. ;:;
FROM-THE- LIBRARY-CF
TRINITYCOLLEGETORONTO
Gift from the Friends of the
Library, Trinity College
The rest jeered and laughed at the brave man.
AGATHOS
THE ROCKY ISLAND
AND OTHER SUNDAY STORIES
BY
SAMUEL WILBERFORCE, D.JD.
LATE BISHOP OF WINCHESTER
1 My speech shall distil as the dew, as the small rain upon the tendei
herb. DEUT. xxxii. 2.
Even a child is known by his doings. PKOV. xx. n.
NEW EDITION
LONDON
SEELEY AND CO. LIMITED
38 GREAT RUSSELL STREET
1905
i *
r .
CONTENTS.
PAGE
AGATHOS; OR, THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD . . .II
THE RAVENS IN THE FAMINE ....... 22
THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON ,,... 28
THE CHILDREN AND THE LION , , t . 35
THE STORM AT SEA ..,<. t i . 40
THE TWO ROADS . . , i 48
THE SPRING MORNING t i t t $9
THE RUNNERS ...... j ... 85
THE YOUNG SHEPHERD . . IOI
THE TENT ON THE PLAIN HOLY BAPTISM . IO6
PREFACE.
THE following allegories and stories have been
actually related by the Author to his children on suc
cessive 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 employ
ments 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
* Herbert s Country Pastor, cxxvii.
Viii PREFACE.
amusing employments, if they love (and all children
should be made to love them) the times of relaxation
in which they 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, and 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 from all lowering down of holy things, or
PREFACE. IX
making the mysteries of the faith common and cheap
to childish imaginations. Against this most dan
gerous evil, which appears to him to infest and
poison many of the current religious books for chil
dren, 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 understanding, they
can never truly comprehend, may make them shrewd
and forward questioners, but cannot make them meek
and teachable disciples.
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 narratives, and
the youngest has understood the most difficult. All
the applications of the allegorical tales they, of course,
will not understand at first ; but in the Author s judg-
X PREFACE.
ment, this is the very excellence of allegorical instruc
tion. 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 anything 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 biess some of the tender lambs of
His fold
SUNDAY STORIES.
I.
AGATHOS ; OR, THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD.
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. 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 pro-
14 AGATHOS; OR,
vided 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 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
THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD. 1 5
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 trouble
some 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 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 his 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
16 AGATHOSJ OR,
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 oft" the brazen
sandals from his swollen feet, or cease watching care
fully 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 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
tdten 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
THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD. I/
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 some
thing seemed to tell him it was too late now : that he
would not bear the burden of his armour, and there
fore that there was no one to help him and he turned
to fly, but the place 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
1 8 AGATHOS J OR,
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 awhile, 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 a 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 noonday was come, and Agathos,
who had watched long, had gone into his tent and laid
down to get a little needful sleep, whilst his com
panions were all around the 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 for
gotten armour ; and one seized a sword and made
THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD. 19
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 well-nigh 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 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, be
cause 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
20 AGATHOS ; OR,
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 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 shower of fiery darts
which the evil one poured forth; yet even as he
THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD. 21
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 de
stroyer. The battle still was raging when the sun
went down ; and the good soldier was well-nigh sink
ing, when he gathered all his might into one strong
blow, and calling out aloud upon the name of his
Prince, he smote the Dragon so fiercely that he 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 even
ing ; and he heard his voice, and he saw his coun
tenance, and his happy dream was more than true,
and he dwelled for ever in the presence of his Prince.
FATHER. My dear children, can you tell me what
passage of God s Word this is meant to explain to
you?
CHILD. Yes ; I think it must be those verses which
I learned the other day from the sixth chapter of St.
Paul s Epistle to the Ephesians. Take unto you the
whole armour of God, that ye may be able to with
stand in the evil day, and, having done all, to stand.
Stand, therefore, having your loins girt about with
truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness.
And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel
of peace. Above all, taking the shield of faith, where
with ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of
the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation and
22 AGATHOS; OR,
the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God
Praying always, with all prayer and supplication in
the Spirit.
F. Yes ; it is meant to explain this : and can you
tell me who the Prince is, who had fought himself
with the enemy, and now sends out his soldiers to
fight?
C. Jesus Christ our Saviour, who once fought with
Satan for us, and now sends out His people to resist
him.
F. Who are His soldiers ?
C. All those who are members of His Church.
F. Can you remember what the Baptismal Service
says about this ?
C. When the minister makes the sign of the cross
upon the child s forehead, he says that he does it in
token that he shall not be ashamed to confess the faith
of Christ crucified, but manfully to fight under his
banner against sin, the world, and the devil, and to
continue Christ s faithful soldier and servant unto his
life s end/
F. What does the Catechism call Satan, against
whom you are to strive ?
C. My ghostly enemy.
F. Who are safe against him ?
C. Those who live in prayer and watchfulness, and
keep on all the Christian armour.
F. Who are tempted to lay aside these ?
C. We all are ; for we are all apt to grow weary in
watching and prayer.
THE WHOLE ARMOUR OF GOD. 23
F. What will happen to us if we do grow weary, and
cease to watch ?
C. We shall be overtaken by the devil, and become
his prey.
F. If we watch, are we safe ?
C. Yes, for Christ our Master will then keep us.
F. What has He promised us about this in His
Word?
C. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you/
James iv. /,
II,
THE RAVENS IN THE FAMINE.
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 selling bread and meat to the people who
came to buy. The man threw them each a lump of
THE RAVENS IN THE FAMINE. 2$
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 fed one of the
Prophets. If anyone 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
we know that anyone 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
26 THE RAVENS IN THE FAMINE.
streams which had leaped 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.
CHILD. There was a great famine in that land.
FATHER. 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.
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 kneel
ing down and lifting up his hands towards the sky,
and saying, O Lord God, who hast kept me hitherto,
The ravens flew over all that land till they came to a cave in the side of;
high sandy hill.
THE RAVENS IN THE FAMINE. 29
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.
F. Can you tell me where this story comes from ?
C. Yes; we may read it in the seventeenth
chapter of the first Book of Kings.
F. Who was it that was thus fed by Ravens ?
C. The prophet Elijah, by the brook Cherith.
F. Why did God thus take care of him ?
C. Because he was His faithful servant.
F. Yes, my child, and so it shall always be. He
will never leave nor forsake those who trust in Him
and serve Him truly. He will feel and care for a child
that prays to Him. The young lions do lack and
suffer hunger ; but they who trust in the Lord shall
want no manner of thing that is good 1
III.
THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON.
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 he
THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON. 3!
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 out
side 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 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 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
32 THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON.
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 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
THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON. 3$
boy, and went with his father upon the lake of Gene-
sareth 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 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 been so
long in the darkness. And what is that voice which
says to him, f 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 hands 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
34 THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON.
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,
md 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 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 un
known 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 ex
pectation of the people of the Jews. And he went to
that room where the servants of the Lord were toge
ther 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.
They pass through it into the open air.
IV
THE CHILDREN AND THE LION.
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, c My dear chil
dren, 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.
38 THE CHILDREN AND THE LION.
C. How pleased the little 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.
F. 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 lion, who is always walking up and down it,
to find some one to devour. There are reasons, which
you cannor 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 on
you, and when the sun is the brightest, and the birds
the gayest, and all is most beautiful around you, and
THE CHILDREN AND THE LIO*.
39
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 thoughtful ;
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
4O THE CHILDREN AND THE LION.
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 just
when they were the gayest, they heard their father s
voice, saying, sadly and seriously, Remember / 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
THE CHILDREN AND THE LION.. 41
on their father, and he ever stood beside them, and
saved them from his fangs.
* Now do you remember anything like this in the
Bible ?
Yes, I remember the text which says, " Be sober,
be vigilant, because your adversary the devil goeth
about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour."
I suppose that he is the lion/
F. Yes, my dear children, he is ; and who is the
kind father who is ever near to hear when they
call?
C. Is not that God, whom we are taught to call our
heavenly Father?
F. Yes it is God, and Jesus Christ our Saviour, who
are ever near those who trust in them, and who will
hear as soon as ever they call, and who will help
and deliver them from the devil and his snares.
So that you see, my dear children, how you must
watch, if you would be kept safe from this great
enemy. You must watch and pray ; watch that you
may pray, and pray that you may be safe.
V.
THE STORM AT SEA.
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 fol
lowed 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 rain
bow.
When the wind began to rise, everyone was busy
on board the ship. The sailors were running about,
pulling the ropes, and shaking out the sails, and draw
ing up the anchor ; and the captain was walking here
and there, and seeming to thirJc that they could
never work hard enough, or get the ship quick enough
THE STORM AT SEA. 43
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 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 sad now. He hardly spoke to any one,
and he looked often out into the air and the sky, as if
44 THE STORM AT SEA.
he saw strange things there, which were seen by no
one beside. When anyone 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. How
ever, he was not much noticed, for everyone was busy
except himself, and had little time for looking
at him. The sailors indeed would shrug their shoul
ders sometimes, 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. Everyone 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 find plenty of gold and silver, and
ivory and apes (i Kings x. 22) 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
THE STORM AT SEA. 45
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 whistling among the
cords ; and hark ! what crack of the sail was that? We
shall not long 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 trie costly
46 THE STORM AT SEA.
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 to
gether/ So they brought it up, beautiful ears of wheat
from Judaea, 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 which of the gods
had sent this storm : for they thought that there were
manygods ; 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 gar
ments, 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
THE STORM AT SEA. 47
earnest. Yet still the storm ceased not, but it tossed
and reared worse and worse.
The captain s voice was then heard, and he said,
We must cast lots and see for whose sake this dread
ful 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 before them some terrible thing which no one
else beheld. Soon the lots were given out, and tne
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 pro
phet 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
48 THE STORM AT SEA.
in the morning, when it burnt bright at noon, wten it
set in the sullen sea at night, ever God was witn him,
and he could not fly from his presence ; and now tha*
He had sent this storm, he doubted not, as His mes
senger of wrath.
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 accord
ing 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 flymg from God was frighted
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
THE STORM AT SEA. 49
closed over him, and they saw him no 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 seaweeds, 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 com
manded 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.
VI.
THE TWO ROADS. A DREAM.
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 con
tinually. They were of all sorts and ages, rich and
poor, young and old, sickly and strong ; and I won
dered, in my dream, what it was that brought them all
together.
Then I thought that I walked into the middle of
the crowd, to see what they were about, and then 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
THE TWO ROADS. 5 1
which of these 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 whc
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 everyone 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 spark
ling by, so that no one need be thirsty who could stoop
down and drink. Then everyone 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 flowers, and the sun shone, and the rivulets
danced, and all seemed alive arid 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
52 THE TWO ROADS.
as the other was wide. It seemed indeed hardly wide
enough to let anyone 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, everyone
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 willing to let go her child rather than be kept with
out, 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 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
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
THE TWO ROADS. 53
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 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 f 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 who had put them up was 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
54 THE TWO ROADS.
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 like, 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 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 thoughtlessness, 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 ; but
they were always persuading everyone 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
THE TWO ROADS. 55
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 anyone whom they did
not tear sometimes. Those 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 anyone 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 led them out too easily.
Now I had a great curiosity to see how these roads
went on ; and as I watched the walkers 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 sursly miss the track, and
be in a moment in the thorns ; but instead of this, it
56 THE TWO ROADS.
seemed as if he thus kept on straighter and quickef
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 read
ing out, Through Thy commandments I get under
standing, 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 always been 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 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,
THE TWO ROADS. 57
a brignt 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 road ;
they were ever turning round as if something affrighted
them, or else pushing on madly as if they were run
ning away from thought ; and I could see, on looking
closely, that the thorns still stuck in them and festered,
and pricked them afresh at nearly 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
4
58 THE TWO ROADS.
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 around 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 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
THE TWO ROADS. 59
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.
I. What text does this dream bring into your
mind ?
Enter ye in at the strait gate : for wide is the gate
and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and
many there be which go in thereat. Because strait is
the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth unto
life: and few there be that find it (Matth. vii. 13
2. What makes the way so narrow to us ?
Our sins, which we must deny and fight against.
3. What are the thorns along the way ?
The trials and difficulties of living as a Christian
4. To whom is the way easiest ?
To those who enter on it in youth and childhood
5. What does it get to those who go on in it ?
Easy and pleasant. Her ways are ways of plea
santness, and all her paths are peace (Prov. iii. 17).
6. What does it end in ?
60 THE TWO ROADS.
Everlasting joys.
7. What are the flowers along the broad way ?
The pleasures of sin.
8. Why do they fade ?
Because they are but for a season (Heb. x. 25).
9. What are the thorns which fester and prick those
who have left the narrow way ?
The reproofs of conscience.
10. What is the joy of sinners like ?
( The crackling of thorns under the pot (Eccles,
vii. 6).
11. What is the end of the broad
Everlasting burnings.
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 light hearts laughed
in their glad eyes, as they ran here and there in their
sports and frolics. 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 murmuring stream
which ran through the bottom of the garden, or re
freshing 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.
62 THE SPRING MORNING.
There was something most kind and tender in this
man s face and 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.
1 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 unhappy ; and then, worst of all, when
the sun began to set, you would hear the roaring of
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.
: THE SPRING MORNING. 63
1 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.
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 fol
lowed 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 cao
ever part you more.
64 THE SPRING MORNING.
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 yon, you are lost.
Then you would surely lose the foot-track, and either
the miry 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 a 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
THE SPRING MORNING. 65
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 little reed-flute, which he called * Prayer/ and showed
them how to play upon it. Now they were common-
looking flutes, but when they were touched by the breath
methought the music they sent forth was most sweet
and piercing. When the little Agap& especially (for
that was the name of the boy who had asked whether
he should see his father and his mother in the garden)
when Agape put his to his lips, 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 awhile, as if
they were thinking over the words that he had spoken ;
their echo seemed still to be speaking to them in the
silence, and no one liked 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*
66 THE SPRING MORNING.
So should I, 1 said Argia, and to sit a little longer
on this hill, and eat a few more of these refreshing
strawberries before we set out on the long tiring
journey. What say you, Astathes ?
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 will 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, Agapk ?
1 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 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
THE SPRING MORNING. 67
at his side, and set out, and Astathes with him, for the
side of the garden towards the plain. Then Edon&
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 Edon& 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 Agap&
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 ot
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.
So they walked on together, and began talking as
little boys might talk.
Oh, Agape, said Astathes, * I wonder how long the
journey will take us ! I long to get safely to its end.
1 1 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 !
1 Yes, and there I shall see again my father and
mother, and the kind sister who used to nurse me
68 THE SPRING MORNING.
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 Agape, 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 heard the voice of Astathes, who had
not yet crossed the stile.
* Wait a minute, Agap& ; 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.
Agap& 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
THE SPRING MORNING. 69
never keep up with you. I think I shall just stop be
hind, and come after you with Argia and Edone ; 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 already almost out of sight over the
first hill. So he stood for a time, and then when he
could see no more of Agape, and could hear nothing
of the others, the stillness of the place began to
frighten him ; and so after awhile he stole back again
to Edon& and Argia, who were still sitting on the
pleasant bank, eating strawberries.
70 THE SPRING MORNING.
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, how
ever, 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 Agape. So as these thoughts passed
through his mind, he said to his two companions, * Had
we not better be thinking about setting off? he spoke
as if he was half afraid to say it, and Argia sleepily an
swered, 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 teaze
us about going.
THE SPRING MORNING. 71
I am sure I wish I had, he answered sadly enough,
at which Edon& 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 Agape, 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 Agap&
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 Agap& ? He had 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 find
ing 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 wilder
ness he compassed him about (Deut. xxxii. 10).
Then he thought of the king, and his heart was lifted
up, and straightway he was at the top of the hill. Now
72 THE SPRING MORNING.
his path lay for a while downhill ; and he stepped on
cheerfully and easily, until he came into a low green
bottom, and 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 Agape 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 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 drank, his ears seemed to be rilled
with these kind words : The sun shall not smite thee
by day, neither the moon by night (Psalm cxxi. 6).
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
^ THE SPRING MORNING. 73
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 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 night
fall, for * How/ he said to himself, if it was but twi
light 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 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
5
74 THE SPRING MORNING.
away into the thicket ; and Agap6 saw him no more,
but instead of his loud angry growl, it seemed as il
the refreshing breeze in the tree-tops formed itself
into words, and it said to him, Watch and pray that
ye enter not into temptation. Resist the devil, and
he shall flee from you.
Then Agapk 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 per
haps 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 foot-prints ; and forthwith 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 foot-sore 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 beasts in the wood
THE SPRING MORNING. 75
that he had left, roar and moan, but they came not
near him ; and after awhile the storm passed over, the
sky cleared again overhead, 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 be
wailing his folly that he had not gone with Agape,
until at last, looking up into the sky, he saw that the
sun was past mid-day, 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 thai?
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 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, tt was long before he could
76 THE SPRING MORNING.
stir it, or get the least drop from it. At last, however
he did, and 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 Agap& 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 wound
ing 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, foaming, 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
THE SPRING MORNING. 77
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 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
?8 THE SPRING MORNING.
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 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
THE SPRING MORNING. 79
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 knocked with all
his force ; and 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, Astathes
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 light. 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
80 THE SPRING MORNING.
eyes 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 little 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, 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
finder their shelter ; and this raised his spirits, so that
THE SPRING MORNING. 8 1
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 dark
ness ; 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 Edone 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 Edone 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 play
fully from him, whilst Argia still slept on in the plea
sant 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 uppn
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
82 THE SPRING MORNING.
dead ; when just at that moment Edon& shook tht
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 hearing 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 ran straight to the stile over
which Agap& and 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 reached 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/
Q. What was the pleasant garden, and who were
these boys in it ?
THE SPRING MORNING. 83
A. The garden is this world and its pleasures, and
the boys are the children of Christian people.
Q. Who bade them set out early, and gave them
1 prayer and * promise to help them ?
A. Jesus Christ our Saviour gave them these in
His Church, into which they had been received at
baptism.
Q. Who set out directly ?
A. Agape, or Love, who longed to reach the better
country.
Q. Who set out with him, but turned back at the
stile ?
A. Astathes, or the Waverer.
Q. What was the stile that turned him back ?
A. The first difficulties of self-denial in the service
of Christ.
Q. Why was the journey of Agape easy ?
A. Because he set out early, and religion is easiest
to those who do so.
Q. What is meant by the beautiful music of his
flute?
A. That his prayers were heavenly, and that he had
much communion with God.
Q. What did this save him from ?
A. All the dangers of the way.
Q. When Astathes went back from the stile, whom
did he join ?
A. His worldly companions, who would not set out
yet in Christ s service.
Q. Was he truly happy with them ?
84 THE SPRING MORNING.
A. No ; for there is no true friendship or happiness
without God.
Q. Was this unhappiness of use to him ?
A. Yes, it led him to set out in earnest for a better
country.
Q. Was his journey as easy as that of Agape ?
A. No ; all his difficulties and dangers were greater,
it was much harder to begin to serve God.
Q. What is meant by his flute being choked with
mud ?
A. That prayer cannot rise from an earthly
heart.
Q. What is meant by the water in which he was
almost lost, making it easier for him to play on it ?
A. That affliction often teaches men to pray in
earnest.
Q. Did his troubles last ?
A. Yes ; almost all through his journey, he had
more difficulty and less comfort than Agap&.
Q. Tell me, in the language of Scripture, why this
was?
A. Because he did not Remember his Creator in
the days of his youth, before the evil days come, and
the years draw nigh, wherein, he said, * I have no plea
sure in them.
Q. Was he received at last ?
A. Yes ; of God s mercy he did reach the heavenly
place.
Q. Did Edone, or Pleasure ?
A. No ; whilst he was selfishly trying to escape
THE SPRING MORNING. 85
by leaving his friend to be destroyed, he was overtaken
by destruction.
Q. What is meant by the flute of Argia being bent
and broken in his sleep ?
A. That a life of worldliness and indolence robs a
man of the power of prayer.
Q. What is meant by his getting so easily over the
stile ?
A. That in the terror of punishment, men whose
hearts are not truly turned to God, often make great
efforts to escape when it is too late.
Q. Did Argia, or * Indolence, who waited till even
tide, escape ?
A. We know not, for some are received at the
eleventh hour ; but we greatly fear that he perished.
VIII.
THE RUNNERS.
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, between 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 crowns to all who
A herald began to read to them the rules of the race.
THE RUNNERS. 89
strove earnestly in that race ; that these crowns would
be brighter than any crowns of this earth ; and that
he would take everyone 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 any
thing ; 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 drinking, 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.
pO THE RUNNERS.
Even amongst those who were better prepared, 1
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 wait
ing 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 on, they were soon
left altogether behind. Then I saw that one and an
other 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
THE RUNNERS. 91
that he had lost, and I could see him still following,
though far behind, and looking very weary and dis
tressed, 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 speak to
this man in a grave sad voice as he went by, and he
seemed to say to him : Let him that thinketh he
standeth, take heed lest he fall (i Cor. x. 12).
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 be
hind him came another, and he, too, methought,
promised well for a crown, for he too had a strong
Q2 THE RUNNERS.
step and an active body ; but his eyes, too, were wan
dering, 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 (Phil. iii. 14) ; and to the other, Laying aside
every weight (Heb. xii. i) ; 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 little while
THE RUNNERS. 93
before, and he had been the front of all ; and then he
had stopped to take breath, as though he were confi
dent that at any time he could regain the ground that
he had lost : 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
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.
Now behind them came a fair child, beautiful to
look upon, and almost with the face of an angel ; but
94 THE RUNNERS.
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 un
sound, 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
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
raw his eyes sparkle, and he turned a little on one
THE RUNNERS. 95
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 counte
nance 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
to 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,
96 THE RUNNERS.
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 faith
ful runner hastened on his way ; and even the tarry
ing runner trembled and set out again upon his
course. But he could not bring himself 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.
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 run
ning. 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
beard a sound of the sweetest music, and I saw, on
THE RUNNERS. 97
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 ; 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 welcome ; 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
p8 THE RUNNERS.
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 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
little 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 stretched out at length, and fast asleep. So I
tried to awaken him, but could not he only turned
THE RUNNERS. 99
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 unwarned, for it was written
up over the doorway by which he had come in, Sloth-
fulness 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.
Q. Do you remember any passages of Scripture
which this may explain ?
A. Yes : * So run that ye may obtain. * I therefore
so run, not as uncertainly, . . . but I keep under my
body, and bring it into subjection. . . . They do it
to obtain a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible
(i Cor. ix. 24 27). * Let us lay aside every weight,
100 THE RUNNERS.
and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us
run with patience the race that is set before us (Heb,
xii. 1).
Q. What then is the race ?
A. The Christian life.
Q. What is the crown ?
A. Everlasting life.
Q. Who is it that gives it ?
A. Our heavenly Father.
Q. Who are they who set out unprepared ?
A. Those who have been baptized, and are called
Christians, but who will not strive to serve God.
Q. Who is he that ran so bravely, but fell whilst he
was looking about him ?
A. One who set out well, but fell away through
trusting in himself and not in Christ.
Q. Who was he whom the gay bird lured away ?
A. One who follows the pleasures of sin, which are
but for a season.
Q. Who was it that stopped to gather the golden
fruits ?
A. One whom the love of riches and earthly plea
sures tempted to forget heaven and Christ s promised
crown.
Q. Who was it that was asleep in the arbour ?
A. The slothful man who wishes to get to heaven,
but will not take the trouble of going on serving God.
Q. And who was he who did not promise much at
first, but kept his eyes fixed on the end, and the
soonest got the crown ?
THE RUNNERS. IOI
A. One who makes no noise about his religion, bul
looks steadily to Christ, and to the end, and so who
serves God truly.
Q. And what do the three who came in together
teach you ?
A. That Christ will hold up the weak, and the
lame, and children too, and carry them safely to the
end, if they will trust in Him, and strive earnestly to
serve Him ; and that God s service is easier to holy
children than to any others.
Q. What is to be learned from him who came in
last?
A. That they who begin to serve Christ late, have
more difficulties than others ; but that if they strive
mightily, and call in earnest on Him for help, He
will at last carry them through in safety, and give
them the crown of life.
IX.
THE YOUNG SHEPHERD.
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 vener
able man and his eight sons. The three who were the
nearest to their father looked like soldiers. They be
longed 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 YOUNG SHEPHERD. 1 03
The old man looked happily round upon his 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, bis 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 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
104 1HE YOUNG SHEPHERD.
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 shep
herd 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 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
THE YOUNG SHEPHERD. IO5
only is excellent, and His praise above heaven and
earth (Ps. cxlviii. 7 12).
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.
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
106 THE YOUNG SHEPHERD.
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
X.
THE TENT ON THE PLAIN.
1 And he was baptised, he and all his, straightway*
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 ; some-
7
108 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN.
times a mother would pass in with an infant in her
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, 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
h<* called them to him.
THE TENT ON THE PLAIN IOQ
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
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 him
self ; 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
JIO THE TENT ON THE PLAIN.
those that undertook 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 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
THE TENT ON THE PLAIN. Ill
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 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 ; arid 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.
112 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN.
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 shield
ing in her bosom ; so he looked upon her again, and
spoke and said, And 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 ringers. Then the man made them observe,
that there was such virtue in these rings, that though
THE TENT ON THE PLAIN. 113
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 ^as 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 king 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
114 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN.
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, from the chim
neys 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 honey
suckle 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. ID
THE TENT ON THE PLAIN. 11$
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. 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 anyone could mark it.
Il6 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN.
Then methought my guide touched me again, and
we stood in another cottage. It was something 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 I bethought
me that she was one of the careless ones on whom the
king s minister had looked very cadly, 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 spark
ling light on his ring ; and alas ! when I looked at it
nearer, I 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 down
stairs, 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, a*id 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
THE TENT ON THE PLAIN. II?
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
boys I had seen in the morning, but I marked no
difference between them, for they sported and played
about like the rest.
Then the man took from under his cloak a won
derful 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/ on another, bad words/ and
on another, deceit/ and on another, greediness/ and on
the most hateful-looking of all, which had a long veno
mous 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 ripe fruit,
which they had been told not to touch, and then
deceit would whisper to them that nobody would
Il8 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN.
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 1
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 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
THE TENT ON THE PLAIN. 119
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 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 (Ps. Ixxi. 9). 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 I 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
120 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN.
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 lock 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 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
1 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
THE TENT ON THE PLAIN 121
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 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. Soros I took for angels, and
122 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN.
some methought 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 faith
fully.
Q. Who is the king who takes rebels as his
soldiers ?
A. The Lord our God, who says, Am not I a
great king ?
Q. Who are these rebels ?
A. All mankind ; for it is written, All have
sinned and come short of the glory of God (Rom.
iii. 23). And again : We were by nature children of
wrath, even as others (Eph. ii. 3).
Q. When does God receive us out of this state ?
A. At our baptism, Wherein we are made members
THE TENT ON THE PLAIN. 123
of Christ, children of God, and inheritors of the king
dom of heaven. *
Q. What is the ring of adoption ?
A. Our being taken to be God s own children.
Q. What is the sparkling stone ?
A. The faith by which we must ourselves believe in
Christ, if we would be saved.
Q. What is the meaning of the stone becoming dull ?
A. A child of God growing up unfaithful, or forget
ful of Him.
Q. Will baptism do such children any good ?
A. No, not if they continue unfaithful ; for then at
last they cast off the ring of adoption.
Q. What is baptism to such persons ?
A. A greater condemnation ; as God says, Amos
iii. 2.
Q. How soon may we begin to fight the good fight
of faith ?
A. As soon as we know anything.
Q. What are the dreadful forms which the glass
showed ?
A. Temptations to sin.
Q. Then are little children tempted to sin ?
A. Yes ; that they are, very often.
Q. And how must they resist ?
A. By remembering whose children they are ; and
that God the Father sees them ; and that He for
Christ s sake will help them if they pray, and so by
asking always for His help.
Catechism
o
124 THE TENT ON THE PLAIN.
Q. What are the good forms the glass showed ?
A. The helps God will give to those who pray tc
Him.
Q. What are we to learn from the dying boy ?
A. That God will take holy children to dwell with
Him for ever in His heavenly glory.
THE END.
THE ROCKY ISLAND,
AND
OTHER SIMILITUDES
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
12 THE ROCKY ISLAND.
with the bright-coloured berries of a 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 running 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 utter
ing 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 won
dered 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 together, 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, you will all be certainly killed, if you stay upon
this rocky island. Here no one ever grows up hap
pily. Here all play turns into death the burning
mountain and the forked lightning, and the dreadful
breath of the hill-storm these sweep down over all
A rough rocky island rising straight out of the midst of a roaring sea.
THE ROCKY ISLAND. 1 3
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 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,
14 THE ROCKY ISLAND.
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 moun
tain, 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 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.
Now when they heard this, all the children wished to
jump 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.
* Rev. xxii. 3.
THE ROCKY ISLAND. 15
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, pretending they had left all
behind them.
Then I saw that the man gave different presents to
each of them, as they seated themselves in the boats.
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 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 you are becalmed and so 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
THE ROCKY ISLAND.
upon the blue of the firmament ; 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 np their breasts to waft them
Their .little boats danced lightly and joyfully over the
trackless waves.
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 four of
the boats kept well together, and followed steadily in
THE ROCKY ISLAND. 1 7
the track of the leader s vessel ; then there was a long
space of 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 com
mand. 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 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
1 8 THE ROCKY ISLAND.
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 alto
gether wide of the track along which they should
have passed.
Then I looked closely at another, which was shoot-
Ing 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 suddenly upon a hidden rock,
which broke a hole in its wooden sides, and the water
rushed 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
THE ROCKY ISLAND. 19
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 companion 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 show 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 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 on far on
his voyage even in this time of darkness, so that some
times 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 Jiis 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
20 THE ROCKY ISLAND.
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 began to amuse 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 instrument, and played
upon it with all his earnestness, its soft breath, as it
whispered to the wind, soon woke up its gentle sigh
ing ; the long flag lifted itself on high ; 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 faith-
ful 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
THE ROCKY ISLAND. 21
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
unto the desired haven. But sad was it for him if,
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 sailing 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 unhappy wanderer ; and it
9
22 THE ROCKY ISLAND.
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, 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 chil
dren of one family ; and that all the voyage through
they were helping, cheering, and directing one another.
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 others ; but to everyone there
was a deep night and a troubled sea. I saw, too, that
THE ROCKY ISLAND. 23
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 gloom 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
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 out of it
into * the haven where they would be. Sweet sounds
broke upon their glad ears even as they left that dark
ness. 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
24 THE ROCKY ISLAND.
welcome them. Amidst these moved up and down
shining forms of beautiful beings, such as the chil
dren 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.
Father. Who are the children playing on the shores
of the rocky island ?
Child. The fallen children of fallen parents, born
into this sinful world.
F. What does the burning mountain, and the light
ning, and the hill-storm represent ?
C. The wrath of God ever burning against sinners.
F. Who is He who warned these thoughtless
children ?
THE ROCKY ISLAND. 2 5
C. The Lord Jesus, who, by His ministers, warns
men to * flee from the wrath to come.
F. What are the boats by which they are to
escape ?
C. The ark of Christ s Church/ into which we are
admitted by baptism.
F. Many of the children who embarked in the boats
were lost what is shown by this ?
C. That it is not enough to be received into the
congregation of Christ s flock ; but that we must
always * manfully fight under His banner against the
world, the flesh, and the devil, and continue Christ s
faithful soldiers and servants unto our lives end.
F. What is the compass, and the musical instru
ment, and the bread, and the water ?
C. God s Word, and the privilege of prayer and
holy sacraments, and the other gifts of God to His
Church.
F. What is the gentle wind which the musical
instrument awoke ?
C. The grace of God s Holy Spirit, promised to the
members of His Church, to be sought by earnest
prayer, and in all the means of grace.
F. What means the boy playing with the berries
and so striking on the rock ?
C. One who, having been given up to Christ in
baptism, follows worldly pleasures, and so makes
shipwreck of the faith.
F. What are the dark places and calms into which
different boats enter ?
26 THE ROCKY ISLAND.
C. The different temptations and dangers of the
Christian life.
F. What are the threatening waves which seemed
to be right ahead of the boat ?
C. The dangers and self-denials which they must
meet with who will follow Christ.
F. What is meant by the boat which turned aside,
and ran upon the shoal ?
C. That they who will turn aside from following
Christ, because danger and self-denials meet them,
cannot reach heaven.
F. What is shown in the boat which followed this
one?
C. How ready we are to follow a bad example, and
go beyond it.
F. What was the little company of boats which kept
together ?
C. A Christian family earnestly serving God.
F. Why did those who helped others find that they
got on the fastest ?
C. Because God, who has bid us bear one another s
burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ/ will greatly
help and bless all such.
F. What is the belt of storm and darkness which
all must pass through ?
C. Death.
F. Why were all separated in it ?
C. Because we must die alone.
F. Who are those that generally passed through it
most easily ?
THE ROCKY ISLAND. 2J
C. Those whose life had been most holy and
obedient. Keep innocency, and take heed unto the
thing that is right ; for that shall bring a man peace
at the last (Ps. xxxvii. 38).
F. Who were the next ?
C. Those who entered on it with much prayer.
F. What was their great support in it ?
C. The presence of Jesus Christ our Lord.
F. What declaration have we on this subject in
God s Word ?
C. When thou passest through the waters, I will
be with thee. I am the resurrection and the life ; he
that believeth in Me shall never die.
F. What lies beyond this to the faithful Christian ?
C. The blessed rest of paradise and the bright
glories of heaven.
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.
Thej/ 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 bright
ness such as I had never seen before ; whilst the air
sparkled with myriads of winged things, which flew
here and there, as if to show how happy they were.
All through the garden, too, I saw every sort 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 beautiful sights, my eyes
followed, more than all, the two glorious forms which
THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES. 2Q
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 speaking 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 forms moving up and down, flying
upon silver 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 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
30 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES.
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 themselves 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 speaking
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, 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
It grew darker and darker ; the thunder pealed all around ;
cries came forth from every hill.
THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES. 33
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 together 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 what was this strange noise ; and he
told me 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 darkness 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
34 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES.
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.
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 sing
ing, 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
I 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
THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES. 35
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.
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 once more flying through
the air, until again he set me on my feet, and bid me
look down. Now here, too, strange noises reached
36 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES.
my ears ; but as I listened to them, I found that 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 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 sob
bing 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 gave up, after trying to climb into
THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES. 37
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 reckoning, 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 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 pit-
38 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES.
falls, and wanted light 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 stand
ing in white robes, and speaking 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 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 VISION OF THE THREE STATES. 39
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-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
10
40 THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES.
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 care
lessly 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, 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 marvellous 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 to
gether into Church-truth.
Then I longed greatly to follow forth some of these
whom I had seen under the porch ; and as I gazed,
the man spoke to me and said, Meditate on what
thou hast seen, and more shall be shown thee here
after/
Father. Who were those who were walking in the
beautiful garden as its lords ?
THE VISION OF THE THREE STATES. 41
Child. The man and woman in Paradise before the
fall.
F. What was the dreadful change that came upon
them?
C. Their fall into sin and misery.
F. What was the second estate seen in the vision ?
C. Their fallen children in this sinful world, without
the knowledge of God ; wandering in the darkness of
heathenism amongst the pitfalls of error.
F. What was the porch which let them into a
better way ?
C. The entrance into the Church ot the redeemed
by baptism.
F. What does our catechism say about this ?
C. That it is our being called to a state of sal
vation.
F. What are the gifts bestowed upon them ?
C. God s Word is the book of light; conscience
enlightened by God is the little lamp of each; the
oil in the golden vial is the help and teaching of God s
grace ; and the staff is the help and assistance of the
Church.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND
IRRGEIST.
I WAS meditating on the vision I had once seen
of man in his three estates, when I fell asleep ; and as
I slept, the voice of him whom I had seen before
seemed to sound in my ears, and he said : If thou
wouldst know how the pilgrims walk, open thine eyes
and see. Then I turned round to gaze, and I saw
the man stoop down over a fair boy, and he called
him * Gottlieb, * and entered his name in the book,
and put the banded staff in his hand, and washed him
with living water, and hung the vial at his side, and
put the book of light into his hands; and, bidding
him God-speed, set him out upon his journey.
Then he looked steadily into the face of another
and it, too, was fair to look upon ; but it had not the
quiet happy peace of the last. The man wrote it
down as Irrgeist ; f and I thought a shade of sad
ness swept over his brow as he gave to him the King s
goodly gifts.
So these two set out upon their journey ; and I fol-
* Lover of God t Wanderer.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST. 43
lowed them with my eyes 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 a loving hand was stretched out of the dark
ness 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 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 were a cup of what
seemed to be crystal water, and a basket of what
looked like cool and refreshing fruit. A beautiful
light played all round her, and half showed 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
44 THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST.
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 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 spark
ling cup, too, and the fruit, turned into bitter ashes ;
* Prov. ii. 19.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST. 45
and the pleasant shady grass became 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. 3 *
Then I saw that he was feeding his lamp, 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 ns 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 honey
suckle hung down over its porch ; light, as from a
living diamond, gleamed from its roof; and in the
* Ps. cxix. 9.
46 THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST.
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 stayed to see it ;
the book of fire, too, spoke to him of rest, and of halt
ing by palm-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 himself
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 his comrade who had set out
with him from the porch, for he had not got as far as
Gottlieb.
When I first looked again upon Irrgeist, 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 no sure light to walk in.
Very near to the place where Gottlieb had met with
THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST. 47
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
showed 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 mis
lead 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 showed 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 thoughtlessly 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.
And now I saw him drink some of the enchanted
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
48 THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST,
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 pleasant countenance
had changed into a sharp, stern, and reproachful
frown. His own voice, which had been heretofore
almost like one singing, 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
THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST. 49
they sang ; and, in very bitterness 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 horrid
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 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 suddenly
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
50 THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST.
into the face of Irrgeist, so that he was singed and
almost blinded. 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 scarcelj; 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 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 little 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 trimmed his lamp, and it yielded forth
a little trembling light, just enough to show 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
THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST. 5 1
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 I had never left
the path ! Oh, that I had my book of light, and
my lamp s former brightness, 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/ f return ; mercy, and forgive
ness. And as he listened, something 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.
So the poor boy was sadly torn and scattered in
his thoughts by these two different voices ; but, me-
thought, 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 mur-
52 THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST,
muring of the cushat dove in the early summer, and
he would 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 round him, and
now and then fell in showers over him. Neither did
he hear now the pleasant sound of the voice of kind
ness ; 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 and 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 Gottlieb.
He was just coming forth again from the arbour,
where he had been suffered to rest awhile, and was
setting out afresh on his journey. A pleasant thing it
was, after the sad sight I had been looking on, to see
him marching along that road, his good staff in his
THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST. 53
hand, his lamp burning brightly, and his book sending
forth streams of light to show him the way that he
should go.
But soon I saw him get into a part of the road
which was rough and full of stones ; and unless he
kept the light he bore with him ever turned towards
the road, and looked, too, most carefully to his footing,
he was in constant danger of falling. The air, also,
seemed to have some power here of sending one 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 : and then methought, as he walked on, his
eyes would close as he bent them down over his book,
like one falling asleep from exceeding weariness.
Once, just when his eyes were closed, there seemed to
flash light out of his book and awake him, and he read
clearly these words, * 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 nearly
closed. So, walking carelessly, he placed his foot in a
hole, which he would have easily passed by if he had
been watching ; and, falling suddenly down, he rolled
almost out of the road, which was raised here with a
steep bank on either side. And surely he would have
rolled down that bank, but that, from a veiled form
54 THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST.
beside him, a hand, which seemed to have been once
torn by some great nail, was stretched out and stayed
his fall. Then he staggered again on his legs. 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 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
determined. 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 right on his
way.
Then I saw that the road changed again, and be
came smoother than he had ever known it. Gottlieb s
staff, too, was now smooth and easy in his hand, as it
THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST. 55
had been at first. Soon also a pleasant wind sprung
up, and blew softly and yet cool upon his forehead.
And now he heard the song of birds, as if the summer
was very near, though he saw them not yet. There
were, too, every now and then, sounds sweeter than
the songs of birds, as if blessed angels were near him,
and he were let to hear their heavenly voices. A
little further, and the day began to dawn upon him
bright light shone out but a little way before him,
and its glad reflection was already cast upon his path.
But still there was one more trial before him ; for
when he had enjoyed this light for a season, and I
thought he must be close upon the sunshine, I saw
that he had got into greater darkness than ever.
Here, also, a great loneliness seemed to fall on him ;
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."
Gottlieb did not pass through this heavy time 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 while
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 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,
ii
56 THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST.
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
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 stepped joyfully out of the darkness into the clear
sunlight. And messengers in robes of light were
* Isaiah xlii. 16.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST. 57
waiting for him ; 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, whilst I was rejoicing in Gottlieb s happiness,
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 up, his feet 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,
58 THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST.
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 that stranger, that it was the same
form which had saved Gottlieb when he fell. 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.
But I marked well that Irrgeist trod it not as Gott
lieb 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 there
fore 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
THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST. 59
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 breakout again into his song and thanksgiving.
As he drew towards the end, things somewhat mended
with him ; and when he was just upon the sunlight,
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 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 like unto
thee, that pardonest iniquity? And so saying, he
entered on the heavenly light, and left for ever behind
him the darkness and 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.
Father. Why was it so easy to get out of the path,
and so hard to get back ?
Child. Because it is easy to go wrong, and very
hard to return into the way of righteousness.
F. What were the baits which the phantom offered
to the youths ?
C. The pleasures of sin, which are but for a season.
F. Why was the staff rough to those that were
coming back from wandering ?
C. Because the discipline of the Church, which is easy
to the obedient, is often galling to those who offend.
60 THE PILGRIMAGE OF GOTTLIEB AND IRRGEIST.
F. Why was Irrgeist, after he was brought back,
still so sad a pilgrim ?
C. Because, though he was accepted and forgiven,
the effects of his former sins still weakened and
grieved him ; as says the Lord, by the mouth of the
Prophet Ezekiel (chap. xvi. ver. 63), That thou
mayest remember, and be confounded, and never open
thy mouth any more because of thy shame, when I
am pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done,
saith the Lord God.
THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND
GEHULFE.
As I was musing on the power of God to help the
strong and to recall the wanderers, as I had seen it
shown in the Pilgrimage of Gottlieb and Irrgeist,
methought I fell once again asleep, and saw the
porch through which they had passed, and the goodly
servant of the King still at his work of help. I saw
him start two other children on their course. He
gave them gifts like those he had given from the hut.
But I could see at once that these were quite dif
ferent boys from those I had noted before. Neither
ot them had the look of Gottlieb s strength, neither
of them had the wild look I had noted in Irrgeist.
The man wrote down their names as Furchtsam* and
Gehulfe.f
Furchtsam s timid glance seemed hardly firm
enough for so hard a journey ; but he set out on his
way. Close to him went the other, with a firm step,
and an eye of steady gentleness ; and I saw, by the
* Timid. t Help.
62 THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND GEHULFE.
King s book, that it was he who bore the name of
Gehulfe.
Poor little Furchtsam had from the first a tremb
ling, 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 stum
bled, 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 Gehulfe 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 ; sunshine, 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
sunshine, as if its warm light would have driven off
some of his fears ; but it was but for a moment. And
as for Gehulfe, whether it was that he was reading
his book of light too closely, or trimming too care-
THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND GEHULFE. 63
fully 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 dili
gently in his book, and trimming ever and anon his
lamp, such a light fell upon the narrow path, and the
darkness so veiled the precipice, 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 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
showed that a fearful precipice was on each side.
Furchtsam trembled exceedingly when he looked
at it ; and even Gehulfe, when, instead of marching
on, he stopped to talk about it, began to be troubled
with fears. Now, as they looked here and there,
64 THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND GEHULFE.
Furchtsam saw an easy safe-looking path, which pro
mised 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, Gehulfe 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 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 Gehulfe reminded him that they
had a true promise from the King, that nothing
should harm them whilst they kept to the highway
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
THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND GEHULFE. 65
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 Gehulfe. 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 ; while it had never seemed,
he thought, so dark as it did now ; he could not see
the bushes to which he had clung just before, or the
half path which had brought him down. Gehulfe s
voice from above was some guide to him, and showed
him in which direction to turn ; but when he tried to
mount the bank, it was so steep and so slippery, he
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, encouraging voice of
Gehulfe, 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 ear
nestly, 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 Gehulfe, he stopped and
asked him what made him tarry thus upon the King s
path. Then Gehulfe 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
66 THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND GEHULFE.
said, ( art thou named Gehulfe, 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 hindered 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 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 Gehulfe 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, where Gottlieb before him had found rest. He
THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND GEHULFE. 6?
did not tarry in the arbour nearly so long as Gottlieb
had done. It seemed as if he was refreshed with but
a little slumber ; for he was soon again upon his way.
The part of the road, too, which had been so rough
when I had seen Gottlieb and Irrgeist pass it, was far
smoother to Gehulfe ; and even that dangerous ground
on which the strong Gottlieb had grown drowsy, and
in his carelessness met with such a fall, had no perils
for Gelhulfe. He passed over it singing a sweet song
of the mercy of the Lord, the great stay of the weary,
and the blessedness of bearing others burdens, and
the strain of the song seemed to keep his eyelids from
ever drooping
Even when he came to the solitary part of the road,
and the shadow of death closed in upon him, his path
seemed more favoured than that of either of the others
whom I had seen pass it before him. He 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 reading 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
the messengers in robes of light, and they clad him in
the garments of the blessed and carried him with
songs and music into the presence of the King.
Now when I had seen this beautiful sight, I longed
to know how it fared with the poor trembling Furcht-
68 THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND GEHULFE.
sam without his helper, and to see whether 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 of a very timorous heart, and he scarcely
dared to look up to him who stood by him. After a
while I heard the man speak to him, and he asked
him in a grave, pitying 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 which 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
THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND GEHULFE. 69
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
without a moment s delay. And I heard him reading
in his book of light as he climbed up the steep path
which had affrighted him ; and what he read was this :
Before I was afflicted I went astray ; but now I have
kept Thy word. f
When he had almost reached the arbour, another
danger awaited him ; for in the dim light round him
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 wholesome rough
ness of his staff still pricked his hand and forced him
to remember his former fall. Instead, therefore, 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
* Isa. xxxv. 3, 4. t Psa. cxix. 67.
70 THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND GEHULFE.
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 a while, and then pursued his journey. Now I
noticed, that as he got further on the road, 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 Gehulfe, 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 great 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 altogether upon Him who had so merci
fully helped him on the bank, and who had held up
his fainting 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 dark-
* Isa. xxxv 9.
THE TRIALS OF FURCHTSAM AND GEHULFE. 7 1
ness 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 shining 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. And 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.
Father. Why did Gehulfe hardly see the vision of
the sorceress ?
Child. Because those who are busy helping others
often escape temptations themselves.
F. Why was the way smoother to him than to the
others ?
C. Because they who help others shall be helped
themselves.
F. Why was he wakeful in the time of drowsiness ?
C. Because doing kind things keeps the heart
awake.
F. How came the trembling, weak Furchtsam to
persevere to the end ?
C. Because He who died for us gathers the lambs
in his arms and carries them in His bosom.
12
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 playfellows 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 and cry
by her miserable bed all day, for they were very
THE LITTLE WANDERERS. 73
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 rushed weeping out of the house,
knowing that she was really dead, and that they were
left alone in the wide world.
Just at that very moment a man passed by, who
looked into the pale, thin, hungry face of the sob
bing child, with a kind, gentle look, and let him
self 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 ser
vants 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
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
74
THE LITTLE WANDERERS.
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
There were all sorts of flowers, and beautiful trees full Of
singing birds, and green grass, and painted butterflies.
they ran about in the grounds that were round it,
where were all sorts of flowers, and beautiful trees
THE LITTLE WANDERERS. 75
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.
Many ways, too, had these enemies by which they
enticed children to come on the plain ; for as long
as they stayed within the boundary, and played
only in the happy garden, the evil one 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 into his hands the
flower for which he had gone, 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.
76 THE LITTLE WANDERERS.
he went on to take the second ; and then, throw
ing 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 little 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 Zartf would
never leave him ; and sometimes, I am afraid, they
would 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 Glaubef 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 delicious, 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
* Bold, or Rash. f Tender. J Faith.
THE LITTLE WANDERERS. 77
in Kiihn, they had spoken to him over and over again.
What made it so dangerous was this that the
flowers of the wilderness never looked gay until you
got near to its border; afar off 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.
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 forbidden
border, when the hoop which he was trundling slipped
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
78 THE LITTLE WANDERERS.
Kiihn and Zart were in this great danger, a beautiful
bird started up under their feet. The boys bad
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 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 for
gotten : 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, until suddenly 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 LITTLE WANDERERS. 79
the enemies of the Lord of the castle. In another
minute they were torn asunder, they were snatched
up on horseback, and were galloping off towards the
sad abode in which the evil men of the desert dwelt.
In vain the boys cried, and begged to be taken
home ; away galloped the horses ; whilst no one
thought of heeding their cries and prayers. 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 together 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 another moment he had
slipped down its side, and fallen 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 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
80 THE LITTLE WANDERERS.
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 the
Lord of the castle turned towards him. He was look
ing on t!iG 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
No one noticed his fall ; and there he lay upon the sand for a while,
stunned and insensible.
THE LITTLE WANDERERS. 83
thought that he heard in the distance the trampling
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 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 grown 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.
84 THE LITTLE WANDERERS.
Father. Who are meant by these children born in
the wretched hovel ?
Child. All the children of fallen parents.
F. Who are such ?
C. All who are born. For we were * by nature born
in sin, and the children of wrath.
F. Who is the kind Lord of the castle who takes
pity on them ?
C. Jesus Christ our Lord.
F. What is meant by His taking them to His castle ?
C. His receiving us when children into His Church.
F. When was this done ?
C. At our baptism. For * being by nature children
of wrath, we were hereby made the children of grace.
F. What is meant by the clean raiment and the
new name He gave them ?
C. The forgiveness of all our sin (see Collect in
Confirmation Service), and the giving us our Christian
name.
F. Why is it called your Christian name ?
C. To mark its difference from our natural, or
parents name.
F. Why was it given you at that time ?
C. Because then I was taken into God s family, and
made a member of Christ, a child of God, and an
inheritor of the kingdom of heaven.
F. What was the food with which they were fed ?
C. All the means of grace of the Church of Christ.
F. What was the desert, and who those who dwelt
in it who were enemies to the Lord ?
THE LITTLE WANDERERS. 8$
C. The ways of sin, and the devil and his angels.
F. What were the bright flowers and the bird ?
C. The baits and temptations of sin.
F. Why did Kuhn, or bold/ cross the border more
easily the second time ?
C. Because one sin makes another easier.
F. Why did Zart, or tender/ follow him ?
C. Because bold sinners lead weaker sinners after
them.
F. What were the dry sands into which Kuhn and
Zart were carried ?
C. The evil ways of sin.
F. Who came to Zart s rescue when he prayed ?
C. The gracious Lord who had at first received
him into His Church by baptism.
F. Why was he still sad and ashamed after he was
brought back ?
C. Because he had wandered.
F. Did he then doubt whether he was forgiven ?
C. No ; but he remembered and was confounded,
and never opened his mouth any more, when the
Lord was pacified toward him for all his iniquity.
F. What was the end of Kuhn, or the bold ?
C. We know not ; but they who draw back unto
perdition are punished above all others.
F. What are we to learn from the whole ?
C. The blessedness of being taken into the Church
in our infancy ; and our need of prayer and watching,
lest we turn it into a curse.
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
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
should fail in their trial. For they loved that King
greatly ; he had been as a father to them all. Once
they had been slaves, and cruelly treated by a wicked
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. 8?
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 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
88 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
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 some
thing 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, so that each one of them might bring some
thing back to him. He gave them also very close
and particular instructions. He told them that 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 of his
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. 89
mere mercy he, who had redeemed them from the
dungeon and made them able to serve him, would
graciously reward hereafter all their efforts to use his
gifts for 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 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.
13
QO THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
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 everything 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 morning,
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 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
THE KING AND TITS SERVANTS. QI
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. Thus they traded ac
cording 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
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 wringing 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
92 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
for slaves in a far land, that they might pay them
selves the debt which her husband 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 would just pay the widow s debt and set her
children free. Then he went with her to the mer
chants, 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, and the other curious gifts, which
they had bought.
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 oassed its noon, and the
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. 93
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 merchants had shut
up all their richest stores ; and the markets were full
of others who brought false pearls and mock dia
monds, 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 glad
dened their eyes ; and sometimes 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 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.
94 THE KING AND HIS 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 a while 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 louger 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.
They slept, therefore, 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, because they were
secretly angry with themselves. 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.
At length, 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 con-
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. 95
fusion ; every one following his own path, and wan
dering 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 not manage to carry on any 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 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 trum
pets, 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
96 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
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 unlike 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 remembered
the words, * As good stewards of the 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 show
man 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 cor
ner 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
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. 97
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.
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 hardly 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
98 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
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 ? Then
some of his companions in idleness laughed and
jeered greatly, 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 the streets were empty,
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. 99
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.
4 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 waves 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 townspeople,
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 by their names, and bid 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
100 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
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 for a while on 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 them ; and this
the rabble would fain have 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
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. IOI
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, c 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 he that was fearful,
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
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 ?
Just as he said this, and 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
102 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
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 affrighted 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. And, 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 ; 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 keep
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
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. 103
noticed how he cast his eyes upon the goods that
were in the window, and was ready in a moment to
invite him 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. And 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
knew well how to seem honest and true, was al
together 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 ;
104 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
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 trust
ing companion to the market.
A hard struggle had been his before he had reached
it. It seemed indeed at times as if the words of his
fearful companion were coming true, and he would
be torn altogether in pieces, so fiercely did the crowd
press upon him and throng him. But 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 glancing by some black rock; and on he
passed, as though they saw him not.
So it continued, even till it 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
: All that was in it was coarse sackcloth, and rough and hairy garments, and heaps
of ashes, and bottles wherein tears were stored.
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. 107
oft 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, 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 sorrow
ful 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 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
108 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
amongst them. All else was gone, and they and
their works were alone with him.
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 offering 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. Now he came bringing it with
him ; 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 changed into pearls and rubies
which were above all price.
Then the King turned to the careless servants, and
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. IOQ
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 delivered them.
Father. In what part of God s Word do we read
such a parable as this ?
Child. In the 25th chapter of St. Matthew s Gospel,
and at the I5th verse.
F. Who is the King who called His servants thus
together ?
C. Almighty God.
F. Who are meant by these servants trading in the
town ?
C. All of us Christians.
F. How do you know that they were Christians ?
C. Because they had been delivered from slavery
and dungeons by the King s own Son.
F. What is the great town to which they were
sent ?
C. This world.
F. What are the goods which God gave them to
lay out for Him ?
C. Everything which we have in this life; our
strength, and health, and reason, and money, and
time.
IIO THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
F. How may we trade with these for the King ?
C. By trying to use them all so as to please Him
and set forth His glory.
F. Who are those who rose up early to go into the
town ?
C. Those who begin to serve the Lord even from
their youth.
F. What is shown by their finding the streets easy
to pass, and the markets full of rich goods ?
C. That this service of God is far easier to such as
begin to serve Him in youth ; and that such are able
to offer to Him the best gifts of early devotion, and
their first love, and the zeal of youth, and tender
hearts, and unclouded consciences.
F. What is taught us by their seeing the beauti
ful things of the city at their ease, after their diligent
trading ?
C. That those who serve God truly in a youthful
piety commonly find, more than others, that * godli
ness has promise of the life which now is, as well as of
that which is to come/
F. Why were those who were late ready to quarrel
with one another ?
C. Because companions in sin have no real love for
each other, but are always ready to fall out, being all
selfish and separate irom God.
F. What were the full streets they met with when
they entered the town ?
C. The many difficulties and hindrances which beset
those who set about serving God late in life.
THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS. Ill
F. What were the shows, and the thieves, and the
robbers, which troubled them ?
C. The different temptations which come from the
devil, the world, and the flesh.
F. Who were the crowds who withstood them ?
C. Those who love the present world, and who
therefore withstand those who seek to live for God s
glory.
F. Who was he who sold the false jewels?
C. One of those who often make a prey of persons
beginning, after a negligent youth, to feel earnest
about religion, and of whom we read (Rom. xvi. 17,
1 8), Now I beseech you, brethren, mark them which
cause divisions and offences contrary to the doctrine
which ye have learned ; and avoid them. For they
that are such serve not our Lord Jesus Christ, but
their own belly ; and by good words and fair speeches
deceive the hearts of the simple/
F. Who was he who held on through all difficulties
to the market-place ?
C. A truly humble penitent, who, having turned to
God with all his heart, leans not to his own under
standing, but follows God s leading in all things ;
cleaving close to Christ s Church.
F. What were the sackcloth and ashes which he
bought ?
C. The true contrition of heart and deep sense of
sin, which God gives to those who seek earnestly to
turn away from all iniquity.
F. What was the sound of the trumpet ?
112 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS.
C. The call of men to the general judgment.
F. Who were those whose trading the master was
pleased to reward ?
C. Those who had served God early ; those who
had given to Him the best of their youth ; those who
had been kind to others and helped the needy for his
sake ; those who had turned to Him in truth, and
clave to Him with a humble penitence.
F. What was the end of the careless servants ?
C. It is an awful end, which our blessed Saviour
Jesus Christ speaks of thus, Cast ye the unprofitable
servant into outer darkness : there shall be weeping
and gnashing of teeth. * And, again, These shall
go away into everlasting punishment ; but the right
eous into life eternal/f
* Matt. xxv. 30. i Ib. xxv. 46
THE PROPHET S GUARD.
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 the people were hastening 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 dancing fountain,
the cool waters of which bubbled up in the midst of
a broad square witiiin that city.
THE PROPHET S GUARD.
And now, what is it which one suddenly sees, and,
after gazing at it for a while, points out to another,
and he to a third ? As each hears, they look eagerly
The flat roofs of the houses began to be peopled on one was
a man praying, on others two or three standing together.
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 J
THE PROPHET S GUARD. 115
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, like some great mist rising in stillness from
the waters, and they seem to be hemming in the town
on every side. Look which way you will, the sun
lights upon the burnished points of spears, or falls on
strong shields, or flashes like lightning from polished
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 in shutting the eyes any longer
to the truth. The morning breeze has just floated off
in its airy waves that flag which before hung down
lifelessly by the side of its staff. It has shown 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 like the
dust from the face of the earth, they will be scarcely
u6 THE PROPHET S GUARD.
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 Jerusalem, or Jezreel, or even
against the newly rebuilt Jericho ? Why should they
come against this little town ?
Then one, an evil-looking man oi a dark counte
nance, 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 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 never thought
that 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 some
THE PROPHET S GUARD. 117
thing 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,
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 cham
ber, 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
ii8 THE PROPHET S GUARD.
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 ; 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, like 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. 1
And he stood gazing in the Prophet s face, as though
THE PROPHET S GUARD. 119
he expected to see paleness and terror 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 weak
ness, for that holy man was full of pity for the weak ;
so he chid him not ; but, bowing his knees again on
that flat roof, he prayed unto his God to open the
eyes of his affrighted servant. His prayer was heard.
i2o THE PROPHET S GUARD.
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 hea
venly 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 the gazer s 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.
THE BROTHERS MEETING;
OR, THE SINS OF YOUTH.
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 these travellers. First
went three troops of kine, lowing as they went ; camels
with their arched necks, stooping shoulders, and for
ward 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,
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
122 THE BROTHERS MEETING; OR,
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 who 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 could see over the hills before him, as if he ex
pected 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 ;
THE SINS OF YOUTH. 123
and yet it seemed, at the first glance, as if he was
very old. But as you looked closer, you saw that it
was not so ; but that many, many thoughts 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 ; nor 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
which leave their impress behind them, even when
they have passed away.
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 mes
sages 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 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 out
wardly the stamp of great mysteries.
But what was it which now rilled 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.
15
124 THE BROTHERS MEETING; OR,
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 meet
ing : brothers born of the same father and of the same
mother, who 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, now that they have been twenty years
asunder, and God has blessed them both, and they are
about to see each other again in peace and safety, and
to show to 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 de
liver 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
THE SINS OF YOUTH. 125
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 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 coun
tenance. It was as when he strained his eyes into the
great sand -drifts of the desert through which he had
126 THE BROTHERS MEETING; OR,
passed ; they danced and whirled fearfully before him,
and baffled all the strivings of his earnest gaze.
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 camels, 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.
Father. What should we learn from this account of
Jacob s meeting Esau ?
Child. That God remembers and often visits long
afterwards the sins of our childhood.
F. Does not God, then, forgive the sins of children ?
C. Yes He does forgive them, and blot them out
for Christ s sake.
THE SINS OF YOUTH. 12J
F. Why, then, do we say that He visits them ?
C. Because He often allows the effects of past
sins to be still their punishment, even when He has
forgiven them.
F. Why does He do so ?
C. To show us how He hates sin
F. What should we learn from this ?
C. To watch against every sin most carefully, be
cause we never can know what may be its effects ; to
remember how God has punished it, often for years
in his true servants ; to pray against sin ; to think no
sin little.
F. What should we do, if we find the consequences
of past sin coming upon us ?
C. Take that chastisement meekly ; humble our
selves under God s hand ; pray for deliverance, as,
Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my trans
gressions : according to thy mercy remember thou
me for thy goodness sake, O Lord (Psa. xxv. 7).
F. What should be the effect on us when God hears
our prayer, and delivers us ?
C. It should make us more humbly remember our
sins and unworthiness, and strive to show forth our
thankfulness, not with our lips only, but in our
lives.
THE END.
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