these were gathered round his master. 
 They were God's host, keeping guard over God's 
 servant. And they who would injure him must 
 first turn aside those flashing swords, must break 
 up that strong and serried array, and be able 
 to do battle with God's mighty angels. 
 
 Then was the weak heart strong. Then did 
 the poor trembler see that he was safe; and 
 know that he who is on God's side can never 
 want companions and defenders. 
 
 218
 
 THE BROTHERS' MEETING; 
 
 OR, THE SINS OF YOUTH 
 
 [Genesis xxxii 3 — 21, xxxiii i — 16] 
 
 A LARGE company was winding its way slowly 
 out of the vale in which the river Jordan runs. 
 The sun was just beginning to -'strike hotly upon 
 them, and make them long for rest and shelter, 
 as they toiled up the open sandy hills and amongst 
 the great masses of rock with which that country 
 was strewn. 
 
 It was a striking sight to see those travellers. 
 First went three troops of kine, lowing as they 
 went ; camels with their arched necks, stooping 
 shoulders, and forward ears ; asses with their 
 foals ; ewes and lambs ; and goats with their 
 kids, which mounted idly upon every rock that 
 lay by their road-side, and then jumped as idly 
 down again ; and before and after these, drivers 
 in stately turbans and long-flowing robes, keeping 
 the flocks and herds to their appointed way. 
 Then came large droves of cattle, and sheep, 
 
 219
 
 THE BROTHERS' MEETING 
 
 and goats, and asses, stirring up with their many 
 feet the dust of the sandy plain till it fell like a 
 gentle shower, powdering with its small grains 
 all the rough and prickly plants which grew in 
 tufts over the waste. Then there was a space, 
 and after that were seen two bands of camels — 
 the best they seemed to be of all the flock, those 
 which came last especially — and on them were 
 children and women riding, over whom hung 
 long veils to shelter their faces from the hot 
 breath of the sandy desert through which they 
 had travelled. And after all these came one 
 man, with a staff in his hand and a turban on 
 his head, walking slowly, as one Avho walked in 
 pain and yet walked on, following those who 
 went before. 
 
 If you had stood near to that man, you might, 
 perhaps, have heard him speaking to God in 
 prayer and thanksgiving ; you might have heard 
 him saying to himself, "with my staff passed I 
 over this Jordan, and now I am become two 
 bands"; or you might have heard him earnestly 
 calling upon the God of Abraham, and the God 
 of Isaac, his father, to keep him safe in the great 
 danger which now lay close before him. His 
 mind was certainly very full of that danger, for 
 he kept looking up from the sand on which his 
 eyes were often fixed, and gazing as far as he 
 
 220
 
 THE BROTHERS' MEETING 
 
 could see over the hills before him, as if he 
 expected to see some great danger suddenly meet 
 him on his way, and as if, therefore, he wished to 
 be quite ready for it. 
 
 If you looked into his face, you could see at 
 once that he was not a common man. He was 
 not a very old man; his hair was not yet grey 
 upon his head; and yet it seemed, when you 
 looked first at him, as if he was very old. But 
 as you looked closer, you saw that it was not so ; 
 but that his face seemed to speak of many, many 
 thoughts which had passed through his mind, 
 and left those deep marks stamped even on his 
 face. It was not only sorrow, though there was 
 much of that ; or care, though he was now full 
 of care ; but besides these, it seemed as if he had 
 seen, and done, and felt great things — things in 
 which all a man's soul is called up, and so, even 
 when they have passed away again, leave some 
 of their impressions stamped upon the face. 
 
 He HAD seen great things, and felt great 
 things. He had seen God's most holy angels 
 going up to heaven, and coming down to earth 
 upon their messages of mercy. He had heard 
 the voice of the Lord of all, promising to be his 
 Father and his Friend. And only the night 
 before, the Angel of the Covenant had made 
 himself known to him in the stillness of his lonely 
 
 221
 
 THE BROTHERS' MEETING 
 
 tent, and made him strong to wrestle with him 
 for a blessing, until the breaking of the day. 
 So that it was no wonder, that when you looked 
 into his face, it was not like the face of a 
 common man, but one which was full of thought, 
 which bore almost outwardly the stamp of great 
 mysteries. 
 
 But what was it which now filled this man 
 with care? He was returning home from a far 
 land where he had been staying twenty years, 
 to the land where his father dwelt. He had 
 gone out a poor man ; he was coming home a 
 rich man. He was bringing back with him his 
 wives, and his children, and his servants, and 
 his flocks, and his herds ; and of what was he 
 afraid? Surely he could trust the God who had 
 kept him and blessed him all these twenty years, 
 and who had led him now so far on his journey? 
 
 Why should he fear now, when he was almost 
 at his father's tent ? 
 
 It was because he heard that His brother 
 was coming to meet him. But why should this 
 fill him with such fear? Surely it would be a 
 happy meeting ; brothers born of the same father 
 and of the same mother, who had dwelt together 
 in one tent, kneeled before one father's knees in 
 prayer, and joined together in the common plays 
 of childhood— surely their meeting must be happy,
 
 THE BROTHERS' MEETING 
 
 now that they have been twenty years asunder, 
 and God had blessed them both, and they were 
 about to see each other again in peace and safety, 
 and to shew each other the children whom God 
 had given them, and who must remind them of 
 their days of common childhood. And why then 
 is the man afraid? Because when he left his 
 father's house this brother was very angry with 
 him, and he fears that he may have remembered 
 his anger all these twenty years, and be ready 
 now to revenge himself for that old quarrel. 
 
 And yet, why should this make such an one 
 to fear.? Even if his brother be still angry with 
 him, and have cruel and evil thoughts against 
 him, cannot God deliver him.? — cannot the same 
 God who has kept him safely all these twenty 
 years of toil and labour, help and save him now? 
 Why, then, does he fear so greatly? He has not 
 forgotten that this God can save him — he has not 
 for a moment forgotten it ; for see how earnestly 
 he makes his prayers unto Him; hear his vows 
 that if God will again deliver him, he and all of 
 his shall ever praise and serve Him for this mercy. 
 Yet still he is in fear ; and he seems like a man 
 who thought that there was some reason why the 
 God who had heard him in other cases should 
 not hear him in this. 
 
 What was it, then, which pressed so heavily 
 
 223
 
 THE BROTHERS' MEETING 
 
 upon this man's mind? It was the remembrance 
 of an old sin. He feared that God would leave 
 him now to Esau's wrath, because he knew that 
 Esau's wrath was God's punishment of his sin. 
 He feared that Esau's hand would slay his 
 children, as God's chastisement for the sins of 
 his childhood. He remembered that he had lied 
 to Isaac his father, and mocked the dimness of 
 his aged eyes by a false appearance ; now he 
 trembled lest his father's God should leave the 
 deceiver and the mocker to eat the bitter fruit 
 of his old sin. It was not so much Esau's wrath, 
 and Esau's company, and Esau's arms which he 
 feared — though all these were very terrible to this 
 peaceful man — as it was his own sin in days long 
 past, which now met him again, and seemed to 
 frown upon him from the darkness before him. 
 In vain did he strive to look on and see whether 
 God would guide him there, for his sin clouded 
 over the light of God's countenance. It was as 
 when he strained his eyes into the great sand- 
 drifts of the desert through which he had passed ; 
 they danced and whirled fearfully before him, 
 and baffled all the strivings of his eager eyes. 
 
 But the time of trial was drawing very near. 
 And how did it end.^ Instead of falling upon him 
 and slaying him and his ; instead of making a 
 spoil of the oxen, and the asses, and the imels, 
 
 224
 
 THE BROTHERS' MEETING 
 
 and giving the young children to the sword, 
 Esau's heart melted as soon as they met ; he fell 
 upon his brother's neck and kissed him ; he looked 
 lovingly upon the children who had been born to 
 him in the far land ; he spake kindly of the old 
 days of their remembered childhood, of the grey- 
 haired man at home ; and he would not take even 
 the present which his brother had set apart for 
 him. 
 
 Jacob knew who it was that had turned his 
 brother's heart, and he felt more than ever what 
 a strong and blessed thing prayer and supplication 
 was. Nor did he forget his childhood's sin against 
 his God. It had looked out again upon him in 
 manhood, and reminded him of God's holiness, 
 of his many past misdeeds, and made him pray 
 more earnestly not to be made to "possess the 
 iniquities of his youth." 
 
 i3 
 
 M. 225 15
 
 Cambriligc : 
 
 PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. 
 AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
 
 CENTRAL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 University of California, Saxi Diego 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 MAY 3 1975 
 
 i^Y 2 7 W 
 
 MAH 2 5 1976 
 
 HftR 197B