{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_10380/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_10380","id":"gutenberg_10380","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10380","summary":null,"tags":["Bible stories, English -- Juvenile literature","Category: Biographies","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Children's Religion","Christian literature for children"],"text":"BIBLE STORIES AND RELIGIOUS CLASSICS\n\nWITH AN INTRODUCTION BY ANSON PHELPS STOKES, JR.\n\n\n_ILLUSTRATED BY_ BEATRICE STEVENS\n\n\n\n1903\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nThere never was a time when the demand for books for young people was so\ngreat as it is to-day or when so much was being done to meet the demand.\n\"Children's Counter,\" \"Boys' Books,\" are signs which, especially at the\nChristmas season, attract the eye in every large book shop. Tales of\nadventure, manuals about various branches of nature study, historical\nromances, lives of heroes--in fact, almost every kind of book--is to be\nfound in abundance, beautifully illustrated, attractively bound, well\nprinted, all designed and written especially for the youth of our land.\nIt is indeed an encouraging sign. It means that the child of to-day is\nbeing introduced to the world's best in literature and science and\nhistory and art in simple and gradual ways.\n\nIn the Middle Ages stories of the martyrs and legends of the Church,\nalong with some simple form of catechetical instruction, formed the\nbasis of a child's mental and religious training. Later, during and\nafter the Crusades, the stories of war and the mysteries of the East\nincreased the stock in trade for the homes of Europe; but still the\nhorizon remained a narrow one. Even the invention of printing did not\nbring to the young as many direct advantages as would naturally be\nexpected. To-day, when Christian missionaries set up a printing press in\nsome distant island of the sea, the first books which they print in the\nvernacular are almost invariably those parts of the Bible, such as the\nGospels and the stories of Genesis, which most appeal to the young, and,\nwhat is of special importance, they have the young directly and mainly\nin mind in their publishing work. This was not true a few centuries ago.\nThe presses were, perhaps naturally and inevitably, almost exclusively\noccupied with books for the learned world. To be sure, the Legenda\nAurea, of which I shall speak later, although not intended primarily for\nchildren, proved a great boon to them. So did the Chap Books of England.\nBut it was not until the middle of the eighteenth century, when John\nNewbery set up his book shop at St. Paul's Churchyard, London, that any\nspecial attention was given by printers to the publication, in\nattractive form, of juvenile books. Newbery's children's books made him\nfamous in his day, but the world seems to have forgotten him. Yet he\ndeserves a monument along with \u00c6sop, and La Fontaine, and Kate\nGreenaway, and Andersen, and Scott and Henty, and all the other greater\nand lesser lights who have done so much to gladden the heart and enlarge\nthe mind of childhood and youth.\n\nBut from Newbery's day to this year of our Lord nineteen hundred and\nthree is a very long jump in what we may call the evolution of juvenile\nliterature, for the preparation of reading matter for young people seems\nnow almost to have reached its climax. There is one field, however, and\nthat the one which this volume tries to cover, which strangely enough\nseems to have been almost neglected. Of \"goody-goody\" Sunday School\nlibrary books of an old-fashioned type, which are insipid and lacking\nboth in virility of thought and literary form, there are, alas, already\ntoo many. What we need is something to take their place, something which\nwill furnish real literature, and yet which from subject matter and\nmanner of handling is specially adapted to what I still like to call\nSunday reading, a phrase which unfortunately seems to mean little to\nmost people to-day. Bearing this in mind, it is the purpose of this book\nto gather together, in attractive form, such religious classics as are\nspecially fitted to interest and uplift young people.\n\nThere is a wide variety in so far as _subject matter_, _source_ and\n_form_ are concerned, but a certain unity is given to the contents of\nthe volume by the religious note, which, whether brought prominently\nforward or not, is found alike in all the selections.\n\nThe Bible has furnished directly or indirectly most of the _subject\nmatter_ here used. The biographies of various Scripture characters\nappear in large numbers. Adam and Noah head the list, and Peter and\nPaul bring up the end of a procession of worthies whose heroic deeds as\nthe servants of Jehovah will always appeal to the imagination of\nyouthful minds. But it is not with Bible characters only that this book\ndeals. The lives of Christian saints who entered upon their inheritance,\nsuch as Christopher and Sylvester and Francis of Assisi, also have their\nplace, while yet more prominent are stories and poems based on some\nBible incidents. Even selections such as Hawthorne's Great Stone Face or\nWordsworth's Ode to Duty have their roots deep in the Bible, for they\ncan be understood and explained only by those who know the Revelation it\ncontains. In so far, then, as the subject matter of the volume is\nconcerned, either it or its inspiration can always be traced back to the\nBible.\n\nWhen we turn from the Bible material which, as we have seen, supplies\nboth subject and inspiration, to the _source_ from which the selections\nin their literary form as here given are derived, we find that the old\nfoundations have sufficed for many kinds of structure. Probably the\nsource from which the editor has drawn most largely is the Golden\nLegend. This work, which was translated into English and printed by\nCaxton in 1483, although little heard of now, was for several centuries\na household word in Christendom. It was the creation of a Genoese\nArchbishop, Jacobus de Voragine, and dates from about the middle of the\nthirteenth century. The good Archbishop, using the Bible and the Lives\nof the Saints as a basis, and as a sharer of the superstitions of the\ntime having unbounded faith in every legend of the Church, put together\nin simple form for the edification of his flock the various stories\nabout Jewish and Christian worthies which compose the original Legenda\nAurea. This was translated into French by one Jean de Vignay in the\nfourteenth century, and the English version was in turn mainly made from\nthis translation. In the simple, sturdy language of Caxton the book\nbecame a most popular one, being often read aloud in the Parish Churches\nof England, where it helped to familiarize the people, especially the\nyoung, with sacred story as represented by the heroes of the Old\nTestament and the saints of the Church. In Caxton's introduction there\nis a quaint sentence regarding the name of the book. After mentioning\nthe Latin title, he adds \"that is to say in Englyshe the golden legende\nfor lyke as passeth golde in vallwe al other metallys, soo thys legende\nexedeth all other bokes.\" Whether the good printer's judgment be\njustified or no, it is not for us to say. It is true, however, that\nafter the passing of over six centuries since its original production,\nthe editor of this volume in looking for religious classics for young\npeople has made more use of it than of any other collection. All honor,\nthen, to the old Archbishop of Genoa and to William Caxton, who made\nhis work accessible to the youth of England.\n\nThe only other work which deserves any special mention as a source for\nthe contents of this volume, is the Stories and Tales of Hans Christian\nAndersen. If ever there was any one who deserved the title of the\nChildren's Friend, surely this son of a poor Danish shoemaker is the\nman. His Tales have been translated into many languages, and because of\ntheir true imagination and their simplicity of expression they have\nappealed to all children. Ten or more of them appear in this volume.\nThey are charming and wholesome reading, and their continued popularity\nmakes us realize the truth of these closing lines in Andersen's The Old\nGrave Stones: \"The good and the beautiful perish never; they live\neternally in tale and song.\"\n\nThe other sources from which this collection has been made up are so\nvaried as to require no mention aside from that given with each title.\nThe Master Poets of English Literature have been freely drawn upon:\nByron to tell of the Destruction of Sennacherib, Milton to sing of\nChrist's Nativity, Wordsworth to meditate aloud on Duty, and other great\nwriters to emphasize various deep truths of life.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAs we turn from subject matter and source to _form_, we again find great\nvariety. Almost every kind of literature is represented. The early\nlengends of the Jewish people, told by the author of the Legenda Aurea\nalmost in the words of Scripture, bring to young and old alike the same\nlessons about God and Duty. The fact that they are legends, rather than\nexact history, does not in any way lessen their religious value. Then,\ntoo, the book contains allegories, such as that of the Pilgrim's\nProgress, Christendom's greatest religious classic next to the Bible\nitself, and those of some of Andersen's Tales. Poetry also is well\nrepresented, the selections being in large part suggested by Scripture.\nThere are in addition many stories in the ordinary sense of the\nword--tales which are entirely the fabric of the imagination, but which,\nlike the selections from Hawthorne, have some great lesson to teach. In\nfact, the literary forms represented in this volume are almost as\nnumerous as those of the Bible itself. The latter used to be looked upon\nmerely as a storehouse of historic facts and devotional songs; now we\nsee in it Legend, Oratory, Poetry, Allegory, History, Proverb and\nProphecy; and we find that all of these forms are used by God's servants\nto teach His truth to men.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSufficient has been said, I think, to show the purpose and scope of this\nvolume and to introduce the reader to its contents. It is my hope and\nbelief that the effort of my friend, Mr. Philip P. Wells, to make this a\ncollection of religious classics in the full meaning of these words may\nprove successful. My highest wish, however, is that those who read\nthese selections, with their great variety of source and form, may mark\nthe inspiration of thought or incident common to them all, and may find\nan interest in refreshing what may be an old acquaintance with that Book\nof Books which gives with classic truth the fundamental subject matter\nfor all deep thought and high aspiration.\n\nANSON PHELPS STOKES, JR.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nTHE LIFE OF ADAM\n\nHERE BEGINNETH THE HISTORY OF NOAH\n\nTHE RAINBOW\n\nHERE FOLLOWETH THE LIFE OF ABRAHAM\n\nHERE BEGINNETH THE LIFE OF ISAAC, WITH THE HISTORY OF ESAU AND OF JACOB\n\nHERE BEGINNETH THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN\n\nHERE NEXT FOLLOWETH THE HISTORY OF MOSES\n\nTHE BURIAL OF MOSES\n\nTHE HISTORY OF JOSHUA\n\nTHE HISTORY OF SAUL\n\nTHE HISTORY OF DAVID\n\nTHE SONG OF DAVID\n\nTHE STORY OF A CUP OF WATER\n\nTHE HISTORY OF SOLOMON\n\nTHE HISTORY OF REHOBOAM\n\nA LITTLE MAID\n\nHERE FOLLOWETH THE HISTORY OF JOB\n\nTHE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB\n\nHERE FOLLOWETH THE HISTORY OF TOBIT\n\nHERE BEGINNETH THE STORY OF JUDITH\n\nTHE VISION OF BELSHAZZAR\n\nA CHRISTMAS CAROL\n\nON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY\n\nTHE BURNING BABE\n\nA CRADLE SONG\n\nEASTER\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. PETER THE APOSTLE\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. CHRISTOPHER\n\nTHE SEVEN SLEEPERS\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. SILVESTER\n\nOF ST. AUSTIN THAT BROUGHT CHRISTENDOM TO ENGLAND\n\nEDWIN AND PAULINUS\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. GEORGE, MARTYR\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. PATRICK\n\nOF ST. FRANCIS\n\nSONG OF THE EMIGRANTS IN BERMUDA\n\nLANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS IN NEW ENGLAND\n\nTHE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS\n\nTHE PILGRIM\n\nTHE GREAT STONE FACE\n\nTHE GENTLE BOY\n\nTHE ANGEL\n\nTHE RED SHOES\n\nTHE LOVELIEST ROSE IN THE WORLD\n\nA VISION OF THE LAST DAY\n\nTHE OLD GRAVESTONE\n\nGOOD-FOR-NOTHING\n\nIN THE UTTERMOST PARTS OF THE SEA\n\nSOMETHING\n\nTHE JEWISH GIRL\n\nTHE STORY OF A MOTHER\n\nTHE LITTLE MATCH GIRL\n\nFLOWERS WITHOUT FRUIT\n\nCONTENTMENT\n\nTHE SEARCH FOR PEACE\n\nA SONG OF PRAISE\n\nTHE TRAVELLER\n\nTRUE GREATNESS\n\nCHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE\n\nA THANKSGIVING TO GOD FOR HIS HOUSE\n\nFRIENDS DEPARTED\n\nTHE LAND OF DREAMS\n\nADORATION\n\n\n\n\nBIBLE STORIES AND RELIGIOUS CLASSICS\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF ADAM\n\n_The Sunday of Septuagesima beginneth the story of the Bible, in which\nis read the legend and story of Adam which followeth_\n\n\nIn the beginning God made and created heaven and earth. The earth was\nidle and void and covered with darkness. And the spirit of God was borne\non the waters, and God said: Be made light, and anon light was made. And\nGod saw that light was good, and divided the light from darkness, and\ncalled the light day and darkness night.\n\nAnd thus was made light with heaven and earth first, and even and\nmorning was made one day. The second day he made the firmament, and\ndivided the waters that were under the firmament from them that were\nabove, and called the firmament heaven. The third day were made on the\nearth herbs and fruits in their kind. The fourth day God made the sun\nand moon and stars, etc. The fifth day he made the fishes in the water\nand birds in the air. The sixth day God made the beasts on the earth,\nevery one in his kind and gender. And God saw that all these works were\ngood and said: Make we man unto our similitude and image. Here spake the\nFather to the Son and Holy Ghost, or else as it were the common voice of\nthree persons, when it was said make we, and to our, in plural number.\nMan was made to the image of God in his soul. Here it is to be noted\nthat he made not only the soul with the body, but he made both body and\nsoul. As to the body he made male and female. God gave to man the\nlordship and power upon living beasts. Thus in six days was heaven and\nearth made and all the ornation of them. And then he made the seventh\nday on which he rested, not for that he was weary, but ceased his\noperation, and showed the seventh day which he blessed. Thus he shortly\nshowed the generations of heaven and earth, for here he determined the\nworks of the six days and the seventh day he sanctified and made holy.\nGod had planted in the beginning Paradise a place of desire and delices.\nAnd man was made in the field of Damascus; he was made of the slime of\nthe earth. Paradise was made the third day of creation, and was beset\nwith herbs, plants and trees, and is a place of most mirth and joy. In\nthe midst whereof be set two trees, that is the tree of life, and that\nother the tree of knowing good and evil. And there is a well, which\ncasteth out water for to water the trees and herbs of Paradise. This\nwell is the mother of all waters, which well is divided into four parts.\nOne part is called Phison. This goeth about Inde. The second is called\nGijon, otherwise Nilus, and that runneth about Ethiopia, the other two\nbe called Tigris and Euphrates. Tigris runneth toward Assyria, and\nEuphrates is called fruitful, which runneth in Chaldea. These four\nfloods come and spring out of the same well, and depart, and yet in some\nplace some of them meet again.\n\nThen God took man from the place of his creation and brought him into\nParadise, for to work there, not to labor needily, but in delighting and\nrecreating him, and that he should keep Paradise. For like as Paradise\nshould refresh him, so should he labor to serve God, and there God gave\nhim a commandment. Every commandment standeth in two things, in doing or\nforbidding, in doing he commanded him to eat of all the trees of\nParadise, in forbidding he commanded that he should not eat of the tree\nof the knowledge of good and evil. This commandment was given to the\nman, and by the man it went to the woman. For when the woman was made it\nwas commanded to them both, and hereto he set a pain, saying: Whatsoever\nday thou eatest thereof thou shalt die by death.\n\nGod said: It is not good a man to be alone, make we to him an helper\nlike to himself for to bring forth children. Adam supposed that some\nhelper to him had been among the beasts which had been like to him.\nTherefore God brought to Adam all living beasts of the earth and air, in\nwhich he understood them of the water also, which with one commandment\nall came tofore him. They were brought for two causes, one was because\nman should give to each of them a name, by which they should know that\nhe should dominate over them, and the second cause was because Adam\nshould know that there was none of them like to him. And he named them\nin the Hebrew tongue, which was only the language and none other at the\nbeginning. And so none being found like unto him, God sent in Adam a\nlust to sleep, which was no dream, but as is supposed in an extasy or in\na trance; in which was showed to him the celestial court. Wherefore when\nhe awoke he prophesied of the conjunction of Christ to his church, and\nof the flood that was to come, and of the doom and destruction of the\nworld by fire he knew, which afterward he told to his children.\n\nWhiles that Adam slept, God took one of his ribs, both flesh and bone,\nand made that a woman, and set her tofore Adam. Which then said: This is\nnow a bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; and Adam gave her a name\nlike as her lord, and said she should be called virago, which is as much\nas to say as made of a man, and is a name taken of a man. And anon, the\nname giving, he prophesied, saying: Because she is taken of the side of\na man, therefore a man shall forsake and leave father and mother and\nabide and be adherent unto his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh;\nand though they be two persons, yet in matrimony and wedlock they be but\none flesh, and in other things twain. For why, neither of them had power\nof his own flesh. They were both naked and were not ashamed, for they\nstood both in the state of innocence. Then the serpent which was hotter\nthan any beast of the earth and naturally deceivable, for he was full\nof the devil Lucifer, which was deject and cast out of heaven, had great\nenvy to man that was bodily in Paradise, and knew well, if he might make\nhim to trespass and break God's commandments, that he should be cast out\nalso.\n\nYet he was afeard to be taken or espied of the man, he went to the\nwoman, not so prudent and more prone to slide and bow. And in the form\nof the serpent, for then the serpent was erect as a man. Bede saith that\nhe chose a serpent having a maiden's cheer [face], for like oft apply to\nlike, and spake by the tongue of the serpent to Eve, and said: Why\ncommanded you God that ye should not eat of all the trees of Paradise?\nThis he said to find occasion to say that he was come for. Then the\nwoman answered and said: Ne forte moriamur, lest haply we die, which she\nsaid doubting, for lightly she was flexible to every part. Whereunto\nanon he answered: Nay in no wise ye shall die, but God would not that ye\nshould be like him in science, and knowing that when ye eat of this tree\nye shall be as gods knowing good and evil, he as envious forbade you.\nAnd anon the woman, elate in pride and willing to be like to God,\naccorded thereto and believed him. The woman saw that the tree was fair\nto look on, and clean and sweet of savor, took and ate thereof, and gave\nunto Adam of the same, happily desiring him by fair words. But Adam anon\nagreed, for when he saw the woman not dead he supposed that God had said\nthat they should die to fear them with, and then ate of the fruit\nforbidden. And anon their sight was opened that they saw their\nnakedness, and then anon they understood that they had trespassed. And\nthus they knew that they were naked, and they took fig leaves and sewed\nthem together for to cover their members in manner of breeches.\n\nAnd anon after, they heard the voice of our Lord God walking, and anon\nthey hied him. Our Lord called the man and said: Adam, where art thou?\nCalling him in blaming him and not as knowing where he was, but as who\nsaid: Adam, see in what misery thou art. Which answered: I have hid me,\nLord, for I am naked. Our Lord said: Who told thee that thou wert naked,\nbut that thou hast eaten of the tree forbidden? He then not meekly\nconfessing his trespass, but laid the fault on his wife, and on him as\ngiver of the woman to him, and said: The woman that thou gavest to me as\na fellow, gave to me of the tree, and I ate thereof. And then our Lord\nsaid to the woman: Why didst thou so? Neither she accused herself, but\nlaid the sin on the serpent, and privily she laid the fault on the maker\nof him. The serpent was not demanded, for he did it not of himself, but\nthe devil by him.\n\nAnd our Lord, cursing them, began at the serpent, keeping an order and\ncongruous number of curses. The serpent was the first and sinned most,\nfor he sinned in three things. The woman next and sinned less than he,\nbut more than the man, for she sinned in two things. The man sinned last\nand least, for he sinned but in one. The serpent had envy, he lied, and\ndeceived, for these three he had three curses. Because he had envy at\nthe excellence of man, it was said to him: Thou shalt go and creep on\nthy breast; because he lied he is punished in his mouth, when it was\nsaid: Thou shalt eat earth all the days of thy life. Also he took away\nhis voice and put venom in his mouth. And because he deceived, it was\nsaid: I shall put enmity between thee and woman, and thy seed and her\nseed. She shall break thy head, etc. In two things the woman sinned, in\npride and eating the fruit. Because she sinned in pride, he meeked her,\nsaying: Thou shalt be under the power of man, and he shall have lordship\nover thee, and he shall put thee to affliction. Now is she subject to a\nman by condition and dread, which before was but subject by love; and\nbecause she sinned in the fruit, she is punished in her fruit, when it\nwas said to her: Thou shalt bring forth children in sorrow; in the pain\nof sorrow standeth the curse, but in bringing forth of children is a\nblessing. And so, in punishing, God forgat not to have mercy. And\nbecause Adam sinned but only in eating of the fruit, therefore he was\npunished in seeking his meat, as it is said to him: Accursed be the\nearth in thy work, that is to say for thy work of thy sin, for which is\nmade that the earth that brought forth good and wholesome fruits\nplenteously, from henceforth shall bring forth but seldom, and also none\nwithout man's labor, and also sometime weeds, briars, and thorns shall\ngrow. And he added: Thereto shalt thou eat herbs of the earth, as who\nsaith thou shalt be like a beast or jument. He cursed the earth because\nthe trespass was of the fruit of the earth and not of the water. He\nadded thereto to him of labor: In the sweat of thy cheer [face] thou\nshalt eat thy bread unto the time thou return again into the earth; that\nis to say till thou die, for thou art earth, and into earth thou shalt\ngo again.\n\nThen Adam, wailing and sorrowing the misery that was to come of his\nposterity, named his wife Eve, which is to say, mother of all living\nfolk. Then God made to Adam and Eve two leathern coats of the skins of\ndead beasts, to the end that they bare with them the sign of mortality,\nand said: Lo, Adam is made as one of us, knowing good and evil, now lest\nhe put his hand and take of the tree of life and live ever, as who\nsaith: beware and cast him out, lest he take and eat of the tree of\nlife. And so he was cast out of Paradise, and set in the field of\nDamascus where as he was made and taken from, for to work and labor\nthere. And our Lord set Cherubim to keep Paradise of delight with a\nburning sword and pliant, to the end that none should enter there ne\ncome to the tree of life.\n\nAfter then that Adam was cast out of Paradise and set in the world, he\nengendered Cain, the fifteenth year after he was made, and his sister\nCalmana; but after another fifteen years was Abel born, and his sister\nDelbora.\n\nWhen Adam was an hundred and thirty years of age, Cain slew Abel his\nbrother. Truth it is, after many days Cain and Abel offered sacrifice\nand gifts unto God. It is to be believed that Adam taught his sons to\noffer to God their tithes and first fruits. Cain offered fruits, for he\nwas a ploughman and tiller of earth, and Abel offered milk and the first\nof the lambs, Moses saith, of the fattest of the flock. And God beheld\nthe gifts of Abel, for he and his sacrifices were acceptable to our\nLord; and as to Cain his sacrifices, God beheld them not, for they were\nnot to him acceptable, he offered withies and thorns. And as some\ndoctors say, fire came from heaven and lighted the sacrifice of Abel,\nand the gifts of Cain pleased not our Lord, for the sacrifice would not\nbelight nor burn clear in the light of God. Whereof Cain had great envy\nunto his brother Abel, which arose against him and slew him. And our\nLord said to him: Where is Abel thy brother? He answered and said: I wot\nnever, am I keeper of my brother? Then our Lord said: What hast thou\ndone? The voice of the blood of thy brother crieth to thee from the\nearth, wherefore thou art cursed, and accursed be the earth that\nreceived the blood of thy brother by his mouth of thy hands. When thou\nshalt work and labor the earth it shall bring forth no fruit, but thou\nshalt be fugitive, vagabond, and void on the earth. This Cain deserved\nwell to be cursed, knowing the pain of the first trespass of Adam, yet\nhe added thereto murder and slaughter of his brother.\n\nThen Cain, dreading that beasts should devour him, or if he went forth\nhe should be slain of the men, or if he dwelt with them, they would slay\nhim for his sin, damned himself, and in despair said: My wickedness is\nmore than I can deserve to have forgiveness, whoso find me shall slay\nme. This he said of dread, or else wishing, as who said, would God he\nwould slay me. Then our Lord said: Nay not so, thou shalt die, but not\nsoon, for whosoever slayeth Cain shall be punished seven sithes more,\nfor he should deliver him from dread, from labor and misery, and added\nthat he should be punished personally sevenfold more. This punition\nshall endure to him in pain unto the seventh, Lameth, whosomever shall\nslay Cain shall loose seven vengeances. Some hold that his pain endured\nunto the seventh generation, for he committed seven sins. He departed\nnot truly, he had envy to his brother, he wrought guilefully, he slew\nhis brother falsely, he denied it, he despaired and damned, he did no\npenance. And after he went into the east, fugitive and vagabond. Cain\nknew his wife which bare Enoch, and he made a city and named it Enoch\nafter the name of his son Enoch. Here it showeth well that this time\nwere many men, though their generation be not said, whom Cain called to\nhis city, by whose help he made it, whom he induced to theft and\nrobbery.\n\nHe was the first that walled or made cities; dreading them that he\nhurted, for surety he brought his people into the towns. Then Enoch gat\nIrad, and Irad Mehujael, and he gat Methusael, and he gat Lameth, which\nwas the seventh from Adam and worst, for he brought in first bigamy.\nThis Lameth took two wives, Adah and Zilla; of Adah he gat Jabal which\nfound first the craft to make folds for shepherds and to change their\npasture, and ordained flocks of sheep, and departed the sheep from the\ngoats after the quality, the lambs by themselves, and the older by\nthemselves, and understood the feeding of them after the season of the\nyear. The name of his brother was Jubal, father of singers in the harp\nand organs, not of the instruments, for they were found long after, but\nhe was the finder of music, that is to say of consonants of accord, such\nas shepherds use in their delights and sports. And forasmuch as he heard\nAdam prophesy of two judgments by the fire and water, that all things\nshould be destroyed thereby, and that his craft new found should not\nperish, he did do write it in two pillars or columns, one of marble,\nanother of clay of the earth, to the end that one should endure against\nthe water, and that other against the fire. Josephus saith that the\npillar of marble is yet in the land of Syria. Of Zilla he begat\nTubal-cain, which found first the craft of smithery and working of iron,\nand made things for war, and sculptures and gravings in metal to the\npleasure of the eyes, which he so working, Tubal, tofore said, had\ndelight in the sound of his hammers, of which he made the consonants and\ntunes of accord in his song. Noema, sister of Tubal-cain, found first\nthe craft of diverse texture.\n\nLameth was a shooter, and used to shoot at wild beasts, for none use of\nthe meat of them, but only for to have the skins for their clothing, and\nlived so long that he was blind and had a child to lead him. And on a\ntime by adventure he slew Cain. For Cain was always afeard and hid him\namong bushes and briars, and the child that led Lameth had supposed it\nhad been some wild beast and directed Lameth to shoot thereat, and so,\nweening to shoot at a beast, slew Cain. And when he knew that he had\nslain Cain, he with his bow slew the child, and thus he slew them both\nto his damnation; therefore as the sin of Cain was punished seven\nsithes, so was the sin of Lameth seventy sithes and seven. That is to\nsay, seventy-seven souls that came of Lameth were perished in the deluge\nand Noah's flood; also his wife did him much sorrow, and evil-entreated\nhim. And he being wroth said that he suffered that for his double\nhomicide and manslaughter, yet nevertheless he feared him by pain,\nsaying: Why will ye slay me? he shall be more and sorer punished that\nslayeth me, than he that slew Cain.\n\nJosephus said that when Abel was slain and Cain fled away, Adam when he\nwas one hundred and thirty years old engendered Seth like to his\nsimilitude, and he to the image of God. This Seth was a good man, and he\ngat Enos, and Enos Cainan, and Cainan begot Malaleel, and Malaleel\nJared, and Jared Enoch, and Enoch Methuselah, and Methuselah Lamech, and\nLamech Noah. And like as in the generation of Cain the seventh was the\nworst, so in the generation of Seth the seventh was the best, that was\nEnoch whom God took and brought him into Paradise, unto the time that he\nshall come with Elias for to convert the hearts of the fathers into the\nsons. And Adam lived after he had begotten Seth eight hundred years, and\nengendered sons and daughters. Some hold opinion thirty sons and thirty\ndaughters, and some fifty of that one and fifty of that other. We find\nno certainty of them in the Bible. But all the days of Adam living here\nin earth amount to the sum of nine hundred and thirty years. And in the\nend of his life when he should die, it is said, but of none authority,\nthat he sent Seth his son into Paradise for to fetch the oil of mercy,\nwhere he received certain grains of the fruit of the tree of mercy by an\nangel. And when he came again he found his father Adam yet alive and\ntold him what he had done. And then Adam laughed first and then died.\nAnd then he laid the grains or kernels under his father's tongue and\nburied him in the vale of Hebron; and out of his mouth grew three trees\nof the three grains, of which trees the cross that our Lord suffered his\npassion on was made, by virtue of which he gat very mercy, and was\nbrought out of darkness into very light of Heaven. To the which he bring\nus that liveth and reigneth God, world without end.\n\n\n\n\nHERE BEGINNETH THE HISTORY OF NOAH\n\n_The First Sunday in Sexagesima_\n\n\nAfter that Adam was dead, died Eve and was buried by him. At the\nbeginning, in the first age, the people lived long. Adam lived nine\nhundred and thirty years, and Methuselah lived nine hundred and\nsixty-nine years. S. Jerome saith that he died the same year that the\nflood was. Then Noah was the tenth from Adam in the generation of Seth,\nin whom the first age was ended. The seventy interpreters say that this\nfirst age dured two thousand two hundred and forty-four years. S. Jerome\nsaith not fully two thousand, and Methodius full two thousand, etc.\n\nNoah then was a man perfect and righteous and kept God's commandment.\nAnd when he was five hundred years old, he gat Shem, Ham, and Japhet.\nThis time men began to multiply on the earth, and the children of God,\nthat is to say of Seth, as religious, saw the daughters of men, that is\nto say of Cain, and took them to their wives. This time was so much sin\non the earth, wherefore God was displeased and determined in his\nprescience to destroy man that he had made, and said: I shall put man\naway that I have made, and my spirit shall not abide in man for ever,\nfor he is flesh. As who said, I shall not punish man perpetually as I\ndo the devil, for man is frail, and yet ere I shall destroy him I shall\ngive him space and time of repentance and to amend him, if he will. The\ntime of repentance shall be one hundred and twenty years. Then Noah,\nrighteous and perfect, walked with God, that is in his laws, and the\nearth was corrupt by sin and filled.\n\nWhen God saw the earth to be corrupt, and that every man was corrupt by\nsin upon the earth, he said to Noah: The end of all people is come\ntofore me except them that shall be saved, and the earth is replenished\nwith their wickedness. I shall destroy them with the earth, id est [that\nis], with the fertility of the earth. Make to thee an ark of tree, hewn,\npolished, and squared. And make there divers places, and lime it with\nclay and pitch within and without, that is to wit with glue which is so\nfervent, that the timber may not be loosed. And thou shalt make it three\nhundred cubits of length, fifty in breadth, and thirty of height. And\nmake therein divers distinctions of places and chambers and of\nwardrobes. And the ark had a door for to enter in and come out, and a\nwindow was made thereon, which that the Hebrews say was of crystal. This\nark was on making, from the beginning that God commanded first to make\nit, one hundred and twenty years. In which time Noah oft desired the\npeople to leave their sin, and how he had spoken with God, and that he\nwas commanded to make the ship, for God should destroy them for their\nsin, but if they left it. And they mocked him and said that he raved\nand was a fool, and gave no faith to his saying and continued in their\nsin and wickedness. Then, when the ark was perfectly made, God bade him\nto take into it of all the beasts of the earth, and also of the fowls of\nthe air, of each two, male and female, that they may live. And also of\nall the meats of the earth that be comestible, that they may serve and\nfeed thee and them. And Noah did all that our Lord commanded him. Then\nsaid our Lord to Noah: Enter thou and all thy household into the ark,\nthat is to say thou and thy wife and thy three sons and their three\nwives. I have seen that thou art rightful in this generation. Of all\nbeasts that be clean thou shalt take seven, and of unclean beasts but\nonly two. And of the birds seven and seven, male and female, that they\nmay be saved on the face of the earth. Yet after seven days I shall rain\nupon the earth forty days and forty nights, and shall destroy all the\nsubstance that I made on the earth. And Noah did all things that our\nLord commanded him.\n\nHe was six hundred years old when the flood began on the earth. And then\nNoah entered in and his sons, his wife, and the wives of his sons, all\ninto the ark to eschew the waters of the flood. Of all the beasts and\nthe fowls, and of all that moved and had life on earth, male and female,\nNoah took in to him as our Lord had bidden. And seven days after they\nwere entered, the water began to increase. The wells of the abysms were\nbroken, and the cataracts of heaven were opened, that is to say the\nclouds, and it rained on the earth forty days and forty nights. And the\nark was elevate and borne upon the waters on height above the mountains\nand hills, for the water was grown higher fifteen cubits above all the\nmountains, that it should purge and wash the filth of the air. Then was\nconsumed all that was on the earth living, man, woman, and beast and\nbirds. And all that ever bare life, so that nothing abode upon the\nearth, for the water was fifteen cubits above the highest mountain of\nthe earth. And when Noah was entered he shut the door fast without\nforth, and limed it with glue.\n\nAnd so the waters abode elevate in height an hundred and fifty days from\nthe day that Noah entered in. And our Lord then remembered Noah and all\nthem that were in the ark with him, and also on the beasts and fowls,\nand ceased the waters. And the wells and cataracts were closed, and the\nrains were prohibited, and forbidden to rain no more. The seventh month,\nthe twenty-seventh day of the month, the ark rested on the hills of\nArmenia. The tenth month, of the first day of the month, the tops of the\nhills appeared first. After these forty days after the lessing of the\nwaters, Noah opened the window and desired sore to have tidings of\nceasing of the flood. And sent out a raven for to have tidings, and when\nhe was gone he returned no more again, for peradventure she found some\ndead carrion of a beast swimming on the water, and lighted thereon to\nfeed her and was left there. After this he sent out a dove which flew\nout, and when she could find no place to rest ne set her foot on, she\nreturned unto Noah and he took her in. Yet then were not the tops of\nthe hills bare. And seven days after he sent her out again, which at\neven returned, bearing a branch of an olive tree, burgeoning, in her\nmouth. And after other seven days he sent her again, which came no more\nagain.\n\nThen in the year of Noah six hundred and one, the first day of the\nmonth, Noah opened the covering of the ark and saw that the earth was\ndry, but he durst not go out, but abode the commandment of our Lord. The\nsecond month, the twenty-seventh day of the month, our Lord said to\nNoah: Go out of the ark, thou and thy wife, thy sons and the wives of\nthy sons. He commanded them to go conjointly out which disjointly\nentered, and let go out with them all the beasts and fowls living, and\nall the reptiles, every each after his kind and gender, to whom our Lord\nsaid: Grow ye and multiply upon the earth. Then Noah issued out and his\nwife, and his sons with their wives, and all the beasts, the same day a\nyear after they entered in, every one after his gender. Noah then\nedified an altar to our Lord and took of all the beasts that were clean\nand offered sacrifice unto our Lord; and our Lord smelled the sweetness\nof the sacrifice and said to Noah: From henceforth I shall not curse the\nearth for man, for he is prone and ready to fall from the beginning of\nhis youth. I shall no more destroy man by such vengeance. And then our\nLord blessed them and said: Grow ye and multiply the earth and be ye\nlords of all the beasts of the earth, of the fowls of the air, and of\nthe fishes. I have given all things to you, but eat no flesh with the\nblood. I command you to slay no man, nor to shed no man's blood. I have\nmade man after mine image. Whosomever sheddeth his brother's blood, his\nblood shall be shed. Go ye forth and grow and multiply and fill the\nearth. This said our Lord to Noah and his sons: Lo! I have made a\ncovenant with you and with them that shall come after you, that I shall\nno more bring such a flood to slay all people, and in token thereof I\nhave set my rainbow in the clouds of heaven, for who that trespasseth I\nshall do justice otherwise on him. Noah lived after the flood three\nhundred and fifty years. From the time of Adam until after Noah's flood,\nthe time and season was alway green and tempered; and all that time men\nate no flesh, for the herbs and fruits were then of great strength and\neffect, they were pure and nourishing. But after the flood the earth was\nweaker and brought not forth so good fruit, wherefore flesh was ordained\nto be eaten. And then Noah began to labor for his livelihood with his\nsons, and began to till the earth, to destroy briars and thorns and to\nplant vines. And so on a time Noah had drunk so much of the wine that he\nwas drunk, and lay and slept. Ham, his middlest son, laughed and scorned\nhis father, and called his brethren to see, which rebuked Ham of his\nfolly and sin. And Noah awoke, and when he understood how Ham his son\nhad scorned him, he cursed him and also his son Canaan, and blessed Shem\nand Japhet. All the days of Noah were nine hundred and fifty years and\nthen he died. And after his death his sons dealed all the world between\nthem, Shem had all Asia, Ham Africa, and Japhet all Europe. Thus was it\ndeparted. Asia is the best part and is as much as the other two, and\nthat is in the east. Africa is the south part, and therein is Carthage\nand many rich countries, therein be blue and black men. Ham had that to\nhis part Africa. The third part is Europe which is in the north and\nwest, therein is Greece, Rome, and Germany. In Europe reigneth now most\nthe christian law and faith, wherein is many a rich realm. And so was\nthe world departed to the three sons of Noah.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RAINBOW\n\n\nTriumphal arch, that fill'st the sky\n  When storms prepare to part,\nI ask not proud Philosophy\n  To teach me what thou art.\n\nStill seem, as to my childhood's sight,\n  A midway station given,\nFor happy spirits to alight,\n  Betwixt the earth and heaven.\n\nCan all that optics teach, unfold\n  Thy form to please me so,\nAs when I dreamt of gems and gold\n  Hid in thy radiant bow?\n\nWhen science from creation's face\n  Enchantment's veil withdraws,\nWhat lovely visions yield their place\n  To cold material laws!\n\nAnd yet, fair bow, no fabling dreams,\n  But words of the Most High,\nHave told why first thy robe of beams\n  Was woven in the sky.\n\nWhen o'er the green undeluged earth\n  Heaven's covenant thou didst shine,\nHow came the world's gray fathers forth\n  To watch thy sacred sign!\n\nAnd when its yellow lustre smiled\n  O'er mountains yet untrod,\nEach mother held aloft her child\n  To bless the bow of God.\n\nThe earth to thee her incense yields,\n  The lark thy welcome sings,\nWhen, glittering in the freshen'd fields,\n  The snowy mushroom springs.\n\nHow glorious is thy girdle, cast\n  O'er mountain, tower, and town,\nOr mirror'd in the ocean vast\n  A thousand fathoms down!\n\nAs fresh in yon horizon dark,\n  As young thy beauties seem,\nAs when the eagle from the ark\n  First sported in thy beam.\n\nFor, faithful to its sacred page,\n  Heaven still rebuilds thy span;\nNor lets the type grow pale with age\n  That first spoke peace to man.\n\nT. CAMPBELL.\n\n\n\n\nHERE FOLLOWETH THE LIFE OF ABRAHAM\n\n\nThe Sunday called Quinquagesima is read in the church the history of the\nholy patriarch Abraham which was the son of Terah. This Terah was the\ntenth from Noah in the generation of Shem. Japhet had seven sons and Ham\nfour sons. Out of the generation of Ham Nimrod came, which was a wicked\nman and cursed in his works, and began to make the tower of Babel which\nwas great and high. And at the making of this tower, God changed the\nlanguages, in such wise that no man understood other. For tofore the\nbuilding of that tower was but one manner speech in all the world, and\nthere were made seventy-two speeches. The tower was great, it was ten\nmiles about and five thousand and eighty-four steps of height. This\nNimrod was the first man that found mawmetry and idolatry, which endured\nlong and yet doth. Then I turn again to Terah which had three sons,\nwhich was Abram, Nahor, and Haran. Of Nahor came Us, Bus, and Batuel. Of\nUs came Job, of Bus came Balaam, and of Batuel Rebekah and Laban. Of\nHaran came Lot and two daughters, Melcha and Sara.\n\nNow I shall speak of Abram of whom our blessed lady came. He wedded\nSara, daughter of his brother Haran. Abram was ever faithful and true,\nhe was sixty-five years old when his father died, for whom he mourned\ntill our Lord comforted him, which said to Abram: Abram, make thee ready\nand go out of thy land and kindred, and also from the house of thy\nfather, and come into the land that I shall show to thee. I shall make\nthee grow into much people; I shall bless thee and magnify thy name, and\nthou shalt be blessed, and I shall bless them that bless thee, and curse\nthem that curse thee, and in thee shall be blessed all the kindreds of\nthe earth.\n\nAbram was seventy years old when he departed from the land of Haran, and\nhe took with him Sara his wife, and Lot the son of his brother, and\ntheir meiny [company], and his cattle and his substance, and came into\nthe land of Canaan, and came into the vale of Sichem, in which were ill\npeople which were the people of Canaan. And our Lord said to Abram: I\nshall give to thee this land and to thine heirs. Then Abram did raise an\naltar on which he did sacrifice, and blessed and thanked our Lord. Abram\nbeheld all the land toward the south, and saw the beauty thereof, and\nfound it like as our Lord told him. But he had not been long in the land\nbut that there fell great hunger therein, wherefore he left that country\nand went into Egypt and took with him Sara his wife. And as they went by\nthe way Abram said to his wife: I fear and dread sore that when we come\nto this people, which be lawless, that they shall take thee for thy\nbeauty and slay me, because they would use thee. Wherefore say thou art\nmy sister, and I thy brother, and she agreed thereto. And when they\nwere come in to that country the people saw that she was so fair, and\nanon they told the king, which anon commanded that she should be brought\ninto his presence. And when she was come, God of his good grace so\npurveyed for her, that no man had power to do her villany. Wherefore the\nking was feared that God would have taken vengeance on him for her, and\nsent for Abram and said to him that he should take his wife, and that he\nhad evil done to say, that she was his sister, and so delivered her\nagain, and gave him gold and silver, and bade that men should worship\nhim in all his land, and he should freely at his pleasure depart with\nall his goods. Then after this Abram took his wife Sara and went home\nagain, and came unto Bethel, and set there an altar of stone, and there\nhe adored and worshipped the name of God. His store and beasts began to\nmultiply, and Lot with his meiny was also there. And their beasts began\nso sore to increase and multiply, that unnethe [hardly] the country\nmight suffice to their pasture, in so much that rumor and grudging began\nto sourde and arise between the herdmen of Abram and the herdmen of Lot.\nThen Abram said to Lot: Lo! this country is great and wide, I pray thee\nto choose on which hand thou wilt go, and take it for thy meiny and thy\nbeasts. And let no strife be between me and thee, ne between my herdmen\nne thy herdmen. Lo! behold all the country is tofore thee, take which\nthou wilt; if thou go on the right side, I shall go on the left side,\nand if thou take the left, I will go on the right side. Then Lot beheld\nthe country and saw a fair plain toward flom Jordan, which was pleasant,\nand the flood ran toward Sodom and Gomorrah, which was like a paradise,\nand took that part for him. And Abram took toward the west, which was\nbeside the people of Canaan at the foot of mount Mamre. And Lot dwelled\nin Sodom. The people of Sodom were worst of all people.\n\nOur Lord said to Abram: Lift up thine eyes and see directly from the\nplace that thou art now in, from the north to the south, and from the\neast to the west. All this land that thou seest I shall give thee, and\nto thy seed for evermore. I shall make thy seed as powder or dust of the\nearth, who that may number the dust of the earth shall number thy seed.\nArise therefore and walk the land in length and in breadth, for I shall\ngive it to thee. Abram moved then his tabernacle and dwelled in the\nvalley of Mamre, which is in Hebron, and set there his tabernacle. It\nhappened soon after that there was a war in that land, that four kings\nwarred again other five kings, which were of Sodom, Gomorrah and other.\nAnd the four kings overthrew the five and slew them, and spoiled and\ntook all the substance of the country and took also with them Lot and\nall his goods. And a man gat away from them and came to Abram, and told\nhim how that Lot was taken and led away. And then anon Abram did do\ngather his people together, the number of three hundred and eighteen.\nAnd followed after, and departed his people in two parties because they\nshould not escape. And Abram smote in among them, and slew the kings,\nand rescued Lot and all his goods, and delivered the men of Sodom that\nwere taken and the women. And they of Sodom came against him, and\nMelchisedech came and met with him, and offered to him bread and wine.\nThis Melchisedech was king and priest of Jerusalem and all the country,\nand blessed Abram. And there Abram gave to him the tythes of all he had.\nAnd the king of Sodom would that Abram should have had such prey as he\ntook, but he would not have as much as the latchet of a shoe, and thus\ngat Abram much love of all the people.\n\nAfter this our Lord appeared to Abram in a vision and said: Abram, dread\nthee nothing, I am thy protector, and thy reward and meed shall be\ngreat. Abram answered: Lord God, what wilt thou give me? Thou wottest\nwell I have no children, and sith I have none I will well that Eleazar\nthe son of my bailiff be my heir. Nay, said our Lord, he shall not be\nthine heir, but he that shall issue and come of thy seed shall be thine\nheir. Our Lord led him out and bade him behold the heaven, and number\nthe stars if thou mayst, and said to him, so shall thy offspringing and\nseed be. And Abram believed it and gave faith to our Lord's words, and\nit was reputed to him to justice. And our Lord said to him, I am the\nLord that led thee out of the land of Ur of the Chaldees for to give to\nthee this land into thy possession. And Abram said: Lord, how shall I\nknow that I shall possess it? A voice said to Abram: Thy seed shall be\nexiled into Egypt by the space of four hundred years, and shall be\nthere in servitude, and after, I shall bring them hither again in the\nfourth generation. Thou shalt abide here unto thy good age, and shalt be\nburied here, and go with thy fathers in peace. Sara was yet without\nchild, and she had a handmaid named Hagar, an Egyptian, and she on a day\nsaid to Abram her husband: Thou seest I may bear no child, wherefore I\nwould thou took Hagar my maid, that thou might get a child which I might\nkeep and hold for mine. And ten year after that Abram had dwelled in\nthat land, he took Hagar, and anon she despised her mistress. Then Sara\nsaid to Abram: Thou dost evil. My servant now hath me in despite, God\njudge this between thee and me. To whom Abram answered: Thine handmaid\nis in thine hands, chastise her as it pleaseth thee. After this Sara\nchastised Hagar and put her to so great affliction that she went away;\nand as she went an angel met with her in the wilderness by a well, and\nsaid: Hagar, whence comest and whither goest thou? She answered: I flee\naway from the face of my lady Sara. To whom the angel said, return again\nand submit thee by humbleness unto thy lady, and I shall multiply thy\nseed, and so much people shall come of it that it cannot be numbered for\nmultitude. And he said furthermore: Thou shalt bear a child and shalt\ncall him Ishmael. He shall be a fierce man, he shall be against all men,\nand all men against him. Then Hagar returned home and served her lady,\nand soon after this she was delivered of Ishmael. Abram was eighty-six\nyears old when Ishmael was born.\n\nWhen Abram was ninety-nine years, our Lord appeared to him and said:\nAbram, lo! I am the Lord Almighty, walk thou before me and be perfect,\nand I shall keep covenant between me and thee and shall multiply thy\nseed greatly. And Abram fell down lowting low to the earth and thanked\nhim. Then our Lord said I AM, and my covenant I shall keep to thee, thou\nshalt be father of much people. Thou shalt no more be called Abram, but\nAbraham, for I have ordained thee father of much people. I shall make\nthee to increase most abundantly; kings and princes shall come of thee,\nand shall stablish my covenant between me and thee, and thy seed in thy\ngenerations. I shall give to thee and to thy seed after thee the land of\nthy pilgrimage, all the land of Canaan, into their possession and I\nshall be their God. Yet said God to Abraham: And thou shalt keep thy\ncovenant to me, and thine heirs after thee in their generations, and\nthis shall be the covenant that ye shall keep and thine heirs after\nthee. Every child masculine that shall be born shall be circumcised when\nhe is eight days old. And see that the men in your generation be\ncircumcised, begin at thyself and thy children. And all that dwell in\nthy kindred, who of you that shall not be circumcised shall be cast and\nput out for ever from my people, because he obeyeth not my statute and\nordinance. And thy wife Sara shall be called no more Sara but she shall\nbe called Sarah, and I shall bless her, and shall give to thee a son of\nher, whom I shall bless also. I shall him increase into nations, and\nkings of peoples shall come of him. Abraham fell down on his face\ntoward the earth and laughed in his heart, saying: May it be that a\nwoman of ninety years may bear a child? I beseech thee, Lord, that\nIshmael may live before thee. Our Lord said to Abraham, Sarah shall\nbring forth a son whom thou shalt name Isaac, and I shall keep my\ncovenant to him for evermore, and to his heirs after him. And I have\nheard thy request for Ishmael also. I shall bless him and increase, and\nshall multiply his seed into much people, twelve dukes shall come of\nhim. I shall keep my covenant to Isaac, whom Sarah shall bring forth the\nnext year.\n\nAfter this on a time, as Abraham sat beside his house in the vale of\nMamre in the heat of the day, and as he lift up his eyes, he saw three\nyoung men coming to him, and anon as he saw these three standing by him\nhe ran to them and worshipped one alone; he saw three and worshipped but\none. That betokeneth the Trinity, and prayed them to be harboured with\nhim, and took water and washed their feet: and prayed them to tarry\nunder the tree, and he would bring bread to them for to comfort them.\nAnd they bade him do as he had said, he went and bade Sarah to make\nthree ashy cakes and sent his child for a tender fat calf, which was\nsodden and boiled. And he served them with butter and milk, and the\ncalf, and set it tofore them. He stood by them, and when they had eaten\nthey demanded him: Where is Sarah thy wife? And he said: Yonder in the\ntabernacle. And he said, I shall go and come again, and Sarah thy wife\nshall have a child. And she stood behind the door and heard it and\nlaughed, and said softly to herself: How may it be that I should bear a\nchild? She thought it impossible. Then said our Lord to Abraham: Why\nlaugheth Sarah thy wife, saying in scorn, Shall I bear a child? but as I\nsaid to thee before, I shall return and come again, and she shall have a\nchild in that time. And he asked Sarah why she smiled in scorn, and she\nsaid she smiled ne laughed not, and our Lord said, It is not so, for\nthou laughedst.\n\nWhen they had rested Abraham conveyed them on the way. And our Lord said\nto Abraham: I have not hid from thee what I purpose to do. The cry of\nSodom and Gomorrah is multiplied and their sin is much grievous. I shall\ndescend and see if the sin be so great, the stench thereof cometh to\nheaven, I shall take vengeance and destroy them. Then Abraham said: I\nhope, Lord, thou wilt not destroy the just and righteous man with the\nwicked sinner. I beseech thee, Lord, to spare them. Our Lord said: If\nthere be fifty good and righteous men among them, I shall spare them.\nAnd Abraham said: Good Lord, if there be found forty, I pray thee to\nspare them. Our Lord said: If there be forty, I shall spare them, and so\nfrom forty to thirty and from thirty to twenty and from twenty to ten,\nand our Lord said: If there be found ten good men among them, I shall\nnot destroy them. And then our Lord went from Abraham, and he returned\nhome again. That same eventide came two angels into Sodom, and Lot sat\nat his gate, and when he saw them he went and worshipped them and\nprayed them to come and rest in his house, and abide there and wash\ntheir feet. And they said: Nay, we shall abide here in the street, and\nLot constrained them and brought them into his house and made a feast to\nthem. Then said the angels to Lot: If thou have here of thy kindred,\nsons or daughters, all them that long to thee, lead out of this city, we\nshall destroy this place, for the cry thereof is come to our Lord, which\nhath sent us for to destroy them. Lot went unto his kinsmen and said:\nArise and take your children, and go out of this city, for our Lord\nshall destroy it. And they supposed that he had raved or japed [jested].\nAnd as soon as it was day the angels said to Lot: Arise, and take thy\nwife and thy two daughters, and go out of this town lest ye perish with\nthem. Yet he dissimuling, they took him by the hand and his wife and two\ndaughters, because that God should spare them, and led them out of the\ncity. And there they said to him: Save thy soul and look not behind thee\nlest thou perish also, but save thee in the mountain. Lot said to them:\nI beseech thee, my Lord, forasmuch as thy servant hath found grace\nbefore thee, and that thou hast showed thy mercy to me, and that\nperadventure I might take harm on the hill, that I may go into the\nlittle city hereby and may be saved there. He said to Lot: I have heard\nthy prayers, and for thy sake I shall not subvert this town for which\nthou hast prayed, hie thee and save thyself there, for I may do nothing\ntill thou be therein. Therefore that town is called Zoar. So Lot went\nin to Zoar; and the sun arose, and our Lord rained from heaven upon\nSodom and Gomorrah sulphur and fire, and subverted the cities and all\nthe dwellers of the towns about that region, and all that was there\ngrowing and burgeoning. Lot's wife turned her and looked toward the\ncities, and anon she was turned into a statue or image of salt, which\nabideth so unto this day. Abraham arose in the morning early, and looked\ntoward the cities, and saw the smoke ascending from the places, like as\nit had been the light of a furnace. What time our Lord subverted these\ncities he remembered Abraham, and delivered Lot from the vengeance of\nthe cities in which he dwelled. Then Lot ascended from Zoar and dwelled\nin the mountain, and his two daughters with him. He dreaded to abide any\nlonger in the town, but dwelled in a cave, he and his two daughters with\nhim.\n\nAbraham departed from thence and went southward and dwelled between\nKadesh and Shur, and went a pilgrimage to Gerar. He said that his wife\nwas his sister. Abimelech the king of Gerar sent for her and took her.\nGod came to Abimelech in his sleep and said: Thou shalt be dead for the\nwoman that thou hast taken, she hath an husband. Abimelech said: Lord,\nwilt thou slay a man ignorant and rightful? She said that she was his\nsister, in the simpleness of my heart and cleanness of my hands I did\nthis. And God said to him: I know well that with a simple heart thou\ndidst it, and therefore I have kept thee from her, now yield the woman\nto her husband, and he shall pray for thee, he is a prophet and thou\nshalt live. And if thou deliver her not, thou shalt die, and all they\nthat be in thy house. Abimelech arose up the same night and called all\nhis servants, and told them all these words. All they dreaded sore. Also\nAbimelech called Abraham and said to him: What hast thou done to us,\nthat we have trespassed to thee? Thou hast caused me and my realm to sin\ngreatly. Thou hast done that thou shouldst not have done. What sawest\nthou for to do so? Abraham said: I thought that the dread of God was not\nin this place, and that ye would slay me for my wife; and certainly\notherwise she is also my sister, the daughter of my father but not of my\nmother, and I have wedded her. And after that I went from the house of\nmy father, I said to her: Wheresomever we go say thou art my sister.\n\nThen Abimelech took sheep and oxen and servants and maidens, and gave to\nAbraham, and delivered to him Sarah his wife, and said: Lo! the land is\nhere tofore thee, wheresoever thou wilt, dwell and abide. And he said to\nSarah: Lo! I have given to thy brother a thousand pieces of silver, this\nshall be to thee a veil of thine eyes, and wheresomever thou go,\nremember that thou wert taken. Abraham prayed for Abimelech and his\nmeiny [company] and God healed him, his wife and all his servants. Our\nLord then visited Sarah, and she brought forth a son in her old age,\nthat same time that God had promised. Abraham called his son that she\nhad borne, Isaac, and when he was eight days old he circumcised him as\nGod had commanded, and Abraham was then an hundred years old. Then said\nSarah: Who would have supposed that I should give suck to my child,\nbeing so old? I laughed when I heard our Lord say so, and all they that\nshall hear of it may well laugh. The child grew and was weaned, and\nAbraham made a great feast at the day of his weaning. After this, on a\nday when Sarah saw the son of Hagar her handmaid play with her son\nIsaac, she said to Abraham: Cast out this handmaid with her son, the son\nof the handmaid shall not be heir with my son Isaac. Abraham took this\nword hard and grievously for his son. Then said God to him: Let it not\nbe hard to thee for thy son and handmaid, whatsomever Sarah say to thee\nhear her voice, for in Isaac shall thy seed be called. Yet shall I make\nthe son of the handmaid grow into great people, for he is of thy seed.\nAbraham rose early in the morning, and took bread and a bottle of water,\nand laid it on her shoulder, and gave to her the child and let her go,\nwhich, when she was departed, erred in the wilderness of Beersheba. And\nwhen the water was consumed that was in the bottle, she left the child\nunder a tree that was there and went thence as far as a bow shot and sat\nher down, and said: I shall not see my son die, and there she wept. Our\nLord heard the voice of the child, and an angel called Hagar saying,\nWhat doest thou, Hagar? Be not afeard, our Lord hath heard the voice of\nthe child from the place which he is now in. Arise and take the child\nand hold him by the hand, for I shall make him to increase into much\npeople. God opened her eyes and she saw a pit of water, and anon she\nwent and filled the bottle, and gave the child to drink, and abode with\nhim, which grew and dwelled in the wilderness, and became there a young\nman and an archer, and dwelled also in the desert of Paran. And his\nmother took to him a wife of the land of Egypt.\n\nThat same time said Abimelech, and Phicol the prince of his host, unto\nAbraham: Our Lord is with thee in all things that thou doest. Swear thou\nby the Lord that thou grieve not me, ne them that shall come after me,\nne my kindred, but after the mercy that I have showed to thee, so do to\nme and to my land in which thou hast dwelled as a stranger. And Abraham\nsaid, I shall swear. And he blamed Abimelech for the pit of water which\nhis servants had taken away by strength. Abimelech answered: I know not\nwho hath done this thing, and thou toldest me not thereof, and I never\nheard thereof till this day. And then after this they made covenant\ntogether, and promised each to other to be friends together.\n\nAfter all these things God tempted Abraham, and said to him: Abraham,\nAbraham. He answered and said: I am here, and he said to him: Take thou\nthine only son that thou lovest, Isaac, and go into the land of Vision\nand offer him in sacrifice to me upon one of the hills that I shall show\nto thee. Then Abraham arose in the night, and made ready his ass, and\ntook with him two young men and Isaac his son. And when they had hewn\nand gathered the wood together to make sacrifice, they went to the\nplace that God commanded him. The third day after, he lift up his eyes\nand saw from afar the place, and he said to his children: Abide ye here\nwith the ass, I and my son shall go to yonder place, and when we have\nworshipped there we shall return to you. Then he took the wood of the\nsacrifice and laid it on his son Isaac, and he bare in his hands fire\nand the sword. And as they went both together, Isaac said to his father:\nFather mine. What wilt thou, my son? said Abraham, and he said: Lo! here\nis fire and wood, where is the sacrifice that shall be offered? Abraham\nanswered: My son, God shall provide for him a sacrifice well enough.\nThey went forth and came to the place that God had ordained, and there\nmade an altar, and laid the wood thereon, and took Isaac and set him on\nthe wood on the altar, and took his sword and would have offered him up\nto God. And lo! the angel of God cried to him from heaven saying:\nAbraham, Abraham, which answered: I am here, and he said to him: Extend\nnot thy hand upon my child, and do nothing to him, now I know that thou\ndreadest God, and hast not spared thine only son for me. Abraham looked\nbehind him, and saw among the briars a ram fast by the horns, which he\ntook, and offered him in sacrifice for his son. He called that place:\nThe Lord seeth. The angel called Abraham the second time saying: I have\nsworn by myself, saith the Lord, because thou hast done this thing, and\nhast not spared thine only son for me, I shall bless thee and shall\nmultiply thy seed as the stars of heaven, and like the gravel that is\non the seaside, thy seed shall possess the gates of their enemies, and\nin thy seed shall be blessed all the people of the earth, for thou\nobeyedst to me. Abraham then returned to his servants, and went into\nBeersheba and dwelled there. Sarah lived an hundred and twenty-seven\nyears and died in the city of Arba, which is Hebron in the land of\nCanaan; for whom Abraham made sorrow and wept, and bought of the\nchildren of Heth a field, and buried her worshipfully in a double\nspelunke.\n\nAbraham was an old man, and God blessed him in all his things. He said\nto the eldest and upperest servant in all his house: I charge and\nconjure thee by the name of God of heaven and of earth that thou suffer\nnot my son Isaac to take no wife of the daughters of Canaan amongst whom\nI dwell, but go into the country where my kindred is, and take of them a\nwife to my son. And the servant answered: If no woman there will come\nwith me into this country, shall I bring thy son into that country from\nwhence thou earnest? Abraham said: Beware that thou lead not my son\nthither. The Lord of heaven and of earth, that took me from the house of\nmy father and from the place of my nativity, hath said and sworn to me,\nsaying: To thy seed I shall give this land. He shall send his angel\ntofore thee, and thou shalt take there a wife for my son. If no woman\nwill come with thee thou shalt not be bounden by thine oath, but in no\nwise lead my son thither. His servant then swore and promised to him\nthat he would so do.\n\nHe took ten camels of the flock of his lord, and of all his goods bare\nwith him, and went in to Mesopotamia unto the town of Nahor. And he made\nthe camels to tarry without the town by a pit side at such time as the\nwomen be wont to come out for to draw water. And there he prayed our\nLord, saying: Lord God of my lord Abraham, I beseech thee to help me\nthis day, and do mercy unto my lord Abraham. Lo! I stand here nigh by\nthe well of water, and the daughters of the dwellers of this town come\nhither for to draw water, therefore the maid to whom I say: Set down thy\npot that I may drink, and then she set down her pot and say: I will give\nto thee drink, and to the camels, that I may understand thereby that she\nbe the maid that thou hast ordained to thy servant Isaac, and thou\nshowest thy mercy to my lord Abraham. He had not fully finished these\nwords with himself, but that Rebekah, daughter of Bethuel, son of Milcah\nwife of Nahor, brother of Abraham, came out of the town, having a pot on\nher shoulder, which was a right fair maid, and much beauteous and\nunknown to the man. She went down to the well and filled her pot with\nwater and returned. The servant of Abraham ran to her and said: I pray\nthee to give me a little of the water in thy pot for to drink. Which\nsaid: Drink, my lord, and lightly took the pot from her shoulder, and\nheld it, and gave him drink. And when he had drunk she said: Yet I shall\ngive to thy camels drink, and draw water for them till all have drunken;\nand she poured out the water into a vessel that was there for beasts to\ndrink, and ran to the pit and drew water that every one drank his\ndraught. He then thought in himself secretly that God had made him to\nhave a prosperous journey.\n\nAfter they had drunk, he gave her two rings to hang on her ears weighing\ntwo shekels, and as many armlets weighing ten shekels, and asked her\nwhose daughter she was, and if there were any room in her father's house\nto be lodged. And she answered: I am daughter to Bethuel, Nahor's son,\nand in my father's house is place enough to lodge thee and thy camels,\nand plenty of chaff and hay for them. And the man inclined down to the\nground and worshipped God saying: Blessed be the Lord God of my lord\nAbraham, which hath not taken away his mercy ne his truth from my lord,\nand hath brought me in my journey right into the house of my lord's\nbrother. The maid Rebekah ran and told at home all that she had heard.\nRebekah had a brother named Laban, which hastily went out to the man\nwhere as he was when he had seen the rings in his sister's ears and her\npoinettes or armlets on her hands; and had heard her say all that the\nman said. He came to the man that stood by the well yet, and said to\nhim: Come in, thou blessed of God, why standest thou without? I have\nmade ready the house for thee, and have ordained place for thy camels.\nAnd brought him in, and strawed his camels, and gave them chaff and hay,\nand water to wash the camels' feet, and the men's feet that came with\nhim.\n\nAnd they set forth bread tofore him, which said: I shall not eat till I\nhave done mine errand and said wherefore I am come. And it was answered\nto him, say on, and he said: I am servant of Abraham, and God hath\nblessed and magnified him greatly and hath given to him oxen and sheep,\nsilver and gold, servants men and women, camels and asses. And Sarah his\nwife hath brought him forth a son in her old age, and he hath given to\nhim all that he had. And my lord hath charged and adjured me saying: In\nno wise let my son Isaac have no wife of the daughters of Canaan in\nwhose land he dwelleth, but go unto the house of my father and of my\nkindred, and of them thou shall take a wife to my son, wherefore I am\ncome hither. And told all how he prayed God of some token, and how\nRebekah did to him, and in conclusion desired to have Rebekah for his\nlord Isaac; and if he would not, that he might depart and go into some\nother place, on the right side or on the left, to seek a wife for his\nlord's son. Then Bethuel and Laban said to him: This word is come of\nGod, against his will we may nothing do. Lo! Rebekah standeth tofore\nthee, take her and go forth that she may be wife unto the son of thy\nlord, as our Lord hath said. Which words when Abraham's servant had\nheard, he fell down to the ground and thanked our Lord, and anon took\nforth silver vessels and of gold and good clothes and gave them to\nRebekah for a gift. And to her brethren and mother he gave also gifts,\nand anon they made a feast, and ate and were joyful together. On the\nmorn betimes, the servant of Abraham arose, and desired to depart and\ntake Rebekah with him and go to his lord. Then the mother and her\nbrethren said: Let the maid abide with us but only ten days, and then\ntake her and go thy way. I pray you, said he, retain ne let [hinder] me\nnot, our Lord hath addressed my way and achieved my errand, wherefore\nlet me go to my lord. And they said: We shall call the maid and know her\nwill; and when she was demanded if she would go with that man, she said:\nYea, I shall go with him. Then they let her go, and her nurse with her,\nand so she departed, and they said to her: Thou art our sister, we pray\nGod that thou mayst increase into a thousand thousand, and that thy seed\nmay possess the gates of their enemies. Then Rebekah and her maidens\nascended upon the camels, and followed the servant of Abraham which\nhastily returned unto his lord.\n\nThat same time, when they were come, Isaac walked by the way without\nforth and looked up and saw the camels coming from far. Rebekah espied\nhim and demanded of the servant who that he was that came in the field\nagainst them. He answered and said: That is my lord Isaac, and anon she\ntook her pall or mantle and covered her. The servant anon told unto his\nlord Isaac all that he had done; which received her and led her into the\ntabernacle of Sarah his mother and wedded her, and took her in to his\nwife, and so much loved her, that the love attempered the sorrow that he\nhad for his mother. Abraham after this wedded another wife, by whom he\nhad divers children. Abraham gave to Isaac all his possessions, and to\nhis other children he gave movable goods, and departed the sons of his\nconcubines from his son Isaac whilst he yet lived. And all the days of\nthe life of Abraham were one hundred and seventy-five years, and then\ndied in good mind and age, and Isaac and Ishmael buried him by his wife\nSarah in a double spelunke [cave].\n\n\n\n\nHERE BEGINNETH THE LIFE OF ISAAC\n\nWITH THE HISTORY OF ESAU AND OF JACOB\n\n_Which is read in the Church the Second Sunday in Lent_\n\n\nIsaac was forty years old when he wedded Rebekah and she bare him no\nchildren. Wherefore he besought our Lord that she might bring forth\nfruit. Our Lord heard his prayer, and she had twain sons at once. The\nfirst was rough from the head to the foot, and he was named Esau; and\nthe other was named Jacob. Isaac the father was sixty years old when\nthese children were born. And after this, when they were grown to\nreasonable age, Esau became a ploughman, and a tiller of the earth, and\nan hunter. And Jacob was simple and dwelled at home with his mother.\nIsaac the father loved well Esau, because he ate oft of the venison that\nEsau took, and Rebekah the mother loved Jacob.\n\nJacob on a time had made a good pottage, and Esau his brother had been\nan hunting all day and came home sore an hungred, and found Jacob having\ngood pottage, and prayed him to give him some, for he was weary and much\nhungry. To whom Jacob said: If thou wilt sell to me thy patrimony and\nheritage I shall give thee some pottage. And Esau answered, Lo! I die\nfor hunger, what shall avail me mine inheritance if I die, and what\nshall profit me my patrimony? I am content that thou take it for this\npottage. Jacob then said: Swear that to me thou shalt never claim it,\nand that thou art content I shall enjoy it, and Esau sware it, and so\nsold away his patrimony, and took the pottage and ate it, and went his\nway, setting nothing thereby that he had sold his patrimony. This\naforesaid is to bring in my matter of the history that is read, for now\nfolloweth the legend as it is read in the church.\n\nIsaac began to wax old and his eyes failed and dimmed that he might not\nclearly see. And on a time he called Esau his oldest son and said to\nhim: Son mine, which answered: Father, I am here ready, to whom the\nfather said: Behold that I wax old and know not the day that I shall die\nand depart out of this world, wherefore take thine harness, thy bow and\nquiver with tackles, and go forth an hunting, and when thou hast taken\nany venison, make to me thereof such manner meat as thou knowest that I\nam wont to eat, and bring it to me that I may eat it, and that my soul\nmay bless thee ere I die. Which all these words Rebekah heard. And Esau\nwent forth for to accomplish the commandment of his father, and she said\nthen to Jacob: I have heard thy father say to Esau, thy brother: Bring\nto me of thy venison, and make thereof meat that I may eat, and that I\nmay bless thee tofore our Lord ere I die. Now my son, take heed to my\ncounsel, and go forth to the flock, and bring to me two the best kids\nthat thou canst find, and I shall make of them meat such as thy father\nshall gladly eat, which when thou hast brought to him and hast eaten he\nmay bless thee ere he die: To whom Jacob answered: Knowest thou not that\nmy brother is rough and hairy and I am smooth? If my father take me to\nhim and taste me and feel, I dread me that he shall think that I mock\nhim, and shall give me his curse for the blessing. The mother then said\nto him: In me, said she, be this curse, my son, nevertheless hear me; go\nto the flock and do that I have said to thee. He went and fetched the\nkids and delivered them to his mother, and she went and ordained them\ninto such meat as she knew well that his father loved, and took the best\nclothes that Esau had, and did them on Jacob. And the skins of the kid\nshe did about his neck and hands there as he was bare, and delivered to\nhim bread and the pulment that she had boiled. And he went to his father\nand said: Father mine, and he answered: I am here; who art thou, my son?\nJacob said: I am Esau, thy first begotten son, I have done as thou\ncommandedst me, arise, sit and eat of the venison of my hunting that thy\nsoul may bless me. Then said Isaac again to his son: How mightest thou,\nsaid he, so soon find and take it, my son? To whom he answered: It was\nthe will of God that such thing as I desired came soon to my hand. Isaac\nsaid to him: Come hither to me, my son, that I may touch and handle\nthee, that I may prove whether thou be my son Esau or not. He came to\nhis father, and when he had felt him, Isaac said: The voice truly is the\nvoice of Jacob, but the hands be the hands of Esau. And he knew him not,\nfor his hands expressed the likeness and similitude of the more\nbrother. Therefore blessing him, he said to him: Thou art then my son\nEsau? He answered and said: I am he. Then said Isaac: Bring to the meat\nof thine hunting, my son, that my soul may bless thee; which he offered\nand gave to his father, and also wine. And when he had eaten and drunken\na good draught of the wine, he said to Jacob: Come hither to me, my son,\nand kiss me; and he went to him and kissed him. Anon as he felt the\nsweet savour and smell of his clothes, blessing him he said: Lo! the\nsweet odour of my son is as the odour of a field full of flowers, whom\nour Lord bless. God give to thee of the dew of heaven, and of the\nfatness of the earth, abundance of wheat, wine, and oil, and the people\nserve thee, and the tribes worship thee. Be thou lord of thy brethren,\nand the sons of thy mother shall bow down and kneel to thee. Whosomever\ncurseth thee, be he accursed, and who that blesseth thee, with blessings\nbe he fulfilled.\n\nUnnethe [hardly] had Isaac fulfilled these words and Jacob gone out,\nwhen that Esau came with his meat that he had gotten with hunting,\nentered in, and offered to his father saying: Arise, father mine, and\neat of the venison that thy son hath ordained for thee, that thy soul\nmay bless me. Isaac said to him: Who art thou? To whom he answered, I am\nthy first begotten son Esau. Isaac then was greatly abashed and\nastonied, and marvelled more than can be thought credible. And then he\nwas in a trance, as the master of histories saith, in which he had\nknowledge that God would that Jacob should have the blessing. And said\nto Esau: Who then was he that right now a little tofore thy coming\nbrought to me venison? And I have eaten of all that he brought to me ere\nthou camest. I have blessed him, and he shall be blessed. When Esau\nheard these words of his father, he cried with a great cry, and was sore\nastonied and said: Father, I pray thee bless me also. To whom he said:\nThy brother germain is come fraudulently, and hath received thy\nblessing. Then said Esau: Certainly and justly may his name be called\nwell Jacob, for on another time tofore this he supplanted me of my\npatrimony, and now secondly he hath undernome from me my blessing. And\nyet then he said to his father: Hast thou not reserved to me one\nblessing? Isaac answered: I have ordained him to be thy lord, I have\nsubdued all his brethren to his servitude. I have stablished him in\nwheat, wine and oil. And after this what shall I do to thee, my son? To\nwhom Esau said: Hast thou not, father, yet one blessing? I beseech thee\nto bless me. Then with a great sighing and weeping Isaac moved said to\nhim: In the fatness of the earth and in the dew of heaven shall be thy\nblessing, thou shalt live in thy sword, and shalt serve thy brother.\nThen was Esau woebegone, and hated Jacob for supplanting him of his\nblessing that his father had blessed him with, and said in his heart:\nThe days of sorrow shall come to my father, for I shall slay my brother\nJacob. This was told to Rebekah, which anon sent for Jacob her son, and\nsaid to him: Lo! Esau thy brother threateneth to slay thee, therefore\nnow my son hear my voice and do as I shall counsel. Make thee ready and\ngo to my brother in Aran, and dwell there with him unto the time that\nhis anger and fury be overpast, and his indignation ceased, and that he\nforget such things that thou hast done to him, and then after that I\nshall send for thee, and bring thee hither again. And Rebekah went to\nIsaac her husband and said: I am weary of my life because of the\ndaughters of Heth, if Jacob take to him a wife of that kindred, I will\nno longer live. Isaac then called Jacob and blessed him and commanded to\nhim saying: I charge thee in no wise to take a wife of the kindred of\nCanaan, but go and walk into Mesopotamia of Syria, unto the house of\nBethuel, father of thy mother, and take to thee there a wife of the\ndaughters of Laban thine uncle. God Almighty bless thee, and make thee\ngrow and multiply, that thou mayst be increased into tourbes of people,\nand give to thee the blessings of Abraham, and to thy seed after thee,\nthat thou mayst possess and own the land of thy pilgrimage which he\ngranted to thy grandsire. When Isaac had thus said, and given him leave\nto go, he departed anon, and went into Mesopotamia of Syria to Laban,\nson of Bethuel, brother of Rebekah his mother. Esau seeing that his\nfather had blessed Jacob and sent him into Mesopotamia of Syria to wed a\nwife there, and that after his blessing commanded to him saying: Take\nthou no wife of the daughters of Canaan; and he obeying his father went\ninto Syria, proving thereby that his father saw not gladly the daughters\nof Canaan, he went to Ishmael, and took him a wife beside them that he\nhad taken tofore, that was Melech, daughter of Ishmael, son of Abraham.\n\nThen Jacob departed from Beersheba and went forth on his journey toward\nAran. When he came to a certain place after going down of the sun and\nwould rest there all night, he took of the stones that were there and\nlaid under his head and slept in the same place. And there he saw in his\nsleep a ladder standing on the earth, and the upper end thereof touched\nheaven, and angels of God ascending and descending upon it, and our Lord\nin the midst of the ladder saying to him: I am the Lord God of Abraham\nthy father, and of Isaac; the land on which thou sleepest I shall give\nto thee and to thy seed, and thy seed shall be as dust of the earth;\nthou shalt spread abroad unto the east and unto the west, and north and\nsouth, and all the tribes of the earth shall be blessed in thee and in\nthy seed. And I shall be thy keeper wheresoever thou shalt go, and shall\nbring thee again into this land, and I shall not leave till I have\naccomplished all that I have said. When Jacob was awaked from his sleep\nand dreaming, he said: Verily God is in this place, and I wist not of\nit. And he said dreadingly: How terrible is this place, none other thing\nis here but the house of God and the gate of heaven. Then Jacob arose\nearly and took the stone that lay under his head, and raised it for\nwitness, pouring oil thereon, and called the name of the place Bethel\nwhich tofore was called Luza. And there he made a vow to our Lord,\nsaying: If God be with me and keep me in the way that I walk, and give\nme bread to eat, and clothes to cover me, and I may return prosperously\ninto the house of my father, the Lord shall be my God, and this stone\nthat I have raised in witness, this shall be called the house of God.\nAnd the good of all things that thou givest to me, I shall offer to thee\nthe tithes and tenth part. Then Jacob went forth into the east, and saw\na pit in a field and three flocks of sheep lying by it, for of that pit\nwere the beasts watered. And the mouth thereof was shut and closed with\na great stone, for the custom was when all the sheep were gathered, they\nrolled away the stone, and when they had drunken they laid the stone\nagain at the pit mouth. And then he said to the shepherds: Brethren,\nwhence are ye? Which answered: Of Aran. Then he asking them said: Know\nye not Laban, son of Nahor? They said: We know him well. How fareth he,\nsaid he, is he all whole? He fareth well, said they; and lo! Rachel his\ndaughter cometh there with her flock. Then said Jacob: It is yet far to\neven, it is yet time that the flocks be led to drink, and after be\ndriven to pasture, which answered: We may not so do till all the beasts\nbe gathered, and then we remove the stone from the mouth of the pit and\nwater our beasts. And as they talked, Rachel came with the flock of her\nfather, for she kept that time the beasts. And when Jacob saw her and\nknew that she was his erne's [uncle's] daughter, and that they were his\nerne's sheep, he removed the stone from the pit's mouth, and when her\nsheep had drunken, he kissed her, and weeping he told her that he was\nbrother to her father and son of Rebekah. Then she hied her and told it\nto her father, which when he understood that Jacob, his sister's son,\nwas come, he ran against him and, embracing, kissed him, and led him\ninto his house. And when he had heard the cause of his journey he said:\nThou art my mouth and my flesh.\n\nAnd when he had been there the space of a month, he demanded Jacob if he\nwould gladly serve him because he was his cousin, and what hire and\nreward he would have. He had two daughters, the more was named Leah, and\nthe less was called Rachel, but Leah was blear-eyed, and Rachel was fair\nof visage and well-favored, whom Jacob loved, and said: I shall serve\nthee for Rachel thy younger daughter seven years. Laban answered: It is\nbetter that I give her to thee than to a strange man; dwell and abide\nwith me, and thou shalt have her. And so Jacob served him for Rachel\nseven years, and him thought it but a little while, because of the great\nlove that he had to her. And at the end of seven years, Jacob said to\nLaban: Give to me my wife, for the time is come that I should have her.\nThen Laban called all his friends and made a feast for the wedding, and\nat night he brought in Leah, the more daughter, and delivered to her an\nhandmaid named Zilpah. Then Jacob, when the morning came, saw that it\nwas Leah. He said to Laban her father: What hast thou done? Have I not\nserved thee for Rachel, why hast thou brought Leah to me? Laban\nanswered: It is not the usage ne custom of our country to give the\nyounger first to be wedded, but fulfil and make an end of this marriage\nthis week, and then shall I give to thee Rachel my daughter for other\nseven years that thou shalt serve to me. Jacob agreed gladly, and when\nthat week was passed, he wedded Rachel to his wife. To whom Laban her\nfather gave an handmaid named Bilhah. Nevertheless when the wedding of\nthe younger was finished, because of the great love that he had to her,\nhim thought that the other seven years were but short.\n\n[And Jacob while he served Laban had these sons: Reuben, Simeon, Levi,\nJudah, Dan, Naphtali, Gad, Asher, Issachar, Zebulon, Joseph.] When\nJoseph was born, Jacob said to Laban his wives' father: Give me leave to\ndepart that I may go in to my country and my land; give to me my wives\nand children for whom I have served thee that I may go hence. Thou\nknowest what service I have served thee. Laban said to him: I have\nfounden grace in thy sight; I know it by experience that God hath\nblessed me for thee; I have ordained the reward that I shall give to\nthee. Then Jacob answered: Thou knowest how I have served thee, and how\nmuch thy possession was in my hands. Thou hadst but little when I came\nto thee, and now thou art rich, God hath blessed thee at mine entry; it\nis now right that I provide somewhat toward mine house. Laban said: What\nshall I give to thee? Jacob answered: I will nothing but that thou do\nthat I demand. I shall yet feed and keep thy beasts, and depart asunder\nall the sheep of divers colors. And all that ever shall be of divers\ncolors and spotty, as well in sheep as in goats, let me have them for my\nreward and meed, and Laban granted thereto. Then at time of departing,\nLaban took them of two colors, and Jacob them that were of one color.\nThus was Jacob made much rich out of measure, and had many flocks, and\nservants both men and women, camels and asses.\n\nAfter that Jacob had heard Laban's sons say: Jacob hath taken all that\nwas our father's from him, and of his faculty is made rich, he was\nabashed and understood well by Laban's looking that he was not so\nfriendly to himward as he had been tofore. And also our Lord said to him\nthat he should return into the land of his fathers and to his\ngeneration, and that he would be with him. He then called Rachel and\nLeah into the field whereas he fed his flocks, and said to them: I see\nwell by your father's visage that he is not toward me as he was\nyesterday or that other day; forsooth the God of my father was with me,\nand ye know well how I have served your father with all my might and\nstrength, but he hath deceived me, and hath changed mine hire and meed\nten times, and yet our Lord hath not suffered him to grieve me. When he\nsaid the beasts of party color should be mine, then all the ewes brought\nforth lambs of variable colors. And when he said the contrary they\nbrought forth all white. God hath taken the substance of your father and\nhath given it to me. And now God hath commanded me to depart, wherefore\nmake you ready and let us depart hence. Then answered Rachel and Leah:\nShall we have nothing else of our father's faculty and of the heritage\nof his house? Shall he repute us as strangers, and he hath eaten and\nsold our goods? Sith God hath taken the goods of our father and hath\ngiven it to us and to our children, wherefore all that God commanded to\nthee, do it.\n\nJacob arose and set his children and his wives upon his camels, and went\nhis way and took all his substance, and flocks, and all that he had\ngotten in Mesopotamia and went toward his father Isaac into the land of\nCanaan. That time was Laban gone to shear his sheep, and Rachel stole\naway the idols of her father. Jacob would not let Laban know of his\ndeparting, and when he was departed with all that longed to him of\nright, he came to the mount of Gilead. It was told to Laban, the third\nday after, that Jacob was fled and gone, who anon took his brethren and\npursued him by the space of seven days and overtook him in the mount of\nGilead. He saw our Lord in his sleep saying to him: Beware that thou\nspeak not angrily ne hard words to Jacob. That time Jacob had set his\ntabernacle in the hill, and when he came thither with his brethren, he\nsaid to Jacob: Why hast thou done thus to me to take away my daughters\nas prisoners taken by sword? Why fleddest thou from me and wouldst not\nlet me have knowledge thereof? Thou hast not suffered me to kiss my sons\nand daughters, thou hast done follily. Now may I do thee harm and evil,\nbut the God of thy father said to me yesterday: Beware that thou speak\nno hard words against Jacob. Thou desirest to go to the house of thy\nfather, why hast thou stolen my gods? Jacob answered: That I departed\nthee not knowing, I dreaded that violently thou wouldst have taken from\nme thy daughters. And where thou reprovest me of theft, whosoever have\nstolen thy gods let him be slain tofore our brethren. Seek and what thou\nfindest that is thine, take with thee.\n\nHe, saying this, knew not that Rachel had stolen her father's gods. Then\nLaban entered the tabernacle of Jacob and Leah, and sought and found\nnothing. And when he came into the tabernacle of Rachel, she hied her\nand hid the idols under the litter of her camel and sat upon it. And he\nsought and found nought. Then said Rachel: Let not my lord be wroth for\nI may not arise to thee, for sickness is fallen to me, and so she\ndeceived her father. Then Jacob, being angry and grudging, said to\nLaban: What is my trespass and what have I sinned to thee that thou hast\npursued me, and hast searched everything? What hast thou now founden of\nall the substance of thy house? Lay it forth tofore my brethren and thy\nbrethren, that they judge between me and thee. I have served thee twenty\nyears and have been with thee, thy sheep and thy goats were never\nbarren. I have eaten no wethers of thy flock, nor beast hath destroyed\nnone. I shall make all good what was stolen. I prayed therefore day and\nnight, I labored both in heat and in cold, sleep fled from mine eyes.\nThus I served thee in thy house twenty years, fourteen for thy daughters\nand six for thy flocks. Thou hast changed mine hire and reward ten\ntimes. But if the God of my father Abraham and the dread of Isaac had\nbeen with me, haply thou wouldst now have left me naked. Our Lord God\nhath beholden mine affliction and the labor of mine hands and reproved\nthee yesterday. Laban answered to him: My daughters and sons, and thy\nflocks, and all that thou beholdest are thine, what may I do to my sons\nand nephews? Let us now be friends, and make we a fast league and\nconfederacy together. Then Jacob raised a stone, and raised it in token\nof friendship and peace, and so they ate together in friendship, and\nsware each to other to abide in love ever after. And after this Laban\narose in the night, and kissed his daughters and sons, and blessed them,\nand returned into his country.\n\nJacob went forth in his journey that he had taken. Angels of God met\nhim, which when he saw, he said: These be the castles of God, and called\nthat place Mahanaim. He sent messengers tofore him to Esau his brother\nin the land of Seir, in the land of Edom, and bade them say thus to\nEsau: This saith thy brother Jacob: I have dwelled with Laban unto this\nday, I have oxen and asses, servants both men and women. I send now a\nlegation unto my lord that I may find grace in his sight. These\nmessengers returned to Jacob and said: We came to Esau thy brother, and\nlo! he cometh for to meet thee with four hundred men. Jacob was sore\nafraid then, and divided his company into twain turmes [two troops],\nsaying: If Esau come to that one and destroy that, that other shall yet\nbe saved. Then said Jacob: O God of my father Abraham, and God of my\nfather Isaac, O Lord that saidst to me, return into thy land and place\nof thy nativity, and saidst I shall do well to thee, I am the least in\nall thy mercies, and in thy truth that thou hast granted to thy servant,\nwith my staff I have gone this river of Jordan, and now I return with\ntwo turmes. I beseech the Lord keep me from the hands of my brother\nEsau, for I fear him greatly lest he come and smite down the mother with\nthe sons. Thou hast said that thou shouldest do well to me and shouldest\nspread my seed like unto the gravel of the sea, and that it may not be\nnumbered for multitude. Then when he had slept that night, he ordained\ngifts for to send to his brother, goats two hundred, kids twenty, sheep\ntwo hundred, and rams twenty; forty kine and twenty bulls, twenty asses\nand ten foals of them. And he sent by his servants all these beasts; and\nbade them say that Jacob his servant sent to him this present and that\nhe followeth after. And Jacob thought to please him with gifts.\n\nThe night following, him thought a man wrestled with him all that night\ntill the morning, and when he saw he might not overcome him, he hurted\nthe sinew of his thigh that he halted thereof, and said to him: Let me\ngo and leave me, for it is in the morning. Then Jacob answered: I shall\nnot leave thee but if thou bless me. He said to him: What is thy name?\nhe answered: Jacob. Then he said: Nay, said he, thy name shall no more\nbe called Jacob, but Israel, for if thou hast been strong against God,\nhow much more shalt thou prevail against men? Then Jacob said to him:\nWhat is thy name? tell me. He answered, Why demandest thou my name,\nwhich is marvellous? And he blessed him in the same place. Jacob called\nthe name of that same place Penuel, saying: I have seen our Lord face to\nface, and my soul is made safe. And anon as he was past Penuel the sun\narose. He halted on his foot, and therefore the children of Israel eat\nno sinews because it dried in the thigh of Jacob. Then Jacob lifting up\nhis eyes saw Esau coming and four hundred men with him, and divided the\nsons of Leah and of Rachel, and of both their handmaidens, and set each\nhandmaid and their children tofore in the first place, Leah and her sons\nin the second, and Rachel and Joseph all behind. And he going tofore\nkneeled down to ground and, worshipping his brother, approached him.\nEsau ran for to meet with his brother, and embraced him, straining his\nneck, and weeping kissed him, and he looked forth and saw the women and\ntheir children, and said: What been these and to whom longen they? Jacob\nanswered: They be children which God hath given to me thy servant and\nhis handmaidens, and their children approached and kneeled down, and\nLeah with her children also worshipped him, and last of all Joseph and\nRachel worshipped him. Then said Esau: Whose been these turmes [troops]\nwhich I have met? Jacob answered: I have sent them to thee, my lord,\nunto the end that I may stand in thy grace. Esau said: I have many\nmyself, keep these and let them be thine. Nay, said Jacob, I pray thee\nto take this gift which God hath sent me that I may find grace in thy\nsight, for meseemeth I see thy visage like the visage of God; and\ntherefore be thou to me merciful, and take this blessing of me. Unnethe\n[hardly] by compelling he taking it, said: Let us go together, I shall\naccompany thee and be fellow of thy journey. Then said Jacob: Thou\nknowest well, my lord, that I have young children and tender, and sheep\nand oxen, which, if I over-labored, should die all in a day, wherefore\nplease it you, my lord, to go tofore, and I shall follow as I may with\nmy children and beasts. Esau answered: I pray thee then let my fellows\nabide and accompany thee, whatsoever need thou have. Jacob said: It is\nno need, I need no more but one, that I may stand in thy favor, my lord.\nAnd Esau returned then the same way and journey that he came into Seir.\nAnd Jacob came to Succoth and builded there an house, and from thence he\nwent in to Shalem, the town of Shechem which is in the land of Canaan,\nand bought there a part of a field, in which he fixed his tabernacles,\nof the sons of Hamor father of Shechem for an hundred lambs. And there\nhe raised an altar, and worshipped upon it the strongest God of Israel.\n\nAfter this our Lord appeared to Jacob and said: Arise and go up to\nBethel and dwell there, and make there an altar to the Lord that\nappeared to thee in the way when thou fleddest from thy brother Esau.\nJacob then called all them of his house and said: Cast away from you all\nyour strange gods that be among you, and make you clean and change your\nclothes; arise and let us go into Bethel, and make we there an altar to\nour Lord that heard me in the day of my tribulation, and was fellow of\nmy journey. Then they gave to him all their strange gods, and the gold\nthat hung on their ears, and he dalf a pit behind the city of Shechem\nand threw them therein. And when they departed, all the countries\nthereabout were afraid and durst not pursue them. Then Jacob came to a\nplace called Luz which is in the land of Canaan, and all the people with\nhim, which otherwise is called Bethel. He edified there an altar to our\nLord, and named that place the House of God. Our Lord appeared to him in\nthat place when he fled from his brother Esau. That same time died\nDeborah, the nurse of Rebekah, and was buried at the root of Bethel\nunder an oak. Our Lord appeared again to Jacob after that he was\nreturned from Mesopotamia of Syria, and was come into Bethel, and\nblessed him saying: Thou shalt no more be called Jacob but Israel shall\nbe thy name, and called him Israel, and said to him: I am God Almighty,\ngrow and multiply, folks and peoples of nations shall come of thee,\nkings shall come of thy loins. The land that I gave to Abraham and Isaac\nI shall give to thee and thy seed; and vanished from him.\n\nHe then raised a stone for a remembrance in the place where God spake to\nhim, and anointed it with oil, calling the name of the place Bethel. He\nwent thence and came in veer time unto the land that goeth to Ephrath,\nin which place Rachel bare a son. And the death drawing near, she named\nhim Benoni, which is as much to say as the son of my sorrow. The father\ncalled him Benjamin, that is to say the son of the right hand. There\nRachel died and was buried in the way toward Ephrath, that is Bethlehem.\nJacob raised a title upon her tomb; this is the title of the monument of\nRachel unto this present day. Jacob went thence and came to Isaac his\nfather into Mamre the city of Arbah, that is Hebron, in which dwelled\nAbraham and Isaac. And all the days of Isaac were complete, which were\nan hundred and fourscore years, and he consumed and died in good mind,\nand Esau and Jacob his sons buried him.\n\nThus endeth the history of Isaac and his two sons Esau and Jacob.\n\n\n\n\nHERE BEGINNETH THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN\n\n_Which is read the Third Sunday in Lent_\n\n\nJoseph when he was sixteen years old began to keep and feed the flock\nwith his brethren, he being yet a child, and was accompanied with the\nsons of Bilhah and Zilpah, wives of his father. Joseph complained on his\nbrethren, and accused them to their father of the most evil sin. Israel\nloved Joseph above all his sons for as much as he had gotten him in his\nold age, and made for him a motley coat. His brethren then seeing that\nhe was beloved of his father more than they were, hated him and might\nnot speak to him a peaceable word. It happed on a time that Joseph\ndreamed, and saw a sweven [dream], and told it to his brethren, which\ncaused them to hate him yet more. Joseph said to his brethren: Hear ye\nmy dream that I had; methought that we bound sheaves in the field, and\nmy sheaf stood up and yours standing round about and worshipped my\nsheaf. His brethren answered: Shalt thou be our king and shall we be\nsubject and obey thy commandment? Therefore this cause of dreams and of\nthese words ministered the more fume of hate and envy. Joseph saw\nanother sweven and told to his father and brethren: Methought I saw in\nmy sleep the sun, the moon, and eleven stars worship me. Which when his\nfather and his brethren had heard, the father blamed him, and said: What\nmay betoken this dream that thou sawest? Trowest thou that I, thy mother\nand thy brethren, shall worship thee upon the earth? His brethren had\ngreat envy hereat.\n\nThe father thought and considered a thing secretly in himself. On a time\nwhen his brethren kept their flocks of sheep in Shechem, Israel said to\nJoseph: Thy brethren feed their sheep in Shechem, come and I shall send\nthee to them, which answered: I am ready, and he said: Go and see if all\nthings be well and prosperous at thy brethren and beasts, and come again\nand tell me what they do. He went from the vale of Hebron and came unto\nShechem. There a man found him erring in the field, and asked him what\nhe sought, and he answered: I seek my brethren, tell me where they feed\ntheir flocks. The man said to him: They been departed from this place, I\nheard them say Let us go in to Dothan. Which then when his brethren saw\nhim come from far, tofore he approached to them they thought to slay\nhim, and spake together saying: Lo! see the dreamer cometh. Come and let\nus slay him and put him into this old cistern. And we shall say that\nsome wild evil beast hath devoured him, and then shall appear what his\ndreams shall profit him. Reuben hearing this, thought for to deliver him\nfrom their hands, and said: Let us not slay him ne shed his blood, but\nkeep your hands undefouled. This he said, willing to keep him from their\nhands and render him again to his father. Anon then as he came they\ntook off his motley coat, and set him into an old cistern that had no\nwater. As they sat for to eat bread they saw Ishmaelites coming from\nGilead, and their camels bringing spices and raisins into Egypt. Then\nsaid Judah to his brethren: What should it profit us if we slew our\nbrother and shed his blood? It is better that he be sold to Ishmaelites\nand our hands be not defouled, he is our own brother and our flesh. His\nbrethren agreed to his words, and drew him out of the cistern, and sold\nhim to the Midianitish merchants passing forth by to Ishmaelites for\nthirty pieces of silver, which led him into Egypt. At this time when he\nwas sold Reuben was not there, but was in another field with his beasts.\nAnd when he returned and came unto the cistern and found not Joseph, he\ntare his clothes for sorrow, and came to his brethren and said: The\nchild is not yonder, whither shall I go to seek him? He had supposed his\nbrethren had slain him in his absence. They told him what they had done,\nand took his coat, and besprinkled it with the blood of a kid which they\nslew, and sent it to their father saying: See whether this be the coat\nof thy son or not, this we have found. Which anon as the father saw it\nsaid: This is my son's coat, an evil wild beast hath devoured him, some\nbeast hath eaten him; and rent his clothes and did on him a sackcloth,\nbewailing and sorrowing his son a long time. All his sons gathered them,\ntogether for to comfort their father and assuage his sorrow, but he\nwould take no comfort, but said: I shall descend to my son into hell for\nto bewail him there. And thus, he abiding in sorrow, the Midianites\ncarried Joseph into Egypt, and sold him to Potiphar, eunuch of Pharaoh,\nmaster of his knights.\n\nThus was Joseph led into Egypt, and Potiphar, prince of the host of\nPharaoh, an Egyptian, bought him of the hands of Ishmaelites. Our Lord\nGod was always with Joseph, and he was wise, ready, and prosperous in\nall manner of things. He dwelled in his lord's house and pleased so well\nhis lord, that he stood in his grace that he made him upperest and above\nall other, and betook him the rule and governance of all his house,\nwhich well and wisely governed the household and all that he had charge\nof. Our Lord blessed the house of Egypt for Joseph's sake, and\nmultiplied as well in beasts as in fields all his substance. Joseph was\nfair of visage and well favored.\n\nAfter many days the lady, his master's wife, beheld and cast her eyes on\nJoseph, and tempted him to sin. He refused that, and would not attend ne\nlisten to her words, ne would not consent to so sinful a work, and said\nto her: Lo! hath not my lord delivered to me all that he hath in his\nhouse? and he knoweth not what he hath, and there is nothing therein but\nthat it is in my power and at my commandment except thee, which art his\nwife. How may I do this evil and sin to my lord? Such manner, or\nsemblable words, he said daily to her, and the woman was the more\ndesirous and grievous to the young man, and he always forsook and\nrefused the sin. And when the lady saw that she was refused, she cried\nand called the men of the house and accused Joseph falsely. When the\nlord heard this, anon he gave faith and believed his wife, and being\nsore wroth, set Joseph in prison where the prisoners of the king were\nkept and he was there fast set in. Our Lord God was with Joseph, and had\nmercy on him, and made him in the favor and grace of the chief keeper of\nthe prison, in so much that he delivered to Joseph the keeping of all\nthe prisoners, and what he did was done, and the chief jailer was\npleased with all. Our Lord was with him and directed all his works.\n\nAfter this it fell so that two officers of the king's trespassed unto\ntheir lord, wherefore he was wroth with them and commanded them to the\nprison whereas Joseph was. That one of them was the butler, and that\nother the baker; and the keeper betook them to Joseph to keep, and he\nserved them. After a while that they had been in prison they both saw on\none night a dream of which they were astoned and abashed, and when\nJoseph was come in to serve them, and saw them heavy, he demanded them\nwhy they were heavier than they were wont to be, which answered: We have\ndreamed and there is none to interpret it to us. Joseph said to them:\nSuppose ye that God may not give me grace to interpret it? Tell to me\nwhat ye saw in your sleep. Then the butler told first and said:\nMethought I saw a vine had three branches, and after they had flowered\nthe grapes were ripe, and then I took the cup of Pharaoh in my hand, and\ntook the grapes and wrang out of them wine into the cup that I held,\nand presented it to Pharaoh to drink. Joseph answered: The three\nbranches be yet three days, after which Pharaoh shall remember thy\nservice and shall restore thee into thy foremost office and gree, for to\nserve him as thou wert wont to do. Then I pray thee to remember me when\nthou art at thine above, and be to me so merciful to sue unto Pharaoh\nthat he take me out of this prison, for I was stolen out of the land of\nHebrews and am innocently set here in prison. Then the master baker saw\nthat he had wisely interpreted the butler's dream; he said: Methought\nthat I had three baskets of meat upon my head, and in that one basket\nthat was highest methought I bare all the meat of the bakehouse and\nbirds came and ate of it. Joseph answered: This is the interpretation of\nthe dream; the three baskets be three days yet to come, after which\nPharaoh shall smite off thy head and shall hang thee on the cross, and\nthe birds shall tear thy flesh. And the third day after this Pharaoh\nmade a great feast unto his children, and remembered him, among the\nmeals, on the master butler and the master baker. He restored his butler\nunto his office, and to serve him of the cup, and that other was hanged,\nthat the truth of the interpreter was believed and proved.\nNotwithstanding the master butler in his wealth forgat Joseph his\ninterpreter.\n\nTwo years after Pharaoh saw in his sleep a dream. Him thought he stood\nupon the river, from which he saw seven oxen ascend to the land which\nwere fair and right fat, and were fed in a fat pasture; he saw other\nseven come out of the river, poor and lean, and were fed in places\nplenteous and burgeoning. These devoured the other that were so fat and\nfair. Herewith he started out of his sleep, and after slept again, and\nsaw another dream. He saw seven ears of corn standing on one stalk, full\nand fair of corns, and as many other ears void and smitten with drought,\nwhich devoured the beauty of the first seven. In the morning Pharaoh\nawoke and was greatly afeard of these dreams, and sent for all\nconjectors and diviners of Egypt, and wise men; and when they were\ngathered he told to them his dream, and there was none that could\ninterpret it. Then at last the master butler, remembering Joseph, said:\nI knowledge my sin, on a time the king being wroth with his servants,\nsent me and the master of the bakers into prison, where we in one night\ndreamed both prodigies of things coming. And there was a child of the\nHebrews, servant to the jailer, to whom we told our dreams and he\nexpounded them to us and said what should happen; I am restored to mine\noffice and that other is hanged on the cross.\n\nAnon, by the king's commandment, Joseph was taken out of prison and\nshaved, bathed, and changed his clothes, and brought tofore Pharaoh, to\nwhom he said: I saw a dream which I have showed unto wise men, and there\nis none that can tell me the interpretation thereof. To whom Joseph\nanswered: God shall answer by me things prosperous to Pharaoh. Then\nPharaoh told to him his dreams, like as is tofore written, of the seven\nfat oxen and seven lean, and how the lean devoured the fat, and in\nlikewise of the ears. Joseph answered: The king's dreams are one thing\nwhich God hath showed to Pharaoh. The seven fat oxen and the seven ears\nfull, betoken seven years to come of great plenty and commodious, and\nthe seven lean oxen, and the seven void ears smitten with drought,\nbetoken seven years after them of great hunger and scarcity. Lo! there\nshall come first seven years of great fertility and plenty in all the\nland of Egypt, after whom shall follow other seven years of so great\nsterility, barrenness, and scarcity, that the abundance of the first\nshall be all forgotten. The great hunger of these latter years shall\nconsume all the plenty of the first years. The latter dream pertaineth\nto the same, because God would that it should be fulfilled. Now\ntherefore let the king provide for a man that is wise and witty, that\nmay command and ordain provosts and officers in all places of the realm,\nthat they gather into garners and barns the fifth part of all the corn\nand fruits that shall grow these first seven plenteous years that be to\ncome, and that all this wheat may be kept in barns and garners in towns\nand villages, that it may be made ready against the coming of the seven\nscarce years that shall oppress by hunger all Egypt, to the end that the\npeople be not enfamined. This counsel pleased much to Pharaoh and to all\nhis ministers. Then Pharaoh said to his servants: Where should we find\nsuch a man as this is, which is fulfilled with the spirit of God? And\nthen he said to Joseph: Forasmuch as God hath showed to thee all that\nthou hast spoken, trowest thou that we might find any wiser than thou\nor like to thee? Thou shalt be upperest of my house, and to the\ncommandment of thy mouth all people shall obey. I only shall go tofore\nthee and sit but one seat above thee. Yet said Pharaoh to Joseph: Lo! I\nhave ordained thee above and master upon all the land of Egypt. He took\na ring from his hand and gave it into his hand, and clad him with a\ndouble stole furred with bise; and a golden collar he put about his\nneck, and made him to ascend upon his chair; the second trumpet crying\nthat all men should kneel tofore him, and that they should know him\nupperest provost of all the land of Egypt. Then said the king of Egypt\nto Joseph: I am Pharaoh, without thy commandment shall no man move hand\nnor foot in all the land of Egypt. He changed his name and called him in\nthe tongue of Egypt: The saviour of the world. He gave to him a wife\nnamed Asenath, daughter of Poti-phera, priest of Eliopoleos.\n\nJoseph went forth then into the land of Egypt. Joseph was thirty years\nold when he stood in the favor and grace of Pharaoh. And he went round\nabout all the region of Egypt. The plenteousness and fertility of the\nseven years came, and sheaves and shocks of corn were brought in to the\nbarns; all the abundance of fruits was laid in every town. There was so\ngreat plenty of wheat that it might be compared to the gravel of the\nsea, and the plenty thereof exceedeth measure. Joseph had two sons by\nhis wife ere the famine and hunger came, which Asenath the priest's\ndaughter brought forth, of whom he called the name of the first\nManasseh, saying: God hath made me to forget all my labors, and the\nhouse of my father hath forgotten me. He called the name of the second\nson Ephraim, saying: God hath made me to grow in the land of my poverty.\n\nThen passed the seven years of plenty and fertility that were in Egypt,\nand the seven years of scarcity and hunger began to come, which Joseph\nhad spoken of tofore, and hunger began to wax and grow in the universal\nworld; also in all the land of Egypt was hunger and scarcity. And when\nthe people hungered they cried to Pharaoh asking meat, to whom he\nanswered: Go ye to Joseph, and whatsoever he saith to you do ye. Daily\ngrew and increased the hunger in all the land. Then Joseph opened the\nbarns and garners, and sold corn to the Egyptians, for the hunger\noppressed them sore. All provinces came into Egypt for to buy meat to\nthem, and to eschew the hunger.\n\nJacob, father unto Joseph, heard tell that corn and victuals were sold\nin Egypt, and said to his sons: Why be ye negligent? I have heard say\nthat corn is sold in Egypt; go ye thither and buy for us that is\nnecessary and behoveful, that we may live, and consume not for need.\nThen the ten brethren of Joseph descended into Egypt for to buy wheat,\nand Benjamin was left at home with the father, because whatsoever happed\nto the brethren in their journey. Then they entered into the land of\nEgypt with others for to buy corn. There was great famine in the land of\nCanaan, and Joseph was prince in the land of Egypt, also by his\ncommandment wheat was sold unto the people. Then when his brethren were\ncome and had adored and worshipped him, he anon knew them, and spake to\nthem, as to strangers, hard words, demanding them saying: Whence be ye?\nWhich answered: Of the land of Canaan, and come hither to buy that is\nnecessary for us. And though he knew his brethren, yet was he unknown of\nthem. He remembered the dreams that he sometime had seen, and told them\nand said: Ye be spies and be come hither for to espy the weakest places\nof this land, which said to him: It is not so, my lord, but we thy\nservants be come for to buy victuals. We be all sons to one man, we come\npeaceably, ne we thy servants think ne imagine none evil. To whom he\nanswered: It is all otherwise, ye be come for to espy and consider the\nsecretest places of this realm. Then they said: We are twelve brethren,\nthy servants, sons of one man in the land of Canaan, the youngest is at\nhome with our father, and that other is dead. That is, said he, that I\nsaid; ye be spies. Now I have of you the experience. I swear to you by\nthe health of Pharaoh ye shall not depart till that your youngest\nbrother come. Send ye one of you for him to bring him hither. Ye shall\nabide in fetters in prison till the truth be proved whether the things\nthat ye have said be true or false, else, by the health of Pharaoh, ye\nbe spies. And delivered them to be kept three days. The third day they\nwere brought out of prison, to whom he said: I dread God, if ye be\npeaceable as ye say, do as ye have said, and ye shall live. Let one\nbrother be bounden in prison, and go ye your way, and lead home the\nwheat that ye have bought into your houses, and bring to me with you\nyour youngest brother, that I may prove your words, that ye die not.\nThey did as he said, and spake together: We be worthy and well deserved\nto suffer this, for we have sinned in our brother, seeing his anguish\nwhen he prayed us and we heard him not, therefore this tribulation is\nfallen upon us. Of whom Reuben said: Said not I to you, in no wise sin\nnot ye in the child, and ye would not hear me? Now his blood is wroken.\nThey knew not that Joseph understood them, forasmuch as he spake alway\nto them by an interpreter. Then Joseph turned him a little and wept.\nAfter he returned to them, and took Simeon in their presence and bound\nhim, and sent him to prison, and commanded to his ministers to fill\ntheir sacks with wheat, and to put each man's money in their sacks, and\nabove that to give them meat to spend in their way; which did so. And\nthey took their wheat and laid it on their asses and departed on their\nway. After, one of them, on the way, opened his sack for to give his\nbeast meat, and found his money in the mouth of his sack and said to his\nbrethren: My money is given to me again, lo! I have found it in my sack.\nAnd they were all astonied: What is this that God hath done to us? Then\nthey came home to their father in the land of Canaan and told to him all\nthings that was fallen to them, saying: The lord of the country hath\nspoken hard to us and had supposed that we been spies of that province,\nto whom we answered that, we were peaceable people ne were no such\nspies, and that we were twelve sons gotten of one father, one is dead\nand the youngest is with our father in the land of Canaan. Which then\nsaid to us: Now shall I prove whether ye be peaceable or no. Ye shall\nleave here one brother with me, and lead home that is necessary for you,\nand go your way and see that ye bring with you your youngest brother\nthat I may know that ye be none espies and that ye may receive this\nbrother that I hold in prison, and then forthon what that ye will buy ye\nshall have license. And this said, each of them poured out the wheat,\nand every man found his money bounden in the mouth of every sack. Then\nsaid Jacob their father: Ye have made me without children. Joseph is\ngone and lost, Simeon is bounden in prison, and Benjamin ye will take\naway from me, on me come all these evils. To Reuben answered: Slay my\ntwo sons if I bring him not again to thee; deliver him to me in my hand,\nand I shall restore him again to thee. The father said: My son shall not\ngo with you, his brother is dead and he is left now alone, if any\nadversity should hap to him in the way that ye go into, ye shall lead my\nold hairs with sorrow to hell.\n\nIn the meanwhile famine and hunger oppressed all the land greatly. And\nwhen the corn that they brought from Egypt was consumed, Jacob said to\nhis sons: Return ye into Egypt and buy for us some meat, that we may\nlive. Judah answered: That man said to us, under swearing of great\noaths, that: Ye shall not see my face ne come into my presence, but if\nye bring your youngest brother with you. Therefore if thou wilt send him\nwith us, we shall go together and shall buy for us that shall be\nnecessary, and if thou wilt not we shall not go. The man said as we oft\nhave said to thee, that if we bring him not we shall not see his visage.\nIsrael said to them: This have ye done into my misery, that ye told to\nhim that ye had another brother. And they answered: The man demanded of\nus by order our progeny, if our father lived, if we had any brother. And\nwe answered him consequently after that he demanded, we wist not what he\nwould say, ne that he said bring your brother with you. Send the child\nwith us that we may go forth and live, and that we ne our children die\nnot for hunger. I shall receive thy son, and require him of my hand. If\nI lead him not thither and bring him again, I shall be guilty to thee of\nthe sin ever after. If there had been no delay of this, we had been\nthere and come again by this time.\n\nThen Israel their father said to them: If it be so necessary as ye say,\ndo ye as ye will; take with you of the best fruits of this land in your\nvessels, and give ye and present to that man gifts, a little raisins,\nand honey, storax, stacten, terebinthe, and dates, and bear with you\ndouble money, and also the same money that ye found in your sacks, lest\nthere be any error therefore; and take with you Benjamin, your brother.\nMy God, that is almighty, make him pleasant unto you, and that ye may\nreturn in safety with this your brother and him also that he holdeth in\nprison; I shall be as a man barren therewhiles, without children. Then\nthe brethren took the gifts and double money and Benjamin, and went\nforth into Egypt, and came and stood tofore Joseph; whom when he had\nseen, and Benjamin, he commanded to the steward of his house that he\nshould do slay sheep and calves and make a feast, for these brethren\nshall dine with me this day. He did as he was commanded and brought the\nmen unto his lord's house.\n\nThen were they all afeard and said softly together: Because of the money\nthat we had in our sacks we be brought in that he take us with the\ndefault, and shall by violence bring us and our asses into servitude.\nWherefore they said to the steward of the house, in the gate of the\nhouse ere they entered, saying: We pray thee to hear us: the last time\nthat we came to buy victual, which when we had bought and departed, and\nwere on our way, for to give our beasts meat we opened our sacks, and we\nfound in the mouth of our sacks our money that we had paid, which we now\nbring again of the same weight, and we have more other for to buy to us\nthat shall be necessary. It is not in our conscience to have it, we weet\nnever who put it in our sacks. He answered to him: Peace be among you,\nfear ye nothing, the God of your father hath given to you the treasure\nthat ye found in your sacks, for the money that ye paid to me I have it\nready. And then he brought in Simeon to them, and brought them into the\nhouse, and washed their feet, and gave meat to their asses. They made\nready and ordained their gifts and presents against the coming of\nJoseph. They heard say that they should dine and eat there.\n\nThen Joseph entered into the house, and they offered to him the gifts,\nholding them in their hands, and worshipped him falling down to the\nground. And he debonairly saluted them and demanded them, saying: Is\nyour father in good health of whom ye told me, liveth he yet? They\nanswered: Thy servant our father is in good health and liveth yet, and\nkneeled down and worshipped him. Then, said he, casting his eyes on his\nbrother Benjamin that was of one mother, and said: Is this your young\nbrother of whom ye told me? And also said, God be merciful to thee, my\nson; he hied him from themward, for he was moved in all his spirits and\nwept on his brother, and went into his bedchamber. After this he washed\nhis visage and came out making good countenance and commanded to set\nbread on the board, and after that he set his brethren in order, each\nafter their age, and ate together, and Joseph sat and ate with the\nEgyptians. For it was not lawful to the Egyptians to eat with the\nHebrews. And each of them were well served, but Benjamin had the best\npart, and they ate and drank so much that they were drunken.\n\nThen Joseph commanded the steward of his house to fill their sacks with\nwheat as much as they might receive, and the money of the wheat put it\ninto every man's sack, and take my cup of silver, and the money of the\nyoungest, and put that in his sack. And all this was done. And on the\nmorn betimes they were suffered to depart with their asses. And when\nthey were gone out of the town and a little on their way, then Joseph\nsaid to his steward: Make thee ready and ride after, and say to them:\nWhy have ye done evil for good? The cup that my lord is accustomed to\ndrink in, ye have stolen, ye might not do a worse thing. He did as\nJoseph had commanded and overtook them, and said to them all by order\nlike as he had charge, which answered: Why saith your lord so, and doth\nto us his servants such letting? The money that we found in our sacks we\nbrought again to thee from the land of Canaan, and how may it follow\nthat we should steal any gold or silver from the house of thy lord?\nLook! at whom it be found of us all thy servants, let him die. Which\nsaid to them: Be it after your sentence, at whom that it ever be found\nhe shall be my servant and the others shall go free and be not guilty.\nThen he hied and set down all their sacks, beginning at the oldest unto\nthe youngest, and at last found the cup in the mouth of the sack of\nBenjamin. Then they all for sorrow cut and rent their clothes, and laded\ntheir asses again, and returned all into the town again. Then Judah\nentered first with his brethren unto Joseph and all they together fell\ndown platte to the ground. To whom Joseph said: Why have ye done thus?\nKnow not ye that there is no man like to me in the science of knowledge?\nTo whom Judah answered: What shall we answer to thee, my lord; or what\nshall we speak or rightfully desire? God hath found and remembered the\niniquity of us thy servants, for we be all thy servants, yea, we and he\nat whom the cup was found. Joseph answered: God forbid that I should so\ndo, whosoever stole the cup shall be my servant, and go ye your way, for\nye shall be free and go to your father. Then Judah approached near him\nand spake with a hardy cheer to him and said: I beseech thee my lord to\nhear me thy servant that I may say to thine audience a word, and that\nthou wilt not be wroth to thy servant. Thou art next to Pharaoh; my\nlord, thou demandedst first of us thy servants: Have ye a father or\nbrother? And we answered to thee, my lord: Our father is an old man and\nwe have a brother a young child which was born to him in his old age,\nwhose brother of the same mother is dead, and he is an only son whom the\nfather loveth tenderly. Thou saidst to us thy servants: Bring him hither\nto me that I may see. We told to thee my lord for truth: our father may\nnot forego the child, if he forego him certainly he shall die. And thou\nsaidst to us, thy servants: But if ye bring him not with you, ye shall\nno more see my visage. Then when we came to our father and told him all\nthese things, and our father bade us to return and buy more corn. To\nwhom we said: We may not go thither but if our youngest brother go with\nus, for if he be absent we dare not approach, ne come to the presence of\nthe man; and he answered to us: Ye know well that my wife brought to me\nforth but two sons, that one went out, and ye said that wild beasts had\ndevoured him, and yet I heard never of him ne he appeared not. If now\nye should take this my son and anything happened to him in the way ye\nshould bring my hoar hair with sorrow to hell. Therefore if I should\ncome home to my father and bring not the child with me, sith the soul\nand health of my father dependeth of this child, and see that he is not\ncome with us, he shall die and we thy servants should lead his old age\nwith wailing and sorrow to hell. I myself shall be thy proper servant\nwhich have received him upon my faith and have promised for him, saying\nto my father: If I bring him not again I shall be guilty of the sin to\nmy father ever after. I shall abide and continue thy servant for the\nchild in the ministry and service of thee my lord. I may not depart, the\nchild being absent, lest I be witness of the sorrow that my father shall\ntake. Wherefore I beseech thee to suffer this child to go to his father\nand receive me into thy service. Thus said Judah, with much more; as\nJosephus, Antiquitatum, rehearseth more piteously, and saith moreover\nthat the cause why he did do hide the cup in Benjamin's sack, was to\nknow whether they loved Benjamin or hated him as they did him, what time\nthey sold him to the Ishmaelites.\n\nThen this request made, Joseph might no longer forbear, but commanded\nthem that stood by to withdraw them, and when all men were gone out sauf\nhe and his brethren, he began to say to them weeping: I am Joseph your\nbrother, liveth yet my father? The brethren were so afeard that they\ncould not speak ne answer to him. Then he debonairly said to them: Come\nhither to me; and when they came near him he said: I am Joseph your\nbrother that ye sold into Egypt; be ye not afeard nor think not hard\nunto you that ye sold me into these regions. God hath sent me tofore you\ninto Egypt for your health. It is two years since the famine began, and\nyet been five years to come in which men may not ear, sow, ne reap. God\nhath sent me tofore you that ye should be reserved on the earth, and\nthat ye may have meat to live by. It is not by your counsel that I was\nsent hither, but by the will of God, which hath ordained me father of\nPharaoh, and lord of all his house, and prince in all the land of Egypt.\nHie you, and go to my father, and say ye to him: This word sendeth thee\nthy son Joseph: God hath made me lord of the universal land of Egypt,\ncome to me lest thou die, and thou shalt dwell in the land of Goshen.\nThou shalt be next me, thou and thy sons and the sons of thy sons, and I\nshall feed thy sheep, thy beasts and all that thou hast in possession.\nYet rest five year to come of famine, therefore come lest thou perish,\nthy house, and all that thou owest. Lo! your eyes and the eyes of my\nbrother Benjamin see that my mouth speaketh these words to you. Show ye\nto my father all my glory and all that ye have seen in Egypt. Hie ye and\nbring him to me. This said, he embraced his brother Benjamin about his\nneck and wept upon each of them. After this they durst better speak to\nhim. Anon it was told and known all about in the King's hall that\nJoseph's brethren were come. And Pharaoh was joyful and glad thereof and\nall his household. And Pharaoh said to Joseph that he should say to his\nbrethren: Lade ye your beasts and go into the land of Canaan, and bring\nfrom thence your father and kindred, and come to me, and I shall give\nyou all the goods of Egypt, that ye may eat the marrow of the earth.\nCommand ye also that they take carriages of this land of Egypt, for the\ncarriage of their children and wives, and say to them: Take your father\nand come as soon as ye may, and leave nothing behind you, for all the\nbest things shall be yours. The sons of Israel did as they were\ncommanded. To whom Joseph gave carriages after the commandment of\nPharaoh, and meat to eat by the way. He commanded to give to every each\ntwo garments. To Benjamin he gave three hundred pieces of silver, with\nfive garments of the best, and also he sent clothing to his father,\nadding to them ten asses which were laden with all riches of Egypt, and\nas many asses laden and bearing bread and victual to spend by the way.\nAnd thus he let his brethren depart from him saying: Be ye not wroth in\nthe way. Then they thus departing came into the land of Canaan to their\nfather, and showed all this to their father, and said: Joseph thy son\nliveth and he lordeth in all the land of Egypt.\n\nWhen Jacob heard this he awoke as a man had been awaked suddenly out of\nhis sleep, yet nevertheless he believed them not, and they told to him\nall the order of the matter. When he saw the carriage and all that he\nhad sent, his spirit revived and said: It sufficeth to me if Joseph my\nson yet live, I shall go and see him ere I die. Then Israel went forth\nwith all that he had and came to the pit where tofore he had sworn to\nGod; and slew there beasts to make sacrifices to the God of Isaac his\nfather. He heard God by a vision that same night saying to him: Jacob,\nJacob, to whom he answered: I am here all ready. God said to him: I am\nstrongest God of thy father Isaac, dread thee not, but descend down into\nEgypt. I shall make thee to grow there into great people. I shall\ndescend with thee thither, and I shall bring thee again when thou\nreturnest. Joseph soothly shall put his hands upon thine eyes. Jacob\nthen arose on the morn early, and his sons took him with their children\nand wives and set them on the carriages that Pharaoh had sent to bring\nhim and all that he had into the land of Canaan. And so came into Egypt\nwith all his progeny, sons and children, etc.\n\nThese be the names of the sons of Israel that entered with him into\nEgypt. The first begotten Reuben with his children four. Simeon with his\nseven sons. Levi with his three sons. Judah and his sons three. Issachar\nand his four sons. Zebulon and his sons three. These were sons of Leah\nthat Jacob gat in Mesopotamia, and Dinah his daughter. All these sons\nand daughters were thirty-three. Gad also entered with his children\nseven. Asher with his children five and of his children's children two.\nThese were sons of Zilpah, in number sixteen. The sons of Rachel were\nJoseph and Benjamin. Joseph had two sons in the land of Egypt by his\nwife Asenath, Manasseh and Ephraim. The sons of Benjamin were ten. All\nthese children that came of Rachel were in number fourteen. Dan entered\nwith one son, and Naphtali with four sons. These were the children of\nBilhah; they were in number seven. All the souls that were issued of his\nseed that entered into Egypt with him, without the wives of his sons,\nwere sixty-six. The sons of Joseph that were born in Egypt twain. Summa\nof all the souls of the house of Jacob that entered into Egypt were in\nall seventy.\n\nJacob sent them tofore him Judah unto Joseph, to show to him his coming.\nAnd he came to Joseph in Goshen, and anon Joseph ascended his chariot\nand went for to meet his father, and when he saw him, he embraced him\nmeekly and wept. And his father received him joyously and embraced also\nhim. Then said the father to Joseph: Now shall I die joyously because I\nhave seen thy visage. Then said Joseph to his brethren and to all the\nhouse of his father: I shall go and ascend to Pharaoh and shall say to\nhim, that my brethren and the house of my father that were in the land\nof Canaan be come to me, and be men keeping sheep, and can the manner\nwell for to keep the flocks of sheep, and that they have brought with\nthem their beasts, and all that ever they had. When he shall call you\nand ask you of what occupation ye be, ye shall say: We be shepherds, thy\nservants, from our childhood unto now, and our fathers also. This shall\nye say that ye may dwell in the land of Goshen, for the Egyptians have\nspite unto herdmen of sheep. Then Joseph entered tofore Pharaoh and said\nto him: My father, my brethren, their sheep and beasts be come from the\nland of Canaan, and be in the land of Goshen. And he brought five of his\nbrethren tofore the king, whom he demanded of what occupation they were\nof. They answered: We be keepers of sheep, thy servants, we and our\nfathers, we be come to dwell in thy land, for there is no grass for the\nflocks of sheep of us thy servants, the famine is so great in the land\nof Canaan. We beseech thee that thou command us thy servants to dwell in\nthe land of Goshen. Then said the king to Joseph: Thy father and thy\nbrethren be come to thee, the land of Egypt is at thy commandment, make\nthou them to dwell in the best place, and deliver to them the land of\nGoshen. And if thou know them for conning, ordain they to be masters of\nmy beasts. After this Joseph brought his father in, and made him stand\ntofore the king which blessed him, and was demanded of the king how old\nhe was. He answered: The days of the pilgrimage of my life be an hundred\nand thirty years, small and evil, and yet I am not come unto the days of\nmy fathers that they have lived. And he blessed the king and went out.\nThen Joseph gave to his father and brethren possession in Egypt in the\nbest soil of Rameses like as Pharaoh had commanded, and there fed them,\ngiving to each of them victual.\n\nIn all the world was scarcity of bread, and hunger and famine oppressed\nspecially and most, the land of Egypt and the land of Canaan. Of which\nlands Joseph gat all the money for selling of wheat, and brought it into\nthe king's treasury. When all people lacked money, all Egypt came to\nJoseph saying: Give us bread, why die we to the lacking money. To whom\nhe answered: Bring to me your beasts and I shall give you for them\nvictuals, if ye have no money: which when they brought, he gave to them\nvictuals and food for horses, sheep, oxen and asses, and sustained them\none year for changing of their beasts. Then came they again the second\nyear and said: We hide not from thee our lord that our money is failed\nand also our beasts be gone, and there is nothing left but our bodies\nand our land. Why then shall we die in thy sight? And we ourselves and\nalso our land shall be thine, buy us into bondship and servitude of the\nking, and give us seed to sow lest the earth turn into wilderness. Then\nJoseph bought all the land of Egypt, every man selling his possessions\nfor the vehement hunger that they had. He subdued all unto Pharaoh, and\nall his people from the last terms of Egypt unto the utterest ends of\nthe same, except the land longing to the priests, which was given to\nthem by the king, to whom were given victuals openly out of all the\nbarns and garners, and therefore they were not compelled to sell their\npossessions. Then said Joseph to all the peoples: Lo, now ye see and\nknow that Pharaoh oweth and is in possession of you and of your land.\nTake to you seed and sow ye the fields that ye may have fruit. The fifth\npart thereof ye shall give to the king and four parts I promise to you\nto sow, and for meat to your servants and to your children. Which\nanswered: Our health is in thine hand, let our lord only behold us and\nwe shall gladly serve the king. From that time unto this present day, in\nall the land of Egypt the fifth part is paid to the king; and it is\nholden for a law, except the land longing to the priests which is free\nfrom this condition.\n\nThen Israel dwelled in Egypt in the land of Goshen, and was in\npossession thereof. He increased and multiplied greatly, and lived\ntherein seventeen years. And all the years of his life were an hundred\nand seven and forty years. When he understood that the day of his death\napproached, he called to him his son Joseph and said to him: If I may\nfind so much grace in thy sight, do to me so much mercy as thou promise\nand swear that thou bury me not in Egypt, but that I may rest with my\nfathers, and take and carry me from this land, and lay me in the\nsepulchre of my forefathers. To whom Joseph answered: I shall do that\nthou hast commanded. Then said he: Swear to me, and so he swore. And\nthen Israel adored and worshipped our Lord, and turned him toward his\nbed's head. Then this done, anon after it was told to Joseph that his\nfather was sick and feeble; who anon took his sons Manasseh and Ephraim\nand came to his father. Anon it was told to the father: Lo thy son\nJoseph cometh to thee, which then was comforted, and sat up in his bed.\nAnd Joseph entered in, and Jacob said: Almighty God appeared to me in\nLuz which is in the land of Canaan, and he blessed me and said: I shall\nincrease thee and multiply thee into tourbes of peoples, I shall give to\nthee this land and to thy seed after thee in sempiternal possession,\ntherefore thy two sons that be born to thee in this land of Egypt tofore\nI came hither to thee, shall be my sons Ephraim and Manasseh, they shall\nbe reputed to me as Simeon and Reuben. The other that thou shalt get\nafter them shall be thine, and shall be called in the name of their\nbrethren in their possessions. Then he, seeing Joseph's sons, said to\nhim: Who be these children? Joseph answered: They be my sons which God\nhath given to me in this place. Bring them hither, said he, to me that I\nmay bless them. Israel's eyes were dimmed and might not see clearly for\ngreat age. He took them to him and kissed them and said to Joseph: I am\nnot defrauded from the sight of thee, and furthermore God hath showed to\nme thy seed. Then when Joseph took them from his father's lap, he\nworshipped him kneeling low to the earth, and set Ephraim on his right\nside, and on the left side of Israel, and Manasseh on the right side of\nhis father Israel, which took his right hand and laid it on the head of\nEphraim the younger brother, and his left hand on the head of Manasseh\nwhich was first born. Then Jacob blessed the sons of Joseph and said:\nGod, in whose sight walked my fathers Abraham and Isaac, God that hath\nfed me from my youth unto this present day, the angel that hath kept me\nfrom all evil bless these children, and my name be called on them, and\nthe names of my fathers Abraham and Isaac, and grow they into multitude\nupon earth. Then Joseph seeing that his father set his right hand upon\nthe head of Ephraim the younger brother took it heavily, and took his\nfather's hand and would have laid it on the head of Manasseh, and said\nto his father; Nay father, it is not convenient, that ye do, this is the\nfirst begotten son, set thy right hand on his head. Which renied that\nand would not do so, but said: I wot, my son, I wot what I do, and this\nson shall increase into peoples and multiply, but his younger brother\nshall be greater than he, and his seed shall grow into gentiles, and\nblessed them, saying that same time: In thee shall be blessed Israel,\nand shall be said: God make thee like to Ephraim and Manasseh. And he\nsaid to Joseph his son: Lo! now I die and God shall be with you, and\nshall reduce and bring you again into the land of your fathers; and I\ngive to thee one part above thy brethren, which I gat and won from the\nhand of the Amorite with my sword and my bow. Then Jacob called his sons\ntofore him and said to them:\n\nGather ye altogether tofore me, that I may show to you things that be to\ncome, and hear your father Israel. And there he told to each of them his\ncondition singularly. And when he had blessed his twelve sons he\ncommanded them to bury him with his fathers in a double spelunke which\nis in the field of Ephron the Hittite against Mamre in the land of\nCanaan which Abraham bought. And this said he gathered to him his feet\nand died. Which anon as Joseph saw, he fell on his visage and kissed\nhim. He commanded to his masters of physic and medicines, which were his\nservants, that they should embalm the body of his father with sweet\nspices aromatic; which was all done, and then went they sorrowing him\nforty days. The Egyptians wailed him seventy days, and when the wailing\nwas past, Joseph did say to Pharaoh how he had sworn and promised to\nbury him in the land of Canaan. To whom Pharaoh said: Go and bury thy\nfather like as thou hast sworn. Which then took his father's body and\nwent, and with him were accompanied all the aged men of Pharaoh's house,\nand the noblest men of birth of all the land of Egypt, the house of\nJoseph with his brethren, without the young children, flocks and beasts,\nwhich they left in the land of Goshen. He had in his fellowship\nchariots, carts and horsemen, and was a great tourbe and company, and\ncame over Jordan where as they hallowed the exequies by great wailing\nseven days long. And when they of the country saw this plaint and\nsorrowing they said: This is a great sorrow to the Egyptians. And that\nsame place is named yet the bewailing of Egypt. The children of Israel\ndid as they were commanded, and bare him into the land of Canaan, and\nburied him in the double spelunke which Abraham had bought. Then when\nJacob the father was buried, Joseph with all his fellowship returned\ninto Egypt. Then his brethren after the death of their father spake\ntogether privily, and dreading that Joseph would avenge the wrong and\nevil that they had done to him, came to him and said: Thy father\ncommanded us ere he died that we should say thus to thee: We pray thee\nthat thou wilt forget, and not remember the sin and trespass of thy\nbrethren, ne the malice that they executed in thee. We beseech thee\nthat thou wilt forgive to thy father, servant of God, this wickedness.\nWhich when Joseph heard he wept bitterly, and his brethren came to him\nkneeling low to the ground and worshipped him, and said, We be thy\nservants. To whom he answered: Be ye nothing afeard ne dread you not,\nween ye that ye may resist God's will? Ye thought to have done to me\nevil, but God hath turned it into good, and hath exalted me as ye see\nand know, that he should save much people. Be ye nothing afeard, I shall\nfeed you and your children. And comforted them with fair words, and\nspake friendly and joyously to them. And he abode and dwelled still in\nEgypt with all the house of his father, and lived an hundred and ten\nyears, and saw the sons of Ephraim in to the third generation. After\nthese things he said to his brethren: After my death, God shall visit\nyou and shall do you depart from this land unto the land that he\npromised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. When that time shall come, take\nmy bones and lead them with you from this place, and then died. Whose\nbody was embalmed with sweet spices and aromatics and laid in a chest in\nEgypt.\n\n\n\n\nHERE NEXT FOLLOWETH THE HISTORY OF MOSES\n\n_Which is read in-the Church on Mid-lent Sunday_\n\n\nThese be the names of the children of Israel that entered into Egypt\nwith Jacob, and each entered with their household and meiny. Reuben,\nSimeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, Zebulon, Benjamin, Dan, Naphtali, Gad,\nand Asher; they were all in number that entered seventy. Joseph was\ntofore in Egypt. And when he was dead and all his brethren and kindred,\nthe children of Israel grew and multiplied greatly, and filled the\nearth. Then was there a new king upon Egypt which knew nothing of\nJoseph, and said to his people: Lo! and see the people of Israel is\ngreat, and stronger than we be, come and let us wisely oppress them,\nlest they multiply and give us battle and fight with us and drive us out\nof our land. Then he ordained provosts and masters over them to set them\nawork and put them to affliction of burdens. They builded to Pharaoh two\ntowns, Pithom and Raamses. How much more they oppressed them, so much\nthe more they increased and multiplied. The Egyptians hated the children\nof Israel and put them to affliction, scorning and having envy at them,\nand oppressed bitterly their life with hard work and sore labors of\ntile and clay, and grieved all them in such works. Then Pharaoh\ncommanded to his people saying: Whatsomever is born of males cast ye\ninto the river, and what of women keep ye them and let ye them live.\n\nAfter this was a man of the house of Levi went out and took a wife of\nhis kindred, which conceived and brought forth a son, and he saw him\nelegant and fair, and hid him three months, and when he might no longer\nhide him, took a little crib of rushes and wickers and pitched it with\nglue and pitch, and put therein the child, and set it on the river, and\nlet it drive down in the stream, and the sister of the child standing\nafar, considering what should fall thereof. And it happed that same\ntime, the daughter of king Pharaoh descended down to the river for to\nwash her in the water, and her maidens went by the brink, which then,\nwhen she saw the little crib or fiscelle she sent one of her maidens to\nfetch and take it up, which so fetched and brought to her, and she saw\ntherein lying a fair child; and she having pity on it said: This is one\nof the children of the Hebrews. To whom anon spake the sister of the\nchild: Wilt thou, said she, that I go and call thee a woman of the\nHebrews that shall and may nourish this child? She answered: Go thy way.\nThe maid went and called his mother, to whom Pharaoh's daughter said:\nTake this child and nourish him to me, and I shall give to thee thy meed\nand reward. The mother took her child and nourished it, and when it was\nweaned and could go she delivered it to the daughter of king Pharaoh,\nwhom she received and adopted instead of a son and named him Moses,\nsaying that I took him out of the water. And he there grew and waxed a\npretty child. And as Josephus, Antiquitatum, saith: This daughter of\nPharaoh, which was named Termuthe, loved well Moses and reputed him as\nher son by adoption, and on a day brought him to her father, who for his\nbeauty took him in his arms and made much of him, and set his diadem on\nhis head, wherein was his idol. And Moses anon took it, and cast it\nunder his feet and trod on it, wherefore the king was wroth, and\ndemanded of the great doctors and magicians what should fall of this\nchild. And they kalked on his nativity and said: This is he that shall\ndestroy thy reign and put it under foot, and shall rule and govern the\nHebrews. Wherefore the king anon decreed that he should be put to death.\nBut others said that Moses did it of childhood and ought not to die\ntherefore, and counselled to make thereof a proof, and so they did.\n\nThey set tofore him a platter full of coals burning, and a platter full\nof cherries, and bade him eat, and he took and put the hot coals in his\nmouth and burned his tongue, which letted his speech ever after; and\nthus he escaped the death. Josephus saith that when Pharaoh would have\nslain him, Termuthe, his daughter, plucked him away and saved him. Then\non a time as Moses was full grown, he went to his brethren, and saw the\naffliction of them, and a man of Egypt smiting one of the Hebrews, his\nbrethren. And he looked hither and thither and saw no man. He smote the\nEgyptian and slew him and hid him in the sand. And another day he went\nout and found two of the Hebrews brawling and fighting together; then he\nsaid to him that did wrong: Why smitest thou thy neighbor? which\nanswered: Who hath ordained thee prince and judge upon us? wilt thou\nslay me as thou slewest that other day an Egyptian? Moses was afeard and\nsaid to himself: How is this deed known and made open? Pharaoh heard\nhereof and sought Moses for to slay him, which then fled from his sight\nand dwelled in the land of Midian, and sat there by a pit side. The\npriest of Midian had seven daughters which came thither for to draw\nwater, and to fill the vessels for to give drink to the flocks of the\nsheep of their father. Then came on them the herdmen and put them from\nit. Then rose Moses and defended the maidens and let them water their\nsheep, which then returned to their father Jethro. And he said to them:\nWhy come ye now earlier than ye were wont to do? They said that a man of\nEgypt hath delivered us from the hand of the herdmen, and also he drew\nwater for us and gave to the sheep drink. Where is he, said he, why left\nye the man after you? go call him that he may eat some bread with us.\nThen Moses sware that he would dwell with him. And he took Zipporah one\nof his daughters aad wedded her to his wife, which conceived and bare\nhim a son whom he called Gershom, saying: I was a stranger in a strange\nland. She brought to him forth another son whom he named Eleazar,\nsaying: The God of my father is my helper and hath kept me from the\nhand of Pharaoh.\n\nLong time after this died the king of Egypt, and the children of Israel,\nwailing, made great sorrow for the oppression of their labor, and cried\nunto God for help. Their cry came unto God of their works, and God heard\ntheir wailing, and remembered the promise he made with Abraham, Isaac,\nand Jacob, and our Lord beheld the children of Israel and knew them.\n\nMoses fed the sheep of Jethro his wife's father. When he had brought the\nsheep into the innermost part of the desert he came unto the mount of\nGod, Oreb. Our Lord appeared to him in flame of fire in the midst of a\nbush, and he saw the fire in the bush, and the bush burned not. Then\nsaid Moses, I shall go and see this great vision why the bush burneth\nnot. Our Lord then beholding that he went for to see it, called him,\nbeing in the bush, and said: Moses, Moses, which answered: I am here.\nThen said our Lord: Approach no nearer hitherward. Take off thy shoon\nfrom thy feet, the place that thou standest on is holy ground. And said\nalso: I am God of thy fathers, God of Abraham, and God of Isaac, and God\nof Jacob. Moses then hid his face, and durst not look toward God. To\nwhom God said: I have seen the affliction of my people in Egypt, and I\nhave heard their cry of the hardness that they suffer in their works,\nand I knowing the sorrow of them am descended to deliver them from the\nhand of the Egyptians, and shall lead them from this land into a good\nland and spacious, into a land that floweth milk and honey, unto the\nplaces of Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites and\nJebusites. The cry of the children of Israel is come to me, I have seen\ntheir affliction, how they be oppressed of the Egyptians. But come to me\nand I shall send thee unto Pharaoh that thou shalt lead the children of\nIsrael out of Egypt. Then Moses said to him: Who am I that shall go to\nPharaoh and lead the children out of Egypt? To whom God said: I shall be\nwith thee, and this shall be the sign that I send thee. When thou shalt\nhave led out my people of Egypt, thou shalt offer to God upon this hill.\nMoses said unto God: Lo! if I go to the children of Israel and say to\nthem: God of your fathers hath sent me to you; if they say: What is his\nname? what shall I say? Our Lord said to Moses: I am that I am. He said:\nThus shalt thou say to the children of Israel: He that is, sent me to\nyou, and yet shalt thou say to them: The Lord God of your fathers, God\nof Abraham, God of Isaac, and God of Jacob, hath appeared to me saying:\nThis is my name for evermore, and this is my memorial from generation to\ngeneration. Go and gather together the seniors and aged men of Israel,\nand say to them: The Lord God of your fathers hath appeared to me, God\nof Abraham, God of Isaac, and God of Jacob, saying: Visiting I have\nvisited you, and have seen all that is fallen in Egypt, and I shall lead\nyou out of the affliction of Egypt into the land of Canaan, Ethei, etc.,\nunto the land flowing milk and honey, and they shall hear thy voice.\nThou shalt go and take with thee the seniors of Israel to the king of\nEgypt, and shalt say to him: The Lord God of the Hebrews hath called us;\nwe shall go the journey of three days in wilderness that we may offer to\nour Lord God. But I know well that the king of Egypt shall not suffer\nyou to go but by strong hand. I shall stretch out my hand and shall\nsmite Egypt in all my marvels that I shall do amid among them. After\nthat he shall let you go. I shall then give my grace to this people\ntofore the Egyptians, and when ye shall go out ye shall not depart void,\nnor with nought, but every woman shall borrow of her neighbor, and of\nher hostess, vessels of silver and of gold, and clothes, and them shall\nye lay on your sons, and on your daughters, and ye shall rob Egypt. Then\nMoses answered and said: They shall not believe me ne hear my voice, but\nshall say: God hath not appeared to thee.\n\nGod said then to him: What is that thou holdest in thine hand? He\nanswered: A rod. Our Lord said: Cast it on the ground. He threw it down\nand it turned into a serpent, whereof Moses was afeard and would have\nfled. Our Lord said to him: Put forth thy hand and hold him by the tail;\nhe stretched forth his hand and held him, and it turned again into a\nrod. To this, that they believe thee, that I have appeared to thee. And\nyet our Lord said to him: Put thy hand into thy bosom, which, when he\nhath put in, and drawn out again, it was like a leper's hand. Our Lord\nbade him to withdraw it into his bosom again, and he drew it out and it\nwas then like that other flesh. If they hear not thee, and believe by\nthe first sign and token, they shall believe thee by the second. If they\nbelieve none of the two ne hear thy voice, then take water of the river\nand pour on the dry ground, and whatsoever thou takest and drawest shall\nturn into blood. Then Moses said: I pray the Lord send some other, for I\nam not eloquent, but have a letting in my speech. Our Lord said to him:\nWho made the mouth of a man, or who hath made a man dumb or deaf, seeing\nor blind, not I? Go, therefore, I shall be in thy mouth and shall teach\nthee what thou shalt say. Then said Moses: I beseech thee Lord, said he,\nsend some other whom thou wilt. Our Lord was wroth on Moses and said:\nAaron thy brother deacon, I know that he is eloquent, lo! he shall come\nand meet with thee, and seeing thee he shall be glad in his heart. Speak\nthou to him and put my words in his mouth, and I shall be in thy mouth\nand in his mouth, and I shall show to you what ye ought to do, and he\nshall speak for the people, and shall be thy mouth, and thou shalt be in\nsuch things as pertain to God. Take with thee this rod in thine hand, by\nwhich thou shalt do signs and marvels. Then Moses went to Jethro his\nwife's father, and said to him, I shall go and return to my brethren\ninto Egypt, and see if they yet live. To whom Jethro said: Go in God's\nname and place. Then said our Lord to Moses: Go and return into Egypt,\nall they be now dead that sought for to slay thee. Then Moses took his\nwife and his sons and set them upon an ass and returned in to Egypt,\nbearing the rod of God in his hand. Then our Lord said to Aaron: Go\nagainst Moses and meet with him in desert; which went for to meet with\nhim unto the mount of God, and there kissed him.\n\nAnd Moses told unto Aaron all that our Lord had said to him for which he\nsent him, and all the tokens and signs that he bade him do. They came\nboth together and gathered and assembled all the seniors and aged men of\nthe children of Israel. And Aaron told to them all that God had said to\nMoses, and made the signs and tokens tofore the people and the people\nbelieved it. They heard well that our Lord had visited the children of\nIsrael, and that he had beholden the affliction of them, wherefore they\nfell down low to the ground and worshipped our Lord.\n\nAfter this Moses and Aaron went unto Pharaoh and said: This saith the\nLord God of Israel: Suffer my people to depart that they may sacrifice\nto me in desert. Then said Pharaoh: Who is that Lord that I may hear his\nvoice and leave Israel? I know not that Lord, nor I will not leave\nIsrael. They said to him: God of the Hebrews hath called us that we go\nthe journey of three days in the wilderness and sacrifice unto our Lord\nGod, lest peradventure pestilence or war fall to us. The king of Egypt\nsaid to them: Why solicit ye, Moses and Aaron, the people from their\nworks and labor? Go ye unto your work. Pharaoh also said: The people is\nmuch, see how they grow and multiply, and yet much more shall do if they\nrested from their labor. Therefore he commanded the same day to the\nprefects and masters of their works saying: In no wise give no more\nchaff to the people for to make loam and clay, but let them go and\ngather stubble, and make them do as much labor as they did tofore, and\nlessen it nothing. They do now but cry: Let us go and make sacrifice to\nour God, let them be oppressed by labor and exercised that they attend\nnot to leasings. Then the prefects and masters of their work said to\nthem that Pharaoh had commanded to give them no chaff, but they should\ngo and gather such as they might find, and that their work should not\ntherefore be minished. Then the children were disperpled for to gather\nchaff, and their masters awaited on them and bade them: Make an end of\nyour work as ye were wont to do when that chaff was delivered to you.\nAnd thus they were put to more affliction, and would make them to make\nas many tiles as they did tofore. Then the upperest of the children of\nIsrael came to Pharaoh and complained saying: Why puttest thou thy\nservants to such affliction? He said to them: Ye be so idle that ye say\nye will go and sacrifice to your God; ye shall have no chaff given to\nyou, yet ye shall work your customable work and gather your chaff also.\n\nThen the eldest and the upperest among the Hebrews went to Moses and\nAaron and said: What have ye done? ye have so done that ye have made our\nodor to stink in the sight of Pharaoh, and have encouraged him to slay\nus. Then Moses counselled with our Lord how he should do, and said:\nLord, why hast thou sent me hither? For, sith I have spoken to Pharaoh\nin thy name, he hath put thy people to more affliction than they had\ntofore, and thou hast not delivered them. Our Lord said to Moses: Now\nthou shalt see what I shall do to Pharaoh. By strong hand he shall let\nyou go, and in a boistous he shall cast you from his land.\n\nYet said our Lord to Moses: I am the Lord God that appeared to Abraham,\nIsaac, and Jacob in my might, and my name is Adonai, I showed to them\nnot that. I promised and made covenant with them that I should give to\nthem the land of Canaan in which they dwelled. I now have heard the\nwailing and the tribulations that the Egyptians oppress them with, for\nwhich I shall deliver and bring them from the servitude of the\nEgyptians. Moses told all these things to the children of Israel, and\nthey believed him not for the anguish of their spirits that they were\nin, and hard labor. Then said our Lord to Moses: Go and enter in to\nPharaoh and bid him deliver my people of Israel out of his land. Moses\nanswered: How should Pharaoh hear me when the children of Israel believe\nme not? Then our Lord said to Moses and Aaron that they both should go\nto Pharaoh and give him in commandment to let the children of Israel to\ndepart. And he said to Moses: Lo! I have ordained thee to be God of\nPharaoh, and Aaron thy brother shall be thy prophet. Thou shalt say to\nhim all that I say to thee, and he shall say to Pharaoh that he suffer\nthe children of Israel to depart from his land. But I shall enhard his\nheart, and shall multiply my signs and tokens in the land of Egypt, and\nhe shall not hear ne believe you. And I shall lead the children of\nIsrael my people. And shall show mine hand, and such wonders on Egypt,\nthat Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord. Moses and Aaron did as our\nLord commanded them. Moses was eighty years old when he came and stood\ntofore Pharaoh, and Aaron eighty-three years when they spake to Pharaoh.\nThen when they were tofore Pharaoh, Aaron cast the rod down, tofore\nPharaoh, and anon the rod turned into a serpent. Then Pharaoh called his\nmagicians and jugglers and bade them do the same. And they made their\nwitchcraft and invocations and cast down their rods, which turned in\nlikewise into serpents, but the rod of Aaron devoured their rods. Yet\nwas the heart of Pharaoh hard and so indurate that he would not do as\nGod bade. Then said our Lord to Moses: The heart of Pharaoh is grieved\nand will not deliver my people. Go to him to-morn in the morning and he\nshall come out, and thou shalt stand when he cometh on the bank of the\nriver, and take in thine hand the rod that was turned into the serpent,\nand say to him: The Lord God of the Hebrews sendeth me to thee saying:\nDeliver my people that they may offer and make sacrifice to me in\ndesert, yet thou hast no will to hear me. Therefore our Lord said: In\nthis shalt thou know that I am the Lord: Lo! I shall smite with the rod\nthat is in my hand the water of the flood, and it shall turn into blood;\nthe fishes that be in the water shall die, and the Egyptians shall be\nput to affliction drinking of it. Then said our Lord to Moses: Say thou\nto Aaron: Take this rod and stretch thine hand upon all the waters of\nEgypt, upon the floods, rivers, ponds, and upon all the lakes where any\nwater is, in that they turn to blood, that it may be a vengeance in all\nthe land of Egypt, as well in treen vessels as in vessels of earth and\nstone.\n\nMoses and Aaron did as God had commanded them, and smote the flood with\nthe rod tofore Pharaoh and his servants, which turned into blood, and\nthe fishes that were in the river died, and the water was corrupt. And\nthe Egyptians might not drink the water, and all the water of Egypt was\nturned into blood. And in likewise did the enchanters with their\nwitchcraft, and the heart of Pharaoh was so indurate that he would not\nlet the people depart as our Lord had commanded, but he returned home\nfor this time. The Egyptians went and dolven pits for water all about by\nthe river, and they found no water to drink but all was blood. And this\nplague endured seven days, and whatsomever water the children of Israel\ntook in this while was fair and good water. This was the first plague\nand vengeance. The second was that God sent frogs so many, that all the\nland was full, the rivers, the houses, chambers, beds, that they were\nwoebegone, and these frogs entered into their meat, so many that they\ncovered all the land of Egypt. Then Pharaoh prayed Moses and Aaron that\nGod would take away these frogs, and that he would go suffer the people\nto do sacrifice; and then Moses asked when he would deliver them if the\nfrogs were voided, and Pharaoh said: In the morn. And then Moses prayed,\nand they voided all. And when Pharaoh saw that he was quit of them, he\nkept not his promise and would not let them depart. The third vengeance\nthat God sent to them was a great multitude of hungry horse-flies, as\nmany as the dust of the earth, which were on men, and bit them and\nbeasts. And then enchanters said then to Pharaoh: This is the finger of\nGod. Yet would not Pharaoh let them depart. The fourth vengeance was\nthat God sent all manner kind of flies and lice in such wise that the\nuniversal land of Egypt was full of all manner flies and lice, but in\nthe land of Goshen were none. Yet was he so indurate that he would not\nlet them go, but would that they should make their sacrifice to God in\nthat land. But Moses would not so, but would go three days' journey in\ndesert, and sacrifice to God there. Pharaoh said: I will that ye go into\ndesert, but not far, and come soon again, and pray ye for me. And Moses\nprayed for him to our Lord, and the flies voided that there was not one\nleft. And when they were gone Pharaoh would not keep his promise. Then\nthe fifth plague was that God showed his hand upon the fields and upon\nthe horses, asses, camels, sheep and oxen, and was a great pestilence on\nall the beasts. And God showed a wonder miracle between the possessions\nof the Egyptians and the possessions of his people of Israel, for of the\nbeasts of the children of Israel there was not one that perished. Yet\nwas Pharaoh so hard-hearted that he would not suffer the people to\ndepart. The sixth plague was that Moses took ashes out of the chimney\nand cast on the land. And anon all the people of Egypt, as well men as\nbeasts, were full of blotches, boils, and blains and wounds, and\nswellings in such wise that the enchanters could ne might not stand for\npain tofore Pharaoh. Yet would not Pharaoh hear them, nor do as God had\ncommanded. The seventh plague was a hail so great that there was never\nnone like tofore, and thunder and fire that it destroyed all the grass\nand herbs of Egypt and smote down all that was in the field, men and\nbeasts. But in the land of Goshen was none heard ne harm done. Yet would\nnot Pharaoh deliver them. The eighth our Lord sent to them locusts,\nwhich is a manner great fly, called in some place an adder-bolte, which\nbit them and ate up all the corn and herbs that was left, in such wise\nthat the people came to Pharaoh and desired him to deliver, saying that\nthe land perished. Then Pharaoh gave to the men license to go and make\ntheir sacrifice, and leave their wives and children there still, till\nthey came again, but Moses and Aaron said they must go all, wherefore he\nwould not let them depart. The ninth plague and vengeance was that God\nsent so great darkness upon all the land of Egypt that the darkness was\nso great and horrible that they were palpable, and it endured three days\nand three nights. Wheresoever the children of Israel went it was light.\n\nThen Pharaoh called Moses and Aaron and said to them: Go ye and make\nyour sacrifice unto your Lord God, and let your sheep and beasts only\nabide. To whom Moses said: We shall take with us such hosties and\nsacrifices as we shall offer to our Lord God. All our flocks and beasts\nshall go with us, there shall not remain as much as a nail that shall be\nnecessary in the honor of our Lord God, for we know not what we shall\noffer till we come to the place. Pharaoh was so indurate and\nhard-hearted that he would not let them go, and bade Moses that he\nshould no more come in his sight. For when thou comest thou shalt die.\nMoses answered: Be it as thou hast said: I shall no more come to thy\npresence. And then our Lord said to Moses: There resteth now but one\nplague and vengeance, and after that he shall let you go. But first say\nto all the people that every man borrow of his friend, and woman of her\nneighbor, vessels of gold and silver, and clothes; our Lord shall give\nto his people grace and favor to borrow of the Egyptians; and then gave\nto them a commandment how they should depart. And our Lord said to\nMoses: At midnight I shall enter into Egypt and the first-begotten child\nand heir of all Egypt shall die, from the first-begotten son of Pharaoh\nthat sitteth in his throne unto the first-begotten son of the handmaid\nthat sitteth at the mill, and all the first-begotten of the beasts.\nThere shall be a great cry and clamor in all the land of Egypt in such\nwise that there was never none like, ne never shall be after, and among\nall the children there shall not an hound be hurt, ne woman, ne beast,\nwhereby ye shall know by what miracle God divideth the Egyptian and\nIsrael. Moses and Aaron showed all these signs and plagues tofore\nPharaoh, and his heart was so indurate that he would not let them\ndepart. Then when Moses had said to the children how they should do,\nthey departed, and ate their paschal lamb, and all other ceremonies as\nbe expressed in the Bible, for a law to endure ever among them, which\nthe children of Israel obeyed and accomplished, it was so that at\nmidnight our Lord smote and slew every first-begotten son throughout all\nthe land of Egypt, beginning at the first son and heir of Pharaoh unto\nthe son of the caitiff that lay in prison, and also the first-begotten\nof the beasts. Pharaoh arose in the night and all his servants and all\nEgypt, and there was a great clamor and sorrowful noise and cry, for\nthere was not a house in all Egypt but there lay therein one that was\ndead. Then Pharaoh did do call Moses and Aaron in the night, and said:\nArise ye and go your way from my people, ye and the children of Israel,\nas ye say ye will, take your sheep and beasts with you like as ye\ndesired, and at your departing bless ye me. The Egyptians constrained\nthe children to depart and go their way hastily, saying: We all shall\ndie. The children of Israel took their meal, and put it on their\nshoulders as they were commanded, and borrowed vessels of silver and of\ngold, and much clothing. Our Lord gave to them such favor tofore the\nEgyptians that the Egyptians lent to them all that they desired, and\nthey spoiled and robbed Egypt.\n\nAnd so the children of Israel departed, nigh the number of six hundred\nthousand footmen, besides women and children which were innumerable, and\nan huge great multitude of beasts of divers kinds. The time that the\nchildren of Israel had dwelt in Egypt was four hundred years. And so\nthey departed out of Egypt, and went not the right way by the\nPhilistines, but our Lord led them by the way of desert which is by the\nRed Sea. And the children descended out of Egypt armed. Moses took with\nhim the bones of Joseph for he charged them so to do when he died. They\nwent in the extreme ends of the wilderness, and our Lord went tofore\nthem by day in a column of a cloud, and by night in a column of fire and\nwas their leader and duke; the pillar of the cloud failed never by day,\nnor the pillar of fire by night tofore the people. Our Lord said to\nMoses, I shall make his heart so hard that he shall follow and pursue\nyou, and I shall be glorified in Pharaoh, and in all his host, the\nEgyptians shall know that I am Lord. And anon it was told to Pharaoh\nthat the children of Israel fled, and anon his heart was changed, and\nalso the heart of his servants, and said: What shall we do, shall we\nsuffer the children to depart and no more to serve us? Forthwith he took\nhis chariot and all his people with him. He took with him six hundred\nchosen chariots, and all the chariots and wains of Egypt, and the dukes\nof all his hosts and he pursued the children of Israel and followed them\nin great pride. And when he approached, that the children of Israel saw\nhim come, they were sore afraid and cried to our Lord God, and said to\nMoses: Was there not sepulchre enough for us in Egypt but that we must\nnow die in wilderness? Said we not to thee: Go from us and let us serve\nthe Egyptians: It had been much better for us to have served the\nEgyptians than to die here in wilderness. And Moses said to the people:\nBe ye not afraid, stand and see ye the great wonders that our Lord shall\ndo for you this day. The Egyptians that ye now see, ye shall never see\nthem after this day. God shall fight for you, and be ye still. Our Lord\nsaid then to Moses: What criest thou to me? Say to the children of\nIsrael that they go forth. Take thou and raise the rod, and stretch thy\nhand upon the sea, and depart it that the children of Israel may go dry\nthrough the middle of it. I shall so indurate the heart of Pharaoh that\nhe shall follow you, and all the Egyptians, and I shall be glorified in\nPharaoh, and in all his host, his carts and horsemen. And the Egyptians\nshall know that I am Lord when I shall so be glorified. The angel of God\nwent tofore the castles of Israel, and another came after in the cloud\nwhich stood between them of Egypt and the children of Israel. And the\ncloud was dark that the host of Israel might not come to them of all the\nnight. Then Moses stretched his hand upon the sea, and there came a wind\nblowing in such wise that it waxed dry, and the children of Israel went\nin through the midst of the Red Sea all dry foot; for the water stood up\nas a wall on the right side and on the left side. The Egyptians then\npursuing them followed and entered after them, and all the carts,\nchariots and horsemen, through the middle of the sea. And then our Lord\nbeheld that the children of Israel were passed over and were on the dry\nland, on that other side. Anon turned the water on them, and the wheels\non their carts turned up so down, and drowned all the host of Pharaoh,\nand sank down into the deep of the sea. Then said the Egyptians: Let us\nflee Israel; the Lord fighteth for them against us. And our Lord said to\nMoses: Stretch out thine hand upon the sea, and let the water return\nupon the Egyptians, and upon their chariots and horsemen. And so Moses\nstretched out his hand and the sea returned in to his first place. And\nthen the Egyptians would have fled, but the water came and overflowed\nthem in the midst of the flood, and it covered the chariots and\nhorsemen, and all the host of Pharaoh, and there was not one saved of\nthem. And the children of Israel had passed through the middle of the\ndry sea and came a-land.\n\nThus delivered our Lord the children of Israel from the hand of the\nEgyptians, and they saw the Egyptians lying dead upon the brinks of the\nsea. And the people then dreaded our Lord and believed in him, and to\nMoses his servant. Then Moses and the children of Israel sang this song\nto our Lord: Cantemus domino magnificatus est, Let us sing to our Lord,\nhe is magnified, he hath overthrown the horsemen and carmen in the sea.\nAnd Miriam the sister of Aaron, a prophetess, took a timpane in her\nhand, and all the women followed her with timpanes and chords, and she\nwent tofore singing Cantemus domino. Then Moses brought the children of\nIsrael from the sea into the desert of Sur, and walked with them three\ndays and three nights and found no water, and came into Marah, and the\nwaters there were so bitter that they might not drink thereof. Then the\npeople grudged against Moses, saying: What shall we drink? And he cried\nunto our Lord which showed to him a tree which he took and put into the\nwaters, and anon they were turned into sweetness. There our Lord\nordained commandments and judgments, and there he tempted him saying: If\nthou hearest the voice of thy Lord-God, and that thou do is rightful\nbefore him, and obeyest his commandments, and keep his precepts, I shall\nnot bring none of the languors ne sorrows upon thee that I did in Egypt.\nI am Lord thy saviour. Then the children of Israel came in to Elim,\nwhere as were twelve fountains of water, and seventy palm trees, and\nthey abode by the waters. Then from thence went all the multitude of the\nchildren of Israel into the desert of Sin, which is between Elim and\nSinai, and grudged against Moses and Aaron in that wilderness, and said:\nWould God we had dwelled still in Egypt, whereas we sat and had plenty\nof bread and flesh; why have ye brought us into the desert for to slay\nall this multitude by hunger? Our Lord said then to Moses: I shall rain\nbread to you from heaven, let the people go out and gather every day\nthat I may prove them whether they walk in my law or not; the sixth day\nlet them gather double as much as they gather in one day of the other.\nThen said Moses and Aaron to all the children of Israel: At even ye\nshall know that God hath brought you from the land of Egypt, and to-morn\nye shall see the glory of our Lord. I have well heard your murmur\nagainst our Lord, what have ye mused against us? what be we? and yet\nsaid Moses; Our Lord shall give you at even flesh for to eat and to-morn\nbread unto your fill, for as much as ye have murmured against him; what\nbe we? Your murmur is not against us but against our Lord. As Aaron\nspake to all the company of the children of Israel they beheld toward\nthe wilderness, and our Lord spake to Moses in a cloud and said: I have\nheard the grudgings of the children of Israel; say to them: At even ye\nshall eat flesh and to-morn ye shall be filled with bread, and ye shall\nknow that I am your Lord God. And when the even was come there came so\nmany curlews that it covered all their lodgings, and on the morn there\nlay like dew all about in their circuit. Which when they saw and came\nfor to gather, it was small and white like to coriander. And they\nwondered on it and said: Mahun, that is as much to say, what is this? To\nwhom Moses said: This is the bread that God hath sent you to eat, and\nGod commandeth that every man should gather as much for every head as is\nthe measure of gomor, and let nothing be left till on the morn. And the\nsixth day gather ye double so much, that is two measures of gomor, and\nkeep that one measure for the Sabbath, which God hath sanctified and\ncommanded you to hallow it. Yet some of them brake God's commandment,\nand gathered more than they ate and kept it till on the morn, and then\nit began to putrify and be full of worms. And that they kept for the\nSabbath day was good and putrified not. And thus our Lord fed the\nchildren of Israel forty years in the desert. And it was called Manna.\nMoses took one gomor thereof and put it in the tabernacle for to be kept\nfor a perpetual memory and remembrance.\n\nThen went they forth all the multitude of the children of Israel, in the\ndesert of Sin in their mansions and came, to Rephidim, where as they had\nno water. Then all grudging they said to Moses, Give us water for to\ndrink. To whom Moses answered: What grudge ye against me, why tempt ye\nour Lord? The people thirsted sore for lack and penury of water saying:\nWhy hast thou brought us out of Egypt for to slay us and our children\nand beasts? Then Moses cried unto our Lord saying: What shall I do to\nthis people? I trow within a while they shall stone me to death. Then\nour Lord said to Moses: Go before the people and take with thee the\nolder men and seniors of Israel, and take the rod that thou smotest with\nthe flood in thy hand, and I shall stand tofore upon the stone of Oreb,\nand smite thou the stone with the rod and the waters shall come out\nthereof that the people may drink. Moses did so tofore the seniors of\nIsrael and called that place Temptation, because of the grudge of the\nchildren of Israel, and said: Is God with us or not? Then came Amalek\nand fought against the children of Israel in Rephidim. Moses said then\nto Joshua: Choose to thee men, and go out and fight against Amalek\nto-morrow. I shall stand on the top of the hill having the rod of God in\nmy hand: Joshua did as Moses commanded him, and fought against Amalek.\nMoses, Aaron, and Hur ascended into the hill, and when Moses held up\nhis hands, Israel won and overcame their enemies, and when he laid them\ndown then Amalek had the better. The hands of Moses were heavy; Aaron\nand Hur took then a stone and put it under them, and they sustained his\nhands on either side, and so his hands were not weary until the going\ndown of the sun. And so Joshua made Amalek to flee, and his people, by\nstrength of his sword. Our Lord said to Moses: Write this for a\nremembrance in a book and deliver it to the ears of Joshua; I shall\ndestroy and put away the memory of Amalek under heaven. Moses then\nedified an altar unto our Lord, and called there on the name of our\nLord, saying: The Lord is mine exaltation, for this is the hand only of\nGod, and the battle and God shall be against Amalek from generation to\ngeneration.\n\nWhen Jethro the priest of Midian, which was cousin of Moses, heard say\nwhat our Lord had done to Moses and to the children of Israel his\npeople, he took Zipporah the wife of Moses, and his two sons, Gershom\nand Eleazar and came with them to him into desert, whom Moses received\nwith worship and kissed him. And when they were together Moses told him\nall what our Lord had done to Pharaoh and to the Egyptians for Israel,\nand all the labor that they endured and how our Lord had delivered them.\nJethro was glad for all these things, that God had so saved them from\nthe hands of the Egyptians and said: Blessed be the Lord that hath\ndelivered you from the hand of the Egyptians and of Pharaoh, and hath\nsaved his people; now I know that he is a great Lord above all gods,\nbecause they did so proudly against them. And Jethro offered sacrifices\nand offerings to our Lord. Aaron and all the seniors of Israel came and\neat with him tofore our Lord. The next day Moses sat and judged and\ndeemed the people from morning unto evening, which, when his cousin saw,\nhe said to him: What doest thou? Why sittest thou alone and all the\npeople tarry from the morning until evening? To whom Moses answered: The\npeople came to me demanding sentence and the doom of God; when there is\nany debate or difference among them they come to me to judge them, and\nto show to them the precepts and the laws of God. Then said Jethro: Thou\ndost not well nor wisely, for by folly thou consumest thy self, and the\npeople with thee; thou dost above thy might, thou mayst not alone\nsustain it, but hear me and do there after, and our Lord shall be with\nthee. Be thou unto the people in those things that appertain to God,\nthat thou tell to them what they should do, and the ceremonies and rites\nto worship God, and the way by which they should go, and what work they\nshall do. Provide of all people wise men and dreading God, in whom is\ntruth, and them that hate avarice and covetise, and ordain of them\ntribunes and centurions and deans that may in all times judge the\npeople. And if there be of a great charge and weight, let it be referred\nto thee, and let them judge the small things; it shall be the easier to\nthee to bear the charge when it is so parted. If thou do so, thou shalt\nfulfil the commandment of God, and sustain his precepts, and the people\nshall go home to their places in peace. Which things when Moses had\nheard and understood, he did all that he had counselled him, and chose\nout the strongest and wisest people of all Israel and ordained them\nprinces of the people, tribunes, centurions, quinquagenaries, and deans,\nwhich at all times should judge and deem the people. And all the great\nand weighty matters they referred to him, deeming and judging the small\ncauses. And then his cousin departed and went into his country.\n\nThe third month after the children of Israel departed out of Egypt, that\nsame day they came into the wilderness of Sinai, and there about the\nregion of the mount they fixed their tents. Moses ascended into the hill\nunto God. God called him on the hill and said: This shalt thou say to\nthe house of Jacob and to the children of Israel. Ye yourselves have\nseen what I have done to the Egyptians, and how I have borne you on the\nwings of eagles and have taken you to me. If ye therefore hear my voice\nand keep my covenant, ye shall be to me in the reign of priesthood and\nholy people. These be the words that thou shalt say to the children of\nIsrael. Moses came down and gathered all the most of birth, and\nexpounded in them all the words that our Lord had commanded him. All the\npeople answered: All that ever our Lord hath said we shall do,\n\nWhen Moses had showed the people the words of our Lord, our Lord said to\nhim: Now I shall come to thee in a cloud that the people may hear me\nspeaking to thee, that they believe thee ever after. Moses went and told\nthis to the people, and our Lord bade them to sanctify the people this\nday and to-morrow, and let them wash their clothes, and be ready the\nthird day. The third day our Lord shall descend tofore all the people on\nthe mount of Sinai. And ordain to the people the marks and terms in the\ncircuit. And say to them: Beware that ye ascend not on the hill ne touch\nthe ends of it. Whosoever touched the hill shall die by death, there\nshall no hand touch him, but with stones he shall be oppressed and with\ncasting of them on him he shall be tolben; whether it be man or beast,\nhe shall not live. When thou hearest the trump blown then ascend to the\nhill. Moses went down to the people and sanctified and hallowed them,\nand when they had washen their clothes he said to them: Be ye ready at\nthe third day and approach not your wives; When the third day came, and\nthe morning waxed clear, they heard thunder and lightning and saw a\ngreat cloud cover the mount, and the cry of the trump was so shrill that\nthe people were sore afraid. When Moses had brought them forth unto the\nroot of the hill they stood there. All the mount of Sinai smoked, for so\nmuch as our Lord descended on it in fire, and the smoke ascended from\nthe hill as it had been from a furnace. The mount was terrible and\ndreadful, and the sound of the trump grew a little more and continued\nlonger. Moses spake and our Lord answered him. Our Lord descended upon\nthe top of the mount of Sinai, even on the top of it, and called Moses\nto him, which when he came said to him: Go down and charge the people\nthat they come not to the terms of the hill for to see the Lord, for if\nthey do, much multitude shall perish of them. The priests that shall\ncome let them be sanctified lest they be smitten down. And thou and\nAaron shall ascend the hill. All the people and priests let them not\npass their bounds lest God smite them. Then Moses descended and told to\nthe people all that our Lord hath said. After this our Lord called Moses\nand said: I am the Lord God that brought you out of Egypt and of\nthraldom. And gave him the Commandment first by speaking and many\nceremonies as be rehearsed in the Bible, which is not requisite to be\nwritten here, but the ten commandments every man is bounden to know. And\nere Moses received them written, he went up into the mount of Sinai, and\nfasted there forty days and forty nights ere he received them. In which\ntime he commanded him to make many things, and to ordain the laws and\nceremonies which now be not had in the new law. And also as doctors say,\nMoses learned that time all the histories tofore written of the making\nof heaven and earth, of Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and of Joseph\nwith his brethren. And at last delivered to him two tables of stone,\nboth written with the hand of God, which follow.\n\n\nThe first commandment that God commanded is this. Thou shalt not worship\nno strange ne diverse gods.\n\nThe second commandment is this, that thou shalt not take the name of\nGod in vain, that is to say, thou shalt not swear by him for nothing.\n\nThe third commandment is that thou have mind and remember that thou\nhallow and keep holy thy Sabbath day or Sunday. These three commandments\nbe written in the first table and appertain only to God.\n\nThe fourth commandment is that thou shalt honor and worship thy father\nand mother, for thou shalt live the longer on earth.\n\nThe fifth commandment is that thou shalt slay no man.\n\nThe sixth commandment is, thou shalt not do adultery.\n\nThe seventh commandment is that thou shalt do no theft.\n\nThe eighth commandment is that thou shalt not bear false witness against\nthy neighbor.\n\nThe ninth commandment is that thou shalt not desire the wife of thy\nneighbor, nor shalt not covet her in thine heart.\n\nThe tenth commandment is that thou shalt not covet nothing that is, or\nlongeth to, thy neighbor.\n\n\nThese be the ten commandments of our Lord, of which the three first\nbelong to God, and the seven other be ordained for our neighbors. Every\nperson that hath wit and understanding in himself, and age, is bound to\nknow them and to obey and keep these ten commandments aforesaid or else\nhe sinneth deadly.\n\nThus Moses abode in the hill forty days and forty nights and received\nof Almighty God the tables with the commandments written with the hand\nof God; and also received and learned many ceremonies and statutes that\nGod ordained, by which the children of Israel should be ruled and\njudged. And whiles that Moses was thus with our Lord on the mount, the\nchildren of Israel saw that he tarried and descended not, and some of\nthem said that he was dead or gone away, and would not return again, and\nsome said nay; but in conclusion they gathered them together against\nAaron, and said to him: Make to us some gods that may go tofore us, we\nknow not what is befallen to Moses. Then Aaron said: Take the gold that\nhangeth in the ears of your wives and your children, and bring it to me.\nThe people did as he bade, and brought the gold to Aaron, which he took\nand molt it and made thereof a calf. Then they said: These be thy gods,\nIsrael, that brought thee out of the land of Egypt. Then the people made\nan altar tofore it, and made great joy and mirth, and danced and played\ntofore the calf, and offered and made sacrifices thereto. Our Lord spake\nto Moses, saying: Go hence and descend down, thy people have sinned whom\nthou hast brought forth from the land of Egypt. They have soon forsaken\nand left the way which thou hast showed to them. They have made to them\na calf blown, and they have worshipped it, and offered sacrifices\nthereto, saying: These be thy gods, Israel, that have brought thee out\nof the land of Egypt, Yet said our Lord to Moses: I see well that this\npeople is of evil disposition, suffer me that I may wreak my wrath on\nthem, and I shall destroy them. I shall make thee governor of great\npeople.\n\nMoses then prayed our Lord God saying: Why art thou wroth, Lord, against\nthy people that thou hast brought out of the land of Egypt in a great\nstrength and a boisterous hand? I beseech thee, Lord, let not the\nEgyptians say that their God hath locked them out for to slay them in\nthe mountains. I pray thee Lord that thy wrath may assuage, and be thou\npleased and benign upon the wickedness of thy people. Remember Abraham,\nIsaac, and Jacob thy servants, to whom thou promisedst and swaredst by\nthyself saying: I shall multiply your seed as the stars of heaven, and\nthe universal, land of which I have spoken I shall give to your seed,\nand ye shall possess and have it ever. And with these words our Lord was\npleased that he would do no harm as he had said unto his people; and\nMoses returned from the mount, bearing two tables of stone, written both\nwith the hand of God. And the scripture that was in the tables were the\nten commandments as fore be written. Joshua hearing the great noise of\nthe children of Israel said to Moses: I trow they fight beneath, which\nanswered and said: It is no cry of exhorting men to fight, ne noise to\ncompel me to flee, but I hear the noise of singing. When he approached\nto them he saw the calf and the instruments of mirth, and he was so\nwroth that he threw down the tables and brake them at the foot of the\nhill, and ran and caught down the calf that they had made, and burnt\nand smote it all to powder, which he cast into water and gave it to\ndrink to the children of Israel. Then said Moses to Aaron: What hath\nthis people done to thee that thou hast made to sin grievously? To whom\nhe answered: Let not my lord take none indignation at me, thou knowest\nwell that this people is prone and ready to sin. They said to me: Make\nus gods that may go tofore us; we know not what is fallen to this Moses\nthat led us out of Egypt. To whom I said: Who of you that hath gold give\nit me; they took and gave it to me, and I cast it into the fire, and\nthereof came out this calf. And then said Moses: All they that be of\nGod's part and have not sinned in this calf let them join to me; and the\nchildren of Levi joined to him, and he bade each man take a sword on his\nside and take vengeance and slay every each his brother, friend, and his\nneighbor that have trespassed. And so the children of Levi went and slew\nthirty-three thousand of the children of Israel. And then said Moses: Ye\nhave hallowed this day your hands unto our Lord, and ye shall be\ntherefore blessed. The second day Moses spake to the people and said: Ye\nhave committed and done the greatest sin that may be. I shall ascend\nunto our Lord again, and shall pray him for your sin. Then Moses\nascended again, and received afterward two tables again, which our Lord\nbade him make. And therein our Lord wrote the commandments. And after,\nour Lord commanded him to make an ark and a tabernacle: in which ark was\nkept three things. First the rod with which he did marvels, a pot full\nof manna, and the two tables with commandments. And then after Moses\ntaught them the law; how each man should behave him against other and\nwhat he should do, and what he should not do, and departed them into\ntwelve tribes, and commanded that every man should bring a rod into the\nTabernacle. And Moses wrote each name on the rod, and Moses shut fast\nthe tabernacle. And on the morn there was found one of the rods that\nburgeoned and bare leaves and fruit, and was of an almond tree. That rod\nfell to Aaron.\n\nAnd after this, long time, the children desired to eat flesh and\nremembered of the flesh that they ate in Egypt, and grudged against\nMoses, and would have ordained to them a duke for to have returned into\nEgypt. Wherefore Moses was so woe that he desired of our Lord to deliver\nhim from this life, because he saw them so unkind against God. Then God\nsent to them so great plenty of curlews that two days and one night they\nflew so thick by the ground that they took great number, for they flew\nbut the height of two cubits. And they had so many that they dried them\nhanging on their tabernacles and tents. Yet were they not content, but\never grudging, wherefore God smote them and took vengeance on them by a\ngreat plague and many died and were buried there. And then from thence\nthey went into Hazeroth and dwelt. After this Miriam and Aaron, brother\nand sister of Moses, began to speak against Moses, because of his wife\nwhich was of Ethiopia, and said: God hath not spoken only by Moses,\nhath he not also spoken to us? Wherefore our Lord was wroth. Moses was\nthe humblest and the meekest man that was in all the world. Anon then,\nour Lord said to him, and to Aaron and to Miriam: Go ye three only unto\nthe tabernacle; and there our Lord said that there was none like to\nMoses, to whom he had spoken mouth to mouth, and reproved Aaron and\nMiriam because they spake so to Moses, and being wroth, departed from\nthem, and anon, Miriam was smitten and made leper and white like snow.\nAnd when Aaron beheld her and saw her smitten with leprosy, he said to\nMoses: I beseech the Lord that thou set not the sin on us which we have\ncommitted follily, and let not this our sister be as a dead woman, or as\nborn out of time and cast away from her mother, behold and see, half her\nflesh is devoured of the leprosy. Then Moses cried unto our Lord,\nsaying: I beseech thee Lord that thou heal her; to whom our Lord said:\nIf her father had spit in her face should she not be put to shame and\nrebuke seven days? Let her depart out of the castles seven days, and\nafter she shall be called in again. So Miriam was shut out of the\ncastles seven days, and the people removed not from the place till she\nwas called again.\n\nAfter this our Lord commanded Moses to send men into the land of Canaan\nthat he should give them charge for to see and consider the goodness\nthereof, and that of every tribe he should send some. Moses did as our\nLord had commanded, which went in and brought of the fruits with them,\nand they brought a branch with one cluster of grapes as much as two men\nmight bear between them upon a colestaff. When they had seen the country\nand considered by the space of forty days they returned and told the\ncommodities of the land, but some said that the people were strong, and\nmany kings and giants, in such wise that they said it was impregnable\nand that the people were much stronger than they were. Wherefore the\npeople anon were afeard, and murmured against Moses and would return\nagain into Egypt. Then Joshua and Caleb, which were two of them that had\nconsidered the land, said to the people: Why grudge ye and wherefore be\nye afraid? We have well seen the country, and it is good to win. The\ncountry floweth full of milk and honey, be not rebel against God, he\nshall give it us, be ye not afeard. Then all the people cried against\nthem, and when they would have taken stones and stoned them, our Lord in\nhis glory appeared in a cloud upon the covering of the tabernacle, and\nsaid to Moses: This people believeth not the signs and wonders that I\nhave showed and done to them. I shall destroy them all by pestilence,\nand I shall make thee a prince upon people greater and stronger than\nthis is. Then prayed Moses to our Lord for the people, that he would\nhave pity on them and not destroy them, but to have mercy on them after\nthe magnitude of his mercy. And our Lord at his request forgave them.\nNevertheless our Lord said that all the men that had seen his majesty,\nand the signs and marvels that he did in Egypt, and in desert, and have\ntempted him ten times, and not obeyed unto his voice, shall not see ne\ncome into the country and land that I have promised to their fathers,\nbut Joshua and Caleb, my servants, shall enter into the land, and their\nseed shall possess it. Moses told all this unto the children and they\nwailed and sorrowed greatly therefore.\n\nAfter this the people removed from thence and came into the desert of\nSin; and then Miriam, sister of Moses and Aaron, died, and was buried in\nthe same place. Then the people lacked water and came and grudged\nagainst Moses, and yet wished they had abided in Egypt. Then Moses and\nAaron entered into the Tabernacle and fell down to the ground low, and\nprayed unto our Lord, saying: Lord God, hear the clamor of thy people,\nand open to them thy treasure, a fountain of living water, that they may\ndrink and the murmuration of them may cease. Our Lord said to him then:\nTake the rod in thy hand, and thou and Aaron thy brother, assemble and\ngather the people and speak ye to the stone, and it shall give out\nwater. And when the water cometh let all the multitude drink and their\nbeasts. Moses then took the rod as our Lord bade, and gathered all the\npeople tofore the stone and said to them: Hear ye rebels and out of\nbelief; trow ye not that we may give you water out of this stone? And he\nlift up his hand and smote between the stone, and water came and flowed\nout in the most largest wise, in such wise that the people and beasts\ndrank their fill. Then said God to Moses and Aaron: Because ye have not\nbelieved me and sanctified my name tofore the children of Israel, and\ngiven to me the laud, but have done this in your name, ye shall not\nbring this people into the land that I shall give to them. And therefore\nthis water was called the water of contradiction, where the children\ngrudged against God.\n\nAnon after this, by God's commandment, Moses took Aaron upon the hill,\nand despoiled him of his vesture, and clothed therewith his son Eleazar,\nand made him upperest bishop for his father Aaron. And there Aaron died\nin the top of the hill, and Moses descended with Eleazar. And when all\nthe multitude of people saw that Aaron was dead, they wept and wailed on\nhim thirty days in every tribe and family.\n\nAfter this the people went about the land of Edom, and began to wax\nweary, and grudged against our Lord and Moses, and said yet: Why hast\nthou led us out of the Land of Egypt for to slay us in this desert and\nwilderness? Bread faileth us, there is no water, and our souls abhor and\nloathe this light meat. For which cause God sent among them\nfiery-serpents, which bit and wounded many of them and slew also. Then\nthey that were hurt came in to Moses and said: We have sinned, for we\nhave spoken against our Lord and thee; pray for us unto God that he\ndeliver from us these serpents. Then Moses prayed our Lord for the\npeople. And our Lord said to him: Make a serpent of brass and set it up\nfor a sign, and whosomever be hurt, and looketh thereon and beholdeth\nit, shall live and be whole. Then Moses made a serpent of brass, and set\nit up for a sign, and when they that were hurt beheld it they were made\nwhole.\n\nAfter this when Moses had showed to them all the laws of our Lord, and\nceremonies, and had governed them forty years, and that he was an\nhundred and twenty years old, he ascended from the fields of Moab upon\nthe mountain of Nebo into the top of Pisgah against Jericho, and there\nour Lord showed to him all the land of Gilead unto Dan, and the land of\npromise from that one end unto that other. And then our Lord said to\nhim: This is the land that I promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,\nsaying: I shall give it to thy seed. Now thou hast seen it with thine\neyes, and shalt not enter ne come therein. And there in that place died\nMoses, servant of our Lord, as God commanded, and was buried in the vale\nof the land of Moab against Beth-peor. And yet never man knew his\nsepulchre unto this day. Moses was an hundred and twenty years old when\nhe died, his eyes never dimmed, ne his teeth were never moved. The\nchildren of Israel wept and mourned for him thirty days in the fields of\nMoab. Joshua the son of Nun was replenished with the spirit of wisdom;\nfor Moses set on him his hands, and the children obeyed him as our Lord\nhad commanded to Moses. And there was never after a prophet in Israel\nlike unto Moses, which knew and spake to God face to face in all signs\nand tokens that God did and showed by him in the land of Egypt to\nPharaoh and all his servants.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BURIAL OF MOSES\n\n\nBy Nebo's lonely mountain,\n  On this side Jordan's wave,\nIn a vale in the land of Moab\n  There lies a lonely grave.\nAnd no man knows that sepulchre,\n  And no man saw it e'er,\nFor the angels of God upturned the sod,\n  And laid the dead man there.\n\nThat was the grandest funeral\n  That ever passed on earth;\nBut no man heard the trampling,\n  Or saw the train go forth--\nNoiselessly as the daylight\n  Comes back when night is done,\nAnd the crimson streak on ocean's cheek\n  Grows into the great sun.\n\nNoiselessly as the springtime\n  Her crown of verdure weaves,\nAnd all the trees on all the hills\n  Open their thousand leaves;\nSo without sound of music,\n  Or voice of them that wept,\nSilently down from the mountain's crown\n  The great procession swept.\n\nPerchance the bald old eagle,\n  On gray Beth-peor's height,\nOut of his lonely eyrie\n  Looked on the wondrous sight;\nPerchance the lion stalking,\n  Still shuns that hallowed spot,\nFor beast and bird have seen and heard\n  That which man knoweth not.\n\nBut when the warrior dieth,\n  His comrades in the war,\nWith arms reversed and muffled drum,\n  Follow his funeral car;\nThey show the banners taken,\n  They tell his battles won,\nAnd after him lead his masterless steed,\n  While peals the minute gun.\n\nAmid the noblest of the land\n  We lay the sage to rest,\nAnd give the bard an honored place\n  With costly marble drest,\nIn the great minster transept,\n  Where lights like glories fall,\nAnd the organ rings, and the sweet choir sings,\n  Along the emblazoned wall.\n\nThis was the truest warrior\n  That ever buckled sword;\nThis the most gifted poet\n  That ever breathed a word.\nAnd never earth's philosopher\n  Traced with his golden pen\nOn the deathless page truths half so sage\n  As he wrote down for men.\n\nAnd had he not high honor?--\n  The hillside for a pall,\nTo lie in state, while angels wait,\n  With stars for tapers tall;\nAnd the dark rock-pines, like tossing plumes,\n  Over his bier to wave,\nAnd God's own hand in that lonely land\n  To lay him in the grave,--\n\nIn that strange grave without a name,\n  Whence his uncoffined clay\nShall break again, O wondrous thought!\n  Before the judgment day,\nAnd stand with glory wrapt around\n  On the hills he never trod;\nAnd speak of the strife, that won our life,\n  With the incarnate son of God.\n\nO lonely grave in Moab's land!\n  O dark Beth-peor's hill!\nSpeak to these curious hearts of ours,\n  And teach them to be still.\nGod hath his mysteries of grace,\n  Ways that we cannot tell;\nHe hides them deep, like the hidden sleep\n  Of him He loved so well.\n\n_--Cecil Frances Alexander._\n\n\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF JOSHUA\n\n\nAfter Moses, Joshua was duke and leader of the children of Israel, and\nbrought them into the land of behest, and did many great battles. For\nwhom God showed many great marvels and in especial one; that was that\nthe sun stood still at his request, till he had overcome his enemies, by\nthe space of a day. And our Lord, when he fought, sent down such\nhail-stones that slew more of his enemies with the stones than with\nman's hand.\n\nJoshua was a noble man and governed well Israel, and divided the land\nunto the twelve tribes by lot. And when he was an hundred and ten years\nold he died. And divers dukes after him judged and deemed Israel, of\nwhom be noble histories, as of Jephthah, Gideon, and Samson, which I\npass over unto the histories of the kings, which is read in holy church\nfrom the first Sunday after Trinity Sunday, unto the first Sunday of\nAugust.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF SAUL\n\n_The first Sunday after Trinity Sunday unto the first Sunday of the\nmonth of August is read the Book of Kings_.\n\n\nThis history maketh mention that there was a man named Elkanah which had\ntwo wives, that one was named Hannah, and the name of the second\nPeninnah. Peninnah had children and Hannah had none but was barren. The\ngood man at such days as he was bounden, went to his city for to make\nhis sacrifice and worship God. In this time Hophni and Phineas sons of\nEli, the great priest, were priests of our Lord. This Elkanah gave to\nPeninnah at such times as he offered, to her sons and daughters, certain\nparts, and unto Hannah he gave but one part. Peninnah did much sorrow\nand reproof to Hannah because she had had no children, and thus did\nevery year, and provoked her to wrath, but she wept for sorrow and ate\nno meat. To whom Elkanah her husband said: Hannah, why weepest thou? and\nwherefore eatest thou not? Why is thine heart put to affliction? Am I\nnot better to thee than ten sons? Then Hannah arose after she had eaten\nand drunk in Shilo and went to pray unto our Lord, making to him a vow\nif that she might have a son she should offer him to our Lord. Eli that\ntime sat tofore the posts of the house of our Lord. And Hannah besought\nand prayed our Lord, making to him a vow, if that she might have a son\nshe should offer him to our Lord. And it was so that she prayed so\nheartily in her thought and mind, that her lips moved not, wherefore Eli\nbare her on hand that she was drunk. And she said: Nay, my lord, I am a\nsorrowful woman, I have drunken no wine ne drink that may cause me to be\ndrunken, but I have made my prayers, and cast my soul in the sight of\nAlmighty God. Repute me not as one of the daughters of Belial, for the\nprayer that I have made and spoken yet is of the multitude of the\nheaviness and sorrow of my heart. Then Eli the priest said to her: Go in\npeace, the God of Israel give to thee the petition of thy heart for that\nthou hast prayed him. And she said: Would God that thy handservant might\nfind grace in thy sight. And so she departed, and on the morn they went\nhome again in to Ramatha.\n\nAfter this our Lord remembered her, and she bare a fair son and named\nhim Samuel for so much as she asked him of our Lord. Wherefore Elkanah,\nher husband, went and offered a solemn sacrifice and his vow\naccomplished, but Hannah ascended not with him. She said to her husband\nthat she would not go till her child were weaned and taken from the pap.\nAnd after when Samuel was weaned, and was an infant, the mother took\nhim, and three calves and three measures of meal, and a bottle of wine,\nand brought him unto the house of our Lord in Shilo and sacrificed that\ncalf and offered the child to Eli, and told to Eli that she was the\nwoman that prayed our Lord for that child. And there Hannah worshipped\nour Lord and thanked him, and there made this psalm which is one of the\ncanticles: My heart hath rejoiced in the Lord, and so forth, all the\nremnant of that psalm. And then Elkanah with his wife returned home to\nhis house. After this our Lord visited Hannah, and she conceived three\nsons, and two daughters, which she brought forth. And Samuel abode in\nthe house of our Lord and was minister in the sight of Eli. But the two\nsons of Eli, Hophni and Phineas, were children of Belial, not knowing\nour Lord, but did great sins against the commandments of God. And our\nLord sent a prophet to Eli because he corrected not his sons, and said\nhe would take the office from him and from his house, and that there\nshould not be an old man in his house and kindred, but should die ere\nthey came to man's estate, and that God should raise a priest that\nshould be faithful and after his heart.\n\nSamuel served and ministered our Lord in a surplice before Eli. And on a\ntime as Eli lay in his bed his eyes were so dimmed that he might not see\nthe lantern of God till it was quenched and put out. Samuel slept in the\ntemple of our Lord whereas the ark of God was, and our Lord called\nSamuel, which answered: I am ready, and ran to Eli and said: I am ready,\nthou callest me. Which said: I called thee not my son, return and sleep,\nand he returned and slept. And our Lord called him the second time, and\nhe arose and went to Eli and said: Lo! I am here, thou calledst me,\nwhich answered: I called thee not, go thy way, and sleep. Samuel knew\nnot the calling of our Lord yet, ne there was never revelation showed\nhim tofore. And our Lord called Samuel the third time, which arose and\ncame to Eli and said: I am here, for thou calledst me. Then Eli\nunderstood that our Lord had called him, and said to Samuel: Go and\nsleep, and if thou be called again thou shalt say: Speak, Lord, for thy\nservant heareth thee. Samuel returned and slept in his place, and our\nLord came and called him: Samuel! Samuel! and Samuel said: Say, Lord,\nwhat it pleaseth, for thy servant heareth. And then our Lord said to\nSamuel: Lo! I make my word to be known in Israel that whoso heareth, his\nears shall ring and sound thereof. In that day I shall raise against Eli\nthat I have said upon his house. I shall begin and accomplish it. I have\ngiven him in knowledge that I shall judge his house for wickedness,\nforasmuch as he knoweth his sons to do wickedly, and hath not corrected\nthem. Therefore I have sworn to the house of Eli that the wickedness of\nhis house shall not be made clean with sacrifices ne gifts never.\n\nSamuel slept till on the morn, and then he rose and opened the doors of\nthe house of our Lord in his surplice; and Samuel was afeard to show\nthis vision unto Eli. Eli called him and asked what our Lord hath said\nto him and charged him to tell him all: and Samuel told to him all that\nour Lord had said, and hid nothing from him. And he said: He is our\nLord, what it pleaseth him, let him do. Samuel grew, and our Lord was\nwith him in all his works. And it was known to all Israel from Dan to\nBeersheba that Samuel was the true prophet of our Lord. After this it\nwas so that the Philistines warred against the children of Israel,\nagainst whom there was a battle, and the children of Israel overthrown\nand put to flight. Wherefore they assembled again, and took with them\nthe ark of God which Hophni and Phineas, sons of Eli, bare, and when\nthey came with a great multitude with the ark, the Philistines were\nafraid. Notwithstanding they fought against them manly and slew thirty\nthousand footmen of the children of Israel and took the ark of God. And\nthe two sons of Eli were slain, Hophni and Phineas. And a man of the\ntribe of Benjamin ran for to tell this unto Eli which sat abiding some\ntidings of the battle. This man, as soon as he entered into the town,\ntold how the field was lost, the people slain, and how the ark was\ntaken. And there was a great sorrow and cry.\n\nAnd when Eli heard this cry and wailing he demanded what this noise was\nand meant, and wherefore they so sorrowed. Then the man hied and came\nand told to Eli. Eli was at that tide ninety-eight years old, and his\neyes were waxen blind and might not see, and he said: I am he that came\nfrom the battle, and fled this day from the host. To whom Eli said: What\nis there done, my son? He answered: The host of Israel is overthrown and\nfled tofore the Philistines, and a great ruin is made among the people,\nthy two sons be slain and the ark of God is taken. And when Eli heard\nhim name the ark of God he fell down backward by the door and brake his\nneck and there died. He was an old man and had judged Israel forty\nyears. Then the Philistines took the ark of God and set it in their\ntemple of Dagon, by their god Dagon, in Ashdod. On the morn, the next\nday early, when they of Ashdod came into their temple, they saw their\ngod Dagon lie on the ground tofore the ark of God upon his face, and the\nhead and the two hands of Dagon were cut off. And there abode no more\nbut the trunk only in the place. And God showed many vengeances to them\nof the country as long as the ark was with them, for God smote them with\nsickness, and wells boiled in towns and fields of that region, and there\ngrew among them so many mice, that they suffered great persecution and\nconfusion in that city.\n\nThe people seeing this vengeance and plague said: Let not the ark of the\nGod of Israel abide longer with us, for his hand is hard on us and on\nDagon our god, and sent for the great masters and governors of the\nPhilistines, and when they were gathered they said: What shall we do\nwith the ark of the God of Israel? And they answered: Let it be led all\nabout the cities, and so it was, and a great vengeance and death was had\nupon all the cities, and smote every man with plague from the most to\nthe least. And then they sent the ark of God into Acheron and when they\nof Acheron saw the ark, they cried saying: They have brought the ark of\nthe God of Israel to us, for to slay us and our people. They cried that\nthe ark should be sent home again, for much people were dead by the\nvengeance that was taken on them, and a great howling and wailing was\namong them. The ark was in the region of the Philistines seven months.\nAfter this they counselled with their priests what they should do with\nthe ark, and it was concluded it should be sent home again, but the\npriests said: If ye send it home, send it not void, but what ye owe pay\nfor your trespass and sin, and then ye shall be healed and cured of your\nsicknesses. And so they ordained after the number of the five provinces\nof the Philistines, five pieces of gold and five mice of gold, and led\nto a wain and put in it two wild kine, which never bear yoke, and said,\nLeave their calves at home and take the ark and set it on the wain, and\nalso the vessels and pieces of gold that ye have paid for your trespass,\nset them at the side of the ark and let them go where they will, and\nthus they sent the ark of God unto the children of Israel.\n\nSamuel then governed Israel long, and when he was old he set his sons\njudges on Israel, whose names were Joel and Abiah. And these two his\nsons walked not in his ways, but declined after covetise and took gifts\nand perverted justice and doom. Then assembled and gathered together all\nthe greatest of birth of the children of Israel, and came to Samuel and\nsaid: Lo! thou art old and thy sons walk not in thy ways, wherefore\nordain to us a king that may judge and rule us like as all other nations\nhave. This displeased much to Samuel when they said, Ordain on us a\nking. Then Samuel counselled on this matter with our Lord, to whom God\nsaid: Hear the voice of the people that speak to thee: they have not\ncast only thee away, but me, that I should not reign on them, for they\ndo now like as they ever have done sith I brought them out of Egypt unto\nthis day; that is that they have served false gods and strange, and so\ndo they to thee. Notwithstanding hear them, and tell to them tofore, the\nright of the king, and how he shall oppress them.\n\nSamuel told all this to the people that demanded to have a king, and\nsaid: This shall be the right of a king that shall reign on you. He\nshall take your sons and make them his men of war, and set them in his\nchariots and shall make them his carters and riders of his horse in his\nchariots and carts, and shall ordain of them tribunes and centurions,\nearers and tillers of his fields, and mowers and reapers of his corn,\nand he shall make them smiths, and armorers of harness and cars, and he\nshall also take your daughters and make them his unguentaries [makers of\nperfumes], and ready at his will and pleasure; he shall also take from\nyou your fields and vineyards and the best olives and give them to his\nservants, and he shall task and dime [tithe] your corn and sheaves, and\nthe rents of your vineyards he shall value for to give to his officers\nand servants, and shall take from you your servants, both men and women,\nand set them to his works. And your asses and beasts he also shall take\nto his labor, your flocks of sheep he shall task and take the tenth or\nwhat shall please him, and ye shall be to him thrall and servants. And\nye shall cry then wishing to flee from the face of yaur king, and our\nLord shall not hear you nor deliver you because ye have asked for you a\nking. Yet for all this the people would not hear Samuel, but said: Give\nto us a king, for a king shall reign on us, and we shall be as all other\npeople be. And our king shall judge us and go before us, and he shall\nfight our battles for us.\n\nAnd Samuel heard all and counselled with our Lord. To whom God commanded\nto ordain to them a king, and so he did, for he took a man of the tribe\nof Benjamin whose name was Saul, a good man and chosen, and there was\nnot a better among all the children of Israel, and he was higher of\nstature from the shoulder upward than any other of all the people. And\nSamuel anointed him king upon Israel, and said to him: Our Lord God hath\nanointed thee upon his heritage and ordained thee a prince, and thou\nshalt deliver his people from the hands of his enemies that be in the\ncircuit and countries about, and so departed from him. And Samuel after\nthis gathered the people together and said: Our Lord saith that he hath\nbrought you from the land of Egypt, and saved you from the hands of all\nthe kings that were your enemies and pursued you, and ye have forsaken\nour Lord God that hath only delivered you from all your evil and\ntribulations, and have said: Ordain upon us a king. Wherefore now stand\nevery each in his tribe, and we shall lot who shall be our king. And the\nlot fell on the tribe of Benjamin, and in that tribe the lot fell upon\nSaul the son of Kish. And they sought him and could not find him, and it\nwas told him that he was hid in his house at home, and the people ran\nthither and fetched him and set him amidst all the people. And he was\nhigher than any of all the people from the shoulder upward. Then Samuel\nsaid to the people, Now ye see and behold whom our Lord hath chosen, for\nthere is none like him of all the people. And then all the people cried:\nVivat Rex, live the king. Samuel wrote the law of the realm to the\npeople in a book, and put it tofore our Lord. Thus was Saul made the\nfirst king in Israel, and anon had much war, for on all sides men warred\non the children of Israel, and he defended them, and Saul had divers\nbattles and had victory.\n\nSamuel came on a time to Saul and said God commanded him to fight\nagainst Amalek and that he should slay and destroy man, woman, and\nchild, ox, cow, camel and ass and sheep, and spare nothing. Then Saul\nassembled his people and had two hundred thousand footmen and twenty\nthousand men of the tribe of Judah, and went forth and fought against\nAmalek and slew them, sauf he saved Agag the King of Amalek alive, and\nall other he slew, but he spared the best flocks of sheep and of other\nbeasts, and also good clothes, and wethers, and all that was good he\nspared, and whatsomever was foul he destroyed. And this was showed to\nSamuel by our Lord, saying: Me forthinketh that I have ordained Saul\nking upon Israel, for he hath forsaken me, and not fulfilled my\ncommandments. Samuel was sorry herefor, and wailed all the night. On the\nmorn he rose and came to Saul, and Saul offered sacrifice to our Lord of\nthe pillage that he had taken. And Samuel demanded of Saul what noise\nthat was he heard of sheep and beasts, and he said that they were of the\nbeasts that the people had brought from Amalek to offer unto our Lord,\nand the residue were slain. They have spared the best and fattest for to\ndo sacrifice with unto thy Lord God. Then said Samuel to Saul:\nRememberest thou not that whereas thou wert least among the tribes of\nIsrael thou wert made upperest? And our Lord anointed thee, and made\nthee king. And he said to thee: Go and slay the sinners of Amalek and\nleave none alive, man ne beast; why hast thou not obeyed the commandment\nof our Lord? And hast run to robbery and done evil in the sight of God?\nAnd then said Saul to Samuel: I have taken Agag, king of the Amalekites,\nand brought him with me, but I have slain Amalek. The people have taken\nof the sheep and beasts of the best for to offer unto our Lord God. And\nthen said Samuel: Trowest thou that our Lord would rather have sacrifice\nand offerings than not to obey his commandments? Better is obedience\nthan sacrifice, and better it is to take heed to do after thy Lord than\nto offer the fat kidneys of the wethers. For it is a sin to withstand\nand to repugn against his Lord like the sin of idolatry. And because\nthou hast not obeyed our Lord, and cast away his word, our Lord hath\ncast thee away that thou shalt not be king. Then said Saul to Samuel: I\nhave sinned for I have not obeyed the word of God and thy words, but\nhave dreaded the people and obeyed to their request, but I pray thee to\nbear my sin and trespass and return with me that I may worship our\nLord. And Samuel answered, I shall not return with thee. And so Samuel\ndeparted, and yet ere he departed, he did do slay [caused to be slain]\nAgag the king. And Samuel saw never Saul after unto his death.\n\nThen our Lord bade Samuel to go and anoint one of the sons of Isai,\notherwise called Jesse, to be king of Israel. And so he came into\nBethlehem unto Jesse and bade him bring his sons tofore him. This Jesse\nhad eight sons, be brought tofore Samuel seven of them, and Samuel said\nthere was not he that he would have. Then he said that there was no\nmore, save one which was youngest and yet a child, and kept sheep in the\nfield. And Samuel said: Send for him, for I shall eat no bread till he\ncome. And so he was sent for and brought. He was ruddy and fair of\nvisage and well favored, and Samuel arose, and took an horn with oil and\nanointed him in the middle of his brethren. And forthwith the spirit of\nour Lord came directly in him that same day and ever after. Then Samuel\ndeparted and came into Ramah. And the spirit of our Lord went away from\nSaul and an evil spirit oft vexed him. Then his servants said to him:\nThou oft art vexed with an evil spirit, it were good to have one that\ncould harp, to be with thee when the spirit vexeth thee, thou shalt bear\nit the lighter. And he said to his servants: Provide ye to me such one.\nAnd then one said: I saw one of Jesse's sons play on a harp, a fair\nchild and strong, wise in his talking and our Lord is with him. Then\nSaul sent messages to Jesse for David, and Jesse sent David his son\nwith a present of bread, wine, and a kid, to Saul. And always when the\nevil spirit vexed Saul, David harped tofore him and anon he was eased,\nand the evil spirit went his way.\n\nAfter this the Philistines gathered them into great hosts to make war\nagainst Saul and the children of Israel, and Saul gathered the children\nof Israel together and came against them in the vale of Terebinthe. The\nPhilistines stood upon the hill on that other part, and the valley was\nbetween them. And there came out of the host of the Philistines a great\ngiant named Goliath of Gath; he was six cubits high and a palm, and a\nhelmet of brass on his head, and was clad in a habergeon. The weight of\nhis habergeon was of five thousand shekels of weight of metal. He had\nboots of brass on his calves, and his shoulders were covered with plates\nof brass. His glaive was as a great colestaff, and there was thereon six\nshekels of iron, and his squire went tofore him and cried against them\nof Israel, and said they should choose a man to fight a singular battle\nagainst Goliath, and if he were overcome the Philistines should be\nservants to Israel, and if he prevailed and overcame his enemy, they of\nIsrael should serve the Philistines, and thus he did cry forty days\nlong. Saul and the children of Israel were sore afraid. David was at\nthis time in Bethlehem with his father, and kept sheep, and three of his\nbrethren were in the host with Saul. To whom Jesse said: David, take\nthis pottage, ten loaves of bread, and ten cheeses, and go run unto the\nhost to thy brethren, and see how they do, and learn how they be\narrayed. David delivered his sheep to one to keep them, and bare these\nthings unto the host. And when he came thither he heard a great cry, and\nhe demanded after his brethren. And that same time came forth that giant\nGoliath and said, as he had done tofore, and David heard him speak. All\nthey of Israel fled for fear of him, and David demanded what he was, and\nit was told him that he was come to destroy Israel, and also that what\nman that might slay him, the king should enrich him with great riches,\nand should give to him his daughter, and shall make the house of his\nfather without tribute. And David said: What is this uncircumcised that\nhath despised the host of the God of Israel? And what reward shall he\nhave that shall slay him? And the people said as afore is said. And when\nhis oldest brother heard him speak to the people he was wroth with him,\nand said: Wherefore art thou come hither and hast left the few sheep in\ndesert. I know well thy pride, thou art come for to see the battle. And\nDavid said: What have I done? Is it not as the people said? I dare fight\nwell with this giant; and declined from his brother to other of the\npeople. And all this was showed to Saul, and David was brought to him,\nand said to Saul: I, thy servant, shall fight against this giant if thou\nwilt. And Saul said to him: Thou mayst not withstand this Philistine nor\nfight against him, for thou art but a child; this giant hath been a\nfighter from his childhood. David said to Saul: I thy servant kept my\nfather's sheep, and there came a lion and a bear and took away a wether\nfrom the middle of my flock, and I pursued after, and took it again from\ntheir mouths, and they arose and would have devoured me, and I caught\nthem by the jaws and slew them. I thy servant slew the lion and the\nbear, therefore this Philistine uncircumcised shall be as one of them. I\nshall now go and deliver Israel from this opprobrium and shame. How is\nthis Philistine uncircumcised so hardy as to curse the host of the\nliving God? And yet said David: The Lord that kept me from the might of\nthe lion and from the strength of the bear, he will deliver me from the\npower of the Philistine. Saul said then to David: Go, and our Lord be\nwith thee.\n\nSaul did do arm him with his armor, and girded his sword about him. And\nwhen he was armed, David said: I may not ne cannot fight thus, for I am\nnot accustomed ne used, and unarmed him, and took his staff that he had\nin his hand, and chose to him five good round stones from the brook and\nput them in his bag, and took a sling in his hand, and went forth\nagainst the giant. And when Goliath saw him come, he despised him and\nsaid: Weenest thou that I am a hound that comest with thy staff to me?\nAnd he cursed David by his gods, and said to David: Come hither and I\nshall give thy flesh to the fowls of heaven and to the beasts of the\nearth. David said unto Goliath: Thou comest to me with thy sword and\nglaive, and I come to thee in the name of the Lord God of the host of\nIsrael which thou hast this day despised; and that Lord shall give thee\nin my hand, and I shall slay thee and smite off thy head. And I shall\ngive this day the bodies of the men of war of the Philistines to the\nfowls of heaven, and to the beasts of the earth. Then Goliath rose and\nhied toward David, and David on that other side hied, and took a stone\nand laid it in his sling, and threw it at the giant, and smote him in\nthe forehead in such wise that the stone was fixed there, in that he\nfell down on his visage. Thus prevailed David against the Philistine\nwith his sling and stone, and smote him and slew him. And he had no\nsword but he went and took Goliath's own sword and therewith smote off\nhis head. And then the Philistines seeing this giant thus slain, fled,\nand the Israelites after followed, and slew many of them, and returned\nagain and came into the tents, pavilions and lodgings of the\nPhilistines, and took all the pillage.\n\nDavid took the head of Goliath and brought it into Jerusalem, and his\narms he brought into his tabernacle. And Abner brought David, having the\nhead of Goliath in his hand, tofore Saul. And Saul demanded of him of\nwhat kindred that he was, and he said that he was son of Jesse of\nBethlehem, and forthwith that same time Jonathan, the son of Saul, loved\nDavid as his own soul. Saul then would not give him license to return to\nhis father, and Jonathan and he were confederate and swore each of them\nto be true to other, for Jonathan gave his coat that he was clad withal,\nand all his other garments, unto his sword and spear, unto David. And\nDavid did all that ever Saul bade him do wisely and prudently. And when\nhe returned from the battle, and Goliath was slain, the women came out\nfrom every town singing with choirs and timpanes against the coming of\nSaul with great joy and gladness, saying: Saul hath slain a thousand and\nDavid hath slain ten thousand. And this saying displeased much to Saul,\nwhich said: They have given to David ten thousand and to me one\nthousand; what may he more have save the realm, and to be king? For this\ncause Saul never loved David after that day, ne never looked on him\nfriendly but ever sought means afterward to destroy David, for he\ndreaded that David should be lord with him, and put him from him. And\nDavid was wise and kept him well from him. And after this he wedded\nMichal, daughter of Saul, and Jonathan made oft times peace between Saul\nand David, yet Saul kept no promise, but ever lay in wait to slay David.\nAnd Jonathan warned David thereof. And David gat him a company of men of\nwar to the number of four hundred, and kept him in the mountains.\n\nAnd on a time David was at home with his wife Michal, and Saul sent\nthither men of war to slay him in his house in the morning; and when\nMichal heard thereof, she said to David: But if thou save thyself this\nnight, to-morn thou shalt die, and she let him out by a window by which\nhe escaped and saved himself. Michal took an image and laid in his bed,\nand a rough skin of a goat on the head of the image, and covered it with\nclothes. And on the morn Saul sent spies for David, and it was answered\nto them that he lay sick in his bed. Then after this sent Saul\nmessengers for to see David, and said to them: Bring him to me in his\nbed that he may be slain. And when the messengers came they found a\nsimulachre or an image in his bed, and goats' skins on the head. Then\nsaid Saul to Michal his daughter: Why hast thou mocked me so, and hast\nsuffered mine enemy to flee? And Michal answered to Saul and said: He\nsaid to me: Let me go or I shall slay thee.\n\nDavid went to Samuel in Rama and told him all that Saul had done to him.\nAnd it was told to Saul that David was with Samuel, and he sent thither\nmessengers to take him. And when they came they found them with the\ncompany of prophets, and they sat and prophesied with them. And he sent\nmore. And they did also so. And the third time he sent more messengers.\nAnd they also prophesied. And then Saul being wroth asked where Samuel\nand David were, and went to them, and he prophesied when he came also,\nand took off his clothes and was naked all that day and night before\nSamuel. David then fled from thence and came to Jonathan and complained\nto him saying: What have I offended that thy father seeketh to slay me?\nJonathan was sorry therefore, for he loved well David. After this Saul\never sought for to slay David. And on a time Saul went into a cave, and\nDavid was within the cave, to whom his squire said: Now hath God brought\nthine enemy into thine hand; now go and slay him. And David said: God\nforbid that I should lay any hand on him, he is anointed. I shall never\nhurt ne grieve him, let God do his pleasure. And he went to Saul and cut\noff a gobet [a small piece] of his mantle and kept it. And when Saul was\ngone out, soon after issued David out and cried to Saul saying: Lo!\nSaul, God hath brought thee into my hands. I might have slain thee if I\nhad would, but God forbade that I should lay hand on thee, my lord\nanointed of God. And what have I offended that thou seekest to slay me?\nWho art thou? said Saul. Art thou not David my son? Yes, said David, I\nam thy servant, and kneeled down and worshipped him. Then said Saul: I\nhave sinned, and wept and also said: Thou art rightfuller than I am,\nthou hast done to me good, and I have done to thee evil. And thou hast\nwell showed to me this day that God had brought me into thine hand, and\nthou hast not slain me. God reward thee for this, that thou hast done to\nme; now know I well that thou shalt reign in Israel. I pray thee to be\nfriendly to my seed, and destroy not my house, and swear and promise me\nthat thou take not away my name from the house of my father; and David\nsware and promised to Saul. And then Saul departed and went home, and\nDavid and his people went in to surer places.\n\nAnon after this Samuel died, and was buried in his house in Rama. And\nall Israel bewailed him greatly. Then there was a rich man in the mount\nof Carmel that hight Nabal, and on a time he sheared and clipped his\nsheep, to whom David sent certain men, and bade them say that David\ngreeted him well, and whereas aforetimes his shepherds kept his sheep\nin desert, he never was grevious to them, ne they lost not much as a\nsheep as long as they were with us, and that he might ask his servants\nfor they could tell, and that he would now in their need send them what\nit pleased him. Nabal answered to the children of David: Who is that\nDavid? Trow ye that I shall send the meat that I have made ready for\nthem that shear my sheep and send it to men that I know not? The men\nreturned and told to David all that he had said. Then said David to his\nmen: Let every man take his sword and gird him withal, and David took\nhis sword and girt him. And David went and four hundred men followed\nhim, and he left two hundred behind him. One of the servants of Nabal\ntold to Abigail, Nabal's wife, how that David had sent messengers from\nthe desert unto his lord, and how wroth and wayward he was, and also he\nsaid that those men were good enough to them when they were in desert,\nne never perished beast of yours as long as they were there. They were a\nwall and a shield for us both day and night all the time that we kept\nour flocks there, wherefore consider what is to be done. They purpose to\ndo harm to him and to his house, for he is the son of Belial in such\nwise that no man may speak with him. Then Abigail hied her and took two\nhundred loaves of bread, one hundred bottles of wine, five wethers\nsodden, and five measures of pottage, and one hundred bonds of grapes\ndried, and two hundred masses of caricares, and laid all this upon\nasses, and said to her servants: Go ye tofore, and I shall follow\nafter. She told hereof nothing to her husband Nabal.\n\nThen she took an ass and rode after, and when she came to the foot of\nthe hill, David and his men descended; to whom she ran, and David said:\nI have for naught saved all the beasts of this Nabal in desert, and\nthere perished nothing of his that pertained to him, and he hath yielded\nevil for good. By the living God I shall not leave as much as his alive\nas one man. As soon as Abigail saw David she descended from her ass, and\nfell down tofore David, upon her visage and worshipped him on the earth,\nand fell down to his feet and said: In me, said she, my lord, be this\nwickedness, I beseech thee that I thine handmaiden may speak to thine\nears, and that thou wilt hear the words of me thy servant. I pray and\nrequire thee my lord, let not thy heart be set against this wicked man\nNabal, for according to his name he is a fool, and folly is with him. I\nthine handmaid saw not thy children that thou sendedst. Now, therefore,\nmy lord, for the love of God and of thy soul, suffer not thy hand to\nshed no blood, and I beseech God that thine enemies may be like Nabal\nand they that would thee harm; and I beseech thee to receive this\nblessing and present which I thine handmaid have brought to thee, my\nlord, and give it to thy men that follow thee, my lord. Take away the\nwickedness from me thy servant, and I beseech God to make to thee, my\nlord, a house of truth, for thou, my lord, shall fight the battles of\nour Lord God; and let no malice be found in thee, never in all the days\nof thy life. If ever any man arise against thee or would pursue or would\nhurt thee, I beseech God to keep thee. And when our Lord God hath\naccomplished to thee, my lord, all that he hath spoken good of thee, and\nhath constituted thee duke upon Israel, let this not be in thy thought,\nne scruple in thy heart that thou shouldest shed blood not guilty, ne be\nthou not now avenged. And when our Lord God hath done well to thee, my\nlord, have thou remembrance on me thine handmaid, and do well to me.\n\nAnd David said to Abigail: Blessed be God of Israel that sent thee this\nday to meet me, and blessed be thy speech, and blessed be thou that hast\nwithdrawn me from bloodshedding, and that I avenged me not on mine enemy\nwith mine hand, else by the living God of Israel, if thou hadst not come\nunto me, there should not have blyven [been left] unto Nabal to-morn in\nthe morning one man. Then David received all that she brought and said\nto her: Go peaceably into thine house, lo! I have heard thy voice and I\nhave honored thy visage; and so Abigail came unto Nabal, and David\nreturned into the place he came from. Nabal made a great feast in his\nhouse, like the feast of a king, and the heart of Nabal was jocund; he\nwas drunken, and Abigail his wife told to him no word till on the morn,\nlittle ne much. On the morn when Nabal had digested the wine, his wife\ntold him all these words. And his heart was mortified within him, and he\nwas dead like a stone, for the tenth day after, our Lord smote him and\nhe died. And when David heard that he was dead, he said: Blessed be the\ngood Lord that hath judged the cause of mine opprobrium from the hand of\nNabal, and hath kept me his servant from harm, and our Lord hath yielded\nthe malice of Nabal on his own head. Then David sent to Abigail for to\nhave her to his wife, and she humbled herself and said she his handmaid\nwas ready to wash the feet of his servants. And she arose and took with\nher five maidens which went afoot by her, and she rode upon an ass, and\nfollowed the messengers, and was made wife to David. And David also took\nanother wife called Ahinoam of Jezreel, and both two were his wives.\n\nAfter this Saul always sought David for to slay him. And the people\ncalled Zyphites told to Saul that David was hid in the hill of Hachilah\nwhich was on the after part of the wilderness, and Saul took with him\nthree thousand chosen men and followed and sought David. David when he\nheard of the coming of Saul went into the place whereas Saul was, and\nwhen he was asleep he took one with him and went into the tent where\nSaul slept, and Abner with him and all his people. Then said Abishai to\nDavid: God hath put thine enemy this day in thine hands, now I shall go\nand smite him through with my spear, and then after that we shall have\nno need to dread him. And David said to Abishai: Slay him not; who may\nextend his hand into the anointed king of God and be innocent? And David\nsaid yet more: By the living God, but if God smite him or the days come\nthat he shall die or perish in battle, God be merciful to me, as I\nshall not lay my hand on him that is anointed of our Lord. Now take the\nspear that standeth at his head, and the cup of water, and let us go.\nDavid took the spear and the cup and departed thence and there was not\none that saw them ne awaked, for they slept all. Then when David was on\nthe hill far from them, David cried to the people and to Abner, saying:\nAbner, shalt not thou answer? And Abner answered: Who art thou that\ncryest and wakest the king? And David said to Abner: Art thou not a man\nand there is none like thee in Israel? why hast thou not therefore kept\nthy lord the king? There is one of the people gone in to slay the king\nthy lord; by the living Lord it is not good that ye do, but be ye worthy\nto die because ye have not kept your lord anointed of our Lord. Now look\nand see where the king's spear is, and the cup of water that stood at\nhis head. Saul knew the voice of David and said: Is not this thy voice,\nmy son David? And David said: It is my voice, my lord king. For what\ncause dost thou, my lord, pursue me thy servant? what thing have I done\nand what evil have I committed with my hand? Thou seest well I might\nhave slain thee if I would; God judge between thee and me. And Saul\nsaid: I have sinned, return, my son; I shall never hereafter do thee\nharm ne evil, for thy soul is precious in my sight this day. It\nappeareth now that I have done follily, and am ignorant in many things.\nThen said David: Lo! here is the spear of the king, let a child come\nfetch it, our Lord shall reward to every man after his justice and\nfaith. Our Lord hath this day brought thee into my hands, and yet I\nwould not lay mine hand on him that is anointed of our Lord. And like as\nthy soul is magnified this day in my sight, so be my soul magnified in\nthe sight of God and deliver me from all anguish. Saul said then to\nDavid: Blessed be thou, my son David. And David went then his way, and\nSaul returned home again.\n\nAnd David said in his heart: Sometime it might hap to me to fall and\ncome into the hands of Saul, it is better I flee from him and save me in\nthe land of the Philistines. And he went thence with six hundred men and\ncame to Achish king of Gath and dwelled there. And when Saul understood\nthat he was with Achish he ceased to seek him. And Achish delivered to\nDavid a town to dwell in named Ziklag.\n\nAfter this the Philistines gathered and assembled much people against\nIsrael. And Saul assembled all Israel and came upon Gilboa; and when\nSaul saw all the host of the Philistines, his heart dreaded and fainted\nsore, he cried for to have counsel of our Lord. And our Lord answered\nhim not, ne by swevens ne by priests, ne by prophets. Then said Saul to\nhis servants: Fetch to me a woman having a phiton, otherwise called a\nphitoness or a witch. And they said that there was such a woman in\nEndor. Saul then changed his habit and clothing, and did on other\nclothing, and went, and two men with him, and came to the woman by\nnight, and made her by her craft to raise Samuel. And Samuel said to\nSaul: Why hast thou put me from my rest, for to arise? And Saul said: I\nam coarted [constrained] thereto, for the Philistines fight against me,\nand God is gone from me, and will not hear me, neither by prophets, ne\nby swevens [dreams]. And Samuel said: What askest thou of me when God is\ngone from thee and gone unto David? God shall do to thee as he hath said\nto thee by me, and shall cut thy realm from thine hand, and shall give\nit thy neighbor David. For thou hast not obeyed his voice, ne hast not\ndone his commandment in Amalek; therefore thou shalt lose the battle and\nIsrael shall be overthrown. To-morrow thou and thy children shall be\nwith me, and our Lord shall suffer the children of Israel to fall in the\nhands of the Philistines. Anon then Saul fell down to the earth. The\nwords of Samuel made him afeard and there was no strength in him, for he\nhad eaten no bread of all that day, he was greatly troubled. Then the\nphitoness desired him to eat, and she slew a paschal lamb that she had,\nand dighted and set it tofore him, and bread. And when he had eaten he\nwalked with his servants all that night. And on the morn the Philistines\nassailed Saul and them of Israel, and fought a great battle, and the men\nof Israel fled from the face of the Philistines, and many of them were\nslain in the mount of Gilboa. The Philistines smote in against Saul and\nhis sons, and slew Jonathan and Abinadab, and Melchi-shua, sons of Saul.\nAnd all the burden of the battle was turned on Saul, and the archers\nfollowed him and wounded him sore. Then said Saul to his squire: Pluck\nout thy sword and slay me, that these men uncircumcised come not and,\nscorning, slay me; and his squire would not for he was greatly afeard.\nThen Saul took his sword and slew himself, which thing when his squire\nsaw, that is that Saul was dead, he took his sword and fell on it and\nwas dead with him. Thus was Saul dead, and his three sons and his\nsquire, and all his men that day together. Then the children of Israel\nthat were thereabouts, and on that other side of Jordan, seeing that the\nmen of Israel fled, and that Saul and his three sons were dead, left\ntheir cities and fled. The Philistines came and dwelled there, and the\nnext day the Philistines went for to rifle and pillage them that were\ndead, and they found Saul and his three sons lying in the hill of\nGilboa. And they cut off the head of Saul, and robbed him of his armor,\nand sent it into the land of the Philistines all about, that it might be\nshowed in the temple of their idols, and unto the people; and set up his\narms in the temple of Ashtaroth, and hung his body on the wall of\nBethshan. And when the men that dwelt in Jabesh-Gilead saw what the\nPhilistines had done unto Saul, all the strongest men of them arose and\nwent all that night and took down the bodies of Saul and of his sons\nfrom the wall of Bethshan and burned them, and took the bones and buried\nthem in the wood of Jabesh-Gilead and fasted seven days.\n\n_Thus endeth the life of Saul which was first king upon Israel, and for\ndisobedience of God's commandment was slain, and his heirs never reigned\nlong after._\n\n\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF DAVID\n\n_Here followeth how David reigned after Saul, and governed Israel.\nShortly taken out of the Bible, the most historical matters and but\nlittle touched._\n\n\nAfter the death of Saul David returned from the journey that he had\nagainst Amalek. For whilst David had been out with Achish the king, they\nof Amalek had been in Ziklag and taken all that was therein prisoners,\nand robbed and carried away with them the two wives of David, and had\nset fire and burned the town. And when David came again home and saw the\ntown burned he pursued after, and by the conveying of one of them of\nAmalek that was left by the way sick, for to have his life he brought\nDavid upon the host of Amalek whereas they sat and ate and drank. And\nDavid smote on them with his meiny [company] and slew down all that he\nfound, and rescued his wives and all the good that they had taken, and\ntook much more of them. And when he was come to Ziklag, the third day\nafter there came one from the host of Saul, and told to David how that\nIsrael had lost the battle, and how they were fled, and how Saul the\nking and Jonathan his son were slain. David said to the young man that\nbrought these tidings: How knowest thou that Saul and Jonathan be dead?\nAnd he answered it was so by adventure that I came upon the mount of\nGilboa, and Saul rested upon his spear, and the horsemen and the\nchariots of the Philistines approached to himward, and he looked behind\nhim and saw me, and called me, and said to me: Who art thou? And I said\nI am an Amalekite, and then he said: Stand upon me and slay me, for I am\nfull of anguish, and yet my soul is in me. And I then standing on him\nslew him, knowing well that he might not live after the ruin. And I took\nthe diadem from his head, and the armylle from his arm, which I have\nbrought hither to thee, my lord. David took and rent his vestment, and\nall the men that were with him, and wailed and sorrowed much the death\nof Saul and Jonathan and of all the men of Israel, and fasted that day\ntill even. And David said to the young man: Of whence art thou? And he\nsaid: I am the son of an Amalekite. And David said to him: Why dreadedst\nthou not to put thy hand forth to slay him that is anointed of God?\nDavid called one of his men, and bade him slay him. And he smote him and\nslew him. And David said: Thy blood be on thy head! thine own mouth hath\nspoken against thee, saying: I have slain Saul which was king anointed\nof our Lord.\n\nDavid sorrowed and bewailed much the death of Saul and of Jonathan.\nAfter this David counselled with our Lord and demanded if he should go\nin to one of the cities of Judah. And our Lord bade him go, and he asked\nwhither, and our Lord said: Into Hebron. Then David took his two wives\nand all the men that were with him, every each with his household, and\ndwelled in the towns of Hebron. And thither came the men of Judah and\nanointed David king to reign upon the tribe of Judah. And Abner prince\nof the host of Saul, and other servants of Saul, took Ishbosheth the son\nof Saul, and led him about, and made him king over Israel, except the\ntribe of Judah. Ishbosheth was forty years when he began to reign, and\nhe reigned two years. The house of Judah only followed David. After this\nit happed that Abner, prince of the host of Ishbosheth, with certain\nmen, went out of the castles, and Joab with certain men of David went\nalso out and ran by the piscine [pool] of Gibeon. One party was on that\none side, and that other on the other. And Abner said to Joab: Let our\nyoung men play and skirmish together, and Joab agreed. And there rose\ntwelve of Benjamin, of the party of Ishbosheth, and twelve of the\nchildren of David; and when they met together each took other by the\nhead, and roof their swords into each other's sides and were all there\nslain. And there arose a great battle, and Abner and his fellowship were\nput to flight by the men of David.\n\nAnd among all other there was Asahel one of the brethren of Joab and was\nthe swiftest runner that might be, and pursued Abner, and Abner looked\nbehind him, and bade him decline on the right side or on the left side,\nand take one of the young men and his harness, and come not at me.\nAsahel would not leave him; yet Abner said to him: Go from me and follow\nnot me lest I be compelled to slay thee, and then I may not make my\npeace with Joab thy brother. Which would not hear Abner, but despised\nhim, and Abner then turned and slew him in the same place, and anon the\nsun went down and they withdrew. There were slain of the children of\nDavid nineteen men and of them of Benjamin three hundred and sixty were\nslain, and thus there was long strife and contention between the house\nof David and the house of Ishbosheth. After this Abner took a concubine\nof Saul and held her, wherefore Ishbosheth reproved him of it and Abner\nwas wroth greatly thereof; and came to David and made friendship with\nhim. Joab was not there when Abner made his peace with David; but when\nhe knew it he came to Abner with a fair semblant and spake fair to him\nby dissimulation, and slew him for to avenge the death of Asahel his\nbrother. And when David heard how Joab had slain Abner he cursed him,\nand bewailed greatly the death of Abner, and did do bury him [caused him\nto be buried] honorably, and David followed the bier himself. And when\nIshbosheth, the son of Saul, heard that Abner was dead, he was all\nabashed and all Israel sore troubled. There were two princes of thieves\nwith Ishbosheth named Baanah and Rechab, which came on a day in to\nIshbosheth where he lay and slept, and there they slew him, and took\nprivily his head and brought it in to David in Hebron and said: Lo, here\nis the head of thine enemy Ishbosheth, that sought to slay thee; this\nday God hath given to thee my lord vengeance of Saul and of his seed.\nDavid answered to them: By the living God that hath delivered me from\nall anguish, him that told me that he had slain Saul, and had thought\nto have had a reward of me, I did do slay, how much more ye that be so\nwicked to slay him that is not guilty, in his house and upon his bed?\nShall I not ask his blood of your hands, and throw you out of this\nworld? Yes, certainly. And David commanded to his servants to slay them,\nand so they were slain, and cut off their hands and feet, and hung them\non the piscine [pool] in Hebron, and took the head of Ishbosheth and\nburied it in the sepulchre of Abner. And then came all the tribes of\nIsrael to David in Hebron, saying: We be thy mouth and thy flesh, when\nSaul lived and was king on us and reigned, thou wert coming and going;\nand because God hath said thou shalt reign upon my people and be their\ngovernor, therefore we shall obey thee. And all the seniors of Israel\ncame and did homage to David in Hebron, and anointed him king over them.\n\nDavid was thirty years old when he began to reign and he reigned forty\nyears. He reigned in Hebron upon Judah seven years and six months, and\nin Jerusalem he reigned thirty-three years upon all Israel and Judah.\nDavid then made him a dwelling-place in the hill of Sion in Jerusalem.\nAnd after this the Philistines made war against him, but he oft\noverthrew them and slew many of them, and made them tributary to him,\nand after brought the ark of God in Jerusalem, and set it in his house.\nAfter this yet the Philistines made war again unto him and other kings\nwere aiding and helping them against David, whom David overcame and slew\nand put under.\n\nAnd on a time when Joab was out with his men of war lying at a siege\ntofore a city, David was at home, and walked in his chamber, and as he\nlooked out at a window he saw a fair woman wash her and bain her in her\nchamber, which stood against his house, and demanded of his servants who\nshe was, and they said she was Uriah's wife. And David sent letters to\nJoab and bade him to send home to him Uriah; and Joab sent Uriah to\nDavid, and David demanded how the host was ruled, and after bade him go\nhome to his house and wash his feet. And Uriah went thence, and the king\nsent to him his dish with meat. Uriah would not go home, but lay before\nthe gate of the king's house with other servants of the king's. And it\nwas told to the king that Uriah went not home, and then David said to\nUriah: Thou comest from a far way, why goest thou not home? And Uriah\nsaid to David: The ark of God and Israel and Judah be in the pavilions,\nand my lord Joab and the servants of thee, my lord, lie on the ground,\nand would ye that I should go to my house? By thy health and by the\nhealth of my soul I shall not do so. Then David said to Uriah, Abide\nhere then this night, and to-morrow I shall deliver thee. Uriah abode\nthere that day and the next, and David made him eat tofore him and made\nhim drunk, yet for all that he would not go home, but lay with the\nservants of David. Then on the morn David wrote a letter to Joab, that\nhe should set Uriah in the weakest place of the battle and where most\njeopardy was, and that he should be left there that he might be slain.\nAnd Uriah bare this letter to Joab, and it was so done as David had\nwritten, and Uriah was slain in the battle. And Joab sent word to David\nhow they had fought, and how Uriah was slain and dead. When Uriah's wife\nheard that her husband was dead, she mourned and wailed him; and after\nthe mourning David sent for her and wedded her, and she bare him a son.\nAnd this that David had committed on Uriah displeased greatly our Lord.\n\nThen our Lord sent Nathan the prophet unto David, which, when he came,\nsaid to him: There were two men dwelling in a city, that one rich and\nthat other poor. The rich man had sheep and oxen right many, but the\npoor man had but one little sheep, which he bought and nourished and\ngrew with his children, eating of his bread and drinking of his cup, and\nslept in his bosom. She was to him as a daughter. And on a time when a\ncertain pilgrim came to the rich man, he, sparing his own sheep and oxen\nto make a feast to the pilgrim that was come to him, took the only sheep\nof the poor man and made meat thereof to his guest. David was wroth and\nsaid to Nathan: By the living God, the man that hath so done is the\nchild of death, the man that hath so done shall yield therefor four\ntimes double. Then said Nathan to David: Thou art the same man that hath\ndone this thing. This said the Lord God of Israel: I have anointed thee\nking upon Israel, and kept thee from the hand of Saul, and I have given\nto thee an house to keep in thine household and wives in thy bosom. I\nhave given to thee the house of Israel and the house of Judah, and if\nthese be small things I shall add and give to thee much more and\ngreater. Why hast thou therefore despised the word of God and hast done\nevil in the sight of our Lord? Thou hast slain Uriah with a sword, and\nhis wife hast thou taken unto thy wife, and thou hast slain him with the\nsword of the sons of Ammon. Therefore the sword shall not go from thy\nhouse, world without end, forasmuch as thou hast despised me and hast\ntaken Uriah's wife unto thy wife. This said our Lord: I shall raise evil\nagainst thee, and shall take thy wives in thy sight and give them to thy\nneighbor. Thou hast done it privily, but I shall make this to be done\nand open in the sight of all Israel. And then said David to Nathan:\nPeccavi! I have sinned against our Lord. Nathan said: Our Lord hath\ntaken away thy sin, thou shalt not die, but forasmuch as thou hast made\nthe enemy to blaspheme the name of God, therefore the son that is born\nto thee shall die by death. And Nathan returned to his house. And for\nthis sin David made this psalm: Miserere mei deus [Have pity on me, O\nGod!], which is a psalm of mercy, for David did great penance for these\nsins of adultery and also of homicide.\n\nTherefore God took away this sin, and forgave it him, but the son that\nshe brought forth died. And after this Bathsheba, that had been Uriah's\nwife, brought forth another son named Solomon, which was well-beloved of\nGod, and after David, Solomon was king.\n\nAfter this David had much war and trouble and anger, insomuch that on a\ntime Amnon, oldest son of David, loved Thamar his sister. David knew\nhereof, and was right sorry for it, but he would not rebuke his son\nAmnon for it, for he loved him because he was his first begotten son.\nAbsalom hated Amnon ever after, and when Absalom on a time did do shear\nhis sheep he prayed all his brethren to come eat with him, and made them\na feast like a king's feast. At which feast he did do slay his brother\nAmnon; and anon it was told to the King David that Absalom had slain all\nthe king's sons. Wherefore the king was in great heaviness and sorrow,\nbut anon after it was told him that there was no more slain but Amnon,\nand the other sons came home. And Absalom fled into Geshur, and was\nthere three years, and durst not come home. And after by the moyen of\nJoab he was sent for, and came into Jerusalem, but yet he might not come\nin his father the king's presence, and dwelled there two years, and\nmight not see the King his father. This Absalom was the fairest man that\never was, for from the sole of his foot unto his head there was not a\nspot; he had so much hair on his head that it grieved him to bear,\nwherefore it was shorn off once a year, it weighed two hundred shekels\nof good weight. Then when he abode so long that he might not come to his\nfather's presence he sent for Joab to come speak with him, and he would\nnot come. He sent again for him and he came not. Then Absalom said to\nhis servants: Know ye Joab's field that lieth by my field? They said\nyea. Go ye, said he, and set fire in the barley that is therein, and\nburn it. And Joab's servants came and told to Joab that Absalom had set\nfire on his corn. Then Joab came to Absalom and said: Why hast thou set\nfire on my corn! And he said, I have sent twice to thee, praying thee to\ncome to me that I might send thee to the king, and that thou shouldst\nsay to him why I came from Geshur; it had been better for me for to have\nabiden there. I pray thee that I may come to his presence and see his\nvisage, and if he remember my wickedness let him slay me. Joab went in\nto the King and told to him all these words. Then was Absalom called,\nand entered in to the king, and he fell down and worshipped the king,\nand the king kissed him. After this Absalom did do make for himself\nchariots and horsemen and fifty men for to go before him, and walked\namong the tribes of Israel; and greeted and saluted them, taking them by\nthe hand, and kissed them, by which he gat to him the hearts of the\npeople; and said to his father that he had avowed to make sacrifice to\nGod in Hebron, and his father gave him leave. And when he was there he\ngathered people to him, and made himself king, and did do cry that all\nmen should obey and wait on him as king of Israel. When David heard this\nhe was sore abashed and was fain to flee out of Jerusalem. And Absalom\ncame with his people and entered into Jerusalem into his father's house,\nand after pursued his father to depose him. And David ordained his\npeople and battle against him, and sent Joab, prince of his host,\nagainst Absalom, and divided his host into three parts, and would have\ngone with them, but Joab counselled that he should not go to the battle\nwhatsomever happed, and then David bade them to save his son Absalom.\n\nAnd they went forth and fought, and Absalom with his host was overthrown\nand put to flight. And as Absalom fled upon his mule he came under an\noak, and his hair flew about a bough of the tree and held so fast that\nAbsalom hung by his hair, and the mule ran forth. There came one to Joab\nand told him how that Absalom hung by his hair on a bough of an oak, and\nJoab said: Why hast thou not slain him? The man said: God forbid that I\nshould set hand on the king's son; I heard the king say: keep my son\nAbsalom alive and slay him not. Then Joab went and took three spears,\nand fixed them in the heart of Absalom as he hung on the tree by his\nhair, and yet after this ten young men, squires of Joab, ran and slew\nhim. Then Joab trumped and blew the retreat, and retained the people\nthat they should not pursue the people flying. And they took the body of\nAbsalom and cast it in a great pit, and laid on him a great stone. And\nwhen David knew that his son was slain, he made great sorrow and said: O\nmy son Absalom, my son Absalom, who shall grant to me that I may die for\nthee, my son Absalom, Absalom my son! It was told to Joab that the king\nwept and sorrowed the death of his son Absalom, and all their victory\nwas turned into sorrow and wailing, insomuch that the people eschewed to\nenter into the city. Then Joab entered in to the king and said: Thou\nhast this day discouraged the cheer of all thy servants because they\nhave saved thy life, and the lives of thy sons and daughters, of thy\nwives and of thy concubines, thou lovest them that hate thee, and hatest\nthem that love thee, and showest well this day that thou settest little\nby thy dukes and servants; and truly I know now well that if Absalom had\nlived and all we thy servants had been slain, thou haddest been pleased.\nTherefore, arise now and come forth and satisfy the people; or else I\nswear to thee by the good lord that there shall not one of thy servants\nabide with thee till to-morrow, and that shall be worse to thee than all\nthe harms and evils that ever yet fell to thee. Then David the king\narose and sat in the gate, and anon it was shown to all the people that\nthe king sat in the gate. And then all the people came in tofore the\nking, and they of Israel that had beerv with Absalom fled into their\ntabernacles, and after came again unto David when they knew that Absalom\nwas dead.\n\nAnd after, one Sheba, a cursed man, rebelled and gathered people against\nDavid. Against whom Joab with the host of David pursued, and drove him\nunto a city which he besieged, and by the means of a woman of the same\ncity Sheba's head was smitten off and delivered to Joab over the wall,\nand so the city was saved, and Joab pleased. After this David called\nJoab, and bade him number the people of Israel, and so Joab walked\nthrough all the tribes of Israel, from Dan to Beersheba, and over Jordan\nand all the country, and there were founden in Israel eight hundred\nthousand strong men that were able to fight and to draw sword, and of\nthe tribe of Judah fifty thousand fighting men. And after that the\npeople was numbered, the heart of David was smitten by our Lord and was\nheavy, and said: I have sinned greatly in this deed, but I pray the Lord\nto take away the wickedness of thy servant, for I have done follily.\nDavid rose on the morn early, and the word of our Lord came to Gad the\nprophet saying: that he should go to David and bid him choose one of\nthree things that he should say to him. When Gad came to David he said\nthat he should choose whether he would have seven years hunger in his\nland, or three months he should flee his adversaries and enemies, or to\nhave three days' pestilence. Of these three God biddeth thee choose\nwhich thou wilt; now advise thee and conclude what I shall answer to our\nLord. David said to Gad: I am constrained to a great thing, but it is\nbetter for me to put me in the hands of our Lord, for his mercy is much\nmore than in men, and so he chose pestilence.\n\nThen our Lord sent pestilence the time constitute, and there died of the\npeople from Dan to Beersheba seventy thousand men. And when the angel\nextended his hand upon Jerusalem for to destroy it, our Lord was\nmerciful upon the affliction, and said to the angel so smiting: It\nsufficeth now, withdraw thy hand. David said to our Lord when he saw the\nangel smiting the people: I am he that have sinned and done wickedly,\nwhat have these sheep done? I beseech thee that thy hand turn upon me\nand upon the house of my father. Then came Gad to David and bade him\nmake an altar in the same place where he saw the angel; and he bought\nthe place, and made the altar, and offered sacrifices unto our Lord, and\nour Lord was merciful, and the plague ceased in Israel.\n\nDavid was old and feeble and saw that his death approached, and ordained\nthat his son Solomon should reign and be king after him. Howbeit that\nAdonijah his son took on him to be king during David's life. For which\ncause Bathsheba and Nathan came to David, and tofore them he said that\nSolomon should be king, and ordained that he should be set on his mule\nby his prophets Nathan, Zadok the priest and Benaiah, and brought in to\nSion. And there Zadok the priest and Nathan the prophet anointed him\nking upon Israel and blew in a trump and said: Live the King Solomon.\nAnd from thence they brought him into Jerusalem and set him upon his\nfather's seat in his father's throne, and David worshipped him in his\nbed, and said: Blessed be the Lord God of Israel that hath suffered me\nto see my son in my throne and seat And then Adonijah and all they that\nwere with him were afeared, and dreading Solomon ran away, and so ceased\nAdonijah. The days of David approached fast that he should die, and did\ndo call Solomon before him, and there he commanded him to keep the\ncommandments of our Lord and walk in his ways, and to observe his\nceremonies, his precepts and his judgments, as it is written in the law\nof Moses, and said: Our Lord confirm thee in thy reign, and send to thee\nwisdom to rule it well. And when David had thus counselled and\ncommanded him to do justice and keep God's law, he blessed him and died,\nand was buried with his fathers. This David was an holy man and made the\nholy psalter, which is an holy book and is contained therein the old law\nand the new law. He was a great prophet, for he prophesied the coming of\nChrist, his nativity, his passion, and resurrection, and also his\nascension, and was great with God, yet God would not suffer him to build\na temple for him, for he had shed man's blood. But God said to him, his\nson that should reign after him should be a man peaceable, and he should\nbuild the temple to God. And when David had reigned forty years king of\nJerusalem, over Judah and Israel, he died in good mind, and was buried\nwith his fathers in the city of David.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SONG OF DAVID\n\n\nHe sang of God, the mighty source\nOf all things, the stupendous force\n  On which all strength depends;\nFrom whose right arm, beneath whose eyes,\nAll period, power, and enterprise\n  Commences, reigns, and ends.\n\nThe world, the clustering spheres he made,\nThe glorious light, the soothing shade,\n  Dale, champaign, grove, and hill:\nThe multitudinous abyss,\nWhere secrecy remains in bliss,\n  And wisdom hides her skill.\n\nTell them, I AM, Jehovah said\nTo Moses: while Earth heard in dread,\n  And, smitten to the heart,\nAt once, above, beneath, around,\nAll Nature, without voice or sound,\n  Replied, \"O Lord, THOU ART.\"\n\n_--C. Smart_\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF A CUP OF WATER\n\nBY THEODORE T. MUNGER\n\n[From \"Lamps and Paths,\" by courtesy of Houghton, Mifflin & Co.]\n\nBe noble! and the nobleness that lies\nIn other men, sleeping, but never dead,\nWill rise in majesty to meet thine own.\n\n--James Russell Lowell: _Sonnet IV_\n\nRestore to God his due in tithe and time:\n  A tithe purloined cankers the whole estate.\nSundays observe: think, when the bells do chime,\n  'Tis angels' music; therefore come not late.\nGod there deals blessings. If a king did so,\nWho would not haste, nay give, to see the show?\n\n--George Herbert\n\n  O Lord, that lends me life,\nLend me a heart replete with thankfulness!\n\n_--King Henry VI.,_ Part II.; i. I\n\n_\"And David longed, and said, Oh that one would give me drink of the\nwater of the well of Bethlehem, that is at the gate! And the three brake\nthrough the host of the Philistines, and drew water out of the well of\nBethlehem, that was by the gate, and took it and brought it to David:\nbut David would not drink of it, but poured it out to the Lord, and\nsaid, My God forbid it me, that I should do this thing: shall I drink\nthe blood of these men that have put their lives in jeopardy? for with\nthe jeopardy of their lives they brought it. Therefore he would not\ndrink it.\"_--I Chronicles xi. 17-19\n\n\nIf any of my young friends ask why I have read this long-time-ago\nBible-story as a text for a sermon to-day, I will not only answer, but\nthank them for the question; for nothing helps a speaker at the start so\nmuch as a straight, intelligent question. I have read this story from\nthe Chronicles, because I want to connect this beautiful occasion with\nsome beautiful thing in the Bible; for beautiful things go together.\n\nMy main object and desire in this service is to have everything\nbeautiful and pure and high. For I know how well you will remember this\nday in after years; I know how every feature and incident is imprinting\nitself upon your minds; I know how, twenty and forty years hence, when\nwe older ones will be dead and gone, and you will be scattered far and\nwide, some in the great cities--New York, Chicago, St. Louis--some in\nCalifornia, and some further off still--I know how, on quiet June\nSundays years hence, you will recall this Festival of Flowers in North\nAdams. You may be in some of the great cities, or on the broad prairies,\nor among the park-like forests of the Sierra, or in Puget Sound, but you\nwill never forget this day. These familiar walls; this pulpit and font\nand chancel decked with flowers; this service, made _for_ you and in\npart _by_ you--you will never forget it. And because you will always\nremember it, I want to have it throughout just as beautiful, just as\npure and inspiring, as possible. The flowers will do their part; they\nnever fail to speak sweet, pure words to us. Your Superintendent always\ndoes his part well, and I hope you will all thank him in your hearts, if\nnot in words, for his faithful and laborious interest in you. And your\nteachers and others who have brought together this wealth of beauty,\nthis glory of color and perfume, this tribute of sweetness from\nmountain-side and field and garden--they have done well; and you will\nremember it all years hence, and when far away, and perhaps some tears\nwill start for \"the days that are no more.\"\n\nBut this occasion would not be complete to my mind if there were not\nlinked with it some noble and inspiring trutn. I want to make all these\nflowers and this music the setting of a truth, like a diamond set round\nwith emeralds, or an opal with pearls. _You_ have brought the pearls and\nthe emeralds; _I_ must bring a diamond or an opal to set in the midst of\nthem. I am very sure that I have one in this old story--a diamond very\nbrilliant if we brush away the old Hebrew dust, and cut away the sides\nand let in a little more light upon it. I am not sure, however, but I\nought to call it a pearl rather than a diamond; for there is a chaste\nand gentle modesty about it that reminds one of the soft lustre of a\npearl rather than of the flashing splendor of a diamond. St. John, in\nnaming the precious stones that make the foundation of the heavenly\ncity, omits the diamond--and for some good reason, I suspect--while the\ntwelve gates were all pearls. Now, I think David stood very near one of\nthose gates of pearl at the time of this story. To my mind, it is nearly\nthe most beautiful in all this Book; and I know you will listen while I\ntell it more fully.\n\nI have this impression of David--that if you had seen him when he was\nyoung, you would have thought him the most glorious human being you had\never looked on. He was one of those persons who fascinate all who come\nnear them. He bound everybody to him in a wonderful way. They not only\n_liked_ him, but they became absorbed in him, and were ready to obey\nhim, and serve him, and to give themselves up to him in every way\npossible. I am not at all surprised that Saul's son and daughter and\nSaul himself fell in love with, and could hardly live without, him. It\nwas so all along; and even after he became an old man everybody was\nfascinated by him--even his old uncles--and stood ready to do his\nbidding and consult his wishes.\n\nIt was somewhat so with Richard Coeur de Lion and Napoleon and Mary\nStuart and Alexander and Julius C\u00e6sar; but the personal fascination of\nnone of these persons was so great as that of David. In some respects he\nwas no greater than some of these; but he had a broader and more lovable\nnature than any of them, for he had what not one of them had in anything\nlike the same degree--a great and noble generosity. David deserved all\nthe love that was lavished upon him, because--let men love him ever so\nmuch--he loved more in return.\n\nThere was not apparently, at this early time of his life, one grain of\nselfishness about him. You know that the word _chivalry_ was not used\ntill about a thousand years back, while David lived almost three times\nas long ago; but he was one of the most _chivalrous_ men that ever\nlived. By chivalry I mean a union of honor, purity, religion, nobleness,\nbravery, and devotion to a cause or person. David excited this chivalric\ndevotion in others because he had so much of it in himself. And here I\nwill stop a moment just to say that if you want to awaken any feeling\nin another toward yourself, you must first have it in yourself. I think\nthere is a very general notion that in order to awaken admiration and\nlove and regard in others one must have a fine appearance. There is a\ngreat deal of misplaced faith in fine clothes and bright eyes and clear\ncomplexions and pretty features; but I have yet to learn that these ever\nwin genuine love and admiration. And so far as I have observed, a true\nsentiment only grows out of a corresponding sentiment; feeling comes\nfrom feeling; in short, others come at last to feel toward us just about\nas we feel toward them. And I never knew a person, young or old, to show\na kind, generous, hearty disposition to others who was not surrounded by\nfriends. And I have seen--I know not how many--selfish and unobliging\nand unsympathetic persons go friendless all their days in spite of\nwealth and fine appearance. Now, put this away in your memory to think\nof hereafter.\n\nIt was David's great-heartedness that bound others to him. At the time\nof this story he was a sort of outlaw, driven without any good reason\nfrom the court of Saul. But he was a man of too much spirit to allow\nhimself to be tamely killed, and he loved Saul and his family too well\nto actually make war upon him, and he was too good a patriot to give\ntrouble to his country--a pretty hard place he had to fill, I can assure\nyou. But he was equal to it, and simply bided his time, drawing off into\nthe wild and rocky regions where he could hide and also protect himself.\nBut he was not a man whom people would leave alone. The magnetic power\nthat was in him drew kindred spirits, and some that were not kindred who\nfound it pleasanter to follow a chief in the wilds than to live in the\ndull quiet of their homes. But the greater part of them were brave,\ngenerous, devoted souls, who had come to the conclusion that to live\nwith David and fight his battles and share his fortunes was more\nenjoyable than to plod along under Saul and his petty tyrannies. There\nwere, in particular, eleven men of the tribe of Gad--mountaineers--fierce\nas lions and swift as roes, terrible men in battle, and full of devotion\nto David. In this way he got together quite a little army, which he used\nto defend the borders from the Philistines, who were a thieving set, and\nalso to defend himself in case Saul troubled him. It was not exactly the\nbest sort of a life for a man to live; and had not David been a person\nof very high principles, his followers would have been a band of robbers\nliving on the country. But David prevented that, and made them as useful\nas was possible. His headquarters were at the cave of Adullam, or what\nis now called Engedi. While here, the Philistines came on a foraging\nexpedition as far as Bethlehem, and with so large a force that David and\nhis few followers were shut up in their fortress--for how long we do not\nknow--probably for some days. It was very dull and wearisome business,\nimprisoned in a rocky defile and unable to do anything, while the\nPhilistines were stealing the harvests that grew on the very spot where\nhe had spent his boyhood.\n\nIt was then that what has always seemed to me a very touching and\nbeautiful trait of David's character showed itself, and that is--_a\nfeeling of homesickness_. Now, there is very little respect to be had\nfor a person who is not capable of homesickness. To give up to it may be\nweak, but to be incapable of it is a bad sign. But in David it took a\nvery poetic form. Close by was the home where he was born. There, in\nBethlehem, he had passed the dreamy years of his childhood and youth\namid the love of his parents and brothers, whom he now had with him;\nthere he fed his sheep and sang to his harp; and there, morning and\nevening, he gathered with others about the well--the meeting-place of\nhis companions--loved with all the passionate energy of his nature, and\nstill loved in spite of the troublous times that had come upon him. As\nDavid broods over these memories, he longs with a yearning, homesick\nfeeling for Bethlehem and its well. And, like a poet as he was, he\nconceives that if he could but drink of its water, it would relieve this\nfeverish unrest and longing for the past. It was a very natural feeling.\nYou are too young to know what it means; but we who are older think of\nthese little things in a strange, yearning way. It is the little things\nof childhood that we long for--to lie under the roof on which we heard\nthe rain patter years and years ago; to gather fruit in the old orchard;\nto fish in the same streams; to sit on the same rock, or under the same\nelm or maple, and see the sun go down behind the same old hills; to\ndrink from the same spring that refreshed us in summer days that will\nnot come again--_you_ are too young for this, but we who are older know\nwell how David felt. He was not a man to hide his feelings, and so he\nuttered his longing for the water of the well by the gate of Bethlehem.\nHis words are overheard; and three of these terrible followers of\nhis--fierce as lions and fleet as deer--took their swords and fought\ntheir way through the Philistines, slaying we know not how many, and\nbrought back some of the water. It was enough for _them_ that David\nwanted it.\n\nNow, some people would say that it was very foolish and sentimental of\nDavid to be indulging in such a whim, and still more foolish in these\nmen to gratify it at the risk of their lives; but I think there is a\nbetter way of looking at it. If David had _required_ them to procure the\nwater at the risk of their lives, it would have been very wrong; but the\nwhole thing was unknown to him till the water was brought. I prefer to\nregard it as an act of splendid heroism, prompted by chivalric devotion,\nand I will not stop to consider whether or not it was sensible and\nprudent. And I want to say to you that whenever you see or hear of an\naction that has these qualities of heroism and generosity and devotion,\nit is well to admire and praise it, whether it will bear the test of\ncold reason or not. I hope your hearts will never get to be so dry and\nhard that they will not beat responsive to brave and noble deeds, even\nif they are not exactly prudent.\n\nBut David took even a higher view of this brave and tender act of his\nlion-faced, deer-footed followers. It awoke his religious feelings; for\nour sense of what is noble and generous and brave lies very close to\nour religious sensibilities. The whole event passes, in David's mind,\ninto the field of religion; and so what does he do? Drink the water, and\npraise his three mighty warriors, and bid them never again run such\nrisks to gratify his chance wishes? No. David looks a great deal further\ninto the matter than this. The act seemed to him to have a religious\ncharacter; its devotion was so complete and unselfish that it became\nsacred. He felt what I have just said--that a brave and devoted act that\nincurs danger is almost if not quite a religious act. And so he treats\nit in a religious way. He is anxious to separate it from himself,\nalthough done for him, and get it into a service done for God; and he\nmay have thought that he had himself been a little selfish. To his mind\nit would have been a mean and low repayment to these men to drink their\nwater with loud praises of their valor. They had done a Godlike deed,\nand so he will transfer it to God, and make it an act as between them\nand God. I do not know that those lion-faced, deer-footed warriors\nunderstood or appreciated his treatment of their act; but David himself\nvery well knew what he was about, and you can see that he acted in a\nvery high and true way. He will not drink the water, but pours it out\nunto the Lord, and lets it sink into the ground unused, and, because\nunused, a sort of sacrifice and offering to God. Water got with such\nvalor and risk was not for man, but for God. Much less was it right to\nuse it to gratify a dreamy whim that had in it perhaps just a touch of\nselfishness. The bravery and danger had made the water sacred, and so\nhe will make a sacred use of it.\n\nIf any one thinks that David was carried away by sentimentality, or that\nhe was overscrupulous, one has only to recall how, when _actually_ in\nwant, he took the consecrated bread from the Tabernacle at Nob, and ate\nit and gave it to his followers. His strong common-sense told him that\neven consecrated bread was not too good for hungry men; but that same\nfine common-sense told him that water procured at the risk of life, when\nnot actually wanted, had become sacred, and had better be turned into a\nsort of prayer and offering to God than wantonly drunk.\n\nAnd now, having the story well in mind, I will close by drawing out from\nit one or two lessons that seem to me very practical.\n\nSuppose we were to ask, Who acted in the noblest way--the three strong\nmen who got the water, or David, who made a sacrifice or libation of it?\nIt does not take us long to answer. The real greatness of the whole\naffair was with the three men, though David put a beautiful meaning upon\nit, and exalted it to its true place. Their act was very brave and\nlofty; but David crowned it with its highest grace by carrying it on\ninto religion--that is, by setting it before God.\n\nI see a great many people who are living worthy lives, doing a great\nmany kind acts and rendering beautiful services, but do not take God\ninto their thoughts, nor render their services as unto Him. I think\neverybody must see that this act of these lion-faced men was more\ncomplete when David took it before God than as rendered for himself.\nWhy, it might take long to tell; but, briefly, it was because the\nnameless grace of religion has been added to it, and because it was\nconnected with that great, dear Name that hallows everything brought\nunder it.\n\nMany of you have brought here offerings of flowers, sweet and fit for\nthis day and place and purpose. Some may have brought them simply with\nthe thought of helping out the occasion, or to please your teacher, or\nbecause it is beautiful in itself to heap up beauty in this large way;\nbut if, as you worked here yesterday, or brought your flowers to-day,\nyour thoughts silently rose to God, saying, \"These are for _Thy_\naltars--this glory of tint and perfume is not for us, but for\n_Thee_\"--then, I think, every poet, every person of fine feeling, every\ntrue thinker, would say that the latter is more beautiful than the\nformer. I hate to see a life that does not take hold of God; I hate to\nsee fine acts and brave lives and noble dispositions and generous\nemotions that do not reach up into a sense of God; I hate to see\npersons--and I see a great many such nowadays--striving after beautiful\nlives and true sentiments and large thoughts without ever a word of\nprayer, or thought of God, or anything to show they love and venerate\nChrist. I hate to see it, both because they might rise so much higher\nand because at last it fails; for God must enter into every thought and\nsentiment and purpose in order to make it genuine, and truly beautiful,\nand altogether right. That God may be in your thoughts; that you may\nlearn to confess Him in all your ways, to serve and fear and know and\nlove him--this is the wish with which I greet you to-day, and the prayer\nthat I offer in your behalf.\n\nI found, the other day, some lines by Faber--a Catholic poet--so\nbeautifully giving this last thought of our sermon that I will read them\nto you:\n\n\"Oh God! who wert my childhood's love,\n  My boyhood's pure delight,\nA presence felt the livelong day,\n  A welcome fear at night,\n\n\"I know not what I thought of Thee;\n  What picture I had made\nOf that Eternal Majesty\n  To whom my childhood prayed.\n\n\"With age Thou grewest more divine,\n  More glorious than before;\nI feared Thee with a deeper fear,\n  Because I loved Thee more.\n\n\"Thou broadenest out with every year\n  Each breath of life to meet.\nI scarce can think Thou art the same,\n  Thou art so much more sweet.\n\n\"Father! what hast Thou grown to now?\n  A joy all joys above,\nSomething more sacred than a fear,\n  More tender than a love.\n\n\"With gentle swiftness lead me on,\n  Dear God! to see Thy face;\nAnd meanwhile in my narrow heart,\n  Oh, make Thyself more space.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF SOLOMON\n\n\nAfter David, reigned Solomon his son, which was in the beginning a good\nman and walked in the ways and laws of God. And all the kings about him\nmade peace with him and was king confirmed, obeyed and peaceable in his\npossession, and according to his father's commandment did justice. First\non Joab that had been prince of his father's host, because he slew two\ngood men by treason and guile, that was Abner the son of Ner, and Amasa\nthe son of Ithra. And Joab was afeard and dreaded Solomon, and fled into\nthe Tabernacle of our Lord and held the end of the altar. And Solomon\nsent Benaiah and slew him there, and after buried him in his house in\ndesert. And after this on a night as he lay in his bed after he had\nsacrificed to our Lord in Gibeon, our Lord appeared to him in his sleep\nsaying to him: Ask and demand what thou wilt that I may give to thee.\nAnd Solomon said: Lord, thou hast done to my father great mercy; because\nhe walked in thy ways in truth, justice, and a rightful heart, thou hast\nalways kept for him thy great mercy, and hast given to him a son sitting\nupon this throne as it is this day. And now Lord thou hast made me thy\nservant to reign for my father David. I am a little child and know not\nmy going out and entering in, and I thy servant am set in the middle of\nthe people that thou hast chosen which be infinite, and may not be\nnumbered for multitude; therefore Lord give to me thy servant a heart\ndocile and taught in wisdom that may judge thy people, and discern\nbetween good and evil. Who may judge this people, thy people that be so\nmany? This request and demand pleased much unto God that Solomon had\nasked such a thing. And God said to Solomon: Because thou hast required\nand asked this and hast not asked long life, ne riches, ne the souls of\nthine enemies, but hast asked sapience and wisdom to discern doom and\njudgment, I have given to thee after thy desire and request, and I have\ngiven to thee a wise heart and understanding insomuch that there was\nnever none such tofore, ne never after shall be. And also those things\nthat thou hast not asked I have given also to thee, that is to say\nriches and glory, that no man shall be like to thee among all the kings\nthat shall be after thy days. If thou walk in my ways and keep my\nprecepts and observe my commandments as thy father walked, I shall make\nthy days long. After this Solomon awoke and came to Jerusalem, and stood\ntofore the Ark of our Lord and offered sacrifices and victims unto our\nLord, and made a great feast unto all his servants and household. Then\ncame tofore him two women, of which that one said: I beseech thee my\nlord hear me; this woman and I dwelled together in one house, and I was\ndelivered of a child in my cubicle [sleeping room], and the third day\nafter she bare a child, and was also delivered, and we were together\nand none other in the house but we twain, and it was so that this\nwoman's son was dead in the night; for she sleeping, overlaid and\noppressed him, and she arose in the darkest of the night privily, and\ntook my son from the side of me thy servant and laid him by her, and her\nson that was dead she laid by me. When I arose in the morning for to\ngive milk to my son it appeared dead, whom I took beholding him\ndiligently in the clear light, understood well anon that it was not my\nson that I had borne. The other woman answered and said: It was not so\nas thou sayest, but my son liveth and thine is dead. And contrary that\nother said: Thou liest: my son liveth and thine is dead. Thus in this\nwise they strove tofore the king. Then the king said: This woman saith\nmy son liveth and thine is dead, and this answereth Nay, but thy son is\ndead, and mine liveth. Then the king said: Bring to me here a sword.\nWhen they had brought forth a sword the king said: Divide ye, said he,\nthe living child in two parts, and give that one half to that one, and\nthat other half to that other. Then said the woman that was mother of\nthe living child to the king, for all her members and bowels were moved\nupon her son: I beseech and pray thee, my lord, give to her the child\nalive, and slay him not, and contrary said that other woman: Let it not\nbe given to me ne to thee, but let it be divided. The king then answered\nand said: Give the living child to this woman, and let it not be slain;\nthis is verily the mother. All Israel heard how wisely the king had\ngiven this sentence and dreaded him, seeing that the wisdom of God was\nin him in deeming of rightful dooms.\n\nAfter this Solomon sent his messengers to divers kings for cedar trees\nand for workmen, for to make and build a temple unto our Lord. Solomon\nwas rich and glorious, and all the realms from the river of the ends of\nthe Philistines unto the end of Egypt were accorded with him, and\noffered to him gifts and to serve him all the days of his life. Solomon\nhad daily for the meat of his household thirty measures, named chores,\nof corn, and sixty of meal, ten fat oxen, and twenty oxen of pasture and\nan hundred wethers, without venison that was taken, as harts, goats,\nbubals, and other flying fowls and birds. He obtained all the region\nthat was from Tiphsa unto Azza, and had peace with all the kings of all\nthe realms that were in every part round about him. In that time Israel\nand Judah dwelled without fear and dread, every each under his vine and\nfig tree from Dan unto Beersheba.\n\nSolomon had forty thousand racks for the horses of his carts, chariots\nand cars, and twelve thousand for horses to ride on, by which prefects\nbrought necessary things for the table of King Solomon, with great\ndiligence in their time. God gave to Solomon much wisdom and prudence in\nhis heart, like to the gravel that is in the sea-side, and the sapience\nand wisdom of Solomon passed and went tofore the sapience of all them of\nthe Orient and of Egypt, and he was the wisest of all men, and so he was\nnamed. He spake three thousand parables, and five thousand songs, and\ndisputed upon all manner trees and virtue of them, from the cedar that\nis in Lebanon unto the hissop that groweth on the wall, and discerned\nthe properties of beasts, fowls, reptiles and fishes, and there came\npeople from all regions of the world for to hear the wisdom of Solomon,\n\nAnd Solomon sent letters to Hiram, king of Tyre, for to have his men to\ncut cedar trees with his servants, and he would yield to them their hire\nand meed, and let him wit how that he would build and edify a temple to\nour Lord. And Hiram sent to him that he should have all that he desired,\nand sent to him cedar trees and other wood. And Solomon sent to him corn\nin great number, and Solomon and Hiram confederated them together in\nlove and friendship. Solomon chose out workmen of all Israel the number\nof thirty thousand men of whom he sent to Lebanon ten thousand every\nmonth, and when ten thousand went the others came home, and so two\nmonths were they at home, and Adonias was overseer and commander on\nthem. Solomon had seventy thousand men that did nothing but bear stone\nand mortar and other things to the edifying of the temple, and were\nbearers of burdens only, and he had eighty thousand of hewers of stone\nand masons in the mountain, without the prefects and masters, which were\nthree thousand three hundred that did nothing but command and oversee\nthem that wrought. Solomon commanded the workmen to make square stones,\ngreat and precious, for to lay in the foundament, which the masons of\nIsrael and masons of Hiram hewed, and the carpenters made ready the\ntimber.\n\nThen began Solomon the temple to our Lord, in the fourth year of his\nreign he began to build the temple. The house that he builded had\nseventy cubits in length, and twenty cubits in breadth, and thirty in\nheight, and the porch tofore the temple was twenty cubits long after the\nmeasure of the breadth of the temple, and had ten cubits of breadth\ntofore the face of the temple, and for to write the curiosity and work\nof the temple, and the necessaries, the tables and cost that was done in\ngold, silver and latten, it passeth my cunning to express and English\nthem. Ye that be clerks may see it in the Second Book of Kings and the\nSecond Book of Paralipomenon. It is wonder to hear the costs and\nexpenses that was made in that temple, but I pass over. It was on making\nseven years, and his palace was thirteen years ere it was finished. He\nmade in the temple an altar of pure gold, and a table to set on the\nloaves of proposition of gold, five candlesticks of gold on the right\nside and five on the left side, and many other things, and took all the\nvessels of gold and silver that his father David had sanctified and\nhallowed, and brought them into the treasury of the house of our Lord.\nAfter this he assembled all the noblest and greatest of birth of them of\nIsrael, with the princes of the tribes and dukes of the families, for to\nbring the Ark of God from the city of David, Sion, into the temple. And\nthe priests and Levites took the Ark and bare it and all the vessels of\nthe sanctuary that were in the tabernacle. King Solomon, with all the\nmultitude of the children that were there, went tofore the Ark and\noffered sheep and oxen without estimation and number.\n\nAnd the priests set the Ark in the house of our Lord in the oracle of\nthe temple, in sancta sanctorum, under the wings of cherubim. In the ark\nwas nothing but the two tables of Moses of stone which Moses had put in.\nAnd then Solomon blessed our Lord tofore all the people, and thanked him\nthat he had suffered him to make an house unto his name, and besought\nour Lord that he whosomever prayed our Lord for any petition in that\ntemple, that he of his mercy would hear him and be merciful to him. And\nour Lord appeared to him when the edifice was accomplished perfectly,\nand said to Solomon: I have heard thy prayer and thine oration that thou\nhast prayed tofore me. I have sanctified and hallowed this house that\nthou hast edified for to put my name therein for evermore, and my eyes\nand heart shall be thereon always. And if thou walk before me like as\nthy father walked in the simplicity of heart and in equity, and wilt do\nall that I have commanded thee, and keep my judgments and laws, I shall\nset the throne of thy reign upon Israel evermore, like as I have said to\nthy father David, saying: There shall not be taken away a man of thy\ngeneration from the reign and seat of Israel. If ye avert and turn from\nme, ye and your sons, not following ne keeping my commandments and\nceremonies that I have showed tofore you, but go and worship strange\ngods, and honor them, I shall cast away Israel from the face of the\nearth that I have given to them, and the temple that I have hallowed to\nmy name, I shall cast it away from my sight. And it shall be a fable and\nproverb, and thy house an example shall be to all people; every man that\nshall go thereby shall be abashed and astonied, and shall say: Why hath\nGod done thus to this land and to thy house? And they shall answer: For\nthey have forsaken their Lord God that brought them out of the land of\nEgypt, and have followed strange gods, and them adored and worshipped,\nand therefore God hath brought on them all this evil: here may every man\ntake ensample how perilous and dreadful it is to break the commandment\nof God.\n\nTwenty years after that Solomon had edified the temple of God and his\nhouse, and finished it perfectly, Hiram the king of Tyre went for to see\ntowns that Solomon had given to him, and they pleased him not. Hiram had\nsent to King Solomon an hundred and twenty besants of gold, which he had\nspent on the temple and his house, and on the wall of Jerusalem and\nother towns and places that he had made. Solomon was rich and glorious\nthat the fame ran, of his sapience and wisdom and of his building and\ndispense in his house, through the world, insomuch that the queen of\nSheba came from far countries to see him and to tempt him in demands and\nquestions. And she came into Jerusalem with much people and riches, with\ncamels charged with aromatics and gold infinite. And she came and spake\nto King Solomon all that ever she had in her heart. And Solomon taught\nher in all that ever she purposed tofore him. She could say nothing but\nthat the king answered to her, there was nothing hid from him. The queen\nof Sheba then seeing all the wisdom of Solomon, the house that he had\nbuilded, and the meat and service of his table, the habitacles of his\nservants, the order of the ministers, their clothing and array, his\nbutlers and officers, and the sacrifices that he offered in the house of\nour Lord, when she saw all these things, she had no spirit to answer,\nbut she said to King Solomon: The word is true that I heard in my land,\nof thy words and thy wisdom, and I believed not them that told it to me,\nunto the time that I myself came and have seen it with mine eyes, and I\nhave now well seen and proved that the half was not told to me. Thy\nsapience is more, and thy works also, than the tidings that I heard.\nBlessed be thy servants, and blessed be these that stand always tofore\nthee and hear thy sapience and wisdom, and thy Lord God be blessed whom\nthou hast pleased, and hath set thee upon the throne of Israel, for so\nmuch as God of Israel loveth thee and hath ordained thee a king for to\ndo righteousness and justice. She gave then to the king an hundred and\ntwenty besants of gold, many aromatics, and gems precious. There were\nnever seen tofore so many aromatics ne so sweet odors smelling as the\nqueen of Sheba gave to King Solomon.\n\nKing Solomon gave to the queen of Sheba all that ever she desired and\ndemanded of him, and after returned into her country and land. The\nweight of pure gold that was offered every year to Solomon was six\nhundred and sixty-six talents of gold, except that that the merchants\noffered, and all they that sold, and all the kings of Arabia and dukes\nof that land. Solomon made two hundred shields of the purest gold and\nset them in the house of Lebanon; he made him also a throne of ivory\nwhich was great and was clad with gold, which had six grees or steps,\nwhich was richly wrought with two lions of gold holding the seat above,\nand twelve small lions standing upon the steps, on every each twain,\nhere and there. There was never such a work in no realm. And all the\nvessels that King Solomon drank of were of gold, and the ceiling of the\nhouse of Lebanon in which his shields of gold were in was of the most\npure gold. Silver was of no price in the days of King Solomon, for the\nnavy of the king, with the navy of Hiram, went in three years once into\nTarsis and brought them thence gold and silver, teeth of elephants and\ngreat riches. The King Solomon was magnified above all the kings of the\nworld in riches and wisdom, and all the world desired to see the cheer\nand visage of Solomon, and to hear his wisdom that God had given to him.\nEvery man brought to him gifts, vessels of gold and silver, clothes and\narmor for war, aromatics, horses and mules every year. Solomon gathered\ntogether chariots and horsemen; he had a thousand four hundred chariots\nand cars, and twelve thousand horsemen, and were lodged in small cities\nand towns about Jerusalem by the king. There was as great abundance and\nplenty of gold and silver in those days in Jerusalem as stones or\nsycamores that grow in the field, and horses were brought to him from\nEgypt and Chao. What shall I all day write of the riches, glory and\nmagnificence of King Solomon? It was so great that it cannot be\nexpressed, for there was never none like to him, ne never shall none\ncome after him like unto him. He made the book of the parables\ncontaining thirty-one chapters, the book of the Canticles, the book of\nEcclesiastes, containing twelve chapters, and the book of Sapience\ncontaining nineteen chapters. This King Solomon loved overmuch women,\nand specially strange women of other sects; as King Pharaoh's daughters\nand many other of the gentiles. He had seven hundred wives which were as\nqueens, and three hundred concubines, and these women turned his heart.\nFor when he was old he so doted and loved them that they made him honor\ntheir strange gods, and worshipped Ashtareth, Chemosh and Moloch, idols\nof Zidonia, of Moabites, and Ammonites, and made to them Tabernacles for\nto please his wives and concubines, wherefore God was wroth with him,\nand said to him: Because thou hast not observed my precepts and my\ncommandments that I commanded thee, I shall cut thy kingdom and divide\nit and give it to thy servant but not in thy day, I shall not do it for\nlove that I had to David thy father; but from the hand of thy son I\nshall cut it but not all, I shall reserve to him one tribe for David's\nlove, and Jerusalem that I have chosen. And after this divers kings\nbecame adversaries to Solomon, and was never in peace after.\n\nIt is said, but I find it not in the Bible, that Solomon repented him\nmuch of this sin of idolatry and did much penance therefor, for he let\nhim be drawn through Jerusalem and beat himself with rods and scourges,\nthat the blood flowed in the sight of all the people. He reigned upon\nall Israel in Jerusalem forty years, and died and was buried with his\nfathers in the city of David, and Rehoboam his son reigned after him.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF REHOBOAM\n\n\nAfter Solomon, reigned his son Rehoboam. He came to Sichem and thither\ncame all the people for to ordain him king. Jeroboam and all the\nmultitude of Israel spake to Rehoboam, and said: Thy father set on us an\nhard yoke and great impositions, now thou hast not so much need,\ntherefore less it and minish it, and ease us of the great and hard\nburden and we shall serve thee. Rehoboam answered and said: Go ye and\ncome again the third day and ye shall have an answer. When the people\nwas departed, Rehoboam made a counsel of the seniors and old men that\nhad assisted his father Solomon whiles he lived, and said to them: What\nsay ye? and counsel me that I may answer to the people, which said to\nRohoboam: If thou wilt obey and agree to this people, and agree to their\npetition, and speak fair and friendly to them, they shall serve thee\nalways. But Rehoboam forsook the counsel of the old men, and called the\nyoung men that were of his age, and asked of them counsel. And the young\nmen that had been nourished with him bade him say to the people in this\nwise: Is not my finger greater than the back of my father? If my father\nhath laid on you a heavy burden, I shall add and put more to your\nburden; my father beat you with scourges, and I shall beat you with\nscorpions. The third day after, Jeroboam and all the people came to\nRehoboam to have their answer, and Rehoboam left the counsel of the old\nmen, and said to them like as the young men had counselled him. And anon\nthe people of Israel forsook Rehoboam, and of twelve tribes, there abode\nwith him no more but the tribe of Judah and Benjamin. And the other ten\ntribes departed and made Jeroboam their king, and never returned unto\nthe house of David after unto this day. And thus for sin of Solomon, and\nbecause Rehoboam would not do after the counsel of the old men, but was\ncounselled by young men, the ten tribes of Israel forsook him, and\ndeparted from Jerusalem, and served Jeroboam, and ordained him king upon\nIsrael. Anon after this, Jeroboam fell to idolatry and great division\nwas ever after between the kings of Judah and the kings of Israel. And\nso reigned divers kings each after other in Jerusalem after Rehoboam,\nand in Israel after Jeroboam. And here I leave all the history and make\nan end of the book of Kings for this time, etc. For ye that list to know\nhow every king reigned after other, ye may find it in the first chapter\nof Saint Matthew which is read on Christmas day in the morning before Te\nDeum, which is the genealogy of our Lady.\n\n\n\n\nA LITTLE MAID\n\nBY THEODORE T. MUNGER\n\n[From \"Lamps and Paths,\" by courtesy of Houghton, Mifflin & Co.]\n\nIn old days we read of angels who came and took men by the hand, and led\nthem away from the city of Destruction. We see no white-robed angels\nnow; yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a hand is put\ninto theirs, and they are gently guided toward a bright and calm land,\nso that they look no more backward; and the hand may be that of a little\nchild.--GEORGE ELIOT\n\nAs aromatic plants bestow\nNo spicy fragrance while they grow,\nBut crushed, or trodden to the ground,\nDiffuse their balmy sweets around.\n\n--GOLDSMITH: _The Captivity_\n\n_\"Now Naaman, captain of the host of the king of Syria, was a great man\nwith his master, and honorable, because by him the Lord had given\ndeliverance unto Syria: he was also a mighty man in valor, but he was a\nleper. And the Syrians had gone out by companies, and had brought away\ncaptive out of the land of Israel a little maid; and she waited on\nNaaman's wife. And she said unto her mistress. Would God my lord were\nwith the prophet that is in Samaria! for he would recover him of his\nleprosy.\"_--2 KINGS v. 1-3\n\n\nI think upon the whole that old stories are better than new ones; I\nmean, stories of old times. It is perhaps because only the very best are\nremembered while the poorer ones are forgotten, so that those which have\ncome down to us through past ages are the choice ones selected from a\ngreat number that pleased people for a while, but not well nor long\nenough to get fixed in their minds.\n\nOf all old stories, I hardly know a better one than this of Naaman and\nthe little maid from Samaria. It is full of human nature; that is, it\nshows that people acted and felt three thousand years ago just as they\ndo now: they were kind and sympathetic, and proud and grateful and\ncovetous and deceitful, just as people are nowadays. And the story has a\nfine romantic setting; that is, its incidents take hold of our fancy and\ncharm us;--a little girl stolen in war and carried to a foreign country\nand put into the house of a great general, who falls very ill and is\ncured in a wonderful way, and so on. I think it will please us all to\nhear it over again.\n\nSyria and Israel stood to each other very much like Germany and\nSwitzerland. One was a great, rich country, with fine rivers like the\nRhine and Danube, and a capital city so beautiful that it was called\n\"the eye of the East\"; while Israel was a small country, full of\nmountains, and with only one small river that ran nearly dry in summer.\nTo tell the truth, Syria looked down on Israel, and--what is\nworse--often made war on it. In those days war was even more cruel and\nsenseless than it is now; for it was not confined to the armies that\nfought and captured one another, but extended to women and children, who\nwere often seized, carried away from their homes into the country of the\nenemy, and made slaves. It is bad and senseless enough for men to stand\nup and stab one another as they used to in old times, or shoot one\nanother as they do now; but to carry a mother away from her children, or\ntake a little girl away from her home and playmates and make a slave of\nher, is something worse. But it was often done in those ancient days, as\nyou will learn when you read history, and the story of the siege of\nTroy, which sprang out of stealing a beautiful woman.\n\nThere were frequent wars between Syria and Israel. Israel had once\nconquered Syria, and Syria had broken away, and so it went on back and\nforth, year after year. When our story begins, Naaman, a great general,\nhad delivered his country from Israel, and brought home with him a\nlittle Hebrew girl, who was so beautiful and sweet in her ways that he\ngave her to his wife on his return from the war. A strange present, you\nsay, but it proved a very valuable one. It seems to us very cruel. One\nwould think that if Naaman and his wife loved this little girl--and I am\nsure they did--they would have sent her back to her home, for she must\nhave had a heartbreaking time of it at first; but people were not kind\nin that way in those days. Yes, I am sure they loved her and were kind\nto her, for the simple reason that she evidently loved them; and I am\nalso sure that the reason they loved her was that they could not help\nit, as we shall see further on.\n\nNot long after the war, Naaman was attacked with a disease so dreadful\nand repulsive that I cannot describe it to you. Let us be thankful that\nleprosy is unknown here. It is not only incurable, but as it goes on it\nbecomes so terrible that one cannot stay at home with his family, but\nmust go out and live alone, or with other lepers, and wait for death,\nwhich often does not happen for years. It was a sad time for the great\nNaaman when he discovered that it had seized him. He felt well and\nstrong, but the fearful signs made it sure. It was a sadder time when he\ntold his wife; for both knew that the day would soon come when they\ncould no longer stay together at home, and that he must leave beautiful\nDamascus, and give up his place in the army, and go off into the\nmountains and live alone, or with others like himself. The saddest\nfeature of all was that there was no hope: all this was sure to take\nplace. If you have ever been in a house where some one is very ill and\nlikely to die, or some terrible accident has occurred, you have felt\nwhat a gloom overhangs it, and have been glad to escape from it and get\nout under the open sky. But our little Hebrew girl could not escape. She\nmust stay through it all, and wait on Naaman's wife, and see her weep\nand Naaman's strong face grow sadder every day. Now I think we shall\nbegin to see what a rare, noble, sweet child this was that we are\ntalking about. What a pity that we do not know her name--for she is a\nnameless child! I would like to call her Anna if I had any right to\nleave off the _H_ that the Hebrews put before and after this beautiful\nname. And I should not change it by turning the _a_ at the close into\n_ie_, as so many young people--and older ones, too, who ought to know\nbetter--are in the habit of doing; for I never could understand why\ngirls with so noble names as Anna and Mary and Helen and Margaret and\nCaroline should change them into the weak and silly forms that we hear\nevery day. This change, which usually shortens the name and ends it with\nan _ie_, is called a _diminutive_, which, according to Worcester, means\n\"a thing little of its kind,\" and so may well enough be used in the\nnursery; but that grown women should use it seems to me foolish and even\nignoble, and I often fear it may indicate a lack of fine sentiment. We\ndo not know the name of our little maiden, but we can safely imagine her\nappearance for two reasons: we know her circumstances and her character.\nIs it not quite sure that when Naaman selected from his captives a\nlittle girl to wait on his wife, he would take the most beautiful one?\nWhen we make presents to those we love, we always get the best we can.\nNow we can go a step further, and ask what made her beautiful _in such a\nway_ that Naaman thought she would please his wife. It must have been\nher sweet and amiable expression; and that came from her character, for\nnothing else can make beauty of this sort. And so we picture her with\nblack, wavy hair and soft, dark eyes, with red cheeks glowing through an\nolive-colored skin, lips like a pomegranate, a sweet, patient, loving\nexpression, and a voice \"gentle and low\" and full of sympathy and\nreadiness. I am very sure about her voice and expression, because I know\nher character. I never have seen any one with a loving and helpful\nspirit who had not a gentle voice and a sweet expression. I think she\nmust have been about twelve years old; for if she had been younger she\nwould not have known all about Elisha, and if older she would not have\nbeen called \"a _little_ maid.\"\n\nWhen the trouble came upon Naaman's family, she felt it grievously, and\nwas more attentive and gentle in her services than ever. Just here she\nshowed the beauty of her character. She had been cruelly wronged--stolen\naway from her country and home, and made a slave without hope of ever\nseeing them again--and so might naturally feel revengeful, and say that\nNaaman's leprosy was a punishment for the wrong he had done her. But\ninstead she pitied him, and in her sympathy with his sufferings forgot\nher own. So, as she brooded on the trouble, she happened to remember one\nday that Elisha had cured people who were very ill, and done many\nwonderful things, and she said to her mistress, \"Would God my lord were\nwith the prophet that is in Samaria! for he would recover him of his\nleprosy.\" Probably Naaman's wife questioned her closely about Elisha,\nand got at all she knew about him, and so heard about the child that\nfell sick among the reapers, and the poor widow whose two sons were to\nbe sold as slaves, and the mantle of Elijah, that Elisha had caught upon\nthe banks of the Jordan, with which he smote the waters. At any rate,\nshe heard enough to awaken some hope, and so told her husband what our\nlittle maid had said. When people are hopelessly ill, they are willing\nto try anything; a drowning man will catch at a straw, and Naaman caught\nat this little straw of hope that the wind of war had blown across his\npath. He thought it over and said to himself, \"It is my only chance; no\none here can do anything for me. I will go down to Samaria and find\nElisha. I have often heard that the prophets there did wonderful things;\nif what the little maid says of the boy among the reapers is true,\nperhaps Elisha can cure me.\" And so he went; but it was very\nhumiliating. He thought of Israel and the little city of Samaria and the\nJordan in a scornful way, comparing them with his splendid Damascus, and\nits green, beautiful plain, thirty miles wide, and the great river\nAbana, that gushed from the side of the mountain, and flowed through and\nall about the city, making the whole country one vast garden. He\ndespised, too, the people of Israel. They were rude and poor and\nignorant, while his own people were rich and cultivated. Perhaps he had\nborne himself proudly when he was at war there; and now to go back and\nask favors--to ask for himself what he could not get at home--was\nhumiliating indeed. But he made the best of it; and to cover his pride\nand make it seem as though he were not asking favors, he took with him\nan immense amount of silver and gold, and ten suits of raiment--perhaps\nof linen _damask_, that was first made in Damascus.\n\nI shall not follow the story further, except to say that because Naaman\nwent in such a proud spirit, Elisha used every means to make him humble.\nHe seemed to be anxious to send Naaman home, not only a well, but a\nbetter man, and to teach him that there were other things to be thought\nof than great rivers, and fine cities, and temples of Rimmon.\nEspecially he wanted to teach him that the one, true God could make a\nsmall, rough nation greater and stronger than one that worshipped idols.\nNaaman went home cured of his leprosy, with some earth to make an altar\nof, and all his gold and silver and fine garments, except what the\nfoolish Gehazi got from him by lying. How Naaman proposed to act when he\nshould get home and be forced to go with the king into the temple of\nRimmon, you will find discussed in the second chapter of the second part\nof \"School Days at Rugby.\" My opinion is that Elisha told him he must\nsettle that matter with his own conscience; but I can imagine that when\nhe had worshipped God before the altar built of the earth brought from\nthe Jordan, and then went into the temple of Rimmon and did what the\nking did, his conscience must have troubled him.\n\nBut I care a great deal more for our little maid than for Naaman. I\nwonder what became of her. If Naaman did what he ought, he sent her back\nto her home, and gave her all the gold and silver he had offered to\nElisha. I am quite inclined to believe this for several reasons. Naaman\nwas a _reasonable_ man. When he was told to \"go and wash himself seven\ntimes in Jordan,\" he was surprised and angry, because it was so\ndifferent from what he had expected, and because he thought it was an\ninsult to his own great rivers. But when his servants reminded him that\nit was just as easy to do a little thing as a great thing, he saw the\nwisdom of it, and let good sense triumph over pride. He was also a\n_generous_ man, as the gifts he offered to Elisha show. And he was\n_conscientious_, or he would not have asked Elisha about bowing down in\nthe temple of Rimmon as a part of his duty to the king. All through he\nshowed himself _grateful_. Yes; I think he went back to Syria not only\nwith \"the flesh of a little child,\" but with a child's heart. And\nbecause he was reasonable and generous and conscientious and grateful,\nhe did not forget the little maid who was at the bottom of the whole\naffair. He owed quite as much to her as to Elisha; for people who start\ngood enterprises deserve more praise and reward than those who carry\nthem out. So, when he reached home and met his wife and children--why,\nit was almost like coming back from the dead!--his first thought must\nhave been of the little maid. We can imagine the great Naaman taking her\nin his arms with tears, and saying, \"What can I do for you, my little\nmaid? Tell me what you most want, and I will give it to you, even if it\nis the half of my possessions.\" We know that Eastern princes often said\nsuch things when their fancy or their gratitude was deeply stirred; they\ngave full course to all their feelings, good and bad. Perhaps she had\nbecome fond of Naaman's wife, and would like to stay with her. Perhaps\nthey told her they would adopt her, and clothe her with rich damask and\njewels of gold and silver. But I doubt if she was a child who cared more\nfor such things than for her parents and her home. And as she heard the\nstory of Naaman's cure, and of Elisha and the Jordan, her mind went back\nto her native land and to her home, and a great longing filled her\nheart to see it again, and to live the old life with her parents and\nbrothers and sisters. The Jews do not easily forget their country nor\ntheir families; and this little maid was a true Jewess. It might be a\nfine thing to live in a palace and wear jewels, but she would rather go\nhome, and tend the sheep and goats, and pick the grapes, and go to the\nfountain for water. Perhaps she had lived on the slope of Hermon, where\nthe dew fell heavily every night, and the brooks ran full all summer;\nfor Naaman's march home led near it.\n\nWe found her in Damascus a slave; but we will leave her at home among\nthe vines and flowers and kids, with father and mother and mates, for\nsh'e was a child who lived in her affections rather than in her\nambitions.\n\nThe chief thing she teaches us is the beauty and blessedness of\nreturning good for evil. Long before Christ's day she was Christ's own\nchild; for she loved her enemies, and prayed for those who had\npersecuted her.\n\n\n\n\nHERE FOLLOWETH THE HISTORY OF JOB\n\n_Read on the first Sunday of September_\n\n\nThere was a man in the land of Uz named Job, and this man was simple,\nrightful and dreading God, and going from all evil. He had seven sons\nand three daughters, and his possession was seven thousand sheep, three\nthousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, five hundred asses, and his\nfamily and household passing much and great. He was a great man and rich\namong all the men of the orient. And his sons went daily each to other\nhouse making great feasts, ever each one as his day came, and they sent\nfor their three sisters for to eat and drink with them. When they had\nthus feasted each other, Job sent to them and blessed and sanctified\nthem, and rising every day early, he offered sacrifices for them all,\nsaying: Lest my children sin and bless not God in their hearts. And thus\ndid Job every day.\n\nOn a day when the sons of God were tofore our Lord, Satan came and was\namong them, to whom our Lord said: Whence comest thou? Which answered, I\nhave gone round about the earth and through walked it. Our Lord said to\nhim: Hast thou not considered my servant Job, that there is none like\nunto him in the earth, a man simple, rightful, dreading God, and going\nfrom evil? To whom Satan answered: Doth Job dread God idly? If so were\nthat thou overthrewest him, his house and all his substance round about,\nhe should soon forsake thee. Thou hast blest the work of his hands, and\nhis possession is increased much in the earth, but stretch out thy hand\na little, and touch all that he hath in possession, and he shall soon\ngrudge and not bless thee. Then said our Lord to Satan: Lo! all that\nwhich he owneth and hath in possession, I will it be in thy hand and\npower, but on his person ne body set not thy hand. Satan departed and\nwent from the face of our Lord. On a day as his sons and daughters ate,\nand drank wine, in the house of the oldest brother, there came a\nmessenger to Job which said: The oxen eared in the plough and the ass\npastured in the pasture by them, and the men of Sabea ran on them, and\nsmote thy servants, and slew them with sword, and I only escaped for to\ncome and to show it to thee. And whiles he spake came another and said:\nThe fire of God fell down from heaven and hath burned thy sheep and\nservants and consumed them, and I only escaped for to come and show it\nto thee. And yet whiles he spake came another and said: The Chaldees\nmade three hosts and have enveigled thy camels and taken them, and have\nslain thy servants with sword, and I only escaped for to bring thee\nword. And yet he speaking another entered in and said: Thy sons and\ndaughters, drinking wine in the house of thy first begotten son,\nsuddenly came a vehement wind from the region of desert and smote the\nfour corners of the house, which falling oppressed thy children, and\nthey be all dead, and I only fled for to tell it to thee. Then Job\narose, and cut his coat, and did do shave his head, and falling down to\nthe ground, worshipped and adored God, saying: I am come out naked from\nthe womb of my mother and naked shall return again thereto. Our Lord\nhath given and our Lord hath taken away, as it hath pleased our Lord, so\nit is done, the name of our Lord be blessed. In all these things Job\nsinned not with his lips, ne spake nothing follily against our Lord, but\ntook it all patiently.\n\nAfter this it was so that on a certain day when the children of God\nstood tofore our Lord, Satan came and stood among them, and God said to\nhim: Whence comest thou? To whom Satan answered: I have gone round the\nearth, and walked through it. And God said to Satan, Hast thou not\nconsidered my servant Job that there is no man like him in the earth, a\nman simple, rightful, dreading God, and going from evil, and yet\nretaining his innocency? Thou hast moved me against him that I should\nput him to affliction without cause. To whom Satan said: Skin for skin,\nand all that ever a man hath he shall give for his soul. Nevertheless,\nstretch thine hand and touch his mouth and his flesh, and thou shalt see\nthat he shall not bless thee. Then said God to Satan: I will well that\nhis body be in thine hand, but save his soul and his life. Then Satan\ndeparted from the face of our Lord and smote Job with the worst blotches\nand blains from the plant of his foot, unto the top of his head, which\nwas made like a lazar [leper] and was cast out and sat on the dunghill.\nThen came his wife to him and said: Yet thou abidest in thy simpleness,\nforsake thy God and bless him no more, and go die. Then Job said to her:\nThou hast spoken like a foolish woman; if we have received and taken\ngood things of the hand of our Lord, why shall we not sustain and suffer\nevil things? In all these things Job sinned not with his lips. Then\nthree men that were friends of Job, hearing what harm was happed and\ncome to Job, came ever each one from his place to him, that one was\nnamed Eliphas the Temanite, another Bildad the Shuhite, and the third,\nZophar Naamathite. And when they saw him from far they knew him not, and\ncrying they wept. They came for to comfort him, and when they considered\nhis misery they tare their clothes and cast dust on their heads, and sat\nby him seven days and seven nights, and no man spake to him a word,\nseeing his sorrow. Then after that Job and they talked and spake\ntogether of his sorrow and misery, of which S. Gregory hath made a great\nbook called: The morals of S. Gregory, which is a noble book and a great\nwork.\n\nBut I pass over all the matters and return unto the end, how God\nrestored Job again to prosperity. It was so that when these three\nfriends of Job had been long with Job, and had said many things each of\nthem to Job, and Job again to them, our Lord was wroth with these three\nmen and said to them: Ye have not spoken rightfully, as my servant Job\nhath spoken. Take ye therefore seven bulls and seven wethers and go to\nmy servant Job and offer ye sacrifice for you. Job my servant shall pray\nfor you. I shall receive his prayer and shall take his visage. They went\nforth and did as our Lord commanded them. And our Lord beheld the visage\nof Job, and saw his penance when he prayed for his friends. And our Lord\nadded to Job double of all that Job had possessed. All his brethren came\nto him, and all his sisters, and all they that tofore had known him, and\nate with him in his house, and moved their heads upon him, and comforted\nhim upon all the evil that God had sent to him. And each of them gave\nhim a sheep and a gold ring for his ears. Our Lord blessed more Job in\nhis last days than he did in the beginning. And he had then after\nfourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, one thousand yoke of oxen,\none thousand asses. And he had seven sons and three daughters. And the\nfirst daughter's name was Jemima, the second Kezia, and the third\nKeren-happuch. There was nowhere found in the world so fair women as\nwere the daughters of Job. Their father Job gave to them heritage among\ntheir brethren, and thus Job by his patience gat so much love of God,\nthat he was restored double of all his losses. And Job lived after, one\nhundred and forty years, and saw his sons and the sons of his sons unto\nthe fourth generation, and died an old man, and full of days.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB\n\n\nThe Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,\nAnd his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold,\nAnd the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,\nWhen the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.\n\nLike the leaves of the forest when summer is green,\nThat host with their banners at sunset were seen;\nLike the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,\nThat host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.\n\nFor the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,\nAnd breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;\nAnd the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,\nAnd their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still.\n\nAnd there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,\nBut through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride:\nAnd the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,\nAnd cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.\n\nAnd there lay the rider, distorted and pale,\nWith the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;\nAnd the tents were all silent, the banners alone,\nThe lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.\n\nAnd the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,\nAnd the idols are broke in the temple of Baal,\nAnd the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,\nHath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!\n\n_--Lord Byron_\n\n\n\n\nHERE FOLLOWETH THE HISTORY OF TOBIT\n\n_Which is read the third Sunday of September_\n\n\nTobit of the tribe and of the city of Nephthali, which is in the\noverparts of Galilee upon Aser, after the way that leadeth men westward,\nhaving on his left side the city of Sepheth, was taken in the days of\nSalmanazar, King of the Assyrians, and put in captivity, yet he forsook\nnot the way of truth, but all that he had or could get he departed daily\nwith his brethren of his kindred which were prisoners with him. And\nhowbeit that he was youngest in all the tribe of Nephthali yet did he\nnothing childishly. Also when all other went unto the golden calves that\nJeroboam, King of Israel, had made, this Tobit only fled the fellowship\nof them all, and went to Jerusalem into the temple of our Lord. And\nthere he adored and worshipped the Lord God of Israel, offering truly\nhis first fruits and tithes insomuch that in the third year he\nministered unto proselytes and strangers all the tithe. Such things and\nother like to these he observed while he was a child, and when he came\nto age and was a man he took a wife named Anna, of his tribe, and begat\non her a son, naming after his own name Tobias, whom from his childhood\nhe taught to dread God and abstain him from all sin. Then after when he\nwas brought by captiviy with his wife and his son into the city of\nNineveh with all his tribe, and when all ate of the meats of the\nGentiles and Paynims, this Tobit kept his soul clean and was never\ndefouled in the meats of them. And because he remembered our Lord in all\nhis heart, God gave him grace to be in the favor of Salmanazar the king\nwhich gave to him power to go where he would. Having liberty to do what\nhe would, he went then to all them in captivity and gave to them\nwarnings of health. When he came on a time in Rages, city of the Jews,\nhe had such gifts as he had been honored with of the king, ten besants\nof silver. And when he saw one Gabael being needy which was of his\ntribe, he lent him the said weight of silver upon his obligation. Long\ntime after this when Salmanazar the king was dead, Sennacherib his son\nreigned for him, and hated, and loved not, the children of Israel. And\nTobit went unto all his kindred and comforted them, and divided to every\neach of them as he might of his faculties and goods.\n\nHe fed the hungry and gave to the naked clothes, and diligently he\nburied the dead men and them that were slain. After this when\nSennacherib returned, fleeing the plague from the Jewry, that God had\nsent him for his blasphemy, and he, being wroth, slew many of the\nchildren of Israel, and Tobit always buried the bodies of them, which\nwas told to the king, which commanded to slay him, and took away all his\nsubstance. Tobit then with his wife and his son hid him and fled away\nall naked, for many loved him well. After this, forty-five days, the\nsons of the king slew the king, and then returned Tobit unto his house,\nand all his faculties and goods were restored to him again. After this\non a high festival day of our Lord when that Tobit had a good dinner in\nhis house, he said to his son: Go and fetch to us some of our tribe\ndreading God, that they may come and eat with us. And he went forth and\nanon he returned telling to his father that one of the children of\nIsrael was slain and lay dead in the street. And anon he leapt out of\nhis house, leaving his meat, and fasting came to the, body, took it and\nbare it in to his house privily, that he might secretly bury it when the\nsun went down. And when he had hid the corpse, he ate his meat with\nwailing and dread, remembering that word that our Lord said by Amos the\nprophet: The day of your feast shall be turned into lamentation and\nwailing. And when the sun was gone down he went and buried him. All his\nneighbors reproved and chid him, saying for this cause they were\ncommanded to be slain, and unnethe [hardly] thou escapedst the\ncommandment of death, and yet thou buriest dead men. But Tobit, more\ndreading God than the king, took up the bodies of dead men and hid them\nin his house, and at midnight he buried them.\n\nIt happed on a day after this that when he was weary of burying dead\nmen, he came home and laid him down by a wall and slept. And he became\nblind. This temptation suffered God to fall to him, that it should be an\nexample to them that shall come after him of his patience, like as it\nwas of holy Job. For from his infancy he dreaded ever God and kept his\nprecepts and was not grudging against God for his blindness, but he\nabode immovable in the dread of God, giving and rendering thankings to\nGod all the days of his life. For like as Job was assailed so was Tobit\nassailed of his kinsmen, scorning him and saying to him: Where is now\nthy hope and reward for which thou gavest thy alms and madest\nsepulchres? Tobit blamed them for such words, saying to them: In no wise\nsay ye not so, for we be the sons of holy men, and we abide that life\nthat God shall give to them that never shall change their faith from\nhim. Anna his wife went daily to the work of weaving, and got by the\nlabor of her hands their livelihood as much as she might. Whereof on a\nday she gat a kid and brought it home. When Tobit heard the voice of the\nkid bleating, he said: See that it be not stolen, yield it again to the\nowner, for it is not lawful for us to eat ne touch anything that is\nstolen. To that his wife all angry answered: Now manifestly and openly\nis thine hope made vain, and thy alms lost. And thus with such and like\nwords she chid him. Then Tobit began to sigh and began to pray our Lord\nwith tears saying: O Lord, thou art rightful, and all thy dooms be true,\nand all thy ways be mercy, truth, and righteousness. And now, Lord,\nremember me, and take now no vengeance of my sins, ne remember not my\ntrespasses, ne the sins of my fathers. For'we have not obeyed thy\ncommandments, therefore we be betaken in to direption, captivity, death,\nfables, and into reproof and shame to all nations in which thou hast\ndispersed us. And now, Lord, great be thy judgments, for we have not\ndone according to thy precepts, ne have not walked well tofore thee. And\nnow, Lord, do to me after thy will, and command my spirit to be received\nin peace, it is more expedient to me to die than to live.\n\nThe same day it happed that Sara, daughter of Raguel in the city of\nMedes, that she was rebuked and heard reproof of one of the handmaidens\nof her father. For she had been given to seven men, and a devil named\nAsmodeus slew them as soon as they would have gone to her; therefore the\nmaid reproved her saying: We shall never see son ne daughter of thee on\nthe earth, thou slayer of thy husbands. Wilt thou slay me as thou hast\nslain seven men? With this voice and rebuke she went up in the upperest\ncubicle of the house. And three days and three nights she ate not, ne\ndrank not, but was continually in prayers beseeching God for to deliver\nher from this reproof and shame. And on the third day, when she had\naccomplished her prayer, blessing our Lord she said: Blessed be thy\nname, God of our fathers, for when thou art wroth thou shalt do mercy\nand in a time of tribulation thou forgivest sins to them that call to\nthee. Unto thee, Lord, I convert my visage, and unto thee I address mine\neyes. I ask and require thee that thou assoil me from the bond of the\nreproof and shame, or certainly upon the earth keep me. Thou knowest\nwell, Lord, that I never desired man, but I have kept clean my soul. I\nnever meddled me with players, ne never had part of them that walk in\nlightness. I consented for to take an husband with thy dread. Or I was\nunworthy to them or haply they were unworthy to me, or haply thou hast\nconserved and kept me for some other man. Thy counsel is not in man's\npower. This knoweth every man that worshippeth thee, for the life of him\nif it be in probation shall be crowned, and if it be in tribulation it\nshall be delivered, and if it be in correction, it shall be lawful to\ncome to mercy. Thou hast none delectation in our perdition, for after\ntempest thou makest tranquillity, and after weeping and shedding of\ntears thou bringest in exultation and joy. Thy name, God of Israel, be\nblessed, world without end.\n\nIn that same time were the prayers of them both heard in the sight of\nthe glory of the high God. And the holy angel of God, Raphael, was sent\nto heal them both. Of whom in one time were the prayers recited in the\nsight of our Lord God. Then when Tobit supposed his prayers to be heard\nthat he might die, he called to him his son Tobias, and said to him:\nHear, my son, the words of my mouth, and set them in thy heart as a\nfundament. When God shall take away my soul, bury my body, and thou\nshalt worship thy mother all the days of her life, thou owest to\nremember what and how many perils she hath suffered for thee in her\nwomb. When she shall have accomplished the time of her life, bury her by\nme. All the days of thy life have God in thy mind, and beware that thou\nnever consent to sin, ne to disobey ne break the commandments of God. Of\nthy substance do alms, and turn never thy face from any poor man, so do\nthat God turn not his face from thee. As much as thou mayst, be\nmerciful, if thou have much good give abundantly, if thou have but\nlittle, yet study to give and to depart thereof gladly, for thou makest\nto thee thereof good treasure and meed in the day of necessity, for alms\ndelivereth a man from all sin and from death, and suffereth not his soul\nto go in to darkness. Alms is a great sikerness [surety] tofore the high\nGod unto all them that do it. Beware, my son, keep thee from all\nuncleanness, and suffer not thyself to know that sin; and suffer never\npride to have domination in thy wit, ne in thy word, that sin was the\nbeginning of all perdition. Whosomever work to thee any thing, anon\nyield to him his meed and hire, let never the hire of thy servant ne\nmeed of thy mercenary remain in no wise with thee. That thou hatest to\nbe done to thee of other, see that thou never do to an other. Eat thy\nbread with the hungry and needy, and cover the naked with thy clothes.\nOrdain thy bread and wine upon the sepulture of a righteous man, but eat\nit not ne drink it with sinners. Ask and demand counsel of a wise man.\nAlways and in every time bless God and desire of him that he address thy\nways, and let all thy counsels abide in him. I tell to thee, my son,\nthat when thou wert a little child I lent to Gabael ten besants of\nsilver, dwelling in Rages the city of Medes, upon an obligation, which I\nhave by me. And therefore spere [search] and ask how thou mayst go to\nhim, and thou shalt receive of him the said weight of silver and restore\nto him his obligation. Dread thou not, my son; though we lead a poor\nlife, we shall have much good if we dread God and go from sin and do\nwell. Then young Tobias answered to his father: All that thou hast\ncommanded me I shall do, father; but how I shall get this money I wot\nnever; he knoweth not me, ne I know not him; what token shall I give\nhim? And also I know not the way thither. Then his father answered to\nhim and said: I have his obligation by me, which when thou shewest him,\nanon he shall pay thee. But go now first and seek for thee some true\nman, that for his hire shall go with thee whiles I live, that thou mayst\nreceive it.\n\nThen Tobias went forth and found a fair young man girt up and ready for\nto walk, and not knowing that it was the angel of God, saluted him and\nsaid: From whence have we thee, good young man? And he answered: Of the\nchildren of Israel. And Tobias said to him: Knowest thou the way that\nleadeth one into the region of Medes? To whom he answered: I know it\nwell, and all the journeys I have oft walked and have dwelled with\nGabael our brother which dwelled in Rages the city of Medes, which\nstandeth in the hill of Ecbathanis. To whom Tobias said: I pray thee\ntary here a while till I have told this to my father. Then Tobias went\nin to his father and told to him all these things, whereon his father\nmarvelled and prayed him that he should bring him in. Then the angel\ncame in and saluted the old Tobit and said: Joy be to thee always. And\nTobit said: What joy shall be to me that sit in darkness, and see not\nthe light of heaven. To whom the youngling said: Be of strong belief; it\nshall not be long but of God thou shalt be cured and healed. Then said\nTobit to him: Mayst thou lead my son unto Gabael in Rages city of Medes,\nand when thou comest again I shall restore to thee thy meed. And the\nangel said: I shall lead him thither and bring him again to thee. To\nwhom Tobit said: I pray thee to tell me of what house or of what kindred\nart thou. To whom Raphael the angel said: Thou needest not to ask the\nkindred of him that shall go with thy son, but lest haply I should not\ndeliver him to thee again: I am Azarias son of great Ananias. Tobit\nanswered: Thou art of a great kindred, but I pray thee be not wroth,\nthough I would know thy kindred. The angel said to him: I shall safely\nlead thy son thither, and safely bring him and render him to thee again.\nTobit then answered saying: Well mote ye walk, and our Lord be in your\njourney, and his angel fellowship with you. Then, when all was ready\nthat they should have with them by the way, young Tobias took leave of\nhis father and mother, and bade them farewell. When they should depart\nthe mother began to weep and say: Thou has taken away and sent from us\nthe staff of our old age, would God that thilke [that] money had never\nbeen for which thou hast sent him, our poverty sufficeth enough to us\nthat we might have seen our son. Tobit said to her: Weep not, our son\nshall come safely again and thine eyes shall see him. I believe that the\ngood angel of God hath fellowship with him, and shall dispose all\nthings that shall be needful to him, and that he shall return again to\nus with joy. With this the mother ceased of her weeping and was still.\n\nThen young Tobias went forth and an hound followed him. And the first\nmansion [stay] that they made was by the river of Tigris, and Tobias\nwent out for to wash his feet, and there came a great fish for to devour\nhim, whom Tobias fearing cried out with a great voice: Lord, he cometh\non me, and the angel said to him: Take him by the fin and draw him to\nthee. And so he did and drew him out of the water to the dry land. Then\nsaid the angel to him: Open the fish and take to thee the heart, the\ngall, and the milt, and keep them by thee; they be profitable and\nnecessary for medicines. And when he had done so he roasted of the fish,\nand took it with them for to eat by the way, and the remnant they\nsalted, that it might suffice them till they came into the city of\nRages. Then Tobias demanded of the angel and said: I pray thee, Azarias,\nbrother, to tell me whereto these be good that thou hast bidden me keep.\nAnd the angel answered and said: If thou take a little of his heart and\nput it on the coals, the smoke and fume thereof driveth away all manner\nkind of devils, be it from man or from woman, in such wise that he shall\nno more come to them. And Tobias said: Where wilt thou that we shall\nabide? And he answered and said: Hereby is a man named Raguel, a man\nnigh to thy kindred and tribe, and he hath a daughter named Sara, he\nhath neither son ne daughter more than her. Thou shalt owe all his\nsubstance, for thee behoveth to take her to thy wife. Then Toby answered\nand said: I have heard say that she hath been given to seven men, and\nthey be dead, and I have heard that a devil slayeth them. I dread\ntherefore that it might hap so to me, and I that am an only son to my\nfather and mother, I should depose their old age with heaviness and\nsorrow to hell. Then Raphael the angel said to him: Hear me, and I shall\nshow thee wherewith thou mayst prevail against that devil; these that\ntook their wedlock in such wise that they exclude God from them and\ntheir mind, the devil hath power upon them. Thou therefore when thou\nshalt take a wife, and enterest into her cubicle, be thou continent by\nthe space of three days from her, and thou shalt do nothing but be in\nprayers with her: and that same night put the heart of the fish on the\nfire, and that shall put away the devil, and after the third night thou\nshalt take the virgin with dread of God, that thou mayst follow the\nblessing of Abraham in his seed. Then they went and entered into\nRaguel's house, and Raguel received them joyously, and Raguel, beholding\nwell Tobias, said to Anna his wife: How like is this young man unto my\ncousin! And when he had so said he asked them: Whence be ye, young men\nmy brethren? And they said: Of the tribe of Nephthalim, of the captivity\nof Nineveh. Raguel said to them: Know ye Tobit my brother? Which said:\nWe know him well. When Raguel had spoken much good of him, the angel\nsaid to Raguel: Tobit of whom thou demandest is father of this young\nman. And then went Raguel, and with weeping eyes kissed him, and weeping\nupon his neck said: The blessing of God be to thee, my son, for thou art\nson of a blessed and good man. And Anna his wife and Sara his daughter\nwept also.\n\nAnd after they had spoken, Raguel commanded to slay a wether, and make\nready a feast. When he then should bid them sit down to dinner, Tobias\nsaid: I shall not eat here this day ne drink but if thou first grant to\nme my petition, and promise to me to give me Sara thy daughter. Which\nwhen Raguel heard he was astonied and abashed, knowing what had fallen\nto seven men that tofore had wedded her, and dreaded lest it might\nhappen to this young man in likewise. And when he held his peace and\nwould give him none answer the angel said to him: Be not afeard to give\nthy daughter to this man dreading God, for to him thy daughter is\nordained to be his wife, therefore none other may have her. Then said\nRaguel: I doubt not God hath admitted my prayers and tears in his sight,\nand I believe that therefore he hath made you to come to me that these\nmay be joined in one kindred after the law of Moses, and now have no\ndoubt but I shall give her to thee. And he taking the right hand of his\ndaughter delivered it to Tobias saying: God of Abraham, God of Isaac,\nand God of Jacob be with you, and he conjoin you together and fulfil his\nblessing in you. And took a charter and wrote the conscription of the\nwedlock. And after this they ate, blessing our Lord God. Raguel called\nto him Anna his wife and bade her to make ready another cubicle. And she\nbrought Sara her daughter therein, and she wept, to whom her mother\nsaid: Be thou strong of heart, my daughter, our Lord of heaven give to\nthee joy for the heaviness that thou hast suffered. After they had\nsupped, they led the young man to her. Tobias remembered the words of\nthe angel, and took out of his bag part of the heart of the fish, and\nlaid it on burning coals. Then Raphael the angel took the devil and\nbound him in the upperest desert of Egypt. Then Tobias exhorted the\nvirgin and said to her: Arise, Sara, and let us pray to God this day,\nand to-morrow, and after to-morrow, for these three nights we be joined\nto God. And after the third night we shall be in our wedlock. We be\nsoothly the children of saints, and we may not so join together as\npeople do that know not God. Then they both arising prayed together\ninstantly that health might be given to them. Tobias said: Lord God of\nour fathers, heaven and earth, sea, wells, and floods, and all creatures\nthat be in them, bless thee. Thou madest Adam of the slime of the earth,\nand gavest to him for an help Eve, and now, Lord, thou knowest that I\ntake my sister to wife, only for the love of posterity, in which thy\nname be blessed world without end. Then said Sara: Have mercy on us,\nLord, have mercy, and let us wax old both together in health. And after\nthis the cocks began to crow, at which time Raguel commanded his\nservants to come to him, and they together went for to make and delve a\nsepulchre. He said: Lest haply it happen to him as it hath happed to\nthe seven men that wedded her. When they had made ready the foss and\npit, Raguel returned to his wife and said to her: Send one of thy\nhandmaidens, and let her see if he be dead, that he may be buried ere it\nbe light day. And she sent forth one of her servants, which entered into\nthe cubicle and found them both safe and whole, and sleeping together,\nand she returned and brought good tidings. And Raguel and Anna blessed\nour Lord God and said: We bless thee, Lord God of Israel, that it hath\nnot happed to us as we supposed; thou hast done to us thy mercy, and\nthou hast excluded from us our enemy pursuing us, thou hast done mercy\non two only children. Make them, Lord, to bless thee to full, and to\noffer to thee sacrifice of praising and of their health, that the\nuniversity of peoples may know that thou art God only in the universal\nearth.\n\nAnon then Raguel commanded his servants to fill again the pit that they\nhad made ere it waxed light, and bade his wife to ordain a feast, and\nmake all ready that were necessary to meat. He did do slay two fat kine\nand four wethers, and to ordain meat for all his neighbors and friends,\nand Raguel desired and adjured Tobias that he should abide with him two\nweeks. Of all that ever Raguel had in possession of goods he gave half\npart to Tobias, and made to him a writing that the other half part he\nshould have after the death of him and his wife. Then Tobias called the\nangel to him, which he trowed had been a man, and said to him: Azarias,\nbrother, I pray thee to take heed to my words; if I make myself servant\nto thee I shall not be worthy to satisfy thy providence. Nevertheless I\npray thee to take to thee the beasts and servants and go to Gabael in\nRages the city of Medes, and render to him his obligation, and receive\nof them the money and pray him to come to my wedding. Thou knowest\nthyself that my father numbereth the days of my being out, and if I\ntarry more his soul shall be heavy, and certainly thou seest how Raguel\nhath adjured me, whose desire I may not despise. Then Raphael, taking\nfour of the servants of Raguel and two camels, went to Rages the city of\nMedes, and there finding Gabael, gave to him his obligation and received\nall the money, and told to him of Tobias, son of Tobit, all that was\ndone, and made him come with him to the wedding. When then he entered\nthe house of Raguel, he found Tobias sitting at meat, and came to him\nand kissed him, and Gabael wept and blessed God saying: God of Israel\nbless thee, for thou art son of the best man and just, dreading God and\ndoing alms, and the blessing be said upon thy wife and your parents, and\nthat you may see the sons of your sons unto the third and fourth\ngeneration, and your seed be blessed of the God of Israel, which\nreigneth in secula seculorum [forever]. And when all had said Amen, they\nwent to the feast. And with the dread of God they exercised the feast of\ntheir weddings. Whiles that Tobias tarried because of his marriage, his\nfather Tobit began to be heavy saying: Trowest thou wherefore my son\ntarrieth and why he is holden there? Trowest thou that Gabael be dead,\nand no man is there that shall give him his money?\n\nHe began to be sorry and heavy greatly, both he and Anna his wife with\nhim, and began both to weep because at the day set he came not home. His\nmother therefore wept with unmeasurable tears, and said: Alas, my son,\nwherefore sent we thee to go this pilgrimage? The light of our eyes, the\nstaff of our age, the solace of our life, the hope of our posterity, all\nthese only having in thee, we ought not to have let thee go from us. To\nwhom Tobit said: Be still and trouble thee not, our son is safe enough,\nthe man is true and faithful enough with whom we sent him. She might in\nno wise be comforted, but every day she went and looked and espied the\nway that he should come if she might see him come from far. Then Raguel\nsaid to Tobias his son-in-law: Abide here with me, and I shall send\nmessengers of thy health and welfare to Tobit thy father. To whom Tobias\nsaid: I know well that my father and my mother accompt the days, and the\nspirit is in great pain within them. Raguel prayed him with many words,\nbut Tobias would in no wise grant him. Then he delivered to him Sara his\ndaughter, and half part of all his substance in servants, men and women,\nin beasts, camels, in kine and much money. And safe and joyful he let\nhim depart from him, saying: The angel of God that is holy be in your\njourney, and bring you home whole and sound, and that ye may find all\nthings well and rightful about your father and mother, and that mine\neyes may see your sons ere I die. And the father and mother taking\ntheir daughter kissed her and let her depart, warning her to worship her\nhusband's father and mother, love her husband, to rule well the meiny\n[retinue], to govern the house and to keep herself irreprehensible, that\nis to say, without reproof.\n\nWhen they thus returned and departed, they came to Charram, which is the\nhalf way to Nineveh, the thirteenth day. Then said the angel to Tobias:\nTobias, brother, thou knowest how thou hast left thy father, if it\nplease thee we will go tofore and let thy family come softly after, with\nthy wife and with thy beasts. This pleased well to Tobias; and then said\nRaphael to Tobias: Take with thee of the gall of the fish, it shall be\nnecessary. Tobias took of the gall and went forth tofore. Anna his\nmother sat every day by the way in the top of the hill, from whence she\nmight see him come from far, and whilst she sat there and looked after\nhis coming, she saw afar and knew her son coming, and running home she\ntold to her husband saying: Lo! thy son cometh. Raphael then said to\nyoung Tobias: Anon as thou enterest in to the house adore thy Lord God,\nand giving to him thankings, go to thy father and kiss him. And anon\nthen anoint his eyes with the gall of the fish that thou bearest with\nthee, thou shalt well know that his eyes shall be opened, and thy father\nshall see the light of heaven and shall joy in thy sight. Then ran the\ndog that followed him and had been with him in the way, and came home as\na messenger, fawning and making joy with his tail. And the blind father\narose and began offending his feet to run to meet his son, giving to him\nhis hand, and so taking, kissed him with his wife, and began to weep for\njoy. When then they had worshipped God and thanked him, they sat down\ntogether. Then Tobias taking the gall of the fish anointed his father's\neyes, and abode as it had been half an hour, and the slime of his eyes\nbegan to fall away like as it had been the white of an egg, which Tobias\ntook and drew from his father's eyes, and anon he received sight. And\nthey glorified God, that is to wit he and his wife and all they that\nknew him.\n\nThen said Tobit the father: I bless thee, Lord God of Israel, for thou\nhast chastised me, and thou hast saved me, and, lo! I see Tobias my son.\nAfter these seven days Sara the wife of his son came and entered in with\nall the family, and the beasts whole and sound, camels and much money of\nhis wife's, and also the money that he had received of Gabael. And he\ntold to his father and mother all the benefits of God that was done to\nhim by the man that led him. Then came Achiacharus and Nasbas, cousins\nof Tobias, joying and thanking God of all the goods that God had showed\nto him. And seven days they ate together making feast, and were glad\nwith great joy. Then old Tobit call his son Tobias to him, and said:\nWhat may we give to this holy man that cometh with thee? Then Tobias\nanswering said to his father: Father, what meed may we give to him, or\nwhat may be worthy to him for his benefits? He led me out and hath\nbrought me whole again, he received the money of Gabael; he did me have\nmy wife and he put away the devil from her; he hath made joy to my\nparents, and saved myself from devouring of the fish, and hath made thee\nsee the light of heaven, and by him we be replenished with all goods;\nwhat may we then worthily give to him? Wherefore I pray thee, father,\nthat thou pray him if he vouchsafe to take the half of all that I have.\nThen the father and the son calling him took him apart and began to pray\nhim that he would vouchsafe to take half the part of all the goods that\nthey had brought. Then said he to them privily: Bless ye God of heaven\nand before all living people knowledge ye him, for he hath done to you\nhis mercy. Forsooth to hide the sacrament of the king it is good, but\nfor to show the works of God and to knowledge them it is worshipful.\nOration and prayer is good, with fasting and alms, and more than to set\nup treasures of gold. For alms delivereth from death, and it is she that\npurgeth sins and maketh a man to find everlasting life. Who that do sin\nand wickedness they be enemies of his soul. I show to you therefore the\ntruth and I shall not hide from you the secret word. When thou prayedst\nwith tears and didst bury the dead men and leftest thy dinner and\nhiddest dead men by the day in thine house, and in the night thou\nburiedst them, I offered thy prayer unto God. And forasmuch as thou wert\naccepted tofore God, it was necessary, thou being tempted, that he\nshould prove thee. And now hath our Lord sent me for to cure thee, and\nSara the wife of thy son I have delivered from the devil. I am soothly\nRaphael the angel, one of the seven which stand tofore our Lord God.\nWhen they heard this they were troubled, and trembling fell down on\ntheir faces upon the ground. The angel said to them: Peace be to you,\ndread you not. Forsooth I was with you by the will of God, him alway\nbless ye and sing ye to him, I was seen of you to eat and drink, but I\nuse meat and drink invisible, which of men may not be seen. It is now\ntherefore time that I return to him which sent me. Ye alway bless God\nand tell ye all his marvels. And when he had said this he was taken away\nfrom the sight of them, and after that they might no more see him. Then\nthey fell down flat on their faces by the space of three hours and\nblessed God, and arising up they told all the marvels of him.\n\nThen the older Tobit opening his mouth blessed our Lord and said: Great\nart thou, Lord, evermore, and thy reign is in to all worlds, for thou\nscourgest and savest, thou leadest to hell and bringest again, and there\nis none that may flee thy hand. Knowledge and confess you to the Lord,\nye children of Israel, and in the sight of Gentiles praise ye him.\nTherefore he hath disperpled [scattered] you among Gentiles that know\nhim not, that ye tell his marvels, and make them to be known. For there\nis none other God Almighty but he; he hath chastised us for our\nwickedness and he shall save us for his mercy. Take heed and see\ntherefore what he hath done to us, and with fear and dread, knowledge ye\nto him, and exalt him king of all worlds in your works. I soothly in the\nland of my captivity shall knowledge to him, for he hath showed his\nmajesty into the sinful people. Confess ye therefore sinners, and do ye\njustice tofore our Lord by believing that he shall do to you his mercy,\naye soothly, and my soul shall be glad in him. All ye chosen of God,\nbless ye him and make ye days of gladness and knowledge ye to him.\nJerusalem city of God, our Lord hath chastised thee in the works of his\nhands, confess thou to our Lord in his good things and bless thou the\nGod of worlds that he may re-edify in thee his tabernacle, and that he\nmay call again to thee all prisoners and them that be in captivity and\nthat thou joy in omnia secula seculorum. Thou shalt shine with a bright\nlight, and all the ends of the earth shall worship thee. Nations shall\ncome to thee from far, and bringing gifts shall worship in thee our\nLord, and shall have thy land into sanctification. They shall call in\nthee a great name, they shall be cursed that shall despise thee, and\nthey all shall be condemned that blaspheme thee. Blessed be they that\nedify thee, thou shalt be joyful in thy sons, for all shall be blessed,\nand shall be gathered together unto our Lord. Blessed be they that love\nthee and that joy upon thy peace. My soul, bless thou our Lord, for he\nhath delivered Jerusalem his city. I shall be blessed if there be left\nof my seed for to see the clearness of Jerusalem. The gates of Jerusalem\nshall be edified of sapphire and emerald, and all the circuit of his\nwalls of precious stone; all the streets thereof shall be paved with\nwhite stone and clean; and Alleluia shall be sung by the ways thereof.\nBlessed be the Lord that hath exalted it that it may be his kingdom in\nsecula seculorum, Amen. And thus Tobit finished these words. And Tobit\nlived after he had received his sight forty-two years, and saw the sons\nof his nephews, that is, the sons of the sons of his son young Tobias.\nAnd when he had lived one hundred and two years he died, and was\nhonorably buried in the city of Nineveh.\n\nHe was fifty-six years old when he lost his sight, and when he was sixty\nyears old he received his sight again. The residue of his life was in\njoy, and with good profit of the dread of God he departed in peace. In\nthe hour of his death he called to him Tobias his son, and seven of his\nyoung sons, his nephews, and said to them: The destruction of Nineveh is\nnigh, the word of God shall not pass, and our brethren that be\ndisperpled [scattered] from the land of Israel shall return thither\nagain. All the land thereof shall be fulfilled with desert, and the\nhouse that is burnt therein shall be re-edified, and thither shall\nreturn all people dreading God. And Gentiles shall leave their idols and\nshall come in Jerusalem and shall dwell, therein, and all the kings of\nthe earth shall joy in her, worshipping the king of Israel. Hear ye\ntherefore, my sons, me your father, serve ye God in truth and seek ye\nthat ye do that may be pleasing to him, and command ye to your sons that\nthey do righteousness and alms, that they may remember God and bless him\nin all time in truth and in all their virtue. Now therefore, my sons,\nhear me and dwell ye no longer here, but whensoever your mother shall\ndie, bury her by me and from then forthon dress ye your steps that ye\ngo hence, I see well that wickedness shall make an end of it. It was so\nthen after the death of his mother, Tobias went from Nineveh with his\nwife and his sons, and the sons of his sons, and returned unto his\nwife's father and mother, whom they found in good health and good age,\nand took the cure and charge of them, and were with them unto their\ndeath, and closed their eyes. And Tobias received all the heritage of\nthe house of Raguel and saw the sons of his sons unto the fifth\ngeneration. And when he had complished ninety-nine years he died in the\ndread of God, and with joy they buried him. All his cognation [kindred]\nand all his generation [offspring] abode in good life and in holy\nconversation, and in such wise as they were acceptable as well to God as\nto men, and to all dwelling on the earth.\n\n\n\n\nHERE BEGINNETH THE STORY OF JUDITH\n\n_Which is read the last Sunday of October_\n\n\nArpaxhad, king of the Medes, subdued into his empire many peoples and\nedified a mighty city, which he named Ecbatane, and made it with stones\nsquared, and polished them. The walls thereof were of height seventy\ncubits, and of breadth thirty cubits, and the towers thereof were an\nhundred cubits high. And he glorified himself as he that was mighty in\npuissance and in the glory of his host and of his chariots.\nNebuchadnezzar then in the twelfth year of his reign, which was king of\nthe Assyrians, and reigned in the city of Nineveh, fought against\nArphaxad and took him in the field, whereof Nebuchadnezzar was exalted\nand enhanced himself, and sent unto all regions about and unto Jerusalem\ntill the Mounts of Ethiopia, for to obey and hold of him. Which all\ngainsaid him with one will, and without worship sent home his messengers\nvoid, and set nought by him. Then Nebuchadnezzar, having them at great\nindignation, swore by his reign and by his throne that he would avenge\nhim on them all, and thereupon called all his dukes, princes, and men of\nwar, and held a counsel in which was decreed that he should subdue all\nthe world unto his empire. And thereupon he ordained Holofernes prince\nof his knighthood, and bade him go forth, and in especial against them\nthat had despised his empire; and bade him spare no realm ne town but\nsubdue all to him. Then Holofernes assembled dukes and masters of the\nstrength of Nebuchadnezzar, and numbered one hundred and twenty thousand\nfootmen, and horsemen shooters twelve thousand. And tofore them he\ncommanded to go a multitude of innumerable camels laden with such things\nas were needful to the host, as victual, gold and silver, much that was\ntaken out of the treasury of the kings. And so went to many realms which\nhe subdued; and occupied a great part of the orient till he came\napproaching the land of Israel. And when the children of Israel heard\nthereof they dreaded sore lest he should come among them into Jerusalem\nand destroy the temple, for Nebuchadnezzar had commanded that he should\nextinct all the gods of the earth, and that no god should be named ne\nworshipped but he himself, of all the nations that Holofernes should\nsubdue.\n\nEliachim, then priest in Israel, wrote unto all them in the mountains\nthat they should keep the strait ways of the mountains, and so the\nchildren of Israel did as the priest had ordained. Then Eliachim, the\npriest, went about all Israel and said to them: Know ye that God hath\nheard your prayers, if ye abide and continue in your prayers and\nfastings in the sight of God. Remember ye of Moses, the servant of God,\nwhich overthrew Amalek trusting in his strength, and in his power, in\nhis host, in his helmets, in his chariots, and in his horsemen; not\nfighting with iron, but with praying of holy prayers. In like wise shall\nit be with all the enemies of Israel if ye persevere in this work that\nye have begun. With this exhortation they continued praying God. They\npersevered in the sight of God, and also they that offered to our Lord\nwere clad with sackcloth, and had ashes on their heads, and with all\ntheir heart they prayed God to visit his people Israel. It was told to\nHolofernes prince of the knighthood of the Assyrians that the children\nof Israel made them ready to resist him, and had closed the ways of the\nmountains, and he was burned in overmuch fury in great ire. He called\nall the princes of Moab and dukes of Ammon and said to them: Say ye to\nme, what people is this that besiege the mountains, or what or how many\ncities have they? And what is their virtue, and what multitude is of\nthem? Or who is king of their knighthood? Then Achior, duke of all of\nthem of Ammon, answering said: If thou deignest to hear me I shall tell\nthee truth of this people that dwelleth in the mountains, and there\nshall not issue out of my mouth one false word. This people dwelled\nfirst in Mesopotamia, and was of the progeny of the Chaldees, but would\nnot dwell there for they would not follow the gods of their fathers that\nwere in the land of Chaldees, and going and leaving the ceremonies of\ntheir fathers, which was in the multitude of many gods, they honored\none, God of heaven, which commanded them to go thence that they should\ndwell in Canaan. Then after was there much hunger, that they descended\ninto Egypt, and there abode four hundred years, and multiplied that\nthey might not be numbered. When the king of Egypt grieved them in his\nbuildings, bearing clay tiles, and subdued them, they cried to their\nLord, and he smote the land of Egypt with divers plagues. When they of\nEgypt had cast them out from them, the plagues ceased from them and then\nthey would have taken them again and would have called them to their\nservice, and they fleeing, their God opened the sea to them that they\nwent through dry-foot, in which the innumerable host of the Egyptians\npursuing them were drowned, that there was not one of them saved for to\ntell to them that came after them. They passed thus the Red Sea, and he\nfed them with manna forty years, and made bitter waters sweet, and gave\nthem water out of a stone. And wheresoever this people entered without\nbow or arrow, shield or sword, their God fought for them, and there is\nno man may prevail against this people but when they departed from the\nculture and honor of their God. And as oft as they have departed from\ntheir God and worshipped other strange gods, so oft have they been\novercome with their enemies. And when they repent and come to the\nknowledge of their sin, and cry their God mercy, they be restored again,\nand their God giveth to them virtue to resist their enemies. They have\noverthrown Cananeum the king, Jebusee, Pheresee, Eneum, Etheum and\nAmoreum, and all the mighty men in Esebon, and have taken their lands\nand cities and possess them, and shall, as long as they please their\nGod. Their God hateth wickedness, for tofore this time when they went\nfrom the laws that their God gave to them, he suffered them to be taken\nof many nations into captivity, and were disperpled. And now late they\nbe come again and possess Jerusalem wherein is sancta sanctorum, and be\ncome over these mountains whereas some of them dwell. Now therefore, my\nlord, see and search if there be any wickedness of them in the sight of\ntheir God, and then let us go to them, for their God shall give them\ninto thy hands and they shall be subdued under the yoke of thy power.\n\nAnd when Achior had said thus, all the great men about Holofernes were\nangry and had thought for to have slain him, saying each to other: Who\nis this that may make the children of Israel resist the king\nNebuchadnezzar and his army and host? Men cowards and without might and\nwithout any wisdom of war. Therefore that Achior may know that he saith\nnot true, let us ascend the mountains, and when the mighty men of them\nbe taken let him be slain with them, that all men may know that\nNebuchadnezzar is god of the earth, and that there is none other but he.\nThen when they ceased to speak, Holofernes having indignation said to\nAchior: Because thou hast prophesied to us of the children of Israel\nsaying, that their God defend them, I shall show to thee that there is\nno god but Nebuchadnezzar, for whom we have overcome them all and slain\nthem as one man, then shalt thou die with them by the sword of the\nAssyrians, and all Israel shall be put into ruin and perdition, and then\nshall be known that Nebuchadnezzar is lord of all the earth, and the\nsword of my knighthood shall pass through thy sides. And thou shalt\ndepart hence and go to them, and shalt not die unto the time that I have\nthem and thee. And when I have slain them with my sword thou shalt in\nlike wise be slain with like vengeance. After this Holofernes commanded\nhis servants to take Achior, and lead him to Bethulia and to put him in\nthe hands of them of Israel. And so they took Achior and ascended the\nmountains, against whom came out men of war. Then the servants of\nHolofernes turned aside and bound Achior to a tree hands and feet with\ncords, and left him and so returned to their lord. Then the sons of\nIsrael coming down from Bethulia loosed and unbound him, and brought him\nto Bethulia, and he being set amid the people was demanded what he was,\nand why he was so sore there bounden. And he told to them all the matter\nlike as it is aforesaid, and how Holofernes had commanded him to be\ndelivered unto them of Israel. Then all the people fell down on to their\nfaces worshipping God, and with great lamentation and weeping, with one\nwill made their prayers unto our Lord God of heaven, and that he would\nbehold the pride of them, and to the meekness of them of Israel, and to\ntake heed to the faces of his hallows and show to them his grace and not\nforsake them, and prayed God to have mercy on them and defend them from\ntheir enemies. And on that other side, Holofernes commanded his hosts to\ngo up and assail Bethulia, and so went up, of footmen one hundred and\ntwenty thousand, and twelve thousand horsemen, and besieged the town,\nand took their water from them, insomuch that they that were in the town\nwere in great penury of water, for in all the town was not water enough\nfor one day, and such as they had was given to the people by measure.\nThen all the people young and old came to Ozias which was their prince,\nwith Charmis and Gothoniel, all with one voice crying: God the Lord deem\nbetween us and thee, for thou hast done to us evil what thou spakest not\npeaceably with Assyrians, for now we shall be delivered into the hands\nof them. It is better for us to live in captivity under Holofernes and\nlive, than to die here for thirst, and see our wives and children die\nbefore our eyes. And when they had made this piteous crying and yelling,\nthey went all to their church, and there a long while prayed and cried\nunto God knowledging their sins and wickedness, meekly beseeching him to\nshow his grace and pity on them. Then at last Ozias arose up, and said\nto the people: Let us abide yet five days, and if God send us no rescue\nne help us not in that time that we may give glory to his name, else we\nshall do as ye have said. And when that Judith heard thereof, which was\na widow and a blessed woman, and was left widow three years and six\nmonths.\n\nAfter that Manasses her husband died, anon she went into the overest\npart of her house in which she made a privy bed, which she and her\nservants closed, and having on her body a hair [hair cloth], had fasted\nall the days of her life save Sabbaths and new moons, and the feasts of\nthe house of Israel. She was a fair woman and her husband had left her\nmuch riches, with plentiful meiny, and possessions of droves of oxen and\nflocks of sheep, and she was a famous woman and dreaded God greatly. And\nwhen she had heard that Ozias had said, that the fifth day the city\nshould be given over if God helped them not, she sent for the priests\nChambris and Charmis and said to them: What is this word in which Ozias\nhath consented that the city should be delivered to the Assyrians if\nwithin five days there come no help to us? And who be ye that tempt the\nLord God? This word is not to stir God to mercy but rather to arouse\nwrath and woodness. Ye have set a time of mercy doing by God, and in\nyour doom ye have ordained a day to him. O good Lord, how patient is he,\nlet us ask him for forgiveness with weeping tears; he shall not threaten\nas a man, ne inflame in wrath as a son of a man, therefore meek we our\nsouls to him and in a contrite spirit and meeked, serve we to him, and\nsay we weeping to God, that after his will he show to us his mercy, and\nas our heart is troubled in the pride of them, so also of our humbleness\nand meekness let us be joyful. For we have not followed the sin of our\nfathers that forsook their God and worshipped strange gods, wherefore\nthey were given and be taken into hideous and great vengeance, into\nsword, ravin, and into confusion to their enemies; we forsooth know no\nother god but him. Abide we meekly the comfort of him, and he shall keep\nus from our enemies and he shall make all gentiles that arise against\nhim, and shall make them without worship the Lord our God. And now ye\nbrethren, ye that be priests, on whom hangeth the life of the people of\nGod, pray ye unto Almighty God that he make me steadfast in the purpose\nthat I have proposed. Ye shall stand at the gate and I shall go out with\nmy handmaid. And pray ye the Lord that he steadfast make my soul, and do\nye nothing till I come again.\n\nAnd then Judith went into her oratory, and arrayed her with her precious\nclothing and adornments, and took unto her handmaid certain victuals\nsuch as she might lawfully eat, and when she had made her prayers unto\nGod she departed in her most noble array toward the gate, whereas Ozias\nand the priests abode her, and when they saw her they marvelled of her\nbeauty. Notwithstanding they let her go, saying: God of our fathers give\nthee grace and strengthen all the counsel of thine heart with his virtue\nand glory to Jerusalem, and be thy name in the number of saints and of\nrighteous men. And they all that were there said: Amen, and, fiat! fiat!\n[let it be done]. Then she praising god passed through the gate, and her\nhandmaid with her. And when she came down the hill, about the springing\nof the day, anon the spies of the Assyrians took her saying: Whence\ncomest thou, or whither goest thou? The which answered: I am a daughter\nof the Hebrews and flee from them, knowing that they shall be taken by\nyou, and come to Holofernes for to tell him their privities, and I shall\nshow him by what entry he may win them, in such wise as one man of his\nhost shall not perish. And the men that heard these words beheld her\nvisage and wondered of her beauty, saying to her: Thou hast saved thy\nlife because thou hast founden such counsel, come therefore to our Lord,\nfor when thou shalt stand in his sight he shall accept thee. And they\nled her to the tabernacle of Holofernes. And when she came before him\nanon Holofernes was caught by his eyes, and his tyrant knights said to\nhim: Who despised the people of Jews that have so fair women, that not\nfor them of right we ought to fight against them? And so Judith seeing\nHolofernes sitting in his canape that was of purple, of gold, smaragdos\nand precious stones within woven, and when she had seen his face she\nhonored him, falling down herself unto the earth. And the servants of\nHolofernes took her up, he so commanding. Then Holofernes said to her:\nBe thou not afeard ne dread thee not. I never grieved ne noyed man that\nwould serve Nebuchadnezzar. Thy people soothly, if they had not despised\nme, I had not raised my people ne strength against them. Now tell to me\nthe cause why thou wentest from them, and that it hath pleased thee to\ncome to us. And Judith said: Take the words of thine handmaid, and if\nthou follow them, a perfect thing God shall do with thee. Forsooth\nNebuchadnezzar is the living king of the earth, and thou hast his power\nfor to chastise all people, for men only serve not him, but also the\nbeasts of the field obey to him, his might is known over all. And the\nchildren of Israel shall be yielded to thee, for their God is angry with\nthem for their wickedness. They be enfamined and lack bread and water,\nthey be constrained to eat their horse and beasts, and to take such holy\nthings as be forbidden in their law, as wheat, wine, and oil, all these\nthings God hath showed to me. And they purpose to waste such things as\nthey ought not touch, and therefore and for their sins they shall be put\nin the hands of their enemies, and our Lord hath showed me these things\nto tell thee. And I thine handmaid shall worship God, and shall go out\nand pray him, and come in and tell thee what he shall say to me, in such\nwise that I shall bring thee through the middle of Jerusalem, and thou\nshalt have all the people of Israel under thee, as the sheep be under\nthe shepherd, insomuch there shall not an hound burk against thee. And\nbecause these things be said to me by the providence of God, and that\nGod is wroth with them, I am sent to tell thee these things.\n\nForsooth, all these words pleased much to Holofernes, and to his people,\nand they marvelled of the wisdom of her. And one said to another. There\nis not such a woman upon earth in sight, in fairness, and in wit of\nwords. And Holofernes said to her: God hath done well that he hath sent\nthee hither for to let me have knowledge, and if thy God do to me these\nthings he shall be my God, and thou and thy name shall be great in the\nhouse of Nebuchadnezzar. Then commanded Holofernes her to go in where\nhis treasure lay, and to abide there, and to give to her meat from his\nfeast, to whom she said that she might not eat of his meat, but that she\nhad brought meat with her for to eat. Then Holofernes said: When that\nmeat faileth what shall we give to thee to eat? And Judith said that she\nshould not spend all till God shall do in my hands those things that I\nhave thought. And the servants led her into his tabernacle, and she\ndesired that she might go out in the night and before day to pray, and\ncome in again. And the lord commanded his cubiculers that she should go\nand come at her pleasure three days during. And she went out into the\nvalley of Bethulia and baptized her in the water of the well. And she\nstretched her hands up to the God of Israel, praying the good Lord that\nhe would govern her way for to deliver his people; and thus she did unto\nthe fourth day. Then Holofernes made a great feast, and sent a man of\nhis, named Bagoas, for to entreat Judith to come eat and drink with him.\nAnd Judith said: What am I that should gainsay my lord's desire. I am at\nhis commandment, whatsomever he will that I do, I shall do, and please\nhim all the days of my life. And she rose and adorned herself with her\nrich and precious clothes, and went in and stood before Holofernes, and\nHolofernes' heart was pierced with her beauty, and he said to her: Sit\ndown and drink in joy, for thou hast found grace before me. Judith said:\nI shall drink my lord, for my life is magnified this day before all the\ndays of my life. And she ate and drank such as her handmaid had ordained\nfor her. And Holofernes was merry and drank so much wine that he never\ndrank so much in one day in all his life, and was drunken. And at even,\nwhen it was night, Holofernes went into his bed, and Bagoas brought\nJudith in to his chamber and closed the door. And when Judith was alone\nin the chamber, and Holofernes lay and slept in overmuch drunkenness,\nJudith said to her handmaid that she should stand without forth before\nthe door of the privy chamber and wait about, and Judith stood before\nthe bed praying with tears and with moving of her lips secretly, saying:\nO Lord God of Israel, conform me in this hour to the works of my hands,\nthat thou raise up the city of Jerusalem as thou hast promised, and that\nI may perform this that I have thought to do. And when she had thus\nsaid, she went to the pillar that was at his bed's head, and took his\nsword and loosed it, and when she had drawn it out, she took his hair in\nher hand and said: Confirm me God of Israel in this hour, and smote\ntwice in the neck and cut off his head, and left the body lie still, and\ntook the head and wrapped it in the canape and delivered it to her maid,\nand bade her to put it in her scrip, and they two went out after their\nusage to pray. And they passed the tents, and going about the valley\ncame to the gate of the city, and Judith said to the keepers of the\nwalls: Open the gates, for God is with us that hath done great virtue in\nIsrael. And anon when they heard her call, they called the priests of\nthe city, and they came running for they had supposed no more to have\nseen her, and lighting lights all went about her.\n\nShe then entered in and stood up in a high place and commanded silence,\nand said: Praise ye the Lord God that forsaketh not men hoping in him;\nand in me his handwoman, hath fulfilled his mercy that he promised to\nthe house of Israel, and hath slain in my hand the enemy of his people\nthis night. And then she brought forth the head of Holofernes and showed\nit to them, saying: Lo! here the head of Holofernes, prince of the\nchivalry of Assyrians, and lo! the canape of him in which he lay in his\ndrunkenhood, where our Lord hath smitten him by the hand of a woman.\nForsooth God liveth, for his angel kept me hence going, there abiding,\nand from thence hither returning, and the Lord hath not suffered me, his\nhandwoman, to be defouled, but without pollution of sin hath called me\nagain to you joying in his victory, in my escaping and in your\ndeliverance. Knowledge ye him all for good, for his mercy is\neverlasting, world without end. And all they, honoring our Lord, said to\nher: The Lord bless thee in his virtue, for by thee he hath brought our\nenemies to naught. Then Ozias, the prince of the people, said to her:\nBlessed be thou of the high God before all women upon earth, and blessed\nbe the Lord that made heaven and earth, that hath addressed thee in the\nwounds of the head of the prince of our enemies. After this Judith bade\nthat the head should be hanged up on the walls, and at the sun rising\nevery man in his arms issue out upon your enemies, and when their spies\nshall see you, they shall run into the tent of their prince, to raise\nhim and to make him ready to fight, and when his lords shall see him\ndead, they shall be smitten with so great dread and fear that they shall\nflee, whom ye then shall pursue, and God shall bring them and tread\nthem under your feet. Then Achior seeing the virtue of the God of\nIsrael, left his old heathen's customs and believed in God, and put\nhimself to the people of Israel, and all the succession of his kindred\nunto this day. Then at the springing of the day they hung the head of\nHolofernes on the walls, and every man took his arms and went out with\ngreat noise, which thing seeing, the spies ran together to the\ntabernacle of Holofernes, and came making noise for to make him to\narise, and that he should awake, but no man was so hardy to knock or\nenter into his privy chamber. But when the dukes and leaders of\nthousands came, and other, they said to the privy chamberlains: Go and\nawake your lord, for the mice be gone out of their caves and be ready to\ncall us to battle. Then Bagoas went into his privy chamber and stood\nbefore the curtain, and clapped his hands together. And when he\nperceived no moving of him, he drew the curtain and seeing the dead body\nof Holofernes, without head, lying in his blood, cried with great voice,\nweeping and rending his clothes, and went in to the tabernacle of Judith\nand found her not, and started out to the people and said: A woman of\nthe Hebrews hath made confusion in the house of Nebuchadnezzar, she hath\nslain Holofernes, and he is dead, and she hath his head with her.\n\nAnd when the princes and captains of the Assyrians heard this, anon they\nrent their clothes, and intolerable dread fell on them, and were sore\ntroubled in their wits and made a horrible cry in their tents. And when\nall the host had heard how Holofernes was beheaded, counsel and mind\nflew from them, and with great trembling for succor began to flee, in\nsuch wise that none would speak with other, but with their heads bowed\ndown fled for to escape from the Hebrews, whom they saw armed coming\nupon them, and departed fleeing by fields and ways of hills and valleys.\nAnd the sons of Israel, seeing them fleeing, following them, crying with\ntrumps and shouting after them, and slew and smote down all them that\nthey overtook. And Ozias sent forth unto all the cities and regions of\nIsrael, and they sent after all the young men and valiant to pursue them\nby sword, and so they did unto the uttermost coasts of Israel. The other\nmen soothly, that were in Bethulia, went in to the tents of the\nAssyrians, and took all the prey that the Assyrians had left, and when\nthe men had pursued them were returned, they took all their beasts and\nall the movable goods and things that they had left, so much that every\nman from the most to the least were made rich by the prey that they\ntook. Then Joachim the high bishop of Jerusalem came unto Bethulia, with\nall the priests, for to see Judith, and when she came tofore them all,\nthey blessed her with one voice, saying: Thou glory of Jerusalem, thou\ngladness of Israel, thou the worship doing of our people, thou didst\nmanly, and thy heart is comforted because thou lovedst chastity and\nknewest no man after the death of thy husband, and therefore the hand of\nGod hath comforted thee. And therefore thou shalt be blessed world\nwithout end, and all the people said: Fiat! fiat! be it done, be it\ndone. Certainly the spoils of the Assyrians were unnethe gathered and\nassembled together in thirty days, of the people of Israel, but all the\nproper riches that were appertaining to Holofernes and could be found\nthat had been his, they were given to Judith as well gold, silver, gems,\nclothes, as all other appurtenances to household; and all was delivered\nto her of the people, and the folks, with women and maidens, joyed in\norgans and harps. Then Judith sang this song unto God saying: Begin ye\nin timbrels, sing ye to the Lord in cymbals, mannerly sing to him a new\npsalm. Fully joy ye, and inwardly call ye his name, and so forth. And\nfor this great miracle and victory all the people came to Jerusalem for\nto give laud, honor, and worship unto our Lord God. And after they were\npurified they offered sacrifices, vows, and behests unto God, and the\njoy of this victory was solemnized during three months, and after that,\neach went home again into his own city and house, and Judith returned\ninto Bethulia, and was made more great and clear to all men of the land\nof Israel. She was joined to the virtue of chastity, so that she knew no\nman all the days of her life after the death of Manasses, her husband,\nand dwelled in the house of her husband an hundred and five years, and\nshe left her demoiselle free. After this she died and is buried in\nBethulia and all the people bewailed her seven days. During her life\nafter this journey was no trouble among the Jews, and the day of this\nvictory of the Hebrews was accepted for a feastful day, and hallowed of\nthe Jews and numbered among their feasts unto this day.\n\n\n\n\nTHE VISION OF BELSHAZZAR\n\n\nThe King was on his throne,\n  The Satraps throng'd the hall;\nA thousand bright lamps shone\n  O'er that high festival.\nA thousand cups of gold,\n  In Judah deem'd divine--\nJehovah's vessels hold\n  The godless Heathen's wine.\n\nIn that same hour and hall\n  The fingers of a Hand\nCame forth against the wall,\n  And wrote as if on sand:\nThe fingers of a man;--\n  A solitary hand\nAlong the letters ran,\n  And traced them like a wand.\n\nThe monarch saw, and shook,\n  And bade no more rejoice;\nAll bloodless wax'd his look,\n  And tremulous his voice:--\n\"Let the men of lore appear,\n  The wisest of the earth,\nAnd expound the words of fear,\n  Which mar our royal mirth.\"\n\nChaldea's seers are good,\n  But here they have no skill;\nAnd the unknown letters stood\n  Untold and awful still.\nAnd Babel's men of age\n  Are wise and deep in lore;\nBut now they were not sage,\n  They saw--but knew no more.\n\nA Captive in the land,\n  A stranger and a youth,\nHe heard the king's command,\n  He saw that writing's truth;\nThe lamps around were bright,\n  The prophecy in view;\nHe read it on that night,--\n  The morrow proved it true!\n\n\"Belshazzar's grave is made,\n  His kingdom pass'd away,\nHe, in the balance weigh'd,\n  Is light and worthless clay;\nThe shroud, his robe of state;\n  His canopy, the stone:\nThe Mede is at his gate!\n  The Persian on his throne!\"\n\n_--Lord Byron_\n\n\n\n\nA CHRISTMAS CAROL\n\n\nAs Joseph was a-walking,\n  He heard an angel sing,\n\"This night shall be the birth-time\n  Of Christ, the heavenly king.\n\n\"He neither shall be born\n  In housen nor in hall,\nNor in the place of paradise,\n  But in an ox's stall.\n\n\"He neither shall be clothed\n  In purple nor in pall,\nBut in the fair white linen\n  That usen babies all.\n\n\"He neither shall be rocked\n  In silver nor in gold,\nBut in a wooden manger\n  That resteth on the mould.\"\n\nAs Joseph was a-walking,\n  There did an angel sing,\nAnd Mary's child at midnight\n  Was born to be our king.\n\nThen be ye glad, good people,\n  This night of all the year,\nAnd light ye up your candles,\n  For his star it shineth clear.\n\n\n\n\nON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY\n\n\nThis is the month, and this the happy morn\nWherein the Son of heav'n's eternal king\nOf wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,\nOur great redemption from above did bring;\nFor so the holy sages once did sing,\nThat He our deadly forfeit should release,\nAnd with His Father work us a perpetual peace.\n\nThat glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,\nAnd that far-beaming blaze of Majesty\nWherewith He wont at Heav'n's high council-table\nTo sit the midst of Trinal Unity,\nHe laid aside; and here with us to be,\nForsook the courts of everlasting day,\nAnd chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay.\n\nSay, heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein\nAfford a present to the Infant God?\nHast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain,\nTo welcome Him to this His new abode,\nNow while the heav'n by the sun's team untrod,\nHath took no print of the approaching light,\nAnd all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?\n\nSee how from far, upon the eastern road\nThe star-led wizards haste with odors sweet:\nO run, prevent them with thy humble ode,\nAnd lay it lowly at His bless\u00e8d feet;\nHave thou the honor first thy Lord to greet,\nAnd join thy voice unto the angel quire,\nFrom out His secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire.\n\n\nTHE HYMN\n\nIt was the winter wild\nWhile the heav'n-born Child\nAll meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;\nNature in awe to Him\nHad doff'd her gaudy trim,\nWith her great Master so to sympathize:\nIt was no season then for her\nTo wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour.\n\nOnly with speeches fair\nShe woos the gentle air\nTo hide her guilty front with innocent snow,\nAnd on her naked shame,\nPollute with sinful blame,\nThe saintly veil of maiden white to throw,\nConfounded that her Maker's eyes\nShould look so near upon her foul deformities.\n\nBut He, her fears to cease,\nSent down the meek-ey'd Peace;\nShe crown'd with olive-green, came softly sliding\nDown through the turning sphere,\nHis ready harbinger,\nWith turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing;\nAnd waving wide her myrtle wand,\nShe strikes a universal peace through sea and land.\n\nNo war, or battle's sound\nWas heard the world around:\nThe idle spear and shield were high up hung,\nThe hooked chariot stood\nUnstain'd with hostile blood,\nThe trumpet spake not to the armed throng,\nAnd kings sat still with awful eye,\nAs if they surely knew their sov'reign Lord was by.\n\nBut peaceful was the night,\nWherein the Prince of Light\nHis reign of peace upon the earth began:\nThe winds, with wonder whist,\nSmoothly the waters kist,\nWhispering new joys to the mild ocean,\nWho now hath quite forgot to rave,\nWhile birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.\n\nThe stars with deep amaze,\nStand fix'd in steadfast gaze,\nBending one way their precious influence,\nAnd will not take their flight,\nFor all the morning light,\nOr Lucifer that often warn'd them thence;\nBut in their glimmering orbs did glow,\nUntil their Lord Himself bespake, and bid them go,\n\nAnd though the shady gloom\nHad given day her room,\nThe sun himself withheld his wonted speed,\nAnd hid his head for shame,\nAs his inferior flame\nThe new-enlighten'd world no more should need;\nHe saw a greater Sun appear\nThan his bright throne, or burning axle-tree, could bear.\n\nThe shepherds on the lawn,\nOr ere the point of dawn,\nSate simply chatting in a rustic row;\nFull little thought they then\nThat the mighty Pan\nWas kindly come to live with them below;\nPerhaps their loves, or else their sheep,\nWas all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep.\n\nWhen such music sweet\nTheir hearts and ears did greet,\nAs never was by mortal finger strook,\nDivinely warbled voice\nAnswering the string\u00e8d noise,\nAs all their souls in blissful rapture took:\nThe air, such pleasure loth to lose,\nWith thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close.\n\nNature that heard such sound,\nBeneath the hollow round\nOf Cynthia's seat, the airy region thrilling,\nNow was almost won\nTo think her part was done,\nAnd that her reign had here its last fulfilling;\nShe knew such harmony alone\nCould hold all heav'n and earth in happier union.\n\nAt last surrounds their sight\nA globe of circular light,\nThat with long beams the shamefac'd night array'd;\nThe helm\u00e8d Cherubim,\nAnd sworded Seraphim,\nAre seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd,\nHarping in loud and solemn quire,\nWith unexpressive notes to Heaven's new-born Heir.\n\nSuch music (as 'tis said)\nBefore was never made,\nBut when of old the Sons of Morning sung,\nWhile the Creator great\nHis constellations set,\nAnd the well-balanc'd world on hinges hung,\nAnd cast the dark foundations deep,\nAnd bid the welt'ring waves their oozy channel keep.\n\nRing out, ye crystal spheres,\nOnce bless our human ears,\nIf ye have power to touch our senses so;\nAnd let your silver chime\nMove in melodious time,\nAnd let the bass of Heav'n's deep organ blow;\nAnd with your ninefold harmony\nMake up full consort to th' angelic symphony.\n\nFor if such holy song\nInwrap our fancy long,\nTime will run back, and fetch the age of gold,\nAnd speckled Vanity\nWill sicken soon and die,\nAnd leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould\nAnd Hell itself will pass away,\nAnd leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day.\n\nYea, Truth and Justice then\nWill down return to men,\nOrb'd in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing,\nMercy will set between,\nThroned in celestial sheen,\nWith radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering:\nAnd Heav'n, as at some festival,\nWill open wide the gates of her high palace hall.\n\nBut wisest Fate says, No.\nThis must not yet be so,\nThe Babe yet lies in smiling infancy,\nThat on the bitter cross\nMust redeem our loss;\nSo both himself and us to glorify;\nYet first to those ychain'd in sleep,\nThe wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep,\n\nWith such a horrid clang\nAs on Mount Sinai rang,\nWhile the red fire and smouldering clouds out-brake:\nThe aged Earth aghast,\nWith terror of that blast,\nShall from the surface to the centre shake;\nWhen at the world's last sessi\u00f2n,\nThe dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his throne.\n\nAnd then at last our bliss\nFull and perfect is,\nBut now begins; for from this happy day\nThe old Dragon under ground\nIn straiter limits bound,\nNot half so far casts his usurped sway,\nAnd wroth to see his kingdom fail,\nSwinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.\n\nThe oracles are dumb,\nNo voice or hideous hum\nRuns thro' the arched roof in words deceiving.\nApollo from his shrine\nCan no more divine,\nWith hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving.\nNo nightly trance or breath\u00e8d spell\nInspires the pale-ey'd priest from the prophetic cell.\n\nThe lonely mountains o'er,\nAnd the resounding shore,\nA voice of weeping heard, and loud lament;\nFrom haunted spring and dale\nEdg'd with poplar pale,\nThe parting Genius is with sighing sent;\nWith flow'r-inwoven tresses torn\nThe Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.\n\nIn consecrated earth,\nAnd on the holy hearth,\nThe Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight plaint;\nIn urns, and altars round,\nA drear and dying sound\nAffrights the Flamens at their service quaint;\nAnd the chill marble seems to sweat,\nWhile each peculiar Power forgoes his wonted seat.\n\nPeor and Ba\u00e4lim\nForsake their temples dim,\nWith that twice-batter'd god of Palestine;\nAnd moon\u00e8d Ashtaroth,\nHeaven's queen and mother both,\nNow sits not girt with tapers' holy shine;\nThe Lybic Hammon shrinks his horn.\nIn vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn.\n\nAnd sullen Moloch fled,\nHath left in shadows dread\nHis burning idol all of blackest hue;\nIn vain with cymbals' ring\nThey call the grisly king,\nIn dismal dance about the furnace blue:\nThe brutish gods of Nile as fast,\nIsis and Orus, and the dog Anubis haste.\n\nNor is Osiris seen\nIn Memphian grove or green,\nTrampling the unshow'r'd grass with lowings loud:\nNor can he be at rest\nWithin his sacred chest,\nNaught but profoundest hell can be his shroud;\nIn vain with timbrell'd anthems dark\nThe sable-stol\u00e8d sorcerers bear his worship'd ark.\n\nHe feels from Juda's land\nThe dreaded infant's hand,\nThe rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn;\nNot all the gods beside,\nLonger dare abide,\nNot Typhon huge ending in snaky twine:\nOur Babe, to show his Godhead true,\nCan in his swaddling bands control the damn\u00e8d crew.\n\nSo, when the sun in bed\nCurtain'd with cloudy red\nPillows his chin upon an orient wave,\nThe flocking shadows pale\nTroop to the infernal jail,\nEach fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave;\nAnd the yellow-skirted fays\nFly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved maze.\n\nBut see, the Virgin blest\nHath laid her Babe to rest;\nTime is, our tedious song should here have ending:\nHeaven's youngest-teem\u00e8d star\nHath fix'd her polish'd car,\nHer sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending:\nAnd all about the courtly stable\nBright-harness'd angels sit in order serviceable.\n\n_--J. Milton_\n\n\n\n\nTHE BURNING BABE\n\n\nAs I in hoary winter's night stood shivering in the snow,\nSurprised I was with sudden heat, which made my heart to glow;\nAnd lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near,\nA pretty babe, all burning bright, did in the air appear;\nWho, scorch\u00e8d with excessive heat, such floods of tears did shed,\nAs though his floods should quench his flames which with his\n     tears were fed:--\n\"Alas!\" quoth He, \"but newly born, in fiery heats I fry,\nYet none approach to warm their hearts or feel my fire but I!\nMy faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns;\nLove is the fire, and sighs the smoke, the ashes shame and scorns;\nThe fuel Justice layeth on, and Mercy blows the coals,\nThe metal in this furnace wrought are men's defil\u00e8d souls,\nFor which, as now on fire I am, to work them to their good,\nSo will I melt into a bath to wash them in my blood.\"--\nWith this He vanish'd out of sight, and swiftly shrunk away;\nAnd straight I called unto mind that it was Christmasday.\n\n_--R. Southwell_\n\n\n\n\nA CRADLE SONG.\n\n\nHush! my dear, lie still and slumber;\nHoly angels guard thy bed!\nHeavenly blessings without number\nGently falling on thy head.\n\nSleep, my babe; thy food and raiment,\nHouse and home, thy friends provide,\nAll without thy care or payment\nAll thy wants are well supplied.\n\nHow much better thou'rt attended\nThan the Son of God could be,\nWhen from heaven He descended,\nAnd became a child like thee!\n\nSoft and easy is thy cradle;\nCoarse and hard thy Saviour lay:\nWhen his birthplace was a stable,\nAnd his softest bed was hay.\n\nSee the kindly shepherds round him,\nTelling wonders from the sky!\nWhere they sought him, there they found him,\nWith his Virgin-Mother by.\n\nSee the lovely babe a-dressing:\nLovely infant, how he smiled!\nWhen he wept, the mother's blessing\nSoothed and hush'd the holy child.\n\nLo, he slumbers in his manger,\nWhere the horn\u00e8d oxen fed;\n--Peace, my darling! here's no danger!\nHere's no ox a-near thy bed!\n\n--May'st thou live to know and fear him,\nTrust and love him all thy days:\nThen go dwell forever near him;\nSee his face, and sing his praise.\n\nI could give thee thousand kisses,\nHoping what I most desire:\nNot a mother's fondest wishes\nCan to greater joys aspire.\n\n_--I. Watts_\n\n\n\n\nEASTER\n\n\nI got me flowers to straw Thy way,\nI got me boughs off many a tree;\nBut Thou wast up by break of day,\nAnd brought'st Thy sweets along with Thee.\n\nThe sun arising in the East,\nThough he give light, and th' East perfume,\nIf they should offer to contest\nWith Thy arising, they presume.\n\nCan there be any day but this,\nThough many suns to shine endeavor?\nWe count three hundred, but we miss:\nThere is but one, and that one ever.\n\n_--George Herbert_\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. PETER THE APOSTLE\n\n\nSt. Peter the apostle among all other, and above all other, was of most\nfervent and burning love, for he would have known the traitor that\nshould betray our Lord Jesu Christ, as St. Austin saith: If he had known\nhim he would have torn him with his teeth, and therefore our Lord would\nnot name him to him, for as Chrysostom, saith: If he had named him,\nPeter had arisen and all to-torn him. Peter went upon the sea; he was\nchosen of God to be at his transfiguration, and raised a maid from death\nto life; he found the stater or piece of money in the fish's mouth; he\nreceived of our Lord the keys of the kingdom of heaven; he took the\ncharge to feed the sheep of Jesu Christ. He converted at a Whitsuntide\nthree thousand men, he healed Claude with John, and then converted five\nthousand men; he said to Ananias and Saphira their death before; he\nhealed \u00c6neas of the palsy; he raised Tabitha; he baptized Cornelia; with\nthe shadow of his body he healed sick men; he was put in prison by\nHerod, but by the angel of our Lord he was delivered. What his meat was\nand his clothing, the book of St. Clement witnesseth, for he said: Bread\nonly with olives, and seldom with worts, is mine usage, and I have such\nclothing as thou seest, a coat and a mantle, and when I have that, I\ndemand no more. It is said for certain that he bare always a sudary in\nhis bosom, with which he wiped the tears that ran from his eyes; for\nwhen he remembered the sweet presence of our Lord, for the great love\nthat he had to him he might not forbear weeping. And also when he\nremembered that he had renied him, he wept abundantly great plenty of\ntears, in such wise that he was so accustomed to weep that his face was\nburned with tears as it seemed, like as Clement saith. And saith also\nthat in the night when he heard the cock crow he would weep customably.\nAnd after that it is read in Historia Ecclesiastica that, when St.\nPeter's wife was led to her passion, he had great joy and called her by\nher proper name, and said to her: My wife, remember thee of our Lord.\n\nOn a time when St. Peter had sent two of his disciples for to preach the\nfaith of Jesu Christ, and when they had gone twenty days' journey, one\nof them died, and that other then returned to St. Peter and told him\nwhat had happened, some say that it was St. Marcial that so died, and\nsome say it was St. Maternus, and others say that it was St. Frank. Then\nSt. Peter gave to him his staff and commanded that he should return to\nhis fellow, and lay it upon him, which he so did, then he which had been\nforty days dead, anon arose all living.\n\nThat time Simon the enchanter was in Jerusalem, and he said he was first\ntruth, and affirmed that who that would believe in him he would make\nthem perpetual. And he also said that nothing to him was impossible. It\nis read in the book of St. Clement that he said that he should be\nworshipped of all men as God, and that he might do all that he would.\nAnd he said yet more: When my mother Rachel commanded me that I should\ngo reap corn in the field, and saw the sickle ready to reap with, I\ncommanded the sickle to reap by itself alone, and it reaped ten times\nmore than any other. And yet he added hereto more, after Jerome, and\nsaid: I am the Word of God, I am the Holy Ghost, I am Almighty, I am all\nthat is of God. He made serpents of brass to move, and made the images\nof iron and of stone to laugh, and dogs to sing, and as St. Linus saith,\nhe would dispute with St. Peter and show, at a day assigned, that he was\nGod. And Peter came to the place where the strife should be, and said to\nthem that were there: Peace to you brethren that love truth. To whom\nSimon said: We have none need of thy peace, for if peace and concord\nwere made, we should not profit to find the truth, for thieves have\npeace among them. And therefore desire no peace but battle, for when two\nmen fight and one is overcome then is it peace. Then said Peter: Why\ndreadest thou to hear of peace? Of sins grow battles, where is no sin\nthere is peace; in disputing is truth found, and in works righteousness.\nThen said Simon: It is not as thou sayest, but I shall show to thee the\npower of my dignity, that anon thou shalt adore me; I am first truth,\nand may flee by the air; I can make new trees and turn stones into\nbread; endure in the fire without hurting; and all that I will I may do.\nSt. Peter disputed against all these, and disclosed all his malefices.\nThen Simon Magus, seeing that he might not resist Peter, cast all his\nbooks into the sea, lest St. Peter should prove him a magician, by his\nbooks, and went to Rome where he was had and reputed as a god. And when\nPeter knew that, he followed and came to Rome. The fourth year of\nClaudius the emperor, Peter came to Rome, and sat there twenty-five\nyears, and ordained two bishops as his helpers, Linus and Cletus, one\nwithin the walls, and that other without. He entended much to preaching\nof the Word of God, by which he converted much people to the faith of\nChrist, and healed many sick men, and in his preaching always he praised\nand preferred chastity. He converted four concubines, of Agrippa the\nprovost, so that they would no more come to him, wherefore the provost\nsought occasion against Peter.\n\nAfter this, our Lord appeared to St. Peter, saying to him: Simon Magus\nand Nero purpose against thee, dread thee not, for I am with thee, and\nshall give to thee the solace of my servant Paul, which to-morn shall\ncome in to Rome. Then Peter, knowing that he should not long abide here,\nassembled all his brethren, and took Clement by the hand and ordained\nhim a bishop, and made him to sit in his own seat. After this, as our\nLord had said tofore, Paul came to Rome, and with Peter began to preach\nthe faith of Christ.\n\nSimon Magus was so much beloved of Nero that he weened that he had been\nthe keeper of his life, of his health, and of all the city. On a day, as\nLeo the pope saith, as he stood tofore Nero, suddenly his visage\nchanged, now old and now young, which, when Nero saw, he supposed that\nhe had been the son of God. Then said Simon Magus to Nero: Because that\nthou shalt know me to be the very son of God, command my head to be\nsmitten off and I shall arise again the third day. Then Nero commanded\nto his brother to smite off his head, and when he supposed to have\nbeheaded Simon, he beheaded a ram. Simon, by his art magic went away\nunhurt, and gathered together the members of the ram, and hid him three\ndays. The blood of the ram abode and congealed. The third day he came\nand showed him to Nero, saying: Command my blood to be washed away, for\nlo I am he that was beheaded, and as I promised I have risen again the\nthird day. Whom Nero seeing, was abashed and trowed verily that he had\nbeen the son of God. All this saith Leo. Sometime also, when he was with\nNero secretly within his conclave, the devil in his likeness spake\nwithout to the people. Then the Romans had him in such worship that they\nmade to him an image, and wrote above, this title: To Simon the holy\nGod. Peter and Paul entered to Nero and discovered all the enchantments\nand malefices of Simon Magus, and Peter added thereto, seeing that like\nas in Christ be two substances that is of God and man, so are in this\nmagician two substances, that is of man and of the devil. Then said\nSimon Magus, as St. Marcelle and Leo witness, lest I should suffer any\nlonger this enemy, I shall command my angels that they shall avenge me\non him. To whom Peter said: I dread nothing thine angels, but they\ndread me. Nero said: Dreadest thou not Simon, that by certain things\naffirmeth his godhead? To whom Peter said: If dignity or godhead be in\nhim let him tell now what I think or what I do, which thought I shall\nfirst tell to thee, that he shall not mow lie what I think. To whom Nero\nsaid: Come hither and say what thou thinkest. Then Peter went to him and\nsaid to him secretly: Command some man to bring to me a barley-loaf, and\ndeliver it to me privily. When it was taken to him, he blessed it, and\nhid it under his sleeve, and then said he: Now Simon say what I think,\nand have said and done. Simon answered: Let Peter say what I think.\nPeter answered: What Simon thinketh that I know, I shall do it when he\nhath thought. Then Simon having indignation, cried aloud: I command that\ndogs come and devour him. And suddenly there appeared great dogs and\nmade an assault against Peter. He gave to them of the bread that he had\nblessed, and suddenly he made them to flee. Then said Peter to Nero: Lo!\nI have showed you what he thought against me, not in words but in deeds,\nfor where he promised angels to come against me he brought dogs, thereby\nhe showeth that he hath none angels but dogs. Then said Simon: Hear ye,\nPeter and Paul; if I may not grieve you here, ye shall come where me it\nshall behove to judge you. I shall spare you here. H\u00e6c Leo. Then Simon\nMagus, as Hegesippus and Linus say, elate in pride avaunted him that he\ncan raise dead men to life. And it happed that there was a young man\ndead, and then Nero let call Peter and Simon, and all gave sentence by\nthe will of Simon that he should be slain that might not arise the dead\nman to life. Simon then, as he made his incantations upon the dead body,\nhe was seen move his head of them that stood by; then all they cried for\nto stone Peter. Peter unnethe getting silence said: If the dead body\nlive, let him arise, walk and speak, else know ye that it is a fantasy\nthat the head of the dead man moveth. Let Simon be taken from the bed.\nAnd the body abode immovable. Peter standing afar making his prayer\ncried to the dead body, saying: Young man, arise in the name of Jesu\nChrist of Nazareth crucified, and anon, he arose living, and walked.\nThen, when the people would have stoned Simon Magus, Peter said: He is\nin pain enough, knowing him to be overcome in his heart; our master hath\ntaught us for to do good for evil. Then said Simon to Peter and Paul:\nYet is it not come to you that ye desire, for ye be not worthy to have\nmartyrdom, the which answered: That is, that we desire to have, to thee\nshall never be well, for thou liest all that thou sayest.\n\nThen as Marcel saith: Simon went to the house of Marcel and bound there\na great black dog at the door of the house, and said: Now I shall see if\nPeter, which is accustomed to come hither, shall come, and if he come\nthis dog shall strangle him. And a little after that, Peter and Paul\nwent thither, and anon Peter made the sign of the cross and unbound the\nhound, and the hound was as tame and meek as a lamb, and pursued none\nbut Simon, and went to him and took and cast him to the ground under\nhim, and would have strangled him. And then ran Peter to him and cried\nupon the hound that he should not do him any harm. And anon the hound\nleft and touched not his body, but he all torent and tare his gown in\nsuch wise that he was almost naked. Then all the people, and especially\nchildren, ran with the hound upon him and hunted and chased him out of\nthe town as he had been a wolf. Then for the reproof and shame he durst\nnot come in to the town of all a whole year after. Then Marcel that was\ndisciple of Simon Magus, seeing these great miracles, came to Peter, and\nwas from then forthon his disciple.\n\nAnd after, at the end of the year, Simon returned and was received again\ninto the amity of Nero. And then, as Leo saith, this Simon Magus\nassembled the people and showed to them how he had been angered of the\nGalileans, and therefore he said that he would leave the city which he\nwas wont to defend and keep, and set a day in which he would ascend into\nheaven, for he deigned no more to dwell in the earth. Then on the day\nthat he had stablished, like as he had said, he went up to an high\ntower, which was on the capitol, and there being crowned with laurel,\nthrew himself out from place to place, and began to fly in the air. Then\nsaid St. Paul to St. Peter: It appertaineth to me to pray, and to thee\nfor to command. Then said Nero: This man is very God, and ye be two\ntraitors. Then said St. Peter to St. Paul: Paul, brother, lift up thine\nhead and see how Simon flyeth. Then St. Paul said to St. Peter when he\nsaw him fly so high: Peter, why tarriest thou? perform that thou hast\nbegun, God now calleth us. Then said Peter: I charge and conjure you\nangels of Sathanas, which bear him in the air, by the name of our Lord\nJesu Christ, that ye bear ne sustain him no more, but let him fall to\nthe earth. And anon they let him fall to the ground and brake his neck\nand head, and he died there forthwith. And when Nero heard say that\nSimon was dead, and that he had lost such a man, he was sorrowful, and\nsaid to the apostles: Ye have done this in despite of me, and therefore\nI shall destroy you by right evil example. H\u00e6c Leo. Then he delivered\nthem to Paulin, which was a much noble man, and Paulin delivered them to\nMamertin under the keeping of two knights, Processe and Martinian, whom\nSt. Peter converted to the faith. And they then opened the prison and\nlet them all go out that would go, wherefore, after the passion of the\napostles, Paulin, when he knew that they were Christian, beheaded both\nProcesse and Martinian.\n\nThe brethren then, when the prison was opened, prayed Peter to go\nthence, and he would not, but at the last he being overcome by their\nprayers went away. And when he came to the gate, as, Leo witnesseth,\nwhich is called Sancta Maria ad passus, he met Jesu Christ coming\nagainst him, and Peter said to him: Lord, whither goest thou? And he\nsaid to him: I go to Rome for to be crucified again, and Peter demanded\nhim: Lord, shalt thou be crucified again? And he said: Yea, and Peter\nsaid then: Lord, I shall return again then for to be crucified with\nthee. This said, our Lord ascended into heaven, Peter beholding it,\nwhich wept sore. And when Peter understood that our Lord had said to him\nof his passion, he returned, and when he came to his brethren, he told\nto them what our Lord had said. And anon he was taken of the ministers\nof Nero and was delivered to the provost Agrippa, then was his face as\nclear as the sun, as it is said. Then Agrippa said to him: Thou art he\nthat glorifiest in the people, and in women, that thou departest from\nthe bed of their husbands. Whom the apostle blamed, and said to him that\nhe glorified in the cross of the Lord Jesu Christ. Then Peter was\ncommanded to be crucified as a stranger, and because that Paul was a\ncitizen of Rome it was commanded that his head should be smitten off.\nAnd of this sentence given against them, St. Dionysius in an epistle to\nTimothy saith in this wise: O my brother Timothy, if thou hadst seen the\nagonies of the end of them thou shouldst have failed for heaviness and\nsorrow. Who should not weep that hour when the commandment of the\nsentence was given against them, that Peter should be crucified and Paul\nbe beheaded? Thou shouldst then have seen the turbes of the Jews and of\nthe paynims that smote them and spit in their visages. And when the\nhorrible time came of their end that they were departed that one from\nthat other, they bound the pillars of the world, but that was not\nwithout wailing and weeping of the brethren. Then said St. Paul to St.\nPeter: Peace be with thee that are foundement of the church and pastor\nof the sheep and lambs of our Lord. Peter then said to Paul: Go thou in\npeace, preacher of good manners, mediator, leader, and solace of\nrightful people. And when they were withdrawn far from other I followed\nmy master. They were not both slain in one street. This saith St.\nDionysius, and as Leo the pope and Marcel witness, when Peter came to\nthe cross, he said: When my Lord descended from heaven to the earth he\nwas put on the cross right up, but me whom it pleaseth him to call from\nthe earth to heaven, my cross shall show my head to the earth and\naddress my feet to heaven, for I am not worthy to be put on the cross\nlike as my Lord was, therefore turn my cross and crucify me my head\ndownward. Then they turned the cross, and fastened his feet upward and\nthe head downward. Then the people were angry against Nero and the\nprovost, and would have slain them because they made St. Peter so to\ndie; but he required them that they should not let his passion, and as\nLeo witnesseth, our Lord opened the eyes of them that were there, and\nwept so that, they saw the angels with crowns of roses and of lilies\nstanding by Peter that was on the cross with the angels.\n\nAnd then Peter received a book of our Lord, wherein he learned the words\nthat he said. Then as Hegesippus saith: Peter said thus: Lord, I have\ndesired much to follow thee, but to be crucified upright I have not\nusurped, thou art always rightful, high and sovereign, and we be sons of\nthe first man which have the head inclined to the earth, of whom the\nfall signifieth the form of the generation human. Also we be born that\nwe be seen inclined to the earth by effect, and the condition is changed\nfor the world weeneth that such thing is good, which is evil and bad.\nLord, thou art all things to me, and nothing is to me but thou only, I\nyield to thee thankings with all the spirit of which I live, by which I\nunderstand, and by whom I call thee. And when St. Peter saw that the\ngood Christian men saw his glory, in yielding thankings to God and\ncommending good people to him, he rendered up his spirit. Then Marcel\nand Apuleius his brother, that were his disciples, took off the body\nfrom the cross when he was dead, and anointed it with much precious\nointment, and buried him honorably. Isidore saith in the book of the\nnativity and death of saints thus: Peter, after that he had governed\nAntioch, he founded a church under Claudius the emperor, he went to Rome\nagainst Simon Magus, there he preached the gospel twenty-five years and\nheld the bishopric, and thirty-six years after the passion of our Lord\nhe was crucified by Nero turned the head downward, for he would be so\ncrucified: H\u00e6c Isidorus.\n\nThat same day Peter and Paul appeared to St. Dionysius, as he saith in\nhis foresaid epistle in these words: Understand the miracle and see the\nprodigy, my brother Timothy, of the day of the martyrdom of them, for I\nwas ready in the time of departing of them. After their death I saw\nthem together, hand in hand, entering the gates of the city, and clad\nwith clothes of light, and arrayed with crowns of clearness and light.\nH\u00e6c Dionysius.\n\nNero was not unpunished for their death and other great sins and\ntyrannies that he committed, for he slew himself with his own hand,\nwhich tyrannies were overlong to tell, but shortly I shall rehearse here\nsome. He slew his master Seneca because he was afraid of him when he\nwent to school. Also Nero slew his mother. Then for his pleasure he set\nRome afire, which burned seven days and seven nights, and was in a high\ntower and enjoyed him to see so great a flame of fire, and sang merrily.\nHe slew the senators of Rome to see what sorrow and lamentation their\nwives would make. He fished with nets of gold thread, and the garment\nthat he had worn one day he would never wear it ne see it after. Then\nthe Romans seeing his woodness [madness], assailed him and pursued him\nunto without the city, and when he saw he might not escape them, he took\na stake and sharped it with his teeth, and therewith stuck himself\nthrough the body and so slew himself. In another place it is read that\nhe was devoured of wolves. Then the Romans returned and found the frog,\nand threw it out of the city and there burned it.\n\nIn the time of St. Cornelius the pope, Greeks stole away the bodies of\nthe apostles Peter and Paul, but the devils that were in the idols were\nconstrained by the divine virtue of God, and cried and said: Ye men of\nRome, succor hastily your gods which be stolen from you; for which thing\nthe good Christian people understood that they were the bodies of Peter\nand Paul. And the Paynims had supposed that it had been their gods. Then\nassembled great number of Christian men and of Paynims also, and pursued\nso long the Greeks that they doubted to have been slain, and threw the\nbodies in a pit at the catacombs, but afterward they were drawn out by\nChristian men. St. Gregory saith that the great force of thunder and\nlightning that came from heaven made them so afraid that they departed\neach from other, and so left the bodies of the apostles at the catacombs\nin a pit, but they doubted which bones were Peter's and which Paul's,\nwherefore the good Christian men put them to prayers and fastings, and\nit was answered them from heaven that the great bones longed to the\npreacher, and the less to the fisher, and so were departed, and the\nbones were put in the church of him that it was dedicate of. And others\nsay that Silvester the pope would hallow the churches and took all the\nbones together, and departed them by weight, great and small, and put\nthat one-half in one church, and that other half in that other.\n\nAnd St. Gregory recounteth in his dialogues that, in the church of St.\nPeter, where his bones rest, was a man of great holiness and of meekness\nnamed Gentian, and there came a maid into the church which was cripple,\nand drew her body and legs after her with her hands, and when she had\nlong required and prayed St. Peter for health, he appeared to her in a\nvision, and said to her: Go to Gentian, my servant, and he shall restore\nthy health. Then began she to creep here and there through the church,\nand inquired who was Gentian, and suddenly it happed that he came to her\nthat him sought, and she said to him: The holy apostle St. Peter sent me\nto thee that thou shouldest make me whole and deliver me from my\ndisease, and he answered: If thou be sent to me from him, arise thou\nanon and go on thy feet. And he took her by the hand and anon she was\nall whole, in such wise as she felt nothing of her grief nor malady, and\nthen she thanked God and St. Peter.\n\nAnd in the same book St. Gregory saith when that a holy priest was come\nto the end of his life, he began to cry in great gladness: Ye be\nwelcome, my lords, ye be welcome that ye vouchsafe to come to so little\nand poor a servant, and he said: I shall come and thank you. Then they\nthat stood by demanded who they were that he spake to, and he said to\nthem wondering: Have ye not seen the blessed apostles Peter and Paul?\nand as he cried again, his blessed soul departed from the flesh.\n\nSome have doubt whether Peter and Paul suffered death in one day, for\nsome say it was the same one day, but one a year after the other. And\nJerome and all the Saints that treat of this matter accord that it was\non one day and one year, and so is it contained in an epistle of Denis,\nand Leo the pope saith the same in a sermon, saying: We suppose but that\nit was not done without cause that they suffered in one day and in one\nplace the sentence of the tyrant, and they suffered death in one time,\nto the end that they should go together to Jesu Christ, and both under\none persecutor to the end that equal cruelty should strain that one and\nthat other. The day for their merit, the place for their glory, and the\npersecution overcome by virtue.\n\nThough they suffered both death in one day and in one hour, yet it was\nnot in one place but in diverse within Rome, and hereof saith a\nversifier in this wise: Ense coronatus Paulus, cruce Petrus, eodem--Sub\nduce, luce, loco, dux Nero, Roma locus. That is to say, Paul crowned\nwith the sword, and Peter had the cross reversed, the place was the city\nof Rome. And howbeit that they suffered death in one day, yet St.\nGregory ordained that that day specially should be the solemnity of St.\nPeter, and the next day commemoration of St. Paul, for the church of St.\nPeter was hallowed that same day, and also forasmuch as he was more in\ndignity, and first in conversion, and held the principality at Rome.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE\n\n\nSt. Paul the apostle, after his conversion, suffered many persecutions,\nthe which the blessed Hilary rehearseth shortly, saying: Paul the\nApostle was beaten with rods at Philippi, he was put in prison, and by\nthe feet fast set in stocks, he was stoned in Lystra. In Iconia and\nThessalonica he was pursued of wicked people. In Ephesus he was\ndelivered to wild beasts. In Damascus he was let by a lepe down of the\nwall. In Jerusalem he was arrested, beaten, bound, and awaited to be\nslain. In C\u00e6sarea he was inclosed and defamed. Sailing toward Italy he\nwas in peril of death, and from thence he came to Rome and was judged\nunder Nero, and there finished his life. This saith St. Hilary: Paul\ntook upon him to be apostle among the Gentiles. In Lystra was a contract\nwhich he lost and redressed. A young man that fell out of a window and\ndied, he raised to life, and did many other miracles. At the Isle of\nMelita a serpent bit his hand, and hurted him not, and he threw it into\nthe fire. It is said that all they that came of the progeny and lineage\nof that man that then harbored Paul may in no wise be hurt of no\nvenemous beasts, wherefore when their children be born they put serpents\nin their cradles for to prove if they be verily their children or no. In\nsome place it is said that Paul is less than Peter, otherwhile more,\nand sometimes equal and like, for in dignity he is less, in preaching\ngreater, and in holiness they be equal. Haymo saith that Paul, from the\ncock-crow until the hour of five, he labored with his hands, and after\nentended to preaching, and that endured almost to night, the residue of\nthe time was for to eat, sleep, and for prayer, which was necessary. He\ncame to Rome when Nero was not fully confirmed in the empire, and Nero\nhearing that there was disputing and questions made between Paul and the\nJews, he, recking not much thereof, suffered Paul to go where he would,\nand preach freely. Jeronimus saith in his book, De viris illustribus,\nthat the thirty-sixth year after the Passion of our Lord, the second\nyear of Nero, St. Paul was sent to Rome bound, and two years he was in\nfree keeping and disputed against the Jews, and after, he was let go by\nNero, and preached the gospel in the west parts. And the fourteenth year\nof Nero, the same year and day that Peter was crucified, his head was\nsmitten off. H\u00e6c Jeronimus. The wisdom and religion of him was published\nover all, and was reputed marvellous. He gat to him many friends in the\nemperor's house and converted them to the faith of Christ, and some of\nhis writings were recited and read tofore the emperor, and of all men\nmarvellously commended, and the senate understood of him by things of\nauthority.\n\nIt happed on a day that Paul preached about evensong time in a loft, a\nyoung man named Patroclus, butler of Nero, and with him well-beloved,\nwent for to see the multitude of people, and the better for to hear\nPaul he went up into a window, and there sleeping, fell down and died,\nwhich when Nero heard he was much sorry and heavy therefor, and anon\nordered another in his office. Paul knowing hereof by the Holy Ghost,\nsaid to them standing by him that they should go and bring to him\nPatroclus, which was dead, and that the emperor loved so much. Whom when\nhe was brought, he raised to life and sent him with his fellows to the\nemperor, whom the emperor knew for dead, and, while he made lamentation\nfor him, it was told to the emperor that Patroclus was come to the gate.\nAnd when he heard that Patroclus was alive he much marvelled, and\ncommanded that he should come in. To whom Nero said: Patroclus, livest\nthou? And he said: Yea, emperor, I live; and Nero said: Who hath made\nthee to live again? And he said: The Lord Jesu Christ, king of all\nworlds. Then Nero being wroth said: Then shall he reign ever and resolve\nall the royaumes of the world? To whom Patroclus said: Yea, certainly,\nemperor; then Nero gave to him a buffet, saying: Therefore thou servest\nhim, and he said: Yea, verily, I serve him that hath raised me from\ndeath to life. Then five of the ministers of Nero, that assisted him,\nsaid to him: O emperor, why smitest thou this young man, truly and\nwisely answering to thee? Trust verily we serve that same King Almighty.\nAnd when Nero heard that he put them in prison, for strongly to torment\nthem, whom he much had loved. Then he made to inquire and to take all\nChristian men, and without examination made them to be tormented with\novergreat torments. Then was Paul among others bound and brought tofore\nNero, to whom Nero said: O thou man, servant of the great King, bound\ntofore me, why withdrawest thou my knights and drawest them to thee? To\nwhom Paul said: Not only from thy corner I have gathered knights, but\nalso I gather from the universal world to my Lord, to whom our king\ngiveth such gifts that never shall fail, and granteth that they shall be\nexcluded from all indigence and need; and if thou wilt be to him\nsubject, thou shalt be safe, for he is of so great power that he shall\ncome and judge all the world, and destroy the figure thereof by fire.\nAnd when Nero heard that he should destroy the figure of the world by\nfire, he commanded that all the Christian men should be burned by fire,\nand Paul to be beheaded, as he that is guilty against his majesty. And\nso great a multitude of Christian people were slain then, that the\npeople of Rome brake up his palace and cried and moved sedition against\nhim, saying: C\u00e6sar, amend thy manners and attemper thy commandments, for\nthese be our people that thou destroyest, and defend the empire of Rome.\nThe emperor then dreading the noise of the people, changed his decree\nand edict that no man should touch ne hurt no Christian man till the\nemperor had otherwise ordained, wherefore Paul was brought again tofore\nNero, whom as soon as Nero saw, he cried and said: Take away this wicked\nman and behead him, and suffer him no longer to live upon the earth. To\nwhom Paul said: Nero, I shall suffer a little while, but I shall live\neternally with my Lord Jesu Christ. Nero said: Smite off his head, that\nhe may understand me stronger than his king, that when he is overcome we\nmay see whether he may live after. To whom Paul said: To the end that\nthou know me to live everlastingly, when my head shall be smitten off, I\nshall appear to thee living, and then thou mayst know that Christ is God\nof life and of death. And when he had said this he was led to the place\nof his martyrdom, and as he was led, the three knights that led him said\nto him: Tell to us, Paul, who is he your king that ye love so much that\nfor his love ye had liefer die than live, and what reward shall ye have\ntherefor? Then Paul preached to them of the kingdom of heaven and of the\npain of hell, in such wise that he converted them to the faith, and they\nprayed him to go freely whither he would. God forbid, brethren, said he,\nthat I should flee, I am not fugitive, but the lawful knight of Christ.\nI know well that from this transitory life I shall go to everlasting\nlife. As soon as I shall be beheaded, true men shall take away my body;\nmark ye well the place, and come thither to-morrow, and ye shall find by\nmy sepulchre two men, Luke and Titus, praying. To whom when ye shall\ntell for what cause I have sent you to them, they shall baptize you and\nmake you heirs of the kingdom of heaven.\n\nAnd whiles they thus spake together, Nero sent two knights to look if he\nwere slain and beheaded or no, and when thus St. Paul would have\nconverted them, they said: When thou art dead and risest again, then we\nshall believe, now come forth and receive that thou hast deserved. And\nas he was led to the place of his passion in the gate of Hostence, a\nnoble woman named Plautilla, a disciple of Paul, who after another name\nwas called Lemobia, for haply she had two names, met there with Paul,\nwhich weeping, commended her to his prayers. To whom Paul said:\nFarewell, Plautilla, daughter of everlasting health, lend to me thy veil\nor keverchief with which thou coverest thy head, that I may bind mine\neyes therewith, and afterward I shall restore it to thee again. And when\nshe had delivered it to him, the butchers scorned her, saying: Why hast\nthou delivered to this enchanter so precious a cloth for to lose it?\nThen, when he came to the place of his passion, he turned him toward the\neast, holding his hands up to heaven right long, with tears praying in\nhis own language and thanking our Lord; and after that bade his brethren\nfarewell, and bound his eyes himself with the keverchief of Plautilla,\nand kneeling down on both knees, stretched forth his neck, and so was\nbeheaded. And as soon as the head was from the body, it said: Jesus\nChristus! which had been to him so sweet in his life. It is said that he\nnamed Jesus or Christus, or both, fifty times. From his wound sprang out\nmilk into the clothes of the knight, and afterward flowed out blood. In\nthe air was a great shining light, and from the body came a much sweet\nodor.\n\nDionysius, in an epistle to Timothy, saith of the death of Paul thus: In\nthat hour full of heaviness, my well-beloved brother, the butcher,\nsaying: Paul, make ready thy neck; then blessed Paul looked up into\nheaven marking his forehead and his breast with the sign of the cross,\nand then said anon: My Lord Jesus Christ, into thy hands I commend my\nspirit, etc. And then without heaviness and compulsion he stretched\nforth his neck and received the crown of martyrdom, the butcher so\nsmiting off his head. The blessed martyr Paul took the keverchief, and\nunbound his eyes, and gathered up his own blood, and put it therein and\ndelivered to the woman, Then the butcher returned, and Plautilla met him\nand demanded him, saying: Where hast thou left my master? The knight\nanswered: He lieth without the town with one of his fellows, and his\nvisage is covered with thy keverchief, and she answered and said: I have\nnow seen Peter and Paul enter into the city clad with right noble\nvestments, and also they had right fair crowns upon their heads, more\nclear and more shining than the sun, and hath brought again my\nkeverchief all bloody which he hath delivered me. For which thing and\nwork many believed in our Lord and were baptized. And this is that St.\nDionysius saith. And when Nero heard say this thing he doubted him, and\nbegan to speak of all these things with his philosophers and with his\nfriends; and as they spake together of this matter, Paul came in, and\nthe gates shut, and stood tofore C\u00e6sar and said: C\u00e6sar, here is tofore\nthee Paul the knight of the king perdurable, and not vanquished. Now\nbelieve then certainly that I am not dead but alive, but thou, caitiff,\nthou shalt die of an evil death, because thou hast slain the servants\nof God. And when he had said thus he vanished away. And Nero, what for\ndread and what for anger, he was nigh out of his wit, and wist not what\nto do. Then by the counsel of his friends he unbound Patroclus and\nBarnabas and let them go where they would.\n\nAnd the other knights, Longinus, master of the knights, and Accestus,\ncame on the morn to the sepulchre of Paul, and there they found two men\npraying, that were Luke and Titus, and between them was Paul. And when\nLuke and Titus saw them they were abashed and began to flee, and anon\nPaul vanished away, and the knights cried after them and said: We come\nnot to grieve you, but know ye for truth that we come for to be baptized\nof you, like as Paul hath said whom we saw now praying with you. When\nthey heard that they returned and baptized them with great joy. The head\nof St. Paul was cast in a valley, and for the multitude of other heads\nof men that were slain and thrown there, it could not be known which it\nwas.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. CHRISTOPHER\n\n\nChristopher tofore his baptism was named Reprobus, but afterward he was\nnamed Christopher, which is as much to say as bearing Christ.\nChristopher was of the lineage of the Canaanites, and he was of a right\ngreat stature, and had a terrible and fearful cheer and countenance. And\nhe was twelve cubits of length, and as it is read in some histories\nthat, when he served and dwelled with the king of Canaan, it came in his\nmind that he would seek the greatest prince that was in the world, and\nhim would he serve and obey. And so far he went that he came to a right\ngreat king, of whom the renomee generally was that he was the greatest\nof the world. And when the king saw him, he received him into his\nservice, and made him to dwell in his court. Upon a time a minstrel sang\ntofore him a song in which he named oft the devil, and the king, which\nwas a Christian man, when he heard him name the devil, made anon the\nsign of the cross in his visage. And when Christopher saw that, he had\ngreat marvel what sign it was, and wherefore the king made it, and he\ndemanded of him. And because the king would not say, he said: If thou\ntell me not, I shall no longer dwell with thee, and then the king told\nto him, saying: Alway when I hear the devil named, I fear that he\nshould have power over me, and I garnish me with this sign that he\ngrieve not ne annoy me. Then Christopher said to him: Doubtest thou the\ndevil that he hurt thee not? Then is the devil more mighty and greater\nthan thou art. I am then deceived of my hope and purpose, for I had\nsupposed I had found the most mighty and the most greatest Lord of the\nworld, but I commend thee to God, for I will go seek him for to be my\nLord, and I his servant. And then departed from this king, and hasted\nhim for to seek the devil.\n\nAnd as he went by a great desert, he saw a great company of knights, of\nwhich a knight cruel and horrible came to him and demanded whither he\nwent, and Christopher answered to him and said: I go seek the devil for\nto be my master. And he said: I am he that thou seekest. And then\nChristopher was glad, and bound him to be his servant perpetual, and\ntook him for his master and Lord. And as they went together by a common\nway, they found there a cross, erect and standing. And anon as the devil\nsaw the cross he was afeard and fled, and left the right way, and\nbrought Christopher about by a sharp desert. And after, when they were\npast the cross, he brought him to the highway that they had left. And\nwhen Christopher saw that, he marvelled, and demanded whereof he\ndoubted, and had left the high and fair way, and had gone so far about\nby so aspre a desert. And the devil would not tell him in no wise. Then\nChristopher said to him: If thou wilt not tell me, I shall anon depart\nfrom thee, and shall serve thee no more. Wherefor the devil was\nconstrained to tell him, and said: There was a man called Christ which\nwas hanged on the cross, and when I see his sign I am sore afraid, and\nflee from it wheresoever I see it. To whom Christopher said: Then he is\ngreater, and more mightier than thou, when thou art afraid of his sign,\nand I see well that I have labored in vain, when I have not founden the\ngreatest Lord of the world. And I will serve thee no longer, go thy way\nthen, for I will go seek Christ. And when he had long sought and\ndemanded where he should find Christ, at last he came into a great\ndesert, to an hermit that dwelt there, and this hermit preached to him\nof Jesu Christ and informed him in the faith diligently, and said to\nhim: This king whom thou desirest to serve, requireth the service that\nthou must oft fast. And Christopher said to him: Require of me some\nother thing, and I shall do it, for that which thou requirest I may not\ndo. And the hermit said: Thou must then wake and make many prayers. And\nChristopher said to him: I wot not what it is; I may do no such thing.\nAnd then the hermit said to him: Knowest thou such a river, in which\nmany be perished and lost? To whom Christopher said: I know it well.\nThen said the hermit: Because thou art noble and high of stature and\nstrong in thy members, thou shalt be resident by that river, and thou\nshalt bear over all them that shall pass there, which shall be a thing\nright convenable to our Lord Jesu Christ whom thou desirest to serve,\nand I hope he shall show himself to thee. Then said Christopher:\nCertes, this service may I well do, and I promise to him for to do it.\nThen went Christopher to this river, and made there his habitacle for\nhim, and bare a great pole in his hand instead of a staff, by which he\nsustained him in the water, and bare over all manner of people without\nceasing. And there he abode, thus doing, many days. And in a time, as he\nslept in his lodge, he heard the voice of a child which called him and\nsaid: Christopher, come out and bear me over. Then he awoke and went\nout, but he found no man. And when he was again in his house, he heard\nthe same voice and he ran Out and found nobody. The third time he was\ncalled and came thither, and found a child beside the rivage of the\nriver, which prayed him goodly to bear him over the water. And then\nChristopher lift up the child on his shoulders, and took his staff, and\nentered into the river for to pass. And the water of the river arose and\nswelled more and more: and the child was heavy as lead, and alway as he\nwent further the water increased and grew more, and the child more and\nmore waxed heavy, insomuch that Christopher had great anguish and was\nafeard to be drowned. And when he was escaped with great pain, and\npassed the water, and set the child aground, he said to the child:\nChild, thou hast put me in great peril; thou weighest almost as I had\nall the world upon me, I might bear no greater burden. And the child\nanswered: Christopher, marvel thee nothing, for thou hast not only borne\nall the world upon thee, but thou hast borne him that created and made\nall the world, upon thy shoulders. I am Jesu Christ the king, to whom\nthou servest in this work. And because that thou know that I say to be\nthe truth, set thy staff in the earth by thy house, and thou shalt see\nto-morn that it shall bear flowers and fruit, and anon he vanished from\nhis eyes. And then Christopher set his staff in the earth, and when he\narose on the morn, he found his staff like a palmier bearing flowers,\nleaves and dates.\n\nAnd then Christopher went into the city of Lycia, and understood not\ntheir language. Then he prayed our Lord that he might understand them,\nand so he did. And as he was in this prayer, the judges supposed that he\nhad been a fool, and left him there. And then when Christopher\nunderstood the language, he covered his visage and went to the place\nwhere they martyred Christian men, and comforted them in our Lord. And\nthen the judges smote him in the face, and Christopher said to them: If\nI were not Christian I should avenge mine injury. And then Christopher\npitched his rod in the earth, and prayed to our Lord that for to convert\nthe people it might bear flowers and fruit, and anon it did so. And then\nhe converted eight thousand men. And then the king sent two knights for\nto fetch him to the king, and they found him praying, and durst not tell\nto him so. And anon after, the king sent as many more, and they anon set\nthem down for to pray with him. And when Christopher arose, he said to\nthem: What seek ye? And when they saw him in the visage they said to\nhim: The king hath sent us, that we should lead thee bound unto him.\nAnd Christopher said to them: If I would, ye should not lead me to him,\nbound ne unbound. And they said to him: If thou wilt go thy way, go\nquit, where thou wilt. And we shall say to the king that we have not\nfound thee. It shall not be so, said he, but I shall go with you. And\nthen he converted them in the faith, and commanded them that they should\nbind his hands behind his back, and lead him so bound to the king. And\nwhen the king saw him he was afeard and fell down off the seat, and his\nservants lifted him up and releved him again. And then the king inquired\nhis name and his country; and Christopher said to him: Tofore or I was\nbaptized I was named Reprobus, and after, I am Christopher; tofore\nbaptism, a Canaanite, now, a Christian man. To whom the king said: Thou\nhast a foolish name, that is to wit of Christ crucified, which could not\nhelp himself, ne may not profit to thee. How therefore, thou cursed\nCanaanite, why wilt thou not do sacrifice to our gods? To whom\nChristopher said: Thou art rightfully called Dagnus, for thou art the\ndeath of the world, and fellow of the devil, and thy gods be made with\nthe hands of men. And the king said to him: Thou wert nourished among\nwild beasts, and therefore thou mayst not say but wild language, and\nwords unknown to men. And if thou wilt now do sacrifice to the gods I\nshall give to thee great gifts and great honors, and if not, I shall\ndestroy thee and consume thee by great pains and torments. But, for all\nthis, he would in no wise do sacrifice, wherefore he was sent in to\nprison, and the king did do behead the other knights that he had sent\nfor him, whom he had converted.\n\nAfter this Christopher was brought tofore the king, and the king\ncommanded that he should be beaten with rods of iron, and that there\nshould be set upon his head a cross of iron red hot and burning, and\nthen after, he did do make a siege or a stool of iron, and made\nChristopher to be bounden thereon, and after, to set fire under it, and\ncast therein pitch. But the siege or settle melted like wax, and\nChristopher issued out without any harm or hurt. And when the king saw\nthat, he commanded that he should be bound to a strong stake, and that\nhe should be through-shotten with arrows with forty knights archers. But\nnone of the knights might attain him, for the arrows hung in the air\nabout, nigh him, without touching. Then the king weened that he had been\nthrough-shotten with the arrows of the knights, and addressed him for to\ngo to him. And one of the arrows returned suddenly from the air and\nsmote him in the eye, and blinded him. To whom Christopher said: Tyrant,\nI shall die to-morn, make a little clay, with my blood tempered, and\nanoint therewith thine eye, and thou shalt receive health. Then by the\ncommandment of the king he was led for to be beheaded, and then, there\nmade he his orison, and his head was smitten off, and so suffered\nmartyrdom. And the king then took a little of his blood and laid it on\nhis eye, and said: In the name of God and of St. Christopher! and was\nanon healed. Then the king believed in God, and gave commandment that\nif any person blamed God or St. Christopher, he should anon be slain\nwith the sword.\n\nAmbrose saith in his preface thus, of this holy martyr: Lord, thou hast\ngiven to Christopher so great plenty of virtues, and such grace of\ndoctrine, that he called from the error of Paynims forty-eight thousand\nmen, to the honor of Christian faith, by his shining miracles. And with\nthis, he being strained and bounden in a seat of iron, and great fire\nput under, doubted nothing the heat. And all a whole day during, stood\nbounden to a stake, yet might not be through-pierced with arrows of all\nthe knights. And with that, one of the arrows smote out the eye of the\ntyrant, to whom the blood of the holy martyr re-established his sight,\nand enlumined him in taking away the blindness of his body, and gat of\nthe Christian mind and pardon, and he also gat of thee by prayer power\nto put away sickness and sores from them that remember his passion and\nfigure. Then let us pray to St. Christopher that he pray for us, etc.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SEVEN SLEEPERS\n\n\nThe seven sleepers were born in the city of Ephesus. And when Decius the\nemperor came into Ephesus for the persecution of Christian men, he\ncommanded to edify the temples in the middle of the city, so that all\nshould come with him to do sacrifice to the idols, and did do seek all\nthe Christian people, and bind them for to make them to do sacrifice, or\nelse to put them to death; in such wise that every man was afeard of the\npains that he promised, that the friend forsook his friend, and the son\nrenied his father, and the father the son. And then in this city were\nfounden seven Christian men, that is to wit, Maximian, Malchus,\nMarcianus, Denis, John, Serapion, and Constantine. And when they saw\nthis, they had much sorrow, and because they were the first in the\npalace that despised the sacrifices, they hid them in their houses, and\nwere in fastings and in prayers. And then they were accused tofore\nDecius, and came thither, and were found very Christian men. Then was\ngiven to them space for to repent them, unto the coming again of Decius.\nAnd in the meanwhile they dispended their patrimony in alms to the poor\npeople; and assembled them together, and took counsel, and went to the\nmount of Celion, and there ordained to be more secretly, and there hid\nthem long time. And one of them administered and served them always.\nAnd when he went into the city, he clothed him in the habit of a beggar.\n\nWhen Decius was come again, he commanded that they should be fetched,\nand then Malchus, which was their servant and ministered to them meat\nand drink, returned in great dread to his fellows, and told and showed\nto them the great fury and woodness of them, and then were they sore\nafraid. And Malchus set tofore them the loaves of bread that he had\nbrought, so that they were comforted of the meat, and were more strong\nfor to suffer torments. And when they had taken their refection and sat\nin weeping and wailings, suddenly, as God would, they slept, and when it\ncame on the morn they were sought and could not be found. Wherefore\nDecius was sorrowful because he had lost such young men. And then they\nwere accused that they were hid in the mount of Celion, and had given\ntheir goods to poor men, and yet abode in their purpose. And then\ncommanded Decius that their kindred should come to him, and menaced them\nto the death if they said not of them all that they knew. And they\naccused them, and complained that they had dispended all their riches.\nThen Decius thought what he should do with them, and, as our Lord would,\nhe inclosed the mouth of the cave wherein they were with stones, to the\nend that they should die therein for hunger and fault of meat. Then the\nministers and two Christian men, Theodorus and Rufinus, wrote their\nmartyrdom and laid it subtlely among the stones. And when Decius was\ndead, and all that generation, three hundred and sixty-two years after,\nand the thirtieth year of Theodosius the emperor, when the heresy was of\nthem that denied the resurrection of dead bodies, and began to grow;\nTheodosius, then the most Christian emperor, being sorrowful that the\nfaith of our Lord was so felonously demened, for anger and heaviness he\nclad him in hair and wept every day in a secret place, and led a full\nholy life, which God, merciful and piteous, seeing, would comfort them\nthat were sorrowful and weeping, and give to them esperance and hope of\nthe resurrection of dead men, and opened the precious treasure of his\npity, and raised the foresaid martyrs in this manner following.\n\nHe put in the will of a burgess of Ephesus that he would make in that\nmountain, which was desert and aspre, a stable for his pasturers and\nherdmen. And it happed that of adventure the masons, that made the said\nstable, opened this cave. And then these holy saints, that were within,\nawoke and were raised and intersalued each other, and had supposed\nverily that they had slept but one night only, and remembered of the\nheaviness that they had the day tofore. And then Malchus, which\nministered to them, said what Decius had ordained of them, for he said:\nWe have been sought, like as I said to you yesterday, for to do\nsacrifice to the idols, that is it that the emperor desireth of us. And\nthen Maximian answered: God our Lord knoweth that we shall never\nsacrifice, and comforted his fellows. He commanded to Malchus to go and\nbuy bread in the city, and bade him bring more that he did yesterday,\nand also to inquire and demand what the emperor had commanded to do. And\nthen Malchus took five shillings, and issued out of the cave, and when\nhe saw the masons and the stones tofore the cave, he began to bless him,\nand was much amarvelled. But he thought little on the stones, for he\nthought on other things. Then came he all doubtful to the gates of the\ncity, and was all amarvelled. For he saw the sign of the cross about the\ngate, and then, without tarrying, he went to that other gate of the\ncity, and found there also the sign of the cross thereon, and then he\nhad great marvel, for upon every gate he saw set up the sign of the\ncross; and therewith the city was garnished. And then he blessed him and\nreturned to the first gate, and weened he had dreamed; and after he\nadvised and comforted himself and covered his visage and entered into\nthe city. And when he came to the sellers of bread, and heard the men\nspeak of God, yet then was he more abashed, and said: What is this, that\nno man yesterday durst name Jesu Christ, and now every man confesseth\nhim to be Christian? I trow this is not the city of Ephesus, for it is\nall otherwise builded. It is some other city, I wot not what.\n\nAnd when he demanded and heard verily that it was Ephesus, he supposed\nthat he had erred, and thought verily to go again to his fellows, and\nthen went to them that sold bread. And when he showed his money the\nsellers marvelled, and said that one to that other, that this young man\nhad found some old treasure. And when Malchus saw them talk together,\nhe doubted not that they would lead him to the emperor, and was sore\nafeard, and prayed them to let him go, and keep both money and bread,\nbut they held him, and said to him: Of whence art thou? For thou hast\nfound treasure of old emperors, show it to us, and we shall be fellows\nwith thee and keep it secret. And Malchus was so afeard that he wist not\nwhat to say to them for dread. And when they saw that he spake not they\nput a cord about his neck, and drew him through the city unto the middle\nthereof. And tidings were had all about in the city that a young man had\nfound ancient treasure, in such wise that all they of the city assembled\nabout him, and he confessed there that he had found no treasure. And he\nbeheld them all, but he could know no man there of his kindred ne\nlineage, which he had verily supposed that they had lived, but found\nnone, wherefore he stood as he had been from himself, in the middle of\nthe city. And when St. Martin the bishop, and Antipater the consul,\nwhich were new come into this city, heard of this thing they sent for\nhim, that they should bring him wisely to them, and his money with him.\nAnd when he was brought to the church he weened well he should have been\nled to the Emperor Decius. And then the bishop and the consul marvelled\nof the money, and they demanded him where he had found this treasure\nunknown. And he answered that he had nothing founden, but it was come to\nhim of his kindred and patrimony, and they demanded of him of what city\nhe was. I wot well that I am of this city, if this be the city of\nEphesus. And the judge said to him: Let thy kindred come and witness for\nthee. And he named them, but none knew them. And they said that he\nfeigned, for to escape from them in some manner. And then said the\njudge: How may we believe thee that this money is come to thee of thy\nfriends, when it appeareth in the scripture that it is more than three\nhundred and seventy-two years sith it was made and forged, and is of the\nfirst days of Decius the emperor, and it resembleth nothing to our\nmoney; and how may it come from thy lineage so long since, and thou art\nyoung, and wouldst deceive the wise and ancient men of this city of\nEphesus? And therefore I command that thou be demened after the law till\nthou hast confessed where thou hast found this money. Then Malchus\nkneeled down tofore them and said: For God's sake, lords, say ye to me\nthat I shall demand you, and I shall tell to you all that I have in my\nheart. Decius the emperor that was in this city, where is he? And the\nbishop said to him there is no such at this day in the world that is\nnamed Decius, he was emperor many years since. And Malchus said: Sire,\nhereof I am greatly abashed and no man believeth me, for I wot well that\nwe fled for fear of Decius the emperor, and I saw him, that yesterday he\nentered into this city, if this be the city of Ephesus. Then the bishop\nthought in himself, and said to the judge that, this is a vision that\nour Lord will have showed by this young man. Then said the young man:\nFollow ye me, and I shall show to you my fellows which be in the mount\nof Celion, and believe ye them. This know I well, that we fled from the\nface of the Emperor Decius. And then they went with him, and a great\nmultitude of the people of the city with them. And Malchus entered first\ninto the cave to his fellows, and the bishop next after him. And there\nfound they among the stones the letters sealed with two seals of silver.\nAnd then the bishop called them that were come thither, and read them\ntofore them all, so that they that heard it were all abashed and\namarvelled. And they saw the saints sitting in the cave, and their\nvisages like unto roses flowering, and they, kneeling down, glorified\nGod. And anon the bishop and the judge sent to Theodosius the emperor,\npraying him that he would come anon for to see the marvels of our Lord\nthat he had late showed. And anon he arose up from the ground, and took\noff the sack in which he wept, and glorified our Lord. And came from\nConstantinople to Ephesus, and all they came against him, and ascended\nin to the mountain with him together, unto the saints in to the cave.\n\nAnd as soon as the blessed saints of our Lord saw the emperor come,\ntheir visages shone like to the sun. And the emperor entered then, and\nglorified our Lord and embraced them, weeping upon each of them, and\nsaid: I see you now like as I should see our Lord raising Lazarus. And\nthen Maximian said to him: Believe us, for forsooth our Lord hath raised\nus tofore the day of the great resurrection. And to the end that thou\nbelieve firmly the resurrection of the dead people, verily we be raised\nas ye here see, and live. And in like wise as the child is in the womb\nof his mother without feeling harm or hurt, in the same wise we have\nbeen living and sleeping in lying here without feeling of anything. And\nwhen they had said all this, they inclined their heads to the earth, and\nrendered their spirits at the command of our Lord Jesu Christ, and so\ndied. Then the emperor arose, and fell on them, weeping strongly, and\nembraced them, and kissed them debonairly. And then he commanded to make\nprecious sepulchres of gold and silver, and to bury their bodies\ntherein. And in the same night they appeared to the emperor, and said to\nhim that he should suffer them to lie on the earth like as they had lain\ntofore till that time that our Lord had raised them, unto the time that\nthey should rise again. Then commanded the emperor that the place should\nbe adorned nobly and richly with precious stones, and all the bishops\nthat would confess the resurrection should be assoiled. It is in doubt\nof that which is said that they slept three hundred and sixty-two years,\nfor they were raised the year of our Lord four hundred and\nseventy-eight, and Decius reigned but one year and three months, and\nthat was in the year of our Lord two hundred and seventy, and so they\nslept but two hundred and eight years.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. SILVESTER.\n\n\nSilvester was son of one Justa and was learned and taught of a priest\nnamed Cyrinus, which did marvellously great alms and made hospitalities.\nIt happed that he received a Christian man into his house named Timothy,\nwho no man would receive for the persecution of tyrants, wherefore the\nsaid Timothy suffered death and passion after that year while he\npreached justly the faith of Jesu Christ. It was so that the prefect\nTarquinius supposed that Timothy had had great plenty of riches, which\nhe demanded of Silvester, threatening him to the death but if he\ndelivered them to him. And when he found certainly that Timothy had no\ngreat riches, he commanded to St. Silvester to make sacrifice to the\nidols, and if he did not he would make him suffer divers torments. St.\nSilvester answered: False, evil man, thou shalt die this night, and\nshalt have torments that ever shall endure, and thou shalt know, whether\nthou wilt or not, that he whom we worship is very God. Then St.\nSilvester was put in prison, and the provost went to dinner. Now it\nhapped that as he ate, a bone of a fish turned in his throat and stuck\nfast, so that he could neither have it down ne up, and at midnight died\nlike as St. Silvester had said, and then St. Silvester was delivered out\nof prison. He was so gracious that all Christian men and Paynims loved\nhim, for he was fair like an angel to look on, a fair speaker, whole of\nbody, holy in work, good in counsel, patient and charitable, and firmly\nestablished in the faith. He had in writing the names of all the widows\nand orphans that were poor, and to them he administered their necessity.\nHe had a custom to fast all Fridays and Saturdays. And it was so that\nMelchiades, the bishop of Rome, died, and all the people chose St.\nSilvester for to be the high Bishop of Rome, which sore against his will\nwas made pope. He instituted for to be fasted Wednesday, Friday, and\nSaturday, and the Thursday for to be hallowed as Sunday.\n\nNow it happed that the Emperor Constantine did do slay all the Christian\nmen over all where he could find them, and for this cause St. Silvester\nfled out of the town with his clerks, and hid him in a mountain. And for\nthe cruelty of Constantine God sent him such a sickness that he became\nlazar and measel, and by the counsel of his physicians he got three\nthousand young children for to have cut their throats, for to have their\nblood in a bath all hot, and thereby he might be healed of his measelry.\nAnd when he should ascend into his chariot for to go to the place where\nhe should be bathed, the mothers of the children came crying and braying\nfor sorrow of their children, and when he understood that they were\nmothers of the children, he had great pity on them and said to his\nknights and them that were about him: The dignity of the empire of Rome\nis brought forth of the fountain of pity, the which hath stablished by\ndecree that who that slayeth a child in battle shall have his head\nsmitten off, then should it be great cruelty to us for to do to ours\nsuch thing as we defend to strange nations, for so should cruelty\nsurmount us. It is better that we leave cruelty and that pity surmount\nus, and therefore me seemeth better to save the lives of these\ninnocents, than by their death I should have again my health, of the\nwhich we be not yet certain. Ne we may recover nothing for to slay them,\nfor if so were that I should thereby have health, that should be a cruel\nhealth that should be bought with the death of so many innocents. Then\nhe commanded to render and deliver again to the mothers their children,\nand gave to every each of them a good gift, and thus made them return to\ntheir houses with great joy, from whence they departed with great\nsorrow, and he himself returned again in his chariot unto his palace.\nNow it happed that the night after St. Peter and St. Paul appeared to\nthis Emperor Constantine, saying to him: Because thou hast had horror to\nshed and spill the blood of innocents, our Lord Jesu Christ hath had\npity on thee, and commandeth thee to send unto such a mountain where\nSilvester is hid with his clerks, and say to him that thou comest for to\nbe baptized of him and thou shalt be healed of thy malady. And when he\nwas awaked he did do call his knights and commanded them to go to that\nmountain and bring the Pope Silvester to him courteously and fair, for\nto speak with him. When St. Silvester saw from far the knights come to\nhim, he supposed they sought him for to be martyred, and began to say\nto his clerks that they should be firm and stable in the faith for to\nsuffer martyrdom. When the knights came to him they said to him much\ncourteously that Constantine sent for him, and prayed him that he would\ncome and speak with him. And forthwith he came, and when they had\nintersaluted each other, Constantine told to him his vision. And when\nSilvester demanded of him what men they were that so appeared to him,\nthe emperor wist not ne could not name them. St. Silvester opened a book\nwherein the images of St. Peter and St. Paul were portrayed, and\ndemanded of him if they were like unto them. Then Constantine anon knew\nthem and said that he had seen them in his sleep. Then St. Silvester\npreached to him the faith of Jesu Christ, and baptized him; and when he\nwas baptized, a great light descended upon him so that he said that he\nhad seen Jesu Christ, and was healed forthwith of his measelry. And then\nhe ordained seven laws unto holy church, the first was that all the city\nshould worship Jesu Christ as very God, the second thing was that\nwhosoever should say any villany of Jesu Christ he should be punished,\nthe third, whosomever should do villany to Christian men, he should lose\nhalf his goods. The fourth, that the Bishop of Rome should be chief of\nall holy church, like as the emperor is chief of all the world. The\nfifth, that who that had done or should do trespass and fled to the\nchurch, that he should be kept there free from all injury. The sixth,\nthat no man should edify any churches without license of holy church and\nconsent of the bishop. The seventh, that the dime and tenth part of the\npossessions should be given to the church.\n\nAfter this the emperor came to St. Peter's church and confessed meekly\nall his sins tofore all people, and what wrong he had done to Christian\nmen, and made to dig and cast out to make the foundements for the\nchurches, and bare on his shoulders twelve hods or baskets full of\nearth. When Helen, the mother of Constantine, dwelling in Bethany, heard\nsay that the emperor was become Christian, she sent to him a letter, in\nwhich she praised much her son of this that he had renounced the false\nidols, but she blamed him much that he had renounced the law of the\nJews, and worshipped a man crucified. Then Constantine remanded to his\nmother that she should assemble the greatest masters of the Jews, and he\nshould assemble the greatest masters of the Christian men, to the end\nthat they might dispute and know which was the truest law. Then Helen\nassembled twelve masters which she brought with her, which were the\nwisest that they might find in that law, and St. Silvester and his\nclerks were of that other party. Then the emperor ordained two Paynims,\nGentiles, to be their judges, of whom that one was named Crato, and that\nother Zenophilus, which were proved wise and expert, and they to give\nthe sentence, and be judge of the disputation. Then began one of the\nmasters of the Jews for to maintain and dispute his law, and St.\nSilvester and his clerks answered to his disputation, and to them all,\nalways concluding them by Scripture. The judges which were true and\njust, held more of the party of St. Silvester than of the Jews. Then\nsaid one of the masters of the Jews named Zambry, I marvel, said he,\nthat ye be so wise and incline you to their words, let us leave all\nthese words and go we to the effect of the deeds. Then he did do come\n[caused to come] a cruel bull, and said a word in his ear, and anon the\nbull died. Then the people were all against Silvester. Then said\nSilvester, believe not thou that he hath named in the ear the name of\nJesu Christ, but the name of some devil, know ye verily it is no great\nstrength to slay a bull, for a man, or a lion, or a serpent may well\nslay him, but it is great virtue to raise him again to life, then if he\nmay not raise him it is by the devil. And if he may raise him again to\nlife, I shall believe that he is dead by the power of God. And when the\njudges heard this, they said to Zambry, that had slain the bull, that he\nshould raise him again. Then he answered that if Silvester might raise\nhim in the name of Jesus of Galilee his master, then he would believe in\nhim, and thereto bound them all the Jews that were there. And St.\nSilvester first made his orisons and prayers to our Lord, and sith came\nto the bull and said to him in his ear: Thou cursed creature that art\nentered into this bull and hast slain him, go out in the name of Jesu\nChrist, in whose name I command thee bull, arise thou up and go thou\nwith the other beasts debonairly, and anon the bull arose and went forth\nsoftly. Then the queen and the judges, which were Paynims, were\nconverted to the faith.\n\nIn this time it happed that there was at Rome a dragon in a pit, which\nevery day slew with his breath more than three hundred men. Then came\nthe bishops of the idols unto the emperor and said unto him: O thou most\nholy emperor, sith the time that thou hast received Christian faith the\ndragon which is in yonder foss or pit slayeth every day with his breath\nmore than three hundred men. Then sent the emperor for St. Silvester and\nasked counsel of him of this matter. St. Silvester answered that by the\nmight of God he promised to make him cease of his hurt and blessure of\nthis people. Then St. Silvester put himself to prayer, and St. Peter\nappeared to him and said: Go surely to the dragon and the two priests\nthat be with thee take in thy company, and when thou shalt come to him\nthou shalt say to him in this manner: Our Lord Jesu Christ which was\nborn of the Virgin Mary, crucified, buried and arose, and now sitteth on\nthe right side of the Father, this is he that shall come to deem and\njudge the living and the dead, I command thee Sathanas that thou abide\nhim in this place till he come. Then thou shalt bind his mouth with a\nthread, and seal it with thy seal, wherein is the imprint of the cross.\nThen thou and the two priests shall come to me whole and safe, and such\nbread as I shall make ready for you ye shall eat. Thus as St. Peter had\nsaid, St. Silvester did. And when he came to the pit, he descended down\none hundred and fifty steps, bearing with him two lanterns, and found\nthe dragon, and said the words that St. Peter had said to him, and bound\nhis mouth with the thread, and sealed it, and after returned, and as he\ncame upward again he met with two enchanters which followed him for to\nsee if he descended, which were almost dead of the stench of the dragon,\nwhom he brought with him whole and sound, which anon were baptized, with\na great multitude of people with them. Thus was the city of Rome\ndelivered from double death, that was from the culture and worshipping\nof false idols, and from the venom of the dragon. At the last when St.\nSilvester approached toward his death, he called to him the clergy and\nadmonished them to have charity, and that they should diligently govern\ntheir churches, and keep their flock from the wolves. And after the year\nof the incarnation of our Lord three hundred and twenty, he departed out\nof this world and slept in our Lord, etc.\n\n\n\n\nOF ST. AUSTIN THAT BROUGHT CHRISTENDOM TO ENGLAND\n\n\nSt. Austin was a holy monk and sent in to England, to preach the faith\nof our Lord Jesu Christ, by St. Gregory, then being pope of Rome. The\nwhich had a great zeal and love unto England, as is rehearsed all along\nin his legend, how that he saw children of England in the market of Rome\nfor to be sold, which were fair of visage, for which cause he demanded\nlicense and obtained to go into England for to convert the people\nthereof to Christian faith. And he being on the way the pope died and he\nwas chosen pope, and was countermanded and came again to Rome. And\nafter, when he was sacred into the papacy, he remembered the realm of\nEngland, and sent St. Austin, as head and chief, and other holy monks\nand priests with him, to the number of forty persons, unto the realm of\nEngland. And as they came toward England they came in the province of\nAnjou, purposing to have rested all night at a place called Pounte, say\na mile from the city and river of Ligerim, but the women scorned and\nwere so noyous to them that they drove them out of the town, and they\ncame unto a fair broad elm, and purposed to have rested there that\nnight, but one of the women which was more cruel than the other purposed\nto drive them thence, and came so nigh them that they might not rest\nthere that night. And then St. Austin took his staff for to remove from\nthat place, and suddenly his staff sprang out of his hand with a great\nviolence, the space of three furlongs thence, and there sticked fast in\nthe earth. And when St. Austin came to his staff and pulled it out of\nthe earth, incontinent by the might of our Lord, sourded and sprang\nthere a fair well or fountain of clear water which refreshed him well\nand all his fellowship. And about that well they rested all that night,\nand they that dwelled thereby saw all that night over that place a great\nlight coming from heaven which covered all that place where these holy\nmen lay. And on the morn St. Austin wrote in the earth with his staff\nbeside the well these words following: Here had Austin, the servant of\nthe servants of God, hospitality, whom St. Gregory the pope hath sent to\nconvert England.\n\nOn the morn when the holy men were departed, the dwellers of the coasts\nthereby which saw the light in the night tofore, came thither and found\nthere a fair well, of the which they marvelled greatly. And when they\nsaw the scripture written in the earth they were greatly abashed because\nof their unkindness, and repented them full sore of that they had mocked\nthem the day before. And after, they edified there a fair church in the\nsame place in the worship of St. Austin, the which the bishop of Anjou\nhallowed. And to the hallowing thereof came so great multitude of people\nthat they trod the corn in the fields down all plain, like unto a floor\nclean swept, for there was no sparing of it. Notwithstanding, at the\ntime of reaping, that ground so trodden bare more corn and better than\nany other fields beside, not trodden, did. And the high altar of that\nchurch standeth over the place where St. Austin wrote with his staff by\nthe well, and yet unto this day may no woman come in to that church. But\nthere was a noble woman that said that she was not guilty in offending\nSt. Austin, and took a taper in her hand and went for to offer it in the\nsaid church; but the sentence of Almighty God may not be revoked, for as\nsoon as she entered the church her bowels and sinews began to shrink and\nshe fell down dead in ensample of all other women; whereby we may\nunderstand that injury done against a saint displeaseth greatly Almighty\nGod.\n\nAnd from thence St. Austin and his fellowship came into England and\narrived in the isle of Thanet in East Kent, and king Ethelbert reigned\nthat time in Kent, which was a noble man and a mighty. To whom St.\nAustin sent, showing the intent of his coming from the court of Rome,\nand said that he had brought to him right joyful and pleasant tidings,\nand said that if he would obey and do after his preaching that he should\nhave everlasting joy in the bliss of heaven, and should reign with\nAlmighty God in his kingdom. And then King Ethelbert hearing this,\ncommanded that they should abide and tarry in the same isle, and that\nall things should be ministered to them that were necessary, unto the\ntime that he were otherwise advised. And soon after, the king came to\nthem in the same isle, and he being in the field, St. Austin with his\nfellowship came and spake with him, having tofore them the sign of the\ncross, singing by the way the litany, beseeching God devoutly to\nstrengthen them and help. And the king received him and his fellowship,\nand in the same place St. Austin preached a glorious sermon, and\ndeclared to the king the Christian faith openly and the great merit and\navail that should come thereof in time coming. And when he had ended his\nsermon the king said to him: Your promises be full fair that ye bring,\nbut because they be new and have not been heard here before, we may not\nyet give consent thereto; nevertheless, because ye be come as pilgrims\nfrom far countries, we will not be grevious ne hard to you, but we will\nreceive you meekly and minister to you such things as be necessary,\nneither we will forbid you, but as many as ye can convert to your faith\nand religion by your preaching ye shall have license to baptize them,\nand to accompany them to your law. And then the king gave to them a\nmansion in the city of Dorobernence, which now is called Canterbury. And\nwhen they drew nigh the city they came in with a cross of silver, and\nwith procession singing the litany, praying Almighty God of succor and\nhelp that he would take away his wrath from the city and to inflame the\nhearts of the people to receive his doctrine. And then St. Austin and\nhis fellowship began to preach there the word of God, and about there in\nthe province, and such people as were well disposed anon were converted,\nand followed this holy man. And by the holy conversation and miracles\nthat they did much people were converted and great fame arose in the\ncountry. And when it came to the king's ear, anon he came to the\npresence of St. Austin and desired him to preach again, and then the\nword of God so inflamed him, that incontinent, as soon as the sermon was\nended, the king fell down to the feet of St. Austin and said\nsorrowfully: Alas! woe is me, that I have erred so long and know not of\nhim that thou speakest of, thy promises be so delectable that I think it\nall too long till I be christened, wherefore, holy father, I require\nthee to minister to me the sacrament of baptism. And then St. Austin,\nseeing the great meekness and obedience of the king that he had to be\nchristened, he took him up with weeping tears and baptized him with all\nhis household and meiny, and informed them diligently in the Christian\nfaith with great joy and gladness. And when all this was done St.\nAustin, desiring the health of the people of England, went forth on foot\nto York; and when he came nigh to the city there met him a blind man\nwhich said to him: O thou holy Austin, help me that am full needy. To\nwhom St. Austin said: I have no silver, but such as I have I give thee;\nin the name of Jesu Christ arise and be all whole, and with that word he\nreceived his sight and believed in our Lord and was baptized. And upon\nChristmas day he baptized, in the river named Swale, ten thousand men\nwithout women and children, and there was a great multitude of people\nresorting to the said river, which was so deep that no man might pass\nover on foot, and yet by miracle of our Lord there was neither man,\nwoman, ne child drowned, but they that were sick were made whole both in\nbody and in soul. And in the same place they builded a church in the\nworship of God and St. Austin. And when St. Austin had preached the\nfaith to the people and had confirmed them steadfastly therein, he\nreturned again from York, and by the way he met a leper asking help, and\nwhen St. Austin had said these words to him: In the name of Jesu Christ\nbe thou cleansed from all thy leprosy, anon all his filth fell away, and\na fair new skin appeared on his body so that he seemed all a new man.\n\nAlso as St. Austin came into Oxfordshire to a town that is called\nCompton to preach the word of God, to whom the curate said: Holy father,\nthe lord of this lordship hath been ofttimes warned of me to pay his\ntithes to God, and yet he withholdeth them, and therefore I have cursed\nhim, and I find him the more obstinate. To whom St. Austin said: Son,\nwhy payest thou not thy tithes to God and to the church? Knowest thou\nnot that the tithes be not thine but belong to God? And then the knight\nsaid to him: I know well that I till the ground, wherefore I ought as\nwell to have the tenth sheaf as the ninth, and when St. Austin could not\nturn the knight's entent, then he departed from him and went to mass.\nAnd ere he began he charged that all they that were accursed should go\nout of the church, and then rose a dead body and went out in to the\nchurchyard with a white cloth on his head, and stood still there till\nthe mass was done. And then St. Austin went to him and demanded him\nwhat he was, and he answered and said: I was sometime lord of this town,\nand because I would not pay my tithes to my curate he accursed me, and\nso I died and went to hell. And then St. Austin bade bring him to the\nplace where his curate was buried, and then the carrion brought him\nthither to the grave, and because that all men should know that life and\ndeath be in the power of God, St. Austin said: I command thee in the\nname of God to arise, for we have need of thee, and then he arose anon,\nand stood before all the people. To whom St. Austin said: Thou knowest\nwell that our Lord is merciful, and I demand thee, brother, if thou\nknowest this man? and he said: Yea, would God that I had never known\nhim, for he was a withholder of his tithes, and in all his life an, evil\ndoer, thou knowest that our Lord is merciful, and as long as the pains\nof hell endure let us also be merciful to all Christians. And then St.\nAustin delivered to the curate a rod, and there the knight kneeling on\nhis knees was assoiled, and then he commanded him to go again to his\ngrave, and there to abide till the day of doom; and he entered anon into\nhis grave and forthwith fell to ashes and powder. And then St. Austin\nsaid to the priest: How long hast thou lain here? and he said a hundred\nand fifty years; and then he asked how it stood with him, and he said:\nWell, holy father, for I am in everlasting bliss; and then said St.\nAustin: Wilt thou that I pray to Almighty God that thou abide here with\nus to confirm the hearts of men in very belief? And then he said: Nay,\nholy father, for I am in a place of rest; and then said St. Austin: Go\nin peace, and pray for me and for all holy church, and he then entered\nagain into his grave, and anon the body was turned to earth. Of this\nsight the lord was sore afeard, and came all quaking to St. Austin and\nto his curate, and demanded forgiveness of his trespass, and promised to\nmake amends and ever after to pay his tithes and to follow the doctrine\nof St. Austin.\n\nAfter this St. Austin entered into Dorsetshire, and came in to a town\nwhereas were wicked people who refused his doctrine and preaching\nutterly and drove him out of the town, casting on him the tails of\nthornbacks, or like fishes, wherefore he besought Almighty God to show\nhis judgment on them, and God sent to them a shameful token, for the\nchildren that were born after in that place had tails, as it is said,\ntill they had repented them. It is said commonly that this fell at\nStrood in Kent, but blessed be God at this day is no such deformity.\nItem in another place there were certain people which would in no wise\ngive faith to his preaching ne his doctrine, but scorned and mocked him,\nwherefore God took such vengeance that they burned with fire invisible,\nso that their skin was red as blood, and suffered so great pain that\nthey were constrained to come and ask forgiveness of St. Austin, and\nthen he prayed God for them that they might be acceptable to him and\nreceive baptism and that he would release their pain, and then he\nchristened them and that burning heat was quenched and they were made\nperfectly whole, and felt never after more thereof. On a time, as St.\nAustin was in his prayers, our Lord appeared to him, and comforting him\nwith a gentle and familiar speech, said: O thou my good servant and\ntrue, be thou comforted and do manly, for I thy Lord God am with thee in\nall thine affection, and mine ears be open to thy prayers, and for whom\nthou demandest any petition thou shalt have thy desire, and the gate of\neverlasting life is open to thee, where thou shalt joy with me without\nend. And in that same place where our Lord said these words he fixed his\nstaff into the ground, and a well of clear water sourded and sprang up\nin that same place, the which well is called Cerne, and it is in the\ncountry of Dorset, whereas now is builded a fair abbey, and is named\nCerne after the well. And the church is builded in the same place\nwhereas our Lord appeared to St. Austin. Also in the same country was a\nyoung man that was lame, dumb, and deaf, and by the prayers of St.\nAustin he was made whole, and then soon after he was dissolute and\nwanton, and noyed and grieved the people with jangling and talking in\nthe church. And then God sent to him his old infirmity again, because of\nhis misguiding, and at the last he fell to repentance, and asked God\nforgiveness and St. Austin. And St. Austin prayed for him and he was\nmade whole again the second time, and after that he continued in good\nand virtuous living to his life's end.\n\nAnd after this St. Austin, full of virtues, departed out of this world\nunto our Lord God, and lieth buried at Canterbury in the abbey that he\nfounded there in the worship and rule, whereas our Lord God showeth yet\ndaily many miracles. And the third day before the nativity of our Lady\nis hallowed the translation of St. Austin. In which night a citizen of\nCanterbury, being that time at Winchester, saw heaven open over the\nchurch of St. Austin, and a burning ladder shining full bright, and\nangels coming down to the same church. And then him thought that the\nchurch had burned of the great light and brightness that came down on\nthe ladder, and marvelled greatly what this should mean, for he knew\nnothing of the translation of St. Austin; and when he knew the truth,\nthat on that time the body of the glorious saint was translated, he gave\nlaud and thankings to almighty God, and we may verily know by that\nevident vision that it is an holy and devout place; and as it is said\nthat of old time, ancient holy men that used to come thither would at\nthe entry of it do off their hosen and shoes and durst not presume to go\ninto that holy monastery but barefoot, because so many holy saints be\nthere shrined and buried. And God hath showed so many miracles in that\nholy place for his blessed saint, St. Austin, that if I should write\nthem here it should occupy a great book.\n\n\n\n\nEDWIN AND PAULINUS\n\n_The Conversion of Northumbria_\n\n\nThe black-hair'd gaunt Paulinus\n  By ruddy Edwin stood:--\n\"Bow down, O king of Deira,\n  Before the blessed Rood!\nCast out thy heathen idols,\n  And worship Christ our Lord.\"\n--But Edwin look'd and ponder'd,\n  And answer'd not a word.\n\nAgain the gaunt Paulinus\n  To ruddy Edwin spake:\n\"God offers life immortal\n  For his dear Son's own sake!\nWilt thou not hear his message,\n  Who bears the keys and sword?\"\n--But Edwin look'd and ponder'd,\n  And answer'd not a word.\n\nRose then a sage old warrior;\n  Was five-score winters old;\nWhose beard from chin to girdle\n  Like one long snow-wreath roll'd:--\n\"At Yule-time in our chamber\n  We sit in warmth and light,\nWhile cold and howling round us\n  Lies the black land of Night.\n\n\"Athwart the room a sparrow\n  Darts from the open door:\nWithin the happy hearth-light\n  One red flash--and no more!\nWe see it come from darkness,\n  And into darkness go:--\nSo is our life, King Edwin!\n  Alas, that it is so!\n\n\"But if this pale Paulinus\n  Have somewhat more to tell;\nSome news of Whence and Whither,\n  And where the soul will dwell;--\nIf on that outer darkness\n  The sun of hope may shine;--\nHe makes life worth the living!\n  I take his God for mine!\"\n\nSo spake the wise old warrior;\n  And all about him cried:\n\"Paulinus' God hath conquer'd!\n  And he shall be our guide:--\nFor he makes life worth living\n  Who brings this message plain,\nWhen our brief days are over,\n  That we shall live again.\"\n\n_--Unknown_\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. GEORGE MARTYR\n\n\nSt. George was a knight and born in Cappadocia. On a time he came in to\nthe province of Libya, to a city which is said Silene. And by this city\nwas a stagne or a pond like a sea, wherein was a dragon which envenomed\nall the country. And on a time the people were assembled for to slay\nhim, and when they saw him they fled. And when he came nigh the city he\nvenomed the people with his breath, and therefore the people of the city\ngave to him every day two sheep for to feed him, because he should do no\nharm to the people, and when the sheep failed there was taken a man and\na sheep. Then was an ordinance made in the town that there should be\ntaken the children and young people of them of the town by lot, and\nevery each one as it fell, were he gentle or poor, should be delivered\nwhen the lot fell on him or her. So it happed that many of them of the\ntown were then delivered, insomuch that the lot fell upon the king's\ndaughter, whereof the king was sorry, and said unto the people: For the\nlove of the gods take gold and silver and all that I have, and let me\nhave my daughter. They said: How sir! ye have made and ordained the law,\nand our children be now dead, and ye would do the contrary. Your\ndaughter shall be given, or else we shall burn you and your house.\n\nWhen the king saw he might no more do, he began to weep, and said to\nhis daughter: Now shall I never see thine espousals. Then returned he to\nthe people ami demanded eight days' respite, and they granted it to him.\nAnd when the eight days were passed they came to him and said: Thou\nseest that the city perisheth: Then did the king do array his daughter\nlike as she should be wedded, and embraced her, kissed her and gave her\nhis benediction, and after, led her to the place where the dragon was.\n\nWhen she was there St. George passed by, and when he saw the lady he\ndemanded the lady what she made there and she said: Go ye your way fair\nyoung man, that ye perish not also. Then said he: Tell to me what have\nand why weep ye, and doubt ye of nothing. When she saw that he would\nknow, she said to him how she was delivered to the dragon. Then said St.\nGeorge: Fair daughter, doubt ye no thing hereof for I shall help thee in\nthe name of Jesu Christ. She said: For God's sake, good knight, go your\nway, and abide not with me, for ye may not deliver me. Thus as they\nspake together the dragon appeared and came running to them, and St.\nGeorge was upon his horse, and drew out his sword and garnished him with\nthe sign of the cross, and rode hardily against the dragon which came\ntoward him, and smote him with his spear and hurt him sore and threw him\nto the ground. And after said to the maid: Deliver to me your girdle,\nand bind it about the neck of the dragon and be not afeard. When she had\ndone so the dragon followed her as it had been a meek beast and\ndebonair. Then she led him into the city, and the people fled by\nmountains and valleys, and said: Alas! alas! we shall be all dead. Then\nSt. George said to them: Ne doubt ye no thing, without more, believe ye\nin God, Jesu Christ, and do ye to be baptized and I shall slay the\ndragon. Then the king was baptized and all his people, and St. George\nslew the dragon and smote off his head, and commanded that he should be\nthrown in the fields, and they took four carts with oxen that drew him\nout of the city.\n\nThen were there well fifteen thousand men baptized, without women and\nchildren, and the king did do make a church there of our Lady and of St.\nGeorge, in the which yet sourdeth a fountain of living water, which\nhealeth sick people that drink thereof. After this the king offered to\nSt. George as much money as there might be numbered, but he refused all\nand commanded that it should be given to poor people for God's sake; and\nenjoined the king four things, that is, that he should have charge of\nthe churches, and that he should honor the priests and hear their\nservice diligently, and that he should have pity on the poor people, and\nafter, kissed the king and departed.\n\nNow it happed that in the time of Diocletian and Maximian, which were\nemperors, was so great persecution of Christian men that within a month\nwere martyred well twenty-two thousand, and therefore they had so great\ndread that some renied and forsook God and did sacrifice to the idols.\nWhen St. George saw this, he left the habit of a knight and sold all\nthat he had, and gave it to the poor, and took the habit of a Christian\nman, and went into the middle of the Paynims and began to cry: All the\ngods of the Paynims and Gentiles be devils, my God made the heavens and\nis very God. Then said the provost to him: Of what presumption cometh\nthis to thee, that thou sayest that our gods be devils? And say to us\nwhat thou art and what is thy name. He answered anon and said: I am\nnamed George, I am a gentleman, a knight of Cappadocia, and have left\nall for to serve the God of heaven. Then the provost enforced himself to\ndraw him unto his faith by fair words, and when he might not bring him\nthereto he did do raise him on a gibbet; and so must beat him with great\nstaves and broches of iron, that his body was all tobroken in pieces.\nAnd after he did do take brands of iron and join them to his sides, and\nhis bowels which then appeared he did do frot with salt, and so sent him\ninto prison, but our Lord appeared to him the same night with great\nlight and comforted him much sweetly. And by this great consolation he\ntook to him so good heart that he doubted no torment that they might\nmake him suffer. Then, when Dacian the provost saw that he might not\nsurmount him, he called his enchanter and said to him: I see that these\nChristian people doubt not our torments. The enchanter bound himself,\nupon his head to be smitten off, if he overcame not his crafts. Then he\ndid take strong venom and meddled it with wine, and made invocation of\nthe names of his false gods, and gave it to St. George to drink. St.\nGeorge took it and made the sign of the cross on it, and anon drank it\nwithout grieving him any thing. Then the enchanter made it more stronger\nthan it was tofore of venom, and gave it him to drink, and it grieved\nhim nothing. When the enchanter saw that, he kneeled down at the feet of\nSt. George and prayed him that he would make him Christian. And when\nDacian knew that he was become Christian he made to smite off his head.\nAnd after, on the morn, he made St. George to be set between two wheels,\nwhich were full of swords, sharp and cutting on both sides, but anon the\nwheels were broken and St. George escaped without hurt. And then\ncommanded Dacian that they should put him in a caldron full of molten\nlead, and when St. George entered therein, by the virtue of our Lord it\nseemed that he was in a bath well at ease. Then Dacian seeing this began\nto assuage his ire, and to flatter him by fair words, and said to him:\nGeorge, the patience of our gods is over great unto thee which hast\nblasphemed them, and done to them great despite, then fair, and right\nsweet son, I pray thee that thou return to our law and make sacrifice to\nthe idols, and leave thy folly, and I shall enhance thee to great honor\nand worship. Then began St. George to smile, and said to him: Wherefore\nsaidst thou not to me thus at the beginning? I am ready to do as thou\nsayest. Then was Dacian glad and made to cry over all the town that all\nthe people should assemble for to see George make sacrifice which so\nmuch had striven there against. Then was the city arrayed and feast\nkept throughout all the town, and all came to the temple for to see him.\n\nWhen St. George was on his knees, and they supposed that he would have\nworshipped the idols, he prayed our Lord God of heaven that he would\ndestroy the temple and the idol in the honor of his name, for to make\nthe people to be converted. And anon the fire descended from heaven and\nburned the temple, and the idols, and their priests, and sith the earth\nopened and swallowed all the cinders and ashes that were left. Then\nDacian made him to be brought tofore him, and said to him: What be the\nevil deeds that thou hast done, and also great untruth? Then said to him\nSt. George: Ah, sir, believe it not, but come with me and see how I\nshall sacrifice. Then said Dacian to him: I see well thy fraud and thy\nbarat, thou wilt make the earth to swallow me, like as thou hast the\ntemple and my gods. Then said St. George: O caitiff, tell me how may thy\ngods help thee when they may not help themselves! Then was Dacian so\nangry that he said to his wife: I shall die for anger if I may not\nsurmount and overcome this man. Then said she to him: Evil and cruel\ntyrant! ne seest thou not the great virtue of the Christian people? I\nsaid to thee well that thou shouldst not do to them any harm, for their\nGod fighteth for them, and know thou well that I will become Christian.\nThen was Dacian much abashed and said to her: Wilt thou be Christian?\nThen he took her by the hair, and did do beat her cruelly. Then demanded\nshe of St. George: What may I become because I am not christened? Then\nanswered the blessed George: Doubt thee nothing, fair daughter, for thou\nshalt be baptized in thy blood. Then began she to worship our Lord Jesu\nChrist, and so she died and went to heaven. On the morn Dacian gave his\nsentence that St. George should be drawn through all the city, and\nafter, his head should be smitten off. Then made he his prayer to our\nLord that all they that desired any boon might get it of our Lord God in\nhis name, and a voice came from heaven which said that it which he had\ndesired was granted; and after he had made his orison his head was\nsmitten off, about the year of our Lord two hundred and eighty-seven.\nWhen Dacian went homeward from the place where he was beheaded toward\nhis palace, fire fell down from heaven upon him and burned him and all\nhis servants.\n\nGregory of Tours telleth that there were some that bare certain relics\nof St. George, and came into a certain oratory in a hospital, and on the\nmorning when they should depart they could not move the door till they\nhad left there part of their relics. It is also found in the history of\nAntioch, that when the Christian men went oversea to conquer Jerusalem,\nthat one, a right fair young man, appeared to a priest of the host and\ncounselled him that he should bear with him a little of the relics of\nSt. George, for he was conductor of the battle, and so he did so much\nthat he had some. And when it was so that they had assieged Jerusalem\nand durst not mount ne go up on the walls for the quarrels and defence\nof the Saracens, they saw appertly St. George which had white arms with\na red cross, that went up tofore them on the walls, and they followed\nhim, and so was Jerusalem taken by his help. And between Jerusalem and\nport Jaffa, by a town called Ramys, is a chapel of St. George which is\nnow desolate and uncovered, and therein dwell Christian Greeks. And in\nthe said chapel lieth the body of St. George, but not the head. And\nthere lie his father and mother and his uncle, not in the chapel but\nunder the wall of the chapel; and the keepers will not suffer pilgrims\nto come therein, but if they pay two ducats, and therefore come but few\ntherein, but offer without the chapel at an altar. And there is seven\nyears and seven lents of pardon; and the body of St. George lieth in the\nmiddle of the quire or choir of the said chapel, and in his tomb is an\nhole that a man may put in his hand. And when a Saracen, being mad, is\nbrought thither, and if he put his head in the hole he shall anon be\nmade perfectly whole, and have his wit again.\n\nThis blessed and holy martyr St. George is patron of the realm of\nEngland and the cry of men of war. In the worship of whom is founded the\nnoble order of the Garter, and also a noble college in the castle of\nWindsor by kings of England, in which college is the heart of St.\nGeorge, which Sigismund, the emperor of Almayne, brought and gave for a\ngreat and a precious relic to King Harry the Fifth.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF ST. PATRICK\n\n\nSt. Patrick was born in Britain, which is called England, and was\nlearned at Rome and there flourished in virtues; and after departed out\nof the parts of Italy, where he had long dwelled, and came home into his\ncountry in Wales named Pendyac, and entered into a fair and joyous\ncountry called the valley Rosine. To whom the angel of God appeared and\nsaid: O Patrick, this see ne bishopric God hath not provided to thee,\nbut unto one not yet born, but shall thirty years hereafter be born, and\nso he left that country and sailed over into Ireland. And as Higden\nsaith in Polycronicon the fourth book, the twenty-fourth chapter, that\nSt. Patrick's father was named Caprum, which was a priest and a deacon's\nson which was called Fodum. And St. Patrick's mother was named\nConchessa, Martin's sister of France. In his baptism he was named\nSucate, and St. Germain called him Magonius, and Celestinus the pope\nnamed him Patrick. That is as much to say as father of the citizens.\n\nSt. Patrick on a day as he preached a sermon of the patience and\nsufferance of the passion of our Lord Jesu Christ to the king of the\ncountry, he leaned upon his crook or cross, and it happed by adventure\nthat he set the end of the crook, or his staff, upon the king's foot,\nand pierced his foot with the pike, which was sharp beneath. The king\nhad supposed that St. Patrick had done it wittingly, for to move him the\nsooner to patience and to the faith of God, but when St. Patrick\nperceived it he was much abashed, and by his prayers he healed the king.\nAnd furthermore he impetred and gat grace of our Lord that no venomous\nbeast might live in all the country, and yet unto this day is no\nvenomous beast in all Ireland.\n\nAfter it happed on a time that a man of that country stole a sheep,\nwhich belonged to his neighbor, whereupon St. Patrick admonested the\npeople that whomsoever had taken it should deliver it again within seven\ndays. When all the people were assembled within the church, and the man\nwhich had stolen it made no semblant to render ne deliver again this\nsheep, then St. Patrick commanded, by the virtue of God, that the sheep\nshould bleat and cry in the belly of him that had eaten it, and so\nhapped it that, in the presence of all the people, the sheep cried and\nbleated in the belly of him that had stolen it. And the man that was\nculpable repented him of his trespass, and the others from then forthon\nkept them from stealing of sheep from any other man.\n\nAlso St. Patrick was wont for to worship and do reverence unto all the\ncrosses devoutly that he might see, but on a time tofore the sepulchre\nof a Paynim stood a fair cross, which he passed and went forth by as he\nhad not seen it, and he was demanded of his fellows why he saw not that\ncross. And then he prayed to God he said for to know whose it was, and\nhe said he heard a voice under the earth saying: Thou sawest it not\nbecause I am a Paynim that am buried here, and am unworthy that the sign\nof the cross should stand there, wherefore he made the sign of the cross\nto be taken thence. On a time as St. Patrick preached in Ireland the\nfaith of Jesu Christ, and did but little profit by his predication, for\nhe could not convert the evil, rude and wild people, he prayed to our\nLord Jesu Christ that he would show them some sign openly, fearful and\nghastful, by which they might be converted and be repentant of their\nsins. Then, by the commandment of God, St. Patrick made in the earth a\ngreat circle with his staff, and anon the earth after the quantity of\nthe circle opened and there appeared a great pit and a deep, and St.\nPatrick by the revelation of God understood that there was a place of\npurgatory, in to which whomsoever entered therein he should never have\nother penance ne feel none other pain, and there was showed to him that\nmany should enter which should never return ne come again. And they that\nshould return should abide but from one morn to another, and no more,\nand many entered that came not again. As touching this pit or hole which\nis named St. Patrick's purgatory, some hold opinion that the second\nPatrick, which was an abbot and no bishop, that God showed to him this\nplace of purgatory; but certainly such a place there is in Ireland\nwherein many men have been, and yet daily go in and come again, and some\nhave had there marvellous visions and seen grisly and horrible pains, of\nwhom there be books made as of Tundale and others. Then this holy man\nSt. Patrick, the bishop, lived till he was one hundred and twenty-two\nyears old, and was the first that was bishop in Ireland, and died in\nAurelius Ambrose's time that was king of Britain. In his time was the\nAbbot Columba, otherwise named Colinkillus, and St. Bride whom St.\nPatrick professed and veiled, and she over-lived him forty years. All\nthese three holy saints were buried in Ulster, in the city of Dunence,\nas it were in a cave with three chambers. Their bodies were found at the\nfirst coming of King John, King Harry the second's son, into Ireland.\nUpon whose tombs these verses following were written: Hic jacent in Duno\nqui tumulo tumulantur in uno, Brigida, Patricius atque Columba pius,\nwhich is for to say in English: In Duno these three be buried all in one\nsepulchre: Bride, Patrick, and Columba the mild.\n\nMen say that this holy bishop, St. Patrick, did three great things. One\nis that he drove with his staff all the venomous beasts out of Ireland.\nThe second, that he had grant of our Lord God that none Irish man shall\nabide the coming of Antichrist. The third wonder is read of his\npurgatory, which is more referred to the less St. Patrick, the Abbot.\nAnd this holy abbot, because he found the people of that land rebel, he\nwent out of Ireland and came in to England in the Abbey of Glastonbury,\nwhere he died on a St. Bartholomew's day. He flourished about the year\nof our Lord eight hundred and fifty.\n\n\n\n\nOF SAINT FRANCIS\n\nHOW HE RECEIVED THE COUNSEL OF ST. CLARE AND OF BROTHER SILVESTER, AND\nHOW HE PREACHED UNTO THE BIRDS\n\n\nThe humble servant of Christ, St. Francis, a short while after his\nconversion, having already gathered together many companions and\nreceived them into the order, fell into deep thought and much doubting\nas to what he ought to do: whether to give himself wholly unto prayer,\nor some time also unto preaching: and on this matter he much desired to\nlearn the will of God. And for that the holy humility that was in him\nsuffered him not to trust over much in himself nor in his own prayers,\nhe thought to search out the will of God through the prayers of others:\nwherefore he called Brother Masseo, and bespake him thus: \"Go unto\nSister Clare and tell her on my behalf, that she with certain of her\nmost spiritual companions, should pray devoutly unto God, that it may\nplease Him to show me which of the twain is the better: whether to give\nmyself to preaching or wholly unto prayer. And then go unto Brother\nSilvester and tell the like to him.\" This was that Brother Silvester who\nwhen he was in the world had seen a cross of gold proceeding from the\nmouth of St. Francis, the which reached even unto heaven and the arms\nthereof unto the ends of the world, and this Brother Silvester was of\nso great devotion and so great sanctity, that whatsoe'er he asked of God\nwas granted him, and oftentimes he spake with God; wherefore St. Francis\nhad a great devotion unto him.\n\nSo Brother Masseo departed, and according to the bidding of St. Francis\ncarried his message first unto St. Clare and then unto Brother\nSilvester. Who, when he had heard thereof, forthwith fell on his knees\nin prayer, and as he prayed received answer from God, and turned to\nBrother Masseo, and bespake him thus: \"Thus saith the Lord: Say unto\nBrother Francis that God has not called him to this estate for himself\nalone, but to the end that he may gain fruit of souls, and that many\nthrough him may be saved.\" With this reply Brother Masseo returned to\nSt. Clare to learn what she had received of God, and she answered that\nGod had sent to her and her companions the same reply as He had given to\nBrother Silvester. Whereat Brother Masseo hied him back again to St.\nFrancis; and St. Francis received him with exceeding great love, washing\nhis feet and making ready for him the meal, and after he had eaten, St.\nFrancis called Brother Masseo into the wood; and there kneeled down\nbefore him and drew back his hood, stretching out his arms in the shape\nof a cross, and asked him: \"What has my Lord Jesu Christ commanded that\nI should do?\" Replied Brother Masseo: \"As unto Brother Silvester, so\nlikewise unto Sister Clare and her sisters, has Christ made answer and\nrevealed: that it is His will that thou go throughout the world to\npreach, since He hath chosen thee not for thyself alone, but also for\nthe salvation of others.\" And then St. Francis, when he had heard this\nanswer and known thereby the will of Jesu Christ, rose up with fervor\nexceeding great, and said: \"Let us be going in the name of God\"; and he\ntook for his companions Brother Masseo and Brother Agnolo, holy men. And\nsetting forth with fervent zeal of spirit, taking no thought for road or\nway, they came unto a little town that was called Savurniano, and St.\nFrancis set himself to preach, but first he bade the swallows that were\ntwittering keep silence till such time as he had done the preaching; and\nthe swallows were obedient to his word, and he preached there with such\nfervor that all the men and women of that town minded through their\ndevotion to come after him and leave the town, but St. Francis suffered\nthem not, saying: \"Make not ill haste nor leave your homes; and I will\nordain for you what ye should do for the salvation of your souls\": and\ntherewith he resolved to found the third Order, for the salvation of all\nthe world.\n\nAnd so leaving them much comforted and with minds firm set on penitence,\nhe departed thence and came unto a place between Cannaio and Bevagno.\nAnd as with great fervor he was going on the way, he lifted up his eyes\nand beheld some trees hard by the road whereon sat a great company of\nbirds well-nigh without number; whereat St. Francis marvelled, and said\nto his companions: \"Ye shall wait for me here upon the way and I will go\nto preach unto my little sisters, the birds.\" And he went unto the\nfield and began to preach unto the birds that were on the ground; and\nimmediately those that were on the trees flew down to him, and they all\nof them remained still and quiet together, until St. Francis made an end\nof preaching: and not even then did they depart, until he had given them\nhis blessing. And according to what Brother Masseo afterward related\nunto Robert Jacques da Massa, St. Francis went among them touching them\nwith his cloak, howbeit none moved from out his place. The sermon that\nSt. Francis preached unto them was after this fashion: \"My little\nsisters, the birds, much bounden are ye unto God, your Creator, and\nalways in every place ought ye to praise Him, for that He hath given you\nliberty to fly about everywhere, and hath also given you double and\ntriple raiment; moreover, He preserved your seed in the ark of Noah,\nthat your race might not perish out of the world; still more are ye\nbeholden to Him for the element of the air which he had appointed for\nyou; beyond all this, ye sow not, neither do you reap; and God feedeth\nyou, and giveth you the streams and fountains for your drink; the\nmountains and the valleys for your refuge and the high trees whereon to\nmake your nests; and because ye know not how to spin or sew, God\nclotheth you, you and your children; wherefore your Creator loveth you\nmuch, seeing that He hath bestowed on you so many benefits; and\ntherefore, my little sisters, beware of the sin of ingratitude, and\nstudy always to give praises unto God.\" Whenas St. Francis spake these\nwords to them, those birds began all of them to open their beaks, and\nstretch their necks, and spread their wings, and reverently bend their\nheads down to the ground, and by their acts and by their songs to show\nthat the holy Father gave them joy exceeding great. And St. Francis\nrejoiced with them, and was glad, and marvelled much at so great a\ncompany of birds and their most beautiful diversity and their good heed\nand sweet friendliness, for the which cause he devoutly praised their\nCreator in them. At the last, having ended the preaching, St. Francis\nmade over them the sign of the cross, and gave them leave to go away;\nand thereby all the birds with wondrous singing rose up in the air; and\nthen, in the fashion of the cross that St. Francis had made over them,\ndivided themselves into four parts; and the one part flew toward the\nEast, and the other toward the West, and the other toward the South, and\nthe fourth toward the North, and each flight went on its way singing\nwondrous songs; signifying thereby that even as St. Francis, the\nstandard-bearer of the Cross of Christ, had preached unto them, and made\nover them the sign of the cross, after the pattern of which they\nseparated themselves unto the four parts of the world: even so the\npreaching of the Cross of Christ, renewed by St. Francis, would be\ncarried by him and the brothers throughout the world; the which\nbrothers, after the fashion of the birds, possessing nothing of their\nown in this world, commit their lives wholly unto the providence of God.\n\n\nHOW ST. FRANCIS CONVERTED THE FIERCE WOLF OF AGOBIO\n\nWhat time St. Francis abode in the city of Agobio, there appeared in the\ncountry of Agobio an exceeding great wolf, terrible and fierce, the\nwhich not only devoured animals, but also men, insomuch that all the\ncity folk stood in great fear, sith ofttimes he came near to the city,\nand all men when they went out arrayed them in arms as it were for the\nbattle, and yet withal they might not avail to defend them against him\nwhensoe'er any chanced on him alone; for fear of this wolf they were\ncome to such a pass that none durst go forth of that place. For the\nwhich matter, St. Francis having compassion on the people of that land,\nwished to go forth unto that wolf, albeit the townsfolk all gave counsel\nagainst it: and making the sign of the most holy cross he went forth\nfrom that place with his companions, putting all his trust in God. And\nthe others misdoubting to go further, St. Francis took the road to the\nplace where the wolf lay. And lo! in the sight of many of the townsfolk\nthat had come out to see this miracle, the said wolf made at St. Francis\nwith open mouth: and coming up to him, St. Francis made over him the\nsign of the most holy cross, and called him to him, and bespake him\nthus: \"Come hither, brother wolf: I command thee in the name of Christ\nthat thou do no harm, nor to me nor to any one.\" O wondrous thing!\nWhenas St. Francis had made the sign of the cross, right so the\nterrible wolf shut his jaws and stayed his running: and when he was\nbid, came gently as a lamb and lay him down at the feet of St. Francis.\nThereat St. Francis thus bespake him: \"Brother wolf, much harm hast thou\nwrought in these parts and done grievous ill, spoiling and slaying the\ncreatures of God, without His leave: and not alone hast thou slain and\ndevoured the brute beasts, but hast dared to slay men, made in the image\nof God; for the which cause thou art deserving of the gibbet as a thief\nand a most base murderer; and all men cry out and murmur against thee\nand all this land is thine enemy. But I would fain, brother wolf, make\npeace between thee and these; so that thou mayest no more offend them,\nand they may forgive thee all thy past offences, and nor men nor dogs\npursue thee any more.\" At these words the wolf with movements of body,\ntail, and eyes, and by the bending of his head, gave sign of his assent\nto what St. Francis said, and of his will to abide therby. Then spake\nSt. Francis again: \"Brother wolf, sith it pleaseth thee to make and hold\nthis peace, I promise thee that I will see to it that the folk of this\nplace give thee food alway so long as thou shalt live, so that thou\nsuffer not hunger any more; for that I wot well that through hunger hast\nthou wrought all this ill. But sith I win for thee this grace, I will,\nbrother wolf, that thou promise me to do none hurt to any more, be he\nman or beast; dost promise me this?\" And the wolf gave clear token by\nthe bowing of his head that he promised. Then quoth St. Francis:\n\"Brother wolf, I will that thou plight me troth for this promise, that\nI may trust thee full well.\" And St. Francis stretching forth his hand\nto take pledge of his troth, the wolf lifted up his right paw before him\nand laid it gently on the hand of St. Francis, giving thereby such sign\nof good faith as he was able. Then quoth St. Francis: \"Brother wolf, I\nbid thee in the name of Jesu Christ come now with me, nothing doubting,\nand let us go stablish this peace in God's name.\" And the wolf obedient\nset forth with him, in fashion as a gentle lamb; whereat the townsfolk\nmade mighty marvel, beholding. And straightway the bruit of it was\nspread through all the city, so that all the people, men-folk and\nwomen-folk, great and small, young and old, gat them to the market place\nfor to see the wolf with St. Francis.\n\nAnd the people being gathered all together, St. Francis rose up to\npreach, avizing them among other matters how for their sins God suffered\nsuch things to be, and pestilences also: and how far more parlous is the\nflame of hell, the which must vex the damned eternally, than is the fury\nof the wolf that can but slay the body; how much then should men fear\nthe jaws of hell, when such a multitude stands sore adread of the jaws\nof one so small a beast? Then turn ye, beloved, unto God, and work out a\nfit repentance for your sins; and God will set you free from the wolf in\nthis present time, and in time to come from out the fires of hell. And\ndone the preaching, St. Francis said: \"Give ear, my brothers: brother\nwolf, who standeth here before ye, hath promised me and plighted troth\nto make his peace with you, and to offend no more in any thing; and do\nye promise him to give him every day whate'er he needs: and I am made\nhis surety unto you that he will keep this pact of peace right\nsteadfastly.\" Then promised all the folk with one accord to give him\nfood abidingly. Then quoth St. Francis to the wolf before them all: \"And\nthou, brother wolf, dost thou make promise to keep firm this pact of\npeace, that thou offend not man nor beast nor any creature?\" And the\nwolf knelt him down and bowed his head: and with gentle movements of his\nbody, tail, and eyes, gave sign as best he could that he would keep\ntheir pact entire. Quoth St. Francis: \"Brother wolf, I wish that as thou\nhast pledged me thy faith to this promise without the gate, even so\nshouldest thou pledge me thy faith to thy promise before all the people,\nand that thou play me not false for my promise, and the surety that I\nhave given for thee.\" Then the wolf lifting up his right paw, laid it in\nthe hand of St. Francis. Therewith, this act, and the others set forth\nabove, wrought such great joy and marvel in all the people, both through\ndevotion to the saint, and through the newness of the miracle, and\nthrough the peace with the wolf, that all began to lift up their voices\nunto heaven praising and blessing God, that had sent St. Francis unto\nthem, who by his merits had set them free from the jaws of the cruel\nbeast. And thereafter this same wolf lived two years in Agobio; and went\nlike a tame beast in and out the houses, from door to door, without\ndoing hurt to any or any doing hurt to him, and was courteously\nnourished by the people; and as he passed thuswise through the country\nand the houses, never did any dog bark behind him. At length, after a\ntwo years' space, brother wolf died of old age: whereat the townsfolk\nsorely grieved, sith marking him pass so gently through the city, they\nminded them the better of the virtue and the sanctity of St. Francis.\n\n\nHOW ST. FRANCIS TAMED THE WILD TURTLE-DOVES\n\nIt befell on a day that a certain young man had caught many\nturtle-doves: and as he was carrying them for sale, St. Francis, who had\never a tender pity for gentle creatures, met him, and looking on those\nturtle-doves with pitying eyes, said to the youth: \"I pray thee give\nthem me, that birds so gentle, unto which the Scripture likeneth chaste\nand humble and faithful souls, may not fall into the hands of cruel men\nthat would kill them.\" Forthwith, inspired of God, he gave them all to\nSt. Francis; and he receiving them into his bosom, began to speak\ntenderly unto them: \"O my sisters, simple-minded turtle-doves, innocent\nand chaste, why have ye let yourselves be caught? Now would I fain\ndeliver you from death and make you nests, that ye may be fruitful and\nmultiply, according to the commandments of your Creator.\" And St.\nFrancis went and made nests for them all: and they abiding therein,\nbegan to lay their eggs and hatch them before the eyes of the brothers:\nand so tame were they, they dwelt with St. Francis and all the other\nbrothers as though they had been fowls that had always fed from their\nhands, and never did they go away until St. Francis with his blessing\ngave them leave to go. And to the young man who had given them to him,\nSt. Francis said: \"My little son, thou wilt yet be a brother in this\nOrder and do precious service unto Jesu Christ.\" And so it came to pass;\nfor the said youth became a brother and lived in the Order in great\nsanctity.\n\n\n\n\nSONG OF THE EMIGRANTS IN BERMUDA\n\n\nWhere the remote Bermudas ride\nIn the ocean's bosom unespied,\nFrom a small boat that row'd along\nThe listening winds received this song:\n\"What should we do but sing His praise\nThat led us through the watery maze\nWhere He the huge sea-monsters wracks\nThat lift the deep upon their backs,\nUnto an isle so long unknown,\nAnd yet far kinder than our own?\nHe lands us on a grassy stage,\nSafe from the storms, and prelate's rage:\nHe gave us this eternal spring\nWhich here enamels everything,\nAnd sends the fowls to us in care\nOn daily visits through the air.\nHe hangs in shades the orange bright\nLike golden lamps in a green night,\nAnd does in the pomegranates close\nJewels more rich than Ormus shows:\nHe makes the figs our mouths to meet,\nAnd throws the melons at our feet;\nBut apples plants of such a price,\nNo tree could ever bear them twice!\nWith cedars chosen by his hand\nFrom Lebanon he stores the land;\nAnd makes the hollow seas that roar\nProclaim the ambergris on shore.\nHe cast (of which we rather boast)\nThe Gospel's pearl upon our coast;\nAnd in these rocks for us did frame\nA temple where to sound His name.\nO let our voice His praise exalt\nTill it arrive at Heaven's vault,\nWhich then perhaps rebounding may\nEcho beyond the Mexique bay!\"\n--Thus sung they in the English boat\nA holy and a cheerful note:\nAnd all the way, to guide their chime,\nWith falling oars they kept the time.\n\n_--A. Marvell_\n\n\n\n\nLANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS IN NEW ENGLAND\n\n\nThe breaking waves dash'd high\n  On a stern and rock-bound coast,\nAnd the woods against a stormy sky\n  Their giant branches toss'd;\n\nAnd the heavy night hung dark\n  The hills and waters o'er,\nWhen a band of exiles moor'd their bark\n  On the wild New England shore.\n\nNot as the conqueror comes,\n  They, the true-hearted, came;\nNot with the roll of the stirring drums,\n  And the trumpet that sings of fame;\n\nNot as the flying come,\n  In silence and in fear;--\nThey shook the depths of the desert gloom\n  With their hymns of lofty cheer.\n\nAmidst the storm they sang,\n  And the stars heard and the sea;\nAnd the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang\n  To the anthem of the free!\n\nThe ocean eagle soar'd\n  From his nest by the white wave's foam;\nAnd the rocking pines of the forest roar'd--\n  This was their welcome home!\n\nThere were men with hoary hair\n  Amidst that pilgrim band;--\nWhy had _they_ come to wither there,\n  Away from their childhood's land?\n\nThere was woman's fearless eye,\n  Lit by her deep love's truth;\nThere was manhood's brow serenely high,\n  And the fiery heart of youth.\n\nWhat sought they thus afar?--\n  Bright jewels of the mine?\nThe wealth of seas, the spoils of war?--\n  They sought a faith's pure shrine!\n\nAy, call it holy ground,\n  The soil where first they trod.\nThey have left unstain'd what there they found--\n  Freedom to worship God.\n\n_--Felicia Browne Hemans_\n\n\n\n\nTHE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS\n\n_IN THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM_\n\n\nAs I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain\nplace where was a den, and laid me down in that place to sleep; and as I\nslept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, and behold, I saw a man clothed\nwith rags standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house,\na book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back. I looked, and saw\nhim open the book and read therein; and as he read he wept and trembled;\nand not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable\ncry, saying, \"What shall I do?\"\n\nIn this plight, therefore, he went home, and restrained himself as long\nas he could, that his wife and children should not perceive his\ndistress; but he could not be silent long, because that his trouble\nincreased. Wherefore at length he brake his mind to his wife and\nchildren; and thus he began to talk to them: \"O my dear wife,\" said he,\n\"and you the children of my bowels, I, your dear friend, am in myself\nundone by reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me; moreover, I am\ncertainly informed that this our city will be burned with fire from\nheaven; in which fearful overthrow, both myself, with thee, my wife, and\nyou, my sweet-babes, shall miserably come to ruin, except (the which\nyet I see not) some way of escape _can_ be found whereby we may be\ndelivered.\"\n\nAt this his relations were sore amazed; not for that they believed that\nwhat he said to them was true, but because they thought that some frenzy\ndistemper had got into his head; therefore, it drawing toward night, and\nthey hoping that sleep might settle his brains, with all haste they got\nhim to bed. But the night was as troublesome to him as the day;\nwherefore, instead of sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears. So when\nthe morning was come, they would know how he did. He told them, \"Worse\nand worse\": he also set to talking to them again; but they began to be\nhardened. They also thought to drive away his distemper by harsh and\nsurly carriage to him; sometimes they would deride, sometimes they would\nchide, and sometimes they would quite neglect him. Wherefore he began to\nretire himself to his chamber to pray for and pity them, and also to\ncondole his own misery; he would also walk solitarily in the fields,\nsometimes reading and sometimes praying; and thus for some days he spent\nhis time.\n\nNow I saw, upon a time, when he was walking in the fields, that he was,\nas he was wont, reading in his book, and greatly distressed in his mind;\nand as he read, he burst out, as he had done before, crying, \"What shall\nI do to be saved?\"\n\nI saw also that he looked this way, and that way, as if he would run;\nyet he stood still, because, as I perceived, he could not tell which\nway to go. I looked then, and saw a man named Evangelist coming to him,\nand he asked, \"Wherefore dost thou cry?\"\n\nHe answered, \"Sir, I perceive, by the book in my hand, that I am\ncondemned to die, and after that to come to judgment; and I find that I\nam not willing to do the first, nor able to do the second.\"\n\nThen said Evangelist, \"Why not willing to die, since this life is\nattended with so many evils?\" The man answered, \"Because I fear that\nthis burden that is upon my back will sink me lower than the grave and I\nshall fall into Tophet. And, sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I am\nnot fit to go to judgment, and from thence to execution; and the\nthoughts of these things make me cry.\"\n\nThen said Evangelist, \"If this be thy condition, why standest thou\nstill?\" He answered, \"Because I know not whither to go.\" Then he gave\nhim a parchment roll, and there was written within, \"Flee from the wrath\nto come.\"\n\nThe man therefore read it and looking upon Evangelist very carefully,\nsaid, \"Whither must I fly?\" Then said Evangelist, pointing with his\nfinger over a very wide field, \"Do you see yonder wicket-gate?\" The man\nsaid, \"No.\" Then said the other, \"Do you see yonder shining light?\" He\nsaid, \"I think I do.\" Then said Evangelist, \"Keep that light in your\neye, and go up directly thereto, so shalt thou see the gate; at which,\nwhen thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do.\" So I saw\nin my dream that the man began to run. Now he had not run far from his\nown door when his wife and children, perceiving it, began to cry after\nhim to return; but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on,\ncrying, \"Life! life! eternal life!\" So he looked not behind him; but\nfled toward the middle of the plain.\n\nThe neighbors also came out to see him run; and as he ran some mocked,\nothers threatened, and some cried after him to return; and among those\nthat did so, there were two that resolved to fetch him back by force.\nThe name of the one was Obstinate, and the name of the other Pliable.\nNow by this time the man was got a good distance from them; but however\nthey were resolved to pursue him, which they did, and in a little time\nthey overtook him. Then said the man, \"Neighbors, wherefore are ye\ncome?\" They said, \"To persuade you to go back with us.\" But he said,\n\"That can by no means be; you dwell,\" said he, \"in the City of\nDestruction, the place also where I was born: I see it to be so; and\ndying there, sooner or later you will sink lower than the grave, into a\nplace that burns with fire and brimstone: be content, good neighbors,\nand go along with me.\"\n\nWhat! said Obstinate, and leave our friends and comforts behind us?\n\nYes, said Christian, for that was his name, because that all which you\nforsake is not worthy to be compared with a little of that I am seeking\nto enjoy; and if you will go along with me, and hold it, you shall fare\nas I myself; for there, where I go, is enough and to spare. Come away,\nand prove my words.\n\n_Obst._ What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to\nfind them?\n\n_Chr._ I seek an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth\nnot away; and it is laid up in heaven, and safe there, to be bestowed at\nthe time appointed, on them that diligently seek it. Read it so, if you\nwill, in my book.\n\nTush, said Obstinate, away with your book; will you go back with us or\nno?\n\nNo, not I, said the other, because I have laid my hand to the plow.\n\n_Obst._ Come then, neighbor Pliable, let us turn again, and go home\nwithout him; there is a company of these crazy-headed coxcombs, that\nwhen they take a fancy by the end, are wiser in their own eyes than\nseven men that can render a reason.\n\n_Pli._ Then said Pliable, Don't revile; if what the good Christian says\nis true, the things he looks after are better than ours; my heart\ninclines to go with my neighbor.\n\n_Obst._ What! more fools still? Be ruled by me and go back; who knows\nwhither such a brain-sick fellow will lead you? Go back, go back, and be\nwise.\n\n_Chr._ Come with me, neighbor Pliable; there are such things to be had\nwhich I spoke of, and many more glories beside. If you believe not me,\nread here in this book; and for the truth of what is expressed therein,\nbehold, all is confirmed by the blood of him that made it.\n\n_Pli._ Well, neighbor Obstinate, said Pliable, I begin to come to a\npoint; I intend to go along with this good man, and to cast in my lot\nwith him: but, my good companion, do you know the way to this desired\nplace?\n\n_Chr._ I am directed by a man, whose name is Evangelist, to speed me to\na little gate that is before us, where we shall receive instruction\nabout the way.\n\n_Pli._ Come then, good neighbor, let us be going.\n\nThen they went both together.\n\n_Obst._ And I will go back to my place, said Obstinate. I will be no\ncompanion of such misled, fantastical fellows.\n\nNow I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate was gone back, Christian and\nPliable went talking over the plain, and thus they began their\ndiscourse.\n\n_Chr._ Come, neighbor Pliable, how do you do? I am glad you are\npersuaded to go along with me. Had even Obstinate himself but felt what\nI have felt of the powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would\nnot thus lightly have given us the back.\n\n_Pli._ Come, neighbor Christian, since there are none but us two here,\ntell me now further, what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither\nwe are going.\n\n_Chr._ I can better conceive of them with my mind, than speak of them\nwith my tongue: but yet since you are desirous to know, I will read them\nin my book.\n\n_Pli._ And do you think that the words of your book are certainly true?\n\n_Chr._ Yes, verily; for it was made by him that cannot lie.\n\n_Pit._ Well said; what things are they?\n\n_Chr._ There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting life\nto be given us, that we may inhabit that kingdom forever.\n\n_Pli._ Well said; and what else?\n\n_Chr._ There are crowns of glory to be given us; and garments that will\nmake us shine like the sun in the firmament of heaven.\n\n_Pli._ This is excellent: and what else?\n\n_Chr._ There shall be no more crying nor sorrow, for he that is owner of\nthe place will wipe all tears from our eyes.\n\n_Pli._ And what company shall we have there?\n\n_Chr._ There we shall be with seraphims and cherubims; creatures that\nwill dazzle your eyes to look on them. There also you shall meet with\nthousands and ten thousands that have gone before us to that holy place;\nnone of them are hurtful, but loving and holy; every one walking in the\nsight of God, and standing in his presence with acceptance forever. In a\nword, there we shall see the elders with their golden crowns; there we\nshall see the holy virgins with their golden harps; there we shall see\nmen that by the world were cut in pieces, burned in flames, eaten of\nbeasts, drowned in the sea for the love they bare to the Lord of the\nplace; all well and clothed with immortality as with a garment.\n\n_Pli._ The hearing of this is enough to ravish one's heart. But are\nthese things to be enjoyed? How shall we get to be sharers thereof?\n\n_Chr._ The Lord, the governor of the country, hath recorded that in this\nbook; the substance of which is, If we be truly willing to have it, he\nwill bestow it upon us freely.\n\n_Pli._ Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things: come\non, let us mend our pace.\n\n_Chr._ I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this burden that is\non my back.\n\nNow I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended this talk, they drew\nnigh to a very miry slough that was in the midst of the plain: and they,\nbeing heedless, did both fall suddenly into the bog. The name of the\nslough was Despond. Here, therefore, they wallowed for a time, being\ngrievously bedaubed with dirt; and Christian, because of the burden that\nwas on his back, began to sink in the mire.\n\n_Pli._ Then said Pliable, Ah, neighbor Christian, where are you now?\n\n_Chr._ Truly, said Christian, I do not know.\n\n_Pli._ At this Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his\nfellow, Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of? If we\nhave such ill speed at our first setting out, what may we expect between\nthis and our journey's end? May I get out again with my life, you shall\npossess the brave country alone for me. And with that he gave a\ndesperate struggle or two, and got out of the mire on that side of the\nslough which was next to his own house: so away he went, and Christian\nsaw him no more.\n\nWherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of Despond alone:\nbut still he endeavored to struggle to that side of the slough that was\nfurthest from his own house, and next to the wicket-gate; the which he\ndid, but could not get out because of the burden that was upon his back:\nbut I beheld in my dream, that a man came to him, whose name was Help,\nand asked him, \"What he did there?\"\n\n_Chr._ Sir, said Christian, I was bid to go this way by a man called\nEvangelist, who directed me also to yonder gate, that I might escape the\nwrath to come. And as I was going thither I fell in here.\n\n_Help._ But why did not you look for the steps?\n\n_Chr._ Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, and fell in.\n\n_Help._ Then said he, Give me thine hand; so he gave him his hand, and\nhe drew him out, and he set him upon sound ground, and bid him go on his\nway.\n\nThen I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, \"Sir, wherefore,\nsince over this place is the way from the City of Destruction to yonder\ngate, is it, that this plat is not mended, that poor travellers might go\nthither with more security?\" And he said unto me, \"This miry slough is\nsuch a place as cannot be mended: it is the descent whither the scum and\nfilth that attends conviction for sin doth continually run, and\ntherefore it is called the Slough of Despond; for still as the sinner\nis awakened about his lost condition, there arise in his soul many\nfears and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all of them get\ntogether, and settle in this place: and this is the reason of the\nbadness of this ground.\n\n\"It is not the pleasure of the King that this place should remain so\nbad. His laborers also have, by the direction of his Majesty's\nsurveyors, been for above these sixteen hundred years employed about\nthis patch of ground, if perhaps it might have been mended: yea, and to\nmy knowledge,\" said he, \"here have been swallowed up at least twenty\nthousand cart-loads, yea, millions, of wholesome instructions, that have\nat all seasons been brought from all places of the King's dominions--and\nthey that can tell, say, they are the best materials to make good ground\nof the place--if so be it might have been mended; but it is the Slough\nof Despond still, and so will be when they have done what they can.\n\n\"True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain good and\nsubstantial steps, placed even through the very midst of this slough;\nbut at such time as this place doth much spew out its filth, as it doth\nagainst change of weather, these steps are hardly seen; or if they be,\nmen, through the dizziness of their heads, step beside, and then they\nare bemired to purpose, notwithstanding the steps be there; but the\nground is good when they are once in at the gate.\"\n\nNow I saw in my dream, that by this time Pliable was got home to his\nhouse. So his neighbors came to visit him; and some of them called him\nwise man for coming back, and some called him fool for hazarding\nhimself with Christian; others again did mock at his cowardliness;\nsaying, \"Surely, since you began to venture, I would not have been so\nbase to have given out for a few difficulties:\" so Pliable sat sneaking\namong them. But at last he got more confidence, and then they all turned\ntheir tales, and began to deride poor Christian behind his back. And\nthus much concerning Pliable.\n\nSo, in the process of time, Christian got up to the gate. Now, over the\ngate there was written, \"Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.\"\n\nHe knocked, therefore, more than once or twice, saying,\n\n  May I now enter here? Will he within\n  Open to sorry me, though I have been\n  An undeserving rebel? Then shall I\n  Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high.\n\nAt last there came a grave person to the gate, named Goodwill, who asked\nwho was there, and whence he came, and what he would have.\n\n_Chr._ Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from the City of\nDestruction, but am going to Mount Zion, that I may be delivered from\nthe wrath to come: I would, therefore, sir, since I am informed that by\nthis gate is the way thither, know if you are willing to let me in.\n\n_Good._ I am willing with all my heart, said he; and with that he opened\nthe gate.\n\nSo when Christian was stepping in, the other gave him a pull. Then said\nChristian, What means that? The other told him, A little distance from\nthis gate there is erected a strong castle, of which Beelzebub is the\ncaptain; from thence both he and they that are with him shoot arrows at\nthose who come up to this gate, if haply they may die before they can\nenter it. Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble.\n\nNow I saw in my dream, that the highway which Christian was to go was\nfenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was called Salvation.\nUp this way therefore did burdened Christian run, but not without great\ndifficulty, because of the load on his back.\n\nHe ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending; and upon that\nplace stood a cross, and a little below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. So\nI saw in my dream, that just as Christian came up with the cross, his\nburden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and\nbegan to tumble, and so continued to do till it came to the mouth of the\nsepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more.\n\nThen was Christian glad and lightsome, and said with a merry heart, \"He\nhath given me rest by his sorrow, and life by his death.\" Then he stood\nstill awhile to look and wonder; for it was very surprising to him that\nthe sight of the cross should thus ease him of his burden. He looked\ntherefore, and looked again, even till the springs that were in his head\nsent the waters down his cheeks. Now as he stood looking and weeping,\nbehold, three Shining Ones came to him, and saluted him with \"Peace be\nto thee.\" So the first said to him, \"Thy sins be forgiven thee;\" the\nsecond stripped him of his rags, and clothed him with change of raiment;\nthe third also set a mark on his forehead, and gave him a roll with a\nseal upon it, which he bid him look on as he ran, and that he should\ngive it in at the celestial gate; so they went their way.\n\nThen Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on singing:\n\n  Thus far did I come laden with my sin;\n  Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in,\n  Till I came hither; what a place is this!\n  Must here be the beginning of my bliss?\n  Must here the burden fall from off my back?\n  Must here the strings that bound it to me crack?\n  Blest cross! blest sepulchre! blest rather be\n  The man that there was put to shame for me.\n\nI saw then in my dream, that he went on thus, even until he came at the\nbottom, where he saw, a little out of the way, three men fast asleep,\nwith fetters upon their heels. The name of the one was Simple, of\nanother Sloth, and of the third Presumption.\n\nChristian then, seeing them lie in this case, went to them, if\nperadventure he might awake them, and cried, You are like them that\nsleep on the top of a mast, for the Dead Sea is under you, a gulf that\nhath no bottom: awake, therefore, and come away; be willing also, and I\nwill help you off with your irons. He also told them, If he that goeth\nabout like a roaring lion, comes by, you will certainly become a prey to\nhis teeth. With that they looked upon him, and began to reply in this\nsort: Simple said, I see no danger; Sloth said, Yet a little more\nsleep; and Presumption said, Every tub must stand upon its own bottom.\n\nAnd so they lay down to sleep again, and Christian went on his way.\n\nYet was he troubled to think, that men in that danger should so little\nesteem the kindness of him that so freely offered to help them, both by\nawakening of them, counselling of them, and proffering to help them off\nwith their irons. And as he was troubled thereabout, he espied two men\ncome tumbling over the wall on the left hand of the narrow way; and they\nmade up apace to him. The name of the one was Formalist, and the name of\nthe other Hypocrisy. So, as I said, they drew up unto him, who thus\nentered with him into discourse.\n\n_Chr._ Gentlemen, whence came you, and whither do you go?\n\n_Form._ and _Hyp._ We were born in the land of Vain-glory, and are\ngoing for praise to Mount Zion.\n\n_Chr._ Why came you not in at the gate which standeth at the beginning\nof the way? Know ye not that it is written, that \"he that cometh not in\nby the door, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a\nrobber?\"\n\nThey said, that to go to the gate for entrance was by all their\ncountrymen counted too far about; and that therefore their usual way was\nto make a short cut of it, and to climb over the wall as they had done.\n\n_Chr._ But will it not be counted a trespass against the Lord of the\ncity, whither we are bound, thus to violate his revealed will?\n\nThey told him, that as for that, he needed not to trouble his head\nthereabout: for what they did they had custom for, and could produce, if\nneed were, testimony that would witness it, for more than a thousand\nyears.\n\nBut, said Christian, will your practice stand a trial at law?\n\nThey told him, that custom, it being of so long standing as above a\nthousand years, would, doubtless, now be admitted as a thing legal by an\nimpartial judge. And besides, said they, if we get into the way, what\nmatter is it which way we get in? If we are in, we are in: thou art but\nin the way, who, as we perceive, came in at the gate: and we also are in\nthe way, that came tumbling over the wall: wherein now is thy condition\nbetter than ours?\n\n_Chr._ I walk by the rule of my Master: you walk by the rude working of\nyour fancies. You are counted thieves already by the Lord of the way:\ntherefore I doubt you will not be found true men at the end of the way.\nYou come in by yourselves, without his direction, and shall go out by\nyourselves, without his mercy.\n\nTo this they made him but little answer; only they bid him look to\nhimself. Then I saw that they went on every man in his way, without much\nconference one with another; save that these two men told Christian,\nthat as to laws and ordinances, they doubted not but that they should as\nconscientiously do them as he. Therefore, said they, we see not wherein\nthou differest from us, but by the coat that is on thy back, which was,\nas we trow, given thee by some of thy neighbors, to hide the shame of\nthy nakedness.\n\n_Chr._ By laws and ordinances you will not be saved, since you came not\nin by the door. And as for this coat that is on my back, it was given me\nby the Lord of the place whither I go; and that, as you say, to cover my\nnakedness with. And I take it as a token of his kindness to me; for I\nhad nothing but rags before. And, besides, thus I comfort myself as I\ngo. Surely, think I, when I come to the gate of the city, the Lord\nthereof will know me for good, since I have his coat on my back; a coat\nthat he gave me freely in the day that he stripped me of my rags. I\nhave, moreover, a mark in my forehead, of which perhaps you have taken\nno notice, which one of my lord's most intimate associates fixed there\nin the day that my burden fell off my shoulders. I will tell you,\nmoreover, that I had then given me a roll sealed, to comfort me by\nreading as I go in the way; I was also bid to give it in at the\ncelestial gate, in token of my certain going in after it; all which\nthings I doubt you want, and want them because you came not in at the\ngate.\n\nTo these things they gave him no answer; only they looked upon each\nother, and laughed. Then I saw that they went on all, save that\nChristian kept before, who had no more talk but with himself, and that\nsometimes sighingly, and sometimes comfortably; also he would be often\nreading in the roll that one of the Shining Ones gave him, by which he\nwas refreshed.\n\nI beheld, then, that they all went on till they came to the foot of the\nhill Difficulty, at the bottom of which there was a string. There were\nalso in the same place two other ways besides that which came straight\nfrom the gate; one turned to the left hand and the other to the right,\nat the bottom of the hill; but the narrow way lay right up the hill, and\nthe name of the going up the side of the hill is called Difficulty.\nChristian now went to the spring; and drank thereof to refresh himself,\nand then began to go up the hill, saying:\n\n  The hill, though high, I covet to ascend;\n  The difficulty will not me offend;\n  For I perceive the way to life lies here.\n  Come, pluck up heart, let's neither faint nor fear.\n  Better, though _difficult_, the right way to go,\n  Than wrong, though _easy_, where the end is woe.\n\nThe other two also came to the foot of the hill. But when they saw the\nhill was steep and high, and that there were two other ways to go; and\nsupposing also that these two ways might meet again with that up which\nChristian went on the other side of the hill; therefore they were\nresolved to go in those ways. Now the name of one of those ways was\nDanger, and the name of the other Destruction. So the one took the way\nwhich is called Danger, which led him into a great wood; and the other\ntook directly up the way to Destruction, which led him into a wide\nfield, full of dark mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no\nmore.\n\nI looked then after Christian, to see him go up the hill, where I\nperceived he fell from running to going, and from going to clambering\nupon his hands and his knees, because of the steepness of the place. Now\nabout midway to the top of the hill was a pleasant arbor, made by the\nLord of the hill for the refreshment of weary travellers. Thither,\ntherefore, Christian got, where also he sat down to rest him; then he\npulled his roll out of his bosom, and read therein to his comfort; he\nalso now began afresh to take a review of the coat or garment that was\ngiven him as he stood by the cross. Thus pleasing himself awhile, he at\nlast fell into a slumber, and thence into a fast sleep, which detained\nhim in that place until it was almost night; and in his sleep his roll\nfell out of his hand. Now as he was sleeping, there came one to him, and\nawaked him, saying, \"Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways,\nand be wise.\" And with that Christian suddenly started up, and sped him\non his way, and went apace till he came to the top of the hill.\n\nNow, when he was got up to the top of the hill, there came two men\nrunning to meet him amain; the name of the one was Timorous, and of the\nother Mistrust: to whom Christian said, Sirs, what's the matter? you run\nthe wrong way. Timorous answered, that they were going to the City of\nZion, and had got up that difficult place: but, said he, the further we\ngo the more danger we meet with; wherefore we turned, and are going back\nagain.\n\nYes, said Mistrust, for just before us lie a couple of lions in the\nway, whether sleeping or waking we know not, and we could not think, if\nwe came within reach, but they would presently pull us to pieces.\n\n_Chr._ Then said Christian, you make me afraid; but whither shall I fly\nto be safe? If I go back to my own country, that is prepared for fire\nand brimstone, and I shall certainly perish there; if I can get to the\nCelestial City, I am sure to be in safety there: I must venture. To go\nback is nothing but death; to go forward is fear of death and life\neverlasting beyond it. I will yet go forward. So Mistrust and Timorous\nrun down the hill, and Christian went on his way. But thinking again of\nwhat he heard from the man, he felt in his bosom for his roll, that he\nmight read therein and be comforted; but he felt and found it not. Then\nwas Christian in great distress, and knew not what to do; for he wanted\nthat which used to relieve him, and that which should have been his pass\ninto the Celestial City. Here, therefore, he began to be much perplexed,\nand knew not what to do. At last he bethought himself that he had slept\nin the arbor that is on the side of the hill; and falling down upon his\nknees, he asked God forgiveness for that his foolish act, and then went\nback to look for his roll. But all the way he went back, who can\nsufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christian's heart? Sometimes he\nsighed, sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so\nfoolish to fall asleep in that place, which was erected only for a\nlittle refreshment from his weariness. Thus, therefore, he went back,\ncarefully looking on this side and on that, all the way as he went, if\nhappily he might find his roll that had been his comfort so many times\nin his journey. He went thus till he came within sight of the arbor\nwhere he sat and slept; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by\nbringing again even afresh, his evil of sleeping unto his mind. Thus,\ntherefore, he now went on, bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, Oh,\nwretched man that I am, that I should sleep in the daytime! that I\nshould sleep in the midst of difficulty! that I should so indulge the\nflesh as to use that rest for ease to my flesh which the Lord of the\nhill hath erected only for the relief of the spirits of pilgrims! How\nmany steps have I taken in vain! Thus it happened to Israel: for their\nsin they were sent back again by the way of the Red Sea; and I am made\nto tread those steps with sorrow, which I might have trod with delight\nhad it not been for this sinful sleep. How far might I have been on my\nway by this time! I am made to tread those steps thrice over, which I\nneeded not to have trod but once: yea, also now I am like to be\nbenighted, for the day is almost spent. Oh, that I had not slept!\n\nNow by this time he was come to arbor again, where for awhile he sat\ndown and wept; but at last as Christian would have it, looking\nsorrowfully down under the settle, there he espied his roll, the which\nhe with trembling and haste catched up, and put it into his bosom. But\nwho can tell how joyful this man was when he had gotten his roll again?\nFor this roll was the assurance of his life, and acceptance at the\ndesired haven. Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to God\nfor directing his eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and tears\nbetook himself again to his journy. But oh, how nimbly now did he go up\nthe rest of the hill! Yet, before he got up, the sun went down upon\nChristian; and this made him again recall the vanity of his sleeping to\nhis remembrance; and thus he again began to condole with himself: O thou\nsinful sleep! how for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my journey!\nI must walk without the sun, darkness must cover the path of my feet,\nand I must hear the noise of the doleful creatures, because of my sinful\nsleep! Now also he remembered the story that Mistrust and Timorous told\nhim, of how they were frighted with the sight of the lions. Then said\nChristian to himself again, These beasts range in the night for their\nprey, and if they should meet with me in the dark, how should I shift\nthem? how should I escape being by them torn in pieces? Thus he went on\nhis way. But while he was thus bewailing his unhappy miscarriage, he\nlift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately palace before him,\nthe name of which was Beautiful, and it stood just by the highway side.\n\nSo I saw in my dream, that he made haste, and went forward, that if\npossible he might get lodging there. Now before he had gone far he\nentered into a very narrow passage, which was about a furlong off the\nPorter's lodge; and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he\nespied two lions in the way. Now, thought he, I see the dangers that\nMistrust and Timorous were driven back by. (The lions were chained, but\nhe saw not the chains.) Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to\ngo back after them; for he thought nothing but death was before him. But\nthe Porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful, perceiving that\nChristian made a halt, as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying,\nIs thy strength so small? Fear not the lions, for they are chained, and\nare placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for discovery of\nthose that have none; keep in the midst of the path and no hurt shall\ncome unto thee.\n\nThen I saw that he went on trembling for fear of the lions; but taking\ngood heed to the directions of the Porter, he heard them roar but they\ndid him no harm. Then he clapped his hands and went on till he came and\nstood before the gate where the Porter was. Then said Christian to the\nPorter, Sir, what house is this? and may I lodge here to-night? The\nPorter answered, This house was built by the Lord of the hill, and he\nbuilt it for the relief and security of pilgrims. The Porter also asked\nwhence he was, and whither he was going.\n\n_Chr._ I am come from the City of Destruction, and am going to Mount\nZion; but because the sun is now set, I desire, if I may, to lodge here\nto-night.\n\n_Port._ What is your name?\n\n_Chr._ My name is now Christian, but my name at the first was Graceless;\nI came of the race of Japheth, whom God will persuade to dwell in the\ntents of Shem.\n\n_Port._ But how doth it happen that you come so late? The sun is set.\n\n_Chr._ I had been here sooner, but that, wretched man as I am, I slept\nin the arbor that stands on the hillside. Nay, I had, notwithstanding\nthat, been here much sooner, but that in my sleep I lost my evidence,\nand came without it to the brow of the hill; and then feeling for it,\nand finding it not, I was forced with sorrow of heart to go back to the\nplace where I slept my sleep, where I found it; and now I am come.\n\n_Port._ Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, who\nwill, if she likes your talk, bring you in to the rest of the family,\naccording to the rules of the house. So Watchful, the Porter, rang a\nbell, at the sound of which came out of the door of the house a grave\nand beautiful damsel, named Discretion, and asked why she was called.\n\nThe Porter answered, This man is on a journey from the City of\nDestruction to Mount Zion, but being weary and benighted, he asked me if\nhe might lodge here to-night; so I told him I would call for thee, who,\nafter discourse had with him, mayest do as seemeth thee good, even\naccording to the law of the house.\n\nThen she asked him whence he was, and whither he was going; and he told\nher. She asked him also how he got into the way; and he told her. Then\nshe asked him what he had seen and met with in the way, and he told her.\nAnd at last she asked his name. So he said, It is Christian; and I have\nso much the more a desire to lodge here to-night, because, by what I\nperceive, this place was built by the Lord of the hill for the relief\nand security of pilgrims. So she smiled, but the water stood in her\neyes; and after a little pause she said, I will call forth two or three\nmore of the family. So she ran to the door, and called out Prudence,\nPiety, and Charity, who, after a little more discourse with him, had him\ninto the family; and many of them meeting him at the threshold of the\nhouse, said, Come in, thou blessed of the Lord; this house was built by\nthe Lord of the hill on purpose to entertain such pilgrims in. Then he\nbowed his head, and followed them into the house. So when he was come in\nand sat down, they gave him something to drink, and consented together\nthat, until supper was ready, some of them should have some particular\ndiscourse with Christian, for the best improvement of time; and they\nappointed Piety, Prudence, and Charity, to discourse with him.\n\nNow I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking together until supper\nwas ready. So when they had made ready they sat down to meat. Now the\ntable was furnished with fat things, and wine that was well refined; and\nall their talk at the table was about the Lord of the hill; as namely,\nwhat he had done, and wherefore he did what he did, and why he had\nbuilded that house; and by what they said, I perceived that he had been\na great warrior, and had fought with and slain him that had the power of\ndeath, but not without great danger to himself, which made me love him\nthe more.\n\nFor, as they said, and as I believe, said Christian, he did it with the\nloss of much blood. But that which put the glory of grace into all he\ndid, was, that he did it out of pure love to this country. And besides,\nthere was some of them of the household that said they had been and\nspoke with him since he did die on the cross; and they have attested,\nthat they had it from his own lips, that he is such a lover of poor\npilgrims, that the like is not to be found from the east to the west.\nThey, moreover, gave an instance of what they affirmed, and that was, he\nhad stripped himself of his glory that he might do this for the poor;\nand that they had heard him say and affirm, that he would not dwell in\nthe mountain of Zion alone. They said, moreover, that he had made many\npilgrims princes, though by nature they were beggars born, and their\noriginal had been the dunghill.\n\nThus they discoursed together till late at night: and after they had\ncommitted themselves to their Lord for protection, they betook\nthemselves to rest. The pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber,\nwhose window opened toward the sunrising. The name of the chamber was\nPeace, where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and sang:\n\n  Where am I now? Is this the love and care\n  Of Jesus, for the men that pilgrims are,\n  Thus to provide that I should be forgiven,\n  And dwell already the next door to heaven?\n\nSo in the morning they all got up; and after some more discourse, they\ntold him that he should not depart till they had showed him the\nrarities of that place. And first they had him into the study, where\nthey showed him records of the greatest antiquity; in which, as I\nremember my dream, they showed him the pedigree of the Lord of the hill,\nthat he was the Son of the Ancient of days, and came by that eternal\ngeneration. Here also was more fully recorded the acts that he had done,\nand the names of many hundreds that he had taken into his service; and\nhow he had placed them in such habitations, that could neither by length\nof days, nor decays of nature, be dissolved.\n\nThen they read to him some of the worthy acts that some of his servants\nhad done; as how they had subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness,\nobtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of\nfire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong,\nwaxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens.\n\nThen they read again another part of the records of the house, where it\nwas shown how willing their Lord was to receive into his favor any, even\nany, though they in time past had offered great affronts to his person\nand proceedings. Here also were several other histories of many other\nfamous things, of all which Christian had a view; as of things both\nancient and modern, together with prophecies and predictions of things\nthat have their certain accomplishment, both to the dread and amazement\nof enemies, and the comfort and solace of pilgrims.\n\nThe next day they took him, and had him into the armory, where they\nshowed him all manner of furniture which their Lord had provided for\npilgrims, as sword, shield, helmet, breastplate, all-prayer, and shoes\nthat would not wear out. And there was here enough of this to harness\nout as many men for the service of their Lord as there be stars in\nheaven for multitude.\n\nThey also showed him some of the engines with which some of his servants\nhad done wonderful things. They showed him Moses' rod; the hammer and\nnail with which Jael slew Sisera; the pitchers, trumpets, and lamps,\ntoo, with which Gideon put to flight the armies of Midian. Then they\nshowed him the ox's goad wherewith Shamgar slew six hundred men. They\nshowed him also the jaw-bone with which Samson did such mighty feats.\nThey showed him, moreover, the sling and stone with which David slew\nGoliath of Gath, and the sword also with which their Lord will kill the\nMan of Sin, in the day that he shall rise up to the prey. They showed\nhim besides many excellent things, with which Christian was much\ndelighted. This done, they went to their rest again.\n\nThen I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he got up to go forward, but\nthey desired him to stay till the next day also; and then, said they, we\nwill, if the day be clear, show you the Delectable Mountains; which,\nthey said, would yet further add to his comfort, because they were\nnearer the desired haven than the place where at present he was; so he\nconsented and stayed. When the morning was up, they had him to the top\nof the house, and bid him look south. So he did, and behold, at a great\ndistance, he saw a most pleasant, mountainous country, beautified with\nwoods, vineyards, fruit of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and\nfountains, very delectable to behold. Then he asked the name of the\ncountry. They said it was Immanuel's Land; and it is as common, said\nthey, as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. And when thou comest\nthere, from thence, said they, thou mayest see to the gate of the\nCelestial City, as the shepherds that live there will make appear.\n\nNow he bethought himself of setting forward, and they were willing he\nshould. But first, said they, let us go again into the armory. So they\ndid, and when he came there they harnessed him from head to foot with\nwhat was of proof, lest perhaps he should meet with assaults in the way.\nHe being therefore thus accoutred, walked out with his friends to the\ngate; and there he asked the Porter if he saw any pilgrim pass by. Then\nthe Porter answered, Yes.\n\n_Chr._ Pray, did you know him? said he.\n\n_Port._ I asked his name, and he told me it was Faithful.\n\n_Chr._ Oh, said Christian, I know him; he is my townsman, my dear\nneighbor; he comes from the place where I was born. How far do you think\nhe may be before?\n\n_Port._ He is got by this time below the hill.\n\n_Chr._ Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with thee, and add\nto thy blessings much increase for the kindness thou hast shown to me.\n\nThen he began to go forward; but Discretion, Piety, Chanty, and\nPrudence would accompany him down to the foot of the hill. So they went\non together, reiterating their former discourses, till they came to go\ndown the hill. Then said Christian, As it was difficult coming up, so,\nso far as I can see, it is dangerous going down. Yes, said Prudence, so\nit is; for it is a hard matter for a man to go down into the Valley of\nHumiliation, as thou art now, and to catch no slip by the way;\ntherefore, said they, are we come out to accompany thee down the hill.\nSo he began to go down, but very warily; yet he caught a slip or two.\n\nThen I saw in my dream, that these good companions, when Christian was\ngot down to the bottom of the hill, gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle\nof wine, and a cluster of raisins; and then he went his way.\n\nBut now, in this Valley of Humiliation, poor Christian was hard put to\nit; for he had gone but a little way before he espied a foul fiend\ncoming over the field to meet him: his name is Apollyon. Then did\nChristian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go\nback, or to stand his ground. But he considered again that he had no\narmor for his back, and therefore thought that to turn the back to him\nmight give him greater advantage with ease to pierce him with his darts;\ntherefore he resolved to venture, and stand his ground; for, thought he,\nhad I no more in mine eye than the saving of my life, it would be the\nbest way to stand.\n\nSo he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the monster was hideous to\nbehold; he was clothed with scales like a fish, and they are his pride;\nhe had wings like a dragon, and feet like a bear, and out of his belly\ncame fire and smoke; and his mouth was as the mouth of a lion. When he\ncame up to Christian he beheld him with a disdainful countenance, and\nthus began to question with him.\n\n_Apollyon._ Whence come you, and whither are you bound?\n\n_Chr._ I am come from the City of Destruction, which is the place of all\nevil, and I am going to the city of Zion.\n\n_Apol._ By this I perceive that thou art one of my subjects; for all\nthat country is mine, and I am the prince and god of it. How is it,\nthen, that thou hast run away from thy king? Were it not that I hope\nthou mayst do me more service, I would strike thee now at one blow to\nthe ground.\n\n_Chr._ I was, indeed, born in your dominions, but your service was hard,\nand your wages such as a man could not live on: for the wages of sin is\ndeath; therefore when I was come to years, I did, as other considerate\npersons do, look out, if perhaps I might mend myself.\n\n_Apol._ There is no prince that will thus lightly lose his subjects,\nneither will I as yet lose thee; but since thou complainest of thy\nservice and wages, be content to go back, and what our country will\nafford I do here promise to give thee.\n\n_Chr._ But I have let myself to another, even to the King of princes;\nand how can I with fairness go back with thee?\n\n_Apol._ Thou hast done in this according to the proverb, \"changed a bad\nfor worse\"; but it is ordinary for those that have professed themselves\nhis servants, after awhile to give him the slip, and return again to me.\nDo thou so too, and all shall be well.\n\n_Chr._ I have given him my faith, and sworn my allegiance to him; how\nthen can I go back from this, and not be hanged as a traitor?\n\n_Apol._ Thou didst the same to me, and yet I am willing to pass by all,\nif now thou wilt yet turn again and go back.\n\n_Chr._ What I promised thee was in my nonage; and besides, I count that\nthe Prince, under whose banner now I stand, is able to absolve me, yea,\nand to pardon also what I did as to my compliance with thee. And\nbesides, O thou destroying Apollyon, to speak truth, I like his service,\nhis wages, his servants, his government, his company, and country,\nbetter than thine; therefore leave off to persuade me further; I am his\nservant, and I will follow him.\n\n_Apol._ Consider again, when thou art in cool blood, what thou art like\nto meet with in the way that thou goest. Thou knowest that for the most\npart his servants come to an ill end, because they are transgressors\nagainst me and my ways. How many of them have been put to shameful\ndeaths! And besides, thou countest est his service better than mine;\nwhereas he never came yet from the place where he is, to deliver any\nthat serve him out of my hands; but as for me, how many times, as all\nthe world very well knows, have I delivered, either by power or fraud,\nthose that have faithfully served me, from him and his, though taken by\nthem. And so I will deliver thee.\n\n_Chr._ His forbearing at present to deliver them, is on purpose to try\ntheir love, whether they will cleave to him to the end; and as for the\nill end thou sayest they come to, that is most glorious in their\naccount. For, for the present deliverance, they do not much expect it;\nfor they stay for their glory; and then they shall have it, when their\nPrince comes in his, and the glory of the angels.\n\n_Apol._ Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy service to him; and how\ndost thou think to receive wages of him.\n\n_Chr._ Wherein, O Apollyon, have I been unfaithful to him?\n\n_Apol._ Thou didst faint at the first setting out, when thou wast almost\nchoked in the Gulf of Despond. Thou didst attempt wrong ways to be rid\nof thy burden, whereas thou shouldst have stayed till thy Prince had\ntaken it off. Thou didst sinfully sleep, and lose thy choice things.\nThou wast almost persuaded to go back at the sight of the lions. And\nwhen thou talkest of thy journey, and of what thou hast seen and heard,\nthou art inwardly desirous of vain-glory in all that thou sayest or\ndoest.\n\n_Chr._ All this is true, and much more which thou hast left out; but\nthe Prince whom I serve and honor is merciful and ready to forgive. But\nbesides, these infirmities possessed me in thy country; for there I\nsucked them in, and I have groaned under them, been sorry for them, and\nhave obtained pardon of my Prince.\n\n_Apol._ Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage, saying, I am an\nenemy to this Prince; I hate his person, his laws, and people; I am come\nout on purpose to withstand thee.\n\n_Chr._ Apollyon, beware what you do, for I am in the king's highway, the\nway of holiness; therefore take heed to yourself.\n\nThen Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of the way, and\nsaid, I am void of fear in this matter. Prepare thyself to die; for I\nswear by my infernal den, that thou shalt go no further; here will I\nspill thy soul. And with that he threw a naming dart at his breast: but\nChristian had a shield in his hand, with which he caught it, and so\nprevented the danger of that.\n\nThen did Christian draw, for he saw it was time to bestir him; and\nApollyon as fast made at him, throwing darts as thick as hail; by the\nwhich, notwithstanding all that Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon\nwounded him in his head, his hand, and foot. This made Christian give a\nlittle back: Apollyon, therefore, followed his work amain, and Christian\nagain took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore\ncombat lasted for about half a day, even till Christian was almost quite\nspent. For you must know, that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must\nneeds grow weaker and weaker.\n\nThen, Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to\nChristian, wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and with that\nChristian's sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am sure of\nthee now. And with that he had almost pressed him to death; so that\nChristian began to despair of life. But, as God would have it, while\nApollyon was fetching his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this\ngood man, Christian nimbly reached out his hand for his sword, and\ncaught it, saying, Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy; when I fall I\nshall arise; and with that gave him a deadly thrust, which made him give\nback, as one that had received his mortal wound. Christian perceiving\nthat, made at him again, saying, Nay, in all these things we are more\nthan conquerors through him that loved us. And with that Apollyon spread\nforth his dragon's wings, and sped him away, that Christian saw him no\nmore.\n\nIn this combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen and heard as I\ndid, what yelling and hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of the\nfight; he spake like a dragon: and on the other side, what sighs and\ngroans burst from Christian's heart. I never saw him all the while give\nso much as one pleasant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon\nwith his two-edged sword; then, indeed, he did smile, and look upward;\nbut it was the dreadfulest fight that I ever saw.\n\nSo when the battle was over, Christian said, I will here give thanks to\nhim that hath delivered me out of the mouth of the lion; to him that did\nhelp me against Apollyon. And so he did, saying:\n\n  Great Beelzebub, the captain of this fiend,\n  Design'd my ruin; therefore to this end\n  He sent him harness'd out, and he with rage,\n  That hellish was, did fiercely me engage:\n  But blessed Michael helped me, and I,\n  By dint of sword, did quickly make him fly.\n  Therefore to him let me give lasting praise,\n  And thank and bless his holy name always.\n\nThen there came to him a hand, with some of the leaves of the tree of\nlife, the which Christian took and applied to the wounds that he had\nreceived in the battle, and was healed immediately. He also sat down in\nthat place to eat bread, and to drink of the bottle that was given to\nhim a little before; so being refreshed, he addressed himself to his\njourney, with his sword drawn in his hand; for, he said, I know not but\nsome other enemy may be at hand. But he met with no other affront from\nApollyon quite through the valley.\n\nNow at the end of this valley was another, called the Valley of the\nShadow of Death; and Christian must needs go through it, because the way\nto the Celestial City lay through the midst of it. Now this valley is a\nvery solitary place; the prophet Jeremiah thus describes it: \"A\nwilderness, a land of deserts and pits, a land of drought, and of the\nshadow of death, a land that no man\" (but a Christian) \"passeth through,\nand where no man dwelt.\"\n\nNow here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight with Apollyon,\nas by the sequel you shall see.\n\nI saw then in my dream, that when Christian was got to the borders of\nthe Shadow of Death, there met him two men, children of them that\nbrought up an evil report of the good land--making haste to go back--to\nwhom Christian spake as follows:\n\n_Chr._ Whither are you going?\n\n_Men._ They said, Back, back, and we would have you do so too, if either\nlife or peace is prized by you.\n\nWhy, what's the matter? said Christian.\n\n_Men._ Matter? said they; we were going that way as you are going, and\nwent as far as we durst: and indeed we were almost past coming back; for\nhad we gone a little further, we had not been here to bring the news to\nthee.\n\nBut what have you met with? said Christian.\n\n_Men._ Why, we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, but\nthat by good hap we looked before us, and saw the danger before we came\nto it.\n\nBut what have you seen? said Christian.\n\n_Men._ Seen! why the valley itself, which is as dark as pitch: we also\nsaw there the hobgoblins, satyrs, and dragons of the pit; we heard also\nin that valley a continual howling and yelling, as of a people under\nunutterable misery, who there sat bound in affliction and irons; and\nover that valley hangs the discouraging clouds of confusion: death also\ndoth always spread his wings over it. In a word, it is every whit\ndreadful, being utterly without order.\n\nThen, said Christian, I perceive not yet, by what you have said, but\nthat this is my way to the desired haven.\n\n_Men._ Be it thy way, we will not choose it for ours.\n\nSo they parted, and Christian went on his way, but still with his sword\ndrawn in his hand, for fear lest he should be assaulted.\n\nI saw then in my dream, so far as this valley reached, there was on the\nright hand a very deep ditch; that ditch is it, into which the blind\nhave led the blind in all ages, and have both there miserably perished.\nAgain, behold, on the left hand there was a very dangerous quag, into\nwhich, if even a good man falls, he finds no bottom for his foot to\nstand on: into that quag King David once did fall, and had no doubt\ntherein been smothered, had not he that is able plucked him out.\n\nThe pathway was here also exceeding narrow, and therefore good Christian\nwas the more put to it; for when he sought, in the dark, to shun the\nditch on the one hand, he was ready to tip over into the mire on the\nother: also, when he sought to escape the mire, without great\ncarefulness he would be ready to fall into the ditch. Thus he went on,\nand I heard him here sigh bitterly; for beside the danger mentioned\nabove, the pathway was here so dark, that ofttimes, when he lifted up\nhis foot to go forward, he knew not where or upon what he should set it\nnext.\n\nAbout the midst of this valley I perceived the mouth of hell to be, and\nit stood also hard by the wayside. Now, thought Christian, what shall I\ndo? And ever and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such\nabundance, with sparks and hideous noises (things that cared not for\nChristian's sword, as did Apollyon before), that he was forced to put up\nhis sword, and betake himself to another weapon, called All-prayer; so\nhe cried, in my hearing, O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul. Thus\nhe went on a great while, yet still the flames would be reaching toward\nhim; also he heard doleful voices, and rushings to and fro, so that\nsometimes he thought he should be torn in pieces, or trodden down like\nmire in the streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these dreadful\nnoises were heard by him for several miles together: and coming to a\nplace where he thought he heard a company of fiends coming forward to\nmeet him, he stopped, and began to muse what he had best to do.\nSometimes he had half a thought to go back; then, again, he thought he\nmight be half way through the valley. He remembered, also, how he had\nalready vanquished many a danger; and that the danger of going back\nmight be much more than for to go forward. So he resolved to go on: yet\nthe fiends seemed to come nearer and nearer. But when they were come\neven almost at him, he cried out with a most vehement voice, I will walk\nin the strength of the Lord God. So they gave back, and came no further.\n\nOne thing I would not let slip. I took notice that now poor Christian\nwas so confounded that he did not know his own voice; and thus I\nperceived it. Just when he was come over against the mouth of the\nburning pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and stepped up\nsoftly to him, and whisperingly suggested many grievous blasphemies to\nhim, which he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind. This put\nChristian more to it than anything that he met with before, even to\nthink that he should now blaspheme him that he loved so much before. Yet\nif he could have helped it, he would not have done it; but he had not\nthe discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from whence these\nblasphemies came.\n\nWhen Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some\nconsiderable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, as going\nbefore him, saying, Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of\nDeath, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.\n\nThen was he glad, and that for these reasons:\n\nFirst, Because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God were in\nthis valley as well as himself.\n\nSecondly, For that he perceived God was with them, though in that dark\nand dismal state. And why not, thought he, with me? though by reason of\nthe impediment that attends this place, I cannot perceive it.\n\nThirdly, For that he hoped, could he overtake them, to have company by\nand by. So he went on, and called to him that was before; but he knew\nnot what to answer, for that he also thought himself to be alone. And by\nand by the day broke: then said Christian, \"He hath turned the shadow of\ndeath into the morning.\"\n\nNow morning being come, he looked back, not out of desire to return,\nbut to see, by the light of the day, what hazards he had gone through in\nthe dark. So he saw more perfectly the ditch that was on the one hand,\nand the quag that was on the other; also how narrow the way was which\nled between them both. Also now he saw the hobgoblins, and satyrs, and\ndragons of the pit, but all afar off; for after break of day they came\nnot nigh, yet they were discovered to him according to that which is\nwritten, \"He discovereth deep things out of darkness, and bringeth out\nto light the shadow of death.\"\n\nNow was Christian much affected with this deliverance from all the\ndangers of his solitary way; which dangers, though he feared them much\nbefore, yet he saw them more clearly now, because the light of the day\nmade them conspicuous to him. And about this time the sun was rising,\nand this was another mercy to Christian; for you must note, that though\nthe first part of the Valley of the Shadow of Death was dangerous, yet\nthis second part, which he was yet to go, was, if possible, far more\ndangerous; for, from the place where he now stood, even to the end of\nthe valley, the way was all along set so full of snares, traps, gins,\nand nets here, and so full of pits, pitfalls, deep holes, and shelvings\ndown there, that had it now been dark, as it was when he came the first\npart of the way, had he had a thousand souls, they had in reason been\ncast away; but, as I said, just now the sun was rising. Then said he,\n\"His candle shineth on my head, and by his light I go through darkness.\"\n\nIn this light, therefore, he came to the end of the valley. Now I saw\nin my dream, that at the end of the valley lay blood, bones, ashes, and\nmangled bodies of men, even of pilgrims that had gone this way formerly;\nand while I was musing what should be the reason, I espied a little\nbefore me a cave, where two giants, Pope and Pagan, dwelt in old time;\nby whose power and tyranny the men, whose bones, blood, ashes, etc., lay\nthere, were cruelly put to death. But by this place Christian went\nwithout much danger, whereat I somewhat wondered; but I have learned\nsince, that Pagan has been dead many a day; and as for the other, though\nhe be yet alive, he is, by reason of age, and also of the many shrewd\nbrushes that he met with in his younger days, grown so crazy and stiff\nin his joints, that he can now do little more than sit in his cave's\nmouth, grinning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails because\nhe cannot come at them.\n\nSo I saw that Christian went on his way; yet, at the sight of the old\nman that sat at the mouth of the cave, he could not tell what to think,\nespecially because he spoke to him, though he could not go after him,\nsaying, You will never mend till more of you be burned. But he held his\npeace, and set a good face on it, and so went by, and catched no hurt.\nThen sang Christian:\n\n  Oh, world of wonders (I can say no less),\n  That I should be preserved in that distress\n  That I have met with here! Oh, blessed be\n  That hand that from it hath deliver'd me!\n  Dangers in darkness, heaven, hell, and sin,\n  Did compass me, while I this vale was in;\n  Yea, snares, and pits, and traps, and nets did lie\n  My path about, that worthless, silly I\n  Might have been catch'd, entangled, and cast down,\n  But since I live, let Jesus wear the crown.\n\nNow as Christian went on his way, he came to a little ascent, which was\ncast up on purpose that pilgrims might see before them; up there,\ntherefore, Christian went; and looking forward, he saw Faithful before\nhim upon his journey. Then said Christian aloud, Ho, ho; so-ho; stay,\nand I will be your companion. At that Faithful looked behind him; to\nwhom Christian cried again, Stay, stay, till I come up to you. But\nFaithful answered, No, I am upon my life, and the avenger of blood is\nbehind me.\n\nAt this Christian was somewhat moved, and putting to all his strength,\nhe quickly got up with Faithful, and did also overrun him; so the last\nwas first. Then did Christian vain-gloriously smile, because he had\ngotten the start of his brother; but not taking good heed to his feet,\nhe suddenly stumbled and fell, and could not rise again until Faithful\ncame up to help him.\n\nThen I saw in my dream, they went very lovingly on together, and had\nsweet discourse of all things that had happened to them in their\npilgrimage.\n\nThen I saw in my dream, that when they were got out of the wilderness,\nthey presently saw a town before them, and the name of that town is\nVanity; and at the town there is a fair kept, called Vanity Fair. It is\nkept all the year long. It beareth the name of Vanity Fair because the\ntown where it is kept is lighter than vanity, and also, because all that\nis there sold, or that cometh thither, is vanity; as is the saying of\nthe wise, \"All that cometh is vanity.\"\n\nThis fair is no new erected business, but a thing of ancient standing. I\nwill show you the original of it.\n\nAlmost five thousand years ago there were pilgrims walking to the\nCelestial City, as these two honest persons are; and Beelzebub,\nApollyon, and Legion, with their companions, perceiving by the path that\nthe pilgrims made, that their way to the city lay through this town of\nVanity, they contrived here to set up a fair; a fair wherein should be\nsold all sorts of vanity, and that it should last all the year long.\nTherefore at this fair are all such merchandise sold as houses, lands,\ntrades, places, honors, preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts,\npleasures; and delights of all sorts, such as harlots, wives, husbands,\nchildren, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold,\npearls, precious stones, and what not.\n\nAnd moreover, at this fair there are at all times to be seen jugglings,\ncheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every\nkind.\n\nHere are to be seen, too, and that for nothing, thefts, murders,\nadulteries, false-swearers, and that of a blood-red color.\n\nAnd as, in other fairs of less moment, there are the several rows and\nstreets under their proper names, where such and such wares are vended:\nso here likewise you have the proper places, rows, streets, namely,\ncountries and kingdoms, where the wares of this fair are soonest to be\nfound. Here is the Britain Row, the French Row, the Italian Row, the\nSpanish Row, the German Row, where several sorts of vanities are to be\nsold. But as in other fairs some one commodity is as the chief of all\nthe fair, so the ware of Rome and her merchandise is greatly promoted in\nthis fair; only our English nation, with some others, have taken a\ndislike thereat.\n\nNow, as I said, the way to the Celestial City lies just through this\ntown where this lusty fair is kept; and he that would go to the city,\nand yet not go through this town, \"must needs go out of the world.\" The\nPrince of princes himself, when here, went through this town to his own\ncountry, and that upon a fair-day, too; yea, and as I think, it was\nBeelzebub, the chief lord of this fair, that invited him to buy of his\nvanities, yea, would have made him lord of the fair, would he but have\ndone him reverence as he went through the town. Yea, because he was such\na person of honor Beelzebub had him from street to street, and showed\nhim all the kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he might, if\npossible, allure that Blessed One to cheapen and buy some of his\nvanities; but he had no mind to the merchandise, and therefore left the\ntown without laying out so much as one farthing upon these vanities.\nThis fair, therefore, is an ancient thing of long standing, and a very\ngreat fair.\n\nNow these pilgrims, as I said, must needs go through this fair. Well, so\nthey did; but, behold, even as they entered into the fair, all the\npeople in the fair were moved, and the town itself, as it were, in a\nhubbub about them, and that for several reasons: For,\n\nFirst, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment as was\ndiverse from the raiment of any that traded in that fair. The people,\ntherefore, of the fair made a great gazing upon them; some said they\nwere fools; some they were bedlams; and some they were outlandish men.\n\nSecondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, so they did likewise at\ntheir speech; for few could understand what they said. They naturally\nspoke the language of Canaan; but they that kept the fair were the men\nof this world. So that from one end of the fair to the other they seemed\nbarbarians each to the other.\n\nThirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the merchandisers was,\nthat these pilgrims set very light by all their wares. They cared not so\nmuch as to look upon them; and if they called upon them to buy, they\nwould put their fingers in their ears, and cry, \"Turn away mine eyes\nfrom beholding vanity,\" and look upward, signifying that their trade and\ntraffic was in heaven.\n\nOne chanced mockingly, beholding the carriage of the men, to say unto\nthem, \"What will ye buy?\" But they looking gravely upon him, said, \"We\nbuy the truth.\" At that, there was an occasion taken to despise the men\nthe more; some mocking, some taunting, some speaking reproachfully, and\nsome calling upon others to smite them. At last things came to a hubbub\nand great stir in the fair, insomuch that all order was confounded. Now\nwas word presently brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly\ncame down, and deputed some of his most trusty friends to take those men\ninto examination about whom the fair was almost overturned. So the men\nwere brought to examination; and they that sat upon them asked whence\nthey came, whither they went, and what they did there in such an unusual\ngarb. The men told them that they were pilgrims and strangers in the\nworld, and that they were going to their own country, which was the\nheavenly Jerusalem; and that they had given no occasion to the men of\nthe town, nor yet to the merchandisers, thus to abuse them, and to let\nthem in their journey, except it was for that when one asked them what\nthey would buy, they said they would buy the truth. But they that were\nappointed to examine them did not believe them to be any other than\nbedlams and mad, or else such as came to put all things into a confusion\nin the fair. Therefore they took them and beat them, and besmeared them\nwith dirt, and then put them into the cage, that they might be made a\nspectacle to all the men of the fair. There, therefore, they lay for\nsome time, and were made the objects of any man's sport, or malice, or\nrevenge; the great one of the fair laughing still at all that befell\nthem. But the men being patient, and \"not rendering railing for railing,\nbut contrariwise blessing,\" and giving good words for bad, and kindness\nfor injuries done, some men in the fair that were more observing and\nless prejudiced than the rest, began to check and blame the baser\nsort for their continual abuses done by them to the men. They,\ntherefore, in angry manner, let fly at them again, counting them as bad\nas the men in the cage, and telling them that they seemed confederates\nand should be made partakers of their misfortunes. The others replied,\nthat, for aught they could see, the men were quiet and sober, and\nintended nobody any harm; and that there were many that traded in their\nfair that were more worthy to be put into the cage, yea, and pillory\ntoo, than were the men that they had abused. Thus, after divers words\nhad passed on both sides--the men behaving themselves all the while very\nwisely and soberly before them--they fell to some blows among\nthemselves, and did harm one to another. Then were these two poor men\nbrought before their examiners again, and there charged as being guilty\nof the late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat them\npitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains up and\ndown the fair, for an example and terror to others, lest any should\nspeak in their behalf, or join themselves unto them. But Christian and\nFaithful behaved themselves yet more wisely, and received the ignominy\nand shame that was cast upon them with so much meekness and patience,\nthat it won to their side--though but few in comparison of the\nrest--several of the men in the fair. This put the other party yet into\na greater rage, insomuch that they concluded the death of these two men.\nWherefore they threatened that neither cage nor irons should serve their\nturn, but that they should die for the abuse they had done, and for\ndeluding the men of the fair.\n\nThen were they remanded to the cage again until further order should be\ntaken with them. So they put them in, and made them fast in the stocks.\n\nHere, therefore, they called again to mind what they had heard from\ntheir faithful friend Evangelist, and were the more confirmed in their\nway and sufferings, by what he told them would happen to them. They also\nnow comforted each other, that whose lot it was to suffer, even he\nshould have the best of it; therefore each man secretly wished that he\nmight have that preferment. But committing themselves to the all-wise\ndisposal of him that ruleth all things, with much content they abode in\nthe condition in which they were until they should be otherwise disposed\nof.\n\nThen a convenient time being appointed, they brought them forth to their\ntrial, in order to their condemnation. When the time was come, they were\nbrought before their enemies, and arraigned. The judge's name was Lord\nHate-good; their indictment was one and the same in substance, though\nsomewhat varying in form; the contents whereof was this: That they were\nenemies to, and disturbers of, the trade; that they had made commotions\nand divisions in the town, and had won a party to their own most\ndangerous opinions, in contempt of the law of their prince.\n\nThen Faithful began to answer, that he had only set himself against that\nwhich had set itself against Him that is higher than the highest. And,\nsaid he, as for disturbance, I make none, being myself a man of peace:\nthe parties that were won to us, were won by beholding our truth and\ninnocence, and they are only turned from the worse to the better. And as\nto the king you talk of, since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I\ndefy him and all his angels.\n\nThen proclamation was made, that they that had aught to say for their\nlord the king against the prisoner at the bar, should forthwith appear,\nand give in their evidence. So there came in three witnesses, to wit,\nEnvy, Superstition, and Pickthank. They were then asked, if they knew\nthe prisoner at the bar; and what they had to say for their lord the\nking against him.\n\nThen stood forth Envy, and said to this effect: My lord, I have known\nthis man a long time, and will attest upon oath before this honorable\nbench, that he is--\n\n_Judge._ Hold--give him his oath.\n\nSo they sware him. Then he said, My lord, this man, notwithstanding his\nplausible name, is one of the vilest men in our country; he neither\nregardeth prince nor people, law nor custom, but doeth all that he can\nto possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, which he in the\ngeneral calls principles of faith and holiness. And in particular, I\nheard him once myself affirm, that Christianity and the customs of our\ntown of Vanity were diametrically opposite, and could not be reconciled.\nBy which saying, my lord, he doth at once not only condemn all our\nlaudable doings, but us in the doing of them.\n\nThen did the judge say to him, Hast thou any more to say?\n\n_Envy._ My lord, I could say much more, only I would not be tedious to\nthe court. Yet if need be, when the other gentlemen have given in their\nevidence, rather than anything shall be wanting that will despatch him,\nI will enlarge my testimony against him. So he was bid to stand by.\n\nThen they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the prisoner at the\nbar. They also asked, what he could say for their lord the king against\nhim. Then they sware him; so he began:\n\n_Super._ My lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, nor do I\ndesire to have further knowledge of him. However, this I know, that he\nis a very pestilent fellow, from some discourse I had with him, the\nother day, in this town; for then, talking with him, I heard him say,\nthat our religion was naught, and such by which a man could by no means\nplease God. Which saying of his, my lord, your lordship very well knows\nwhat necessarily thence will follow, to wit, that we still do worship in\nvain, are yet in our sins, and finally shall be damned: and this is that\nwhich I have to say.\n\nThen was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew in behalf of their\nlord the king against the prisoner at the bar.\n\n_Pick._ My lord, and you gentlemen all, this fellow I have known of a\nlong time, and have heard him speak things that ought not to be spoken;\nfor he hath railed on our noble prince Beelzebub, and hath spoken\ncontemptibly of his honorable friends, whose names are, the Lord Old\nMan, the Lord Carnal Delight, the Lord Luxurious, the Lord Desire of\nVain Glory, my old Lord Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with all the rest of\nour nobility; and he hath said, moreover, that if all men were of his\nmind, if possible, there is not one of these noblemen should have any\nlonger a being in this town. Besides, he hath not been afraid to rail on\nyou, my lord, who are now appointed to be his judge, calling you an\nungodly villain, with many other suchlike vilifying terms, with which he\nhath bespattered most of the gentry of our town.\n\nWhen this Pickthank had told his tale, the judge directed his speech to\nthe prisoner at the bar, saying, Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor,\nhast thou heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee?\n\n_Faith._ May I speak a few words in my own defence?\n\n_Judge._ Sirrah, sirrah, thou deservest to live no longer, but to be\nslain immediately upon the place; yet that all men may see our\ngentleness toward thee, let us hear what thou hast to say.\n\n_Faith._ 1. I say, then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath spoken, I never\nsaid aught but this, that what rule, or laws, or customs, or people,\nwere flat against the word of God, are diametrically opposite to\nChristianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince me of my error,\nand I am ready here before you to make my recantation.\n\n2. As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, and his charge against\nme, I said only this, that in the worship of God there is required a\ndivine faith; but there can be no divine faith without a divine\nrevelation of the will of God. Therefore, whatever is thrust into the\nworship of God, that is not agreeable to divine revelation, cannot be\ndone but by a human faith, which faith will not be profitable to eternal\nlife.\n\n3. As to what Mr. Pickthank has said, I say--avoiding terms, as that I\nam said to rail, and the like--that the prince of this town, with all\nthe rabblement, his attendants, by this gentleman named, are more fit\nfor a being in hell than in this town and country. And so the Lord have\nmercy upon me.\n\nThen the judge called to the jury--who all this while stood by to hear\nand observe--Gentlemen of the jury, you see this man about whom so great\nan uproar hath been made in this town; you have also heard what these\nworthy gentlemen have witnessed against him; also you have heard his\nreply and confession: it lieth now in your breast to hang him, or save\nhis life; but yet I think meet to instruct you in our law.\n\nThere was an act made in the days of Pharaoh the Great, servant to our\nprince, that, lest those of a contrary religion should multiply, and\ngrow too strong for him, their males should be thrown into the river.\nThere was also an act made in the day of Nebuchadnezzar the Great,\nanother of his servants, that whoever would not fall down and worship\nhis golden image, should be thrown into a fiery furnace. There was also\nan act made in the days of Darius, that whoso for some time called upon\nany God but him, should be cast into the lions' den. Now, the substance\nof these laws this rebel has broken, not only in thought--which is not\nto be borne--but also in word and deed; which must, therefore, needs be\nintolerable.\n\nFor that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a supposition, to prevent\nmischief, no crime being yet apparent; but here is a crime apparent. For\nthe second and third, you see he disputeth against our religion; and for\nthe treason that he hath confessed, he deserveth to die the death.\n\nThen went the jury out, whose names were Mr. Blindman, Mr. No-good, Mr.\nMalice, Mr. Lovelust, Mr. Liveloose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr.\nEnmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hatelight, and Mr. Implacable; who\neveryone gave in his private verdict against him among themselves, and\nafterward unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before the judge.\nAnd first among themselves, Mr. Blindman, the foreman, said, I see\nclearly that this man is a heretic. Then said Mr. No-good, Away with\nsuch a fellow from the earth. Ay, said Mr. Malice, for I hate the very\nlooks of him. Then said Mr. Lovelust, I could never endure him. Nor I,\nsaid Mr. Liveloose, for he would always be condemning my way. Hang him,\nhang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart\nriseth against him, said Mr. Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar.\nHanging is too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch him out\nof the way, said Mr. Hatelight. Then said Mr. Implacable, Might I have\nall the world given me, I could not be reconciled to him; therefore, let\nus forthwith bring him in guilty of death.\n\nAnd so they did; therefore he was presently condemned to be had from the\nplace where he was, to the place from whence he came, and there to be\nput to the most cruel death that could be invented.\n\nThey, therefore, brought him out, to do with him according to their law:\nand first they scourged him, then they buffeted him, then they lanced\nhis flesh with knives; after that they stoned him with stones; then\npricked him with their swords; and last of all, they burned him to ashes\nat the stake. Thus came Faithful to his end.\n\nNow I saw that there stood behind the multitude a chariot and a couple\nof horses, waiting for Faithful, who, so soon as his adversaries had\ndespatched him, was taken up into it, and straightway was carried up\nthrough the clouds with sound of trumpet, the nearest way to the\ncelestial gate.\n\nBut as for Christian, he had some respite, and was remanded back to\nprison; so he there remained for a space. But he who overrules all\nthings, having the power of their rage in his own hand, so wrought it\nabout, that Christian for that time escaped them, and went his way.\n\nAnd as he went he sang, saying:\n\n  Well, Faithful, thou hast faithfully profest\n  Unto thy Lord, with whom thou shall be blest,\n  When faithless ones, with all their vain delights,\n  Are crying out under their hellish plights;\n  Sing, Faithful, sing, and let thy name survive,\n  For though they killed thee, thou art yet alive.\n\nNow I saw in my dream that Christian went not forth alone; for there was\none whose name was Hopeful--being so made by the beholding of Christian\nand Faithful in their words and behavior, in their sufferings at the\nfair--who joined himself unto him, and entering into a brotherly\ncovenant, told him that he would be his companion. Thus one died to bear\ntestimony to the truth, and another rises out of his ashes to be a\ncompanion with Christian in his pilgrimage. This Hopeful also told\nChristian, that there were many more of the men in the fair that would\ntake their time and follow after.\n\nI saw then that they went on their way to a pleasant river, which David\nthe king called \"the river of God,\" but John, \"the river of the water of\nlife.\" Now their way lay just upon the bank of this river; here,\ntherefore, Christian and his companion walked with great delight; they\ndrank also of the water of the river, which was pleasant and enlivening\nto their weary spirits. Besides, on the banks of this river, on either\nside, were green trees, with all manner of fruit; and the leaves they\nate to prevent surfeits, and other diseases that are incident to those\nwho heat their blood by travel. On either side of the river was also a\nmeadow, curiously beautified with lilies; and it was green all the year\nlong. In this meadow they lay down and slept, for here they might lie\ndown safely. When they awoke, they gathered again of the fruit of the\ntrees, and drank again of the water of the river, and then lay down\nagain to sleep. Thus they did several days and nights. Then they sang:\n\n  Behold ye how these crystal streams do glide,\n  To comfort pilgrims by the highway-side,\n  The meadows green, besides their fragrant smell,\n  Yield dainties for them; and he who can tell\n  What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield,\n  Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field.\n\nSo when they were disposed to go on--for they were not as yet at their\njourney's end--they ate and drank, and departed.\n\nNow I beheld in my dream, that they had not journeyed far, but the river\nand the way for a time parted, at which they were not a little sorry;\nyet they durst not go out of the way. Now the way from the river was\nrough, and their feet tender by reason of their travels; so the souls of\nthe pilgrims were much discouraged because of the way. Wherefore still\nas they went on, they wished for a better way. Now a little before them,\nthere was on the left hand of the road a meadow, and a stile to go over\ninto it, and that meadow is called By-path Meadow. Then said Christian\nto his fellow, If this meadow lieth along by our wayside, let's go over\ninto it. Then he went to the stile to see, and behold a path lay along\nby the way on the other side of the fence. It is according to my wish,\nsaid Christian; here is the easiest going; come, good Hopeful, and let\nus go over.\n\n_Hope._ But, how if this path should lead us out of the way?\n\nThat is not likely, said the other. Look, doth it not go along by the\nwayside? So Hopeful, being persuaded by his fellow, went after him over\nthe stile. When they were gone over, and were got into the path, they\nfound it very easy for their feet; and withal, they looking before them,\nespied a man walking as they did, and his name was Vain Confidence; so\nthey called after him, and asked him whither that way led. He said, To\nthe celestial gate. Look, said Christian, did not I tell you so? by this\nyou may see we are right. So they followed, and he went before them. But\nbehold the night came on, and it grew very dark; so that they that were\nbehind lost the sight of him that went before.\n\nHe therefore that went before--Vain Confidence by name--not seeing the\nway before him, fell into a deep pit, which was on purpose there made,\nby the prince of those grounds, to catch vainglorious fools withal, and\nwas dashed in pieces with his fall.\n\nNow Christian and his fellow heard him fall. So they called to know the\nmatter, but there was none to answer, only they heard a groaning. Then\nsaid Hopeful, Where are we now? Then was his fellow silent, as\nmistrusting that he had led him out of the way; and now it began to\nrain, and thunder and lighten in a most dreadful manner, and the water\nrose amain.\n\nThen Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, Oh that I had kept on my way!\n\n_Chr._ Who could have thought that this path should have led us out of\nthe way?\n\n_Hope._ I was afraid on it at the very first, and therefore gave you\nthat gentle caution. I would have spoken plainer, but that you are older\nthan I.\n\n_Chr._ Good brother, be not offended; I am sorry I have brought thee out\nof the way, and that I have put thee into such imminent danger. Pray, my\nbrother, forgive me; I did not do it of an evil intent.\n\n_Hope._ Be comforted, my brother, for I forgive thee; and believe, too,\nthat this shall be for our good.\n\n_Chr._ I am glad I have with me a merciful brother; but we must not\nstand here; let us try to go back again.\n\n_Hope._ But, good brother, let me go before.\n\n_Chr_: No, if you please, let me go first, that if there be any danger,\nI may be first therein, because by my means we are both gone out of the\nway.\n\nNo, said Hopeful, you shall not go first, for your mind being troubled\nmay lead you out of the way again. Then, for their encouragement, they\nheard the voice of one saying, \"Let thine heart be toward the highway,\neven the way that thou wentest; turn again.\" But by this time the waters\nwere greatly risen, by reason of which the way of going back was very\ndangerous. (Then I thought that it is easier going out of the way when\nwe are in, than going in when we are out.) Yet they adventured to go\nback; but it was so dark, and the flood was so high, that in their going\nback they had like to have drowned nine or ten times.\n\nNeither could they, with all the skill they had, get again to the stile\nthat night. Wherefore at last, lighting under a little shelter, they sat\ndown there until the day brake; but, being weary, they fell asleep. Now\nthere was, not far from the place they lay, a castle, called Doubting\nCastle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair, and it was in his grounds\nthey now were sleeping: wherefore he, getting up in the morning early,\nand walking up and down in his fields, caught Christian and Hopeful\nasleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice he bid them\nawake, and asked them whence they were, and what they did in his\ngrounds. They told him they were pilgrims, and that they had lost their\nway. Then said the Giant, You have this night trespassed on me by\ntrampling in and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along\nwith me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they.\nThey also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a fault.\nThe Giant, therefore, drove them before him, and put them into his\ncastle, in a very dark dungeon, nasty, and stinking to the spirits of\nthese two men. Here, then, they lay from Wednesday morning till Saturday\nnight, without one bit of bread, drop of drink, or light, or any to ask\nhow they did; they were, therefore, here in evil case, and were far from\nfriends and acquaintance. Now in this place Christian had double sorrow,\nbecause it was through his unadvised counsel that they were brought into\nthis distress.\n\nNow Giant Despair had a wife and her name was Diffidence: so when he\nwas gone to bed he told his wife what he had done, to wit, that he had\ntaken a couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon for\ntrespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best to\ndo further with them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came,\nand whither they were bound, and he told her. Then she counselled him,\nthat when he arose in the morning he should beat them without mercy. So\nwhen he arose, he getteth him a grievous crabtree cudgel, and goes down\ninto the dungeon to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if\nthey were dogs, although they never gave him a word of distaste. Then he\nfalls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort that they were\nnot able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor. This done,\nhe withdraws and leaves them there to condole their misery, and to mourn\nunder their distress: so all that day they spent their time in nothing\nbut sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night she, talking with her\nhusband further about them, and understanding that they were yet alive,\ndid advise him to counsel them to make away with themselves. So when\nmorning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner, as before, and\nperceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given them\nthe day before, he told them, that since they were never like to come\nout of that place, their only way would be forthwith to make an end of\nthemselves, either with a knife, halter, or poison: for why, said he,\nshould you choose to live, seeing it is attended with so much\nbitterness? But they desired him to let them go. With that he looked\nugly upon them, and rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them\nhimself, but that he fell into one of his fits--for he sometimes in\nsunshiny weather fell into fits--and lost for a time the use of his\nhands; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before to consider what\nto do. Then did the prisoners consult between themselves, whether it\nwere best to take his counsel or no; and thus they began to discourse.\n\nBrother, said Christian, what shall we do? The life that we now live is\nmiserable. For my part, I know not whether it is best to live thus, or\nto die out of hand. My soul chooseth strangling rather than life, and\nthe grave is more easy for me than this dungeon. Shall we be ruled by\nthe Giant?\n\n_Hope._ Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and death would be far\nmore welcome to me than thus forever to abide; but yet let us consider,\nthe Lord of the country to which we are going hath said, \"Thou shalt do\nno murder,\" no, not to another man's person, much more then are we\nforbidden to take his counsel to kill ourselves. Besides, he that kills\nanother, can but commit murder upon his body; but for one to kill\nhimself, is to kill body and soul at once. And, moreover, my brother,\nthou talkest of ease in the grave, but hast thou forgotten the hell\nwhither for certain the murderers go? for \"no murderer hath eternal\nlife,\" etc. And let us consider again, that all the law is not in the\nhand of Giant Despair; others, so far as I can understand, have been\ntaken by him as well as we, and yet have escaped out of his hands. Who\nknows but that God, who made the world, may cause that Giant Despair may\ndie; or that at some time or other he may forget to lock us in; or but\nhe may, in a short time, have another of his fits before us, and he may\nlose the use of his limbs? And if ever that should come to pass again,\nfor my part, I am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to try my\nutmost to get from under his hand. I was a fool that I did not try to do\nit before. But however, my brother, let us be patient, and endure\nawhile; the time may come that may give us a happy release; but let us\nnot be our own murderers. With these words Hopeful at present did\nmoderate the mind of his brother; so they continued together in the dark\nthat day, in their sad and doleful condition.\n\nWell, toward evening the Giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see\nif his prisoners had taken his counsel. But when he came there he found\nthem alive; and truly alive was all; for now, what for want of bread and\nwater, and by reason of the wounds they received when he beat them, they\ncould do little but breathe. But I say he found them alive; at which he\nfell into a grievous rage, and told them, that seeing they had disobeyed\nhis counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had never been\nborn.\n\nAt this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into a\nswoon; but coming a little to himself again, they renewed their\ndiscourse about the Giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best take\nit or no. Now Christian again seemed for doing it; but Hopeful made his\nsecond reply as followeth:\n\nMy brother, said he, rememberest thou not how valiant thou hast been\nheretofore? Apollyon could not crush thee, nor could all that thou didst\nhear, or see, or feel, in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. What\nhardship, terror, and amazement, hast thou already gone through! and\nart thou now nothing but fears? Thou seest that I am in the dungeon with\nthee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art. Also this Giant hath\nwounded me as well as thee, and also cut off the bread and water from my\nmouth, and with thee I mourn without the light. But let us exercise a\nlittle more patience. Remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair,\nand wast neither afraid of the chain nor cage, nor yet of bloody death;\nwherefore let us--at least to avoid the shame that it becomes not a\nChristian to be found in--bear up with patience as well as we can.\n\nNow night being come again, and the Giant and his wife in bed, she asked\nhim concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel; to\nwhich he replied, They are sturdy rogues; they choose rather to bear all\nhardships than to make away with themselves. Then said she, Take them\ninto the castle-yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls of\nthose that thou hast already despatched, and make them believe, ere a\nweek comes to an end, thou wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done\ntheir fellows before them.\n\nSo when the morning was come, the Giant goes to them again, and takes\nthem into the castle-yard, and shows them as his wife had bidden him.\nThese, said he, were pilgrims, as you are, once, and they trespassed on\nmy grounds as you have done; and when I thought fit I tore them in\npieces, and so within ten days I will do you; go, get you down to your\nden again. And with that he beat them all the way thither. They lay,\ntherefore, all day on Saturday in a lamentable case, as before. Now when\nnight was come, and when Mrs. Diffidence and her husband, the Giant,\nwere got to bed, they began to renew their discourse of their prisoners;\nand withal the old Giant wondered that he could neither by his blows nor\ncounsel bring them to an end. And with that his wife replied, I fear,\nsaid she, that they live in hopes that some will come to relieve them;\nor that they have picklocks about them, by the means of which they hope\nto escape. And sayest thou so, my dear? said the Giant; I will therefore\nsearch them in the morning.\n\nWell, on Saturday, about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in\nprayer till almost break of day.\n\nNow, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half amazed,\nbroke out into this passionate speech: What a fool, quoth he, am I, to\nlie in a stinking dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty! I have a\nkey in my bosom, called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any\nlock in Doubting Castle. Then said Hopeful, That's good news; good\nbrother, pluck it out of thy bosom, and try.\n\nThen Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the\ndungeon door, whose bolt, as he turned the key, gave back, and the door\nflew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then he\nwent to the outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and with his\nkey opened that door also. After that he went to the iron gate, for that\nmust be opened too, but that lock went desperately hard, yet the key did\nopen it. Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape with speed;\nbut that gate as it opened, made such a creaking that it waked Giant\nDespair, who hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to\nfail; for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after\nthem. Then they went on, and came to the King's highway again, and so\nwere safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction.\n\nNow, when they were gone over the stile, they began to contrive with\nthemselves what they should do at that stile, to prevent those that\nshall come after from falling into the hands of Giant Despair. So they\nconsented to erect there a pillar, and to engrave upon the side thereof\nthis sentence: \"Over this stile is the way to Doubting Castle, which is\nkept by Giant Despair, who despiseth the King of the Celestial Country,\nand seeks to destroy, his holy pilgrims.\" Many, therefore, that followed\nafter, read what was written, and escaped the danger. This done, they\nsang as follows:\n\n  Out of the way we went, and then we found\n  What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground;\n  And let them that come after have a care,\n  Lest they for trespassing, his pris'ners are,\n  Whose castle's Doubting, and whose name's Despair.\n\nThey then went till they came to the Delectable Mountains, which\nmountains belong to the Lord of that hill of which we have spoken\nbefore. So they went up to the mountains, to behold the gardens and\norchards, the vineyards and fountains of water; where also they drank\nand washed themselves, and did freely eat of the vineyards. Now there\nwere on the tops of these mountains shepherds feeding their flocks, and\nthey stood by the highway-side. The pilgrims, therefore, went to them,\nand leaning upon their staffs--as is common with weary pilgrims when\nthey stand to talk with any by the way--they asked, Whose Delectable\nMountains are these, and whose be the sheep that feed upon them?\n\n_Shep._ These mountains are Immanuel's Land, and they are within sight\nof his city; and the sheep also are his, and he laid down his life for\nthem.\n\n_Chr._ Is this the way to the Celestial City?\n\n_Shep._ You are just in your way.\n\n_Chr._ How far is it thither?\n\n_Shep._ Too far for any but those who shall get thither, indeed.\n\n_Chr._ Is the way safe, or dangerous?\n\n_Shep._ Safe for those for whom it is to be safe; but transgressors\nshall fall therein.\n\n_Chr._ Is there in this place any relief for pilgrims that are weary and\nfaint in the way?\n\n_Shep._ The Lord of these mountains hath given us a charge not to be\nforgetful to entertain strangers; therefore, the good of the place is\nbefore you.\n\nI saw also in my dream, that when the Shepherds perceived that they\nwere wayfaring men, they also put questions to them, to which they made\nanswer as in other places, as, Whence came you? and, How got you into\nthe way? and, By what means have you persevered therein? for but few of\nthem that begin to come hither, do show their faces on these mountains.\nBut when the Shepherds heard their answers, being pleased therewith,\nthey looked very lovingly upon them, and said, Welcome to the Delectable\nMountains.\n\nThe shepherds, I say, whose names were Knowledge, Experience, Watchful,\nand Sincere, took them by the hand, and had them to their tents, and\nmade them partake of what was ready at present. They said, moreover, We\nwould that you should stay here awhile, to be acquainted with us, and\nyet more to solace yourselves with the good of these Delectable\nMountains. They then told them that they were content to stay. So they\nwent to rest that night, because it was very late.\n\nThen I saw in my dream, that in the morning the Shepherds called up\nChristian and Hopeful to walk with them upon the Mountains. So they went\nforth with them, and walked awhile, having a pleasant prospect on every\nside. Then said the Shepherds one to another, Shall we show these\npilgrims some wonders? So when they had concluded to do it, they had\nthem first to the top of a hill, called Error, which was very steep on\nthe furthest side, and bid them look down to the bottom. So Christian\nand Hopeful looked down, and saw at the bottom several men dashed all\nto pieces by a fall they had from the top. Then said Christian, What\nmeaneth this? The Shepherds answered, Have you not heard of them that\nwere made to err, by hearkening to Hymeneus and Philetus, as concerning\nthe faith of the resurrection of the body? They answered, Yes. Then said\nthe Shepherds, Those that you see dashed in pieces at the bottom of this\nmountain are they; and they have continued to this day unburied, as you\nsee, for an example to others to take heed how they clamber too high, or\nhow they come too near the brink of this mountain.\n\nThen I saw that they had them to the top of another mountain, and the\nname of that is Caution, and bid them look afar off; which, when they\ndid, they perceived, as they thought, several men walking up and down\namong the tombs that were there; and they perceived that the men were\nblind, because they stumbled sometimes upon the tombs, and because they\ncould not get out from among them. Then said Christian, What means this?\n\nThe Shepherds then answered, Did you not see a little below these\nmountains a stile that led into a meadow, on the left hand of this way?\nThey answered, Yes. Then said the Shepherds, From that stile there goes\na path that leads directly to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant\nDespair; and these men, pointing to them among the tombs, came once on\npilgrimage, as you do now, even until they came to that same stile. And\nbecause the right way was rough in that place, they chose to go out of\nit into that meadow, and there were taken by Giant Despair, and cast\ninto Doubting Castle, where, after they had awhile been kept in the\ndungeon, he at last did put out their eyes, and led them among those\ntombs, where he has left them to wander to this very day, that the\nsaying of the wise man might be fulfilled, \"He that wandereth out of the\nway of understanding shall remain in the congregation of the dead.\" Then\nChristian and Hopeful looked one upon another, with tears gushing out,\nbut yet said nothing to the Shepherds.\n\nThen I saw in my dream, that the Shepherds had them to another place in\na bottom, where was a door on the side of a hill; and they opened the\ndoor, and bid them look in. They looked in, therefore, and saw that\nwithin it was very dark and smoky; they also thought that they heard\nthere a rumbling noise, as of fire, and a cry of some tormented, and\nthey smelled the scent of brimstone. Then said Christian, What means\nthis? The Shepherds told them, This is a by-way to hell, a way that\nhypocrites go in at; namely, such as sell their birthright, with Esau;\nsuch as sell their Master, with Judas; such as blaspheme the gospel,\nwith Alexander; and that lie and dissemble, with Ananias and Sapphira\nhis wife.\n\nThen said Hopeful to the Shepherds, I perceive that these had on them,\neven every one, a show of pilgrimage, as we have now; had they not?\n\n_Shep._ Yes, and held it a long time too.\n\n_Hope._ How far might they go on in pilgrimage in their day, since they,\nnotwithstanding, were thus miserably cast away?\n\n_Shep._ Some further, and some not so far as these mountains.\n\nThen said the pilgrims one to another, We have need to cry to the Strong\nfor strength.\n\n_Shep._ Ay, and you will have need to use it, when you have it too.\n\nBy this time the pilgrims had a desire to go forward, and the Shepherds\na desire they should; so they walked together toward the end of the\nmountains. Then said the Shepherds one to another, Let us here show the\npilgrims the gate of the Celestial City, if they have skill to look\nthrough our perspective-glass. The pilgrims then lovingly accepted the\nmotion; so they had them to the top of a high hill, called Clear, and\ngave them the glass to look.\n\nThen they tried to look; but the remembrance of that last thing that the\nShepherds had shown them made their hands shake, by means of which\nimpediment they could not look steadily through the glass; yet they\nthought they saw something like the gate, and also some of the glory of\nthe place. Thus they went away and sang:\n\n  Thus by the Shepherds secrets are reveal'd\n  Which from all other men are kept conceal'd:\n  Come to the Shepherds, then, if you would see\n  Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be.\n\nWhen they were about to depart, one of the Shepherds gave them a note of\nthe way. Another of them bid them beware of the Flatterer. The third bid\nthem take heed that they sleep not upon Enchanted Ground. And the fourth\nbid them God speed.\n\nThey went then till they came at a place where they saw a way put itself\ninto their way, and seeming withal to lie as straight as the way which\nthey should go; and here they knew not which of the two to take, for\nboth seemed straight before them; therefore, here they stood still to\nconsider. And as they were thinking about the way, behold, a man black\nof flesh, but covered with a very light robe, vame to them, and asked\nthem why they stood there. They answered, they were going to the\nCelestial City, but knew not which of these ways to take. Follow me,\nsaid the man; it is thither that I am going. So they followed him in the\nway that but now came into the road, which by degrees turned, and turned\nthem so from the city that they desired to go to, that in a little time\ntheir faces were turned from it; yet they followed him. But by and by,\nbefore they were aware, he led them both within the compass of a net, in\nwhich they were both so entangled that they knew not what to do; and\nwith that the white robe fell off the black man's back. Then they saw\nwhere they were. Wherefore there they lay crying some time, for they\ncould not get themselves out.\n\nThen said Christian to his fellow, Now do I see myself in an error. Did\nnot the Shepherds bid us beware of the Flatterer? As is the saying of\nthe wise man, so we have found it this day: \"A man that flattereth his\nneighbor spreadeth a net for his feet.\"\n\n_Hope._ They also gave us a note of directions about the way, for our\nmore sure finding thereof; but therein we have also forgotten to read,\nand not kept ourselves from the paths of the destroyer. Here David was\nwiser than we, for, saith he, \"Concerning the works of men, by the word\nof thy lips I have kept me from the paths of the destroyer.\" Thus they\nlay bewailing themselves in the net. At last they espied a Shining One\ncoming toward them with a whip of small cords in his hand. When he was\ncome to the place where they were, he asked them whence they came, and\nwhat they did there. They told him that they were poor pilgrims going to\nZion, but were led out of their way by a black man clothed in white, who\nbid us, said they, follow him, for he was going thither too. Then said\nhe with a whip, It Flatterer, a false apostle, that hath transformed\nhimself into an angel of light. So he rent the net, and let the men out.\nThen said he to them, Follow me, that I may set you in your way again.\nSo he led them back to the way which they had left to follow the\nFlatterer. Then he asked them, saying, Where did you lie the last night?\nThey said, With the Shepherds upon the Delectable Mountains. He asked\nthem if they had not a note of directions for the way. They answered,\nYes. But did you not, said he, when you were at a stand, pluck out and\nread your note? They answered, No. He asked them, Why? They said they\nforgot. He asked, moreover, if the Shepherds did not bid them beware of\nthe Flatterer. They answered, Yes; but we did not imagine, said they,\nthis fine-spoken man had been he.\n\nThen I saw in my dream, that he commanded them to lie down; which when\nthey did, he chastised them sore, to teach them the good way wherein\nthey should walk; and as he chastised them, he said, \"As many as I love\nI rebuke and chasten; be zealous, therefore, and repent.\" This done, he\nbids them go on their way, and take good heed to the other directions of\nthe Shepherds. So they thanked him for all his kindness, and went softly\nalong the right way, singing:\n\n  Come hither, you that walk along the way,\n  See how the pilgrims fare that go astray:\n  They catched are in an entangled net,\n  'Cause they good counsel lightly did forget.\n  'Tis true they rescued were; but yet, you see,\n  They're scourg'd to boot: let this your caution be.\n\nNow, after awhile, they perceived afar off one coming softly and alone,\nall along the highway to meet them. Then said Christian to his fellow,\nYonder is a man with his back toward Zion, and he is coming to meet us.\n\n_Hope._ I see him; let us take heed to ourselves now lest he should\nprove a flatterer also. So he drew nearer and nearer, and at last came\nup to them. His name was Atheist, and he asked them whither they were\ngoing.\n\n_Chr._ We are going to the Mount Zion.\n\nThen Atheist fell into a very great laughter.\n\n_Chr._ What's the meaning of your laughter?\n\n_Atheist._ I laugh to see what ignorant persons you are, to take upon\nyou so tedious a journey, and yet are like to have nothing but your\ntravel for your pains.\n\n_Chr._ Why man, do you think we shall not be received?\n\n_Atheist._ Received! There is no such place as you dream of in all this\nworld.\n\n_Chr._ But there is in the world to come.\n\n_Atheist._ When I was at home in my own country, I heard as you now\naffirm, and from that hearing went out to see, and have been seeking\nthis city these twenty years, but find no more of it than I did the\nfirst day I set out.\n\n_Chr._ We have both heard, and believe, that there is such a place to be\nfound.\n\n_Atheist._ Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not come thus far to\nseek; but finding none--and yet I should had there been such a place to\nbe found, for I have gone to seek it further than you--I am going back\nagain, and will seek to refresh myself with the things that I then cast\naway for hopes of that which I now see is not.\n\nThen said Christian to Hopeful his companion, Is it true which this man\nhath said?\n\n_Hope._ Take heed, he is one of the flatterers. Remember what it hath\ncost us once already for hearkening to such kind fellows. What? no Mount\nZion? Did we not see from the Delectable Mountains the gate of the city?\nAlso, are we not now to walk by faith? Let us go on, lest the man with\nthe whip overtake us again. You should have taught me that lesson, which\nI will round you in the ears withal: \"Cease, my son, to hear the\ninstruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge.\" I say, my\nbrother, cease to hear him, and let us believe to the saving of the\nsoul.\n\n_Chr._ My brother, I did not put the question to thee, for that I\ndoubted of the truth of our belief myself, but to prove thee, and to\nfetch from thee a fruit of the honesty of thy heart. As for this man, I\nknow that he is blinded by the god of this world. Let thee and me go on,\nknowing that we have belief of the truth, and no lie is of the truth.\n\n_Hope._ Now do I rejoice in hope of the glory of God. So they turned\naway from the man, and he, laughing at them, went his way.\n\nI then saw in my dream that they went on until they came into a certain\ncountry, whose air naturally tended to make one drowsy, if he came a\nstranger into it. And here Hopeful began to be very dull, and heavy to\nsleep; wherefore he said unto Christian: I do now begin to grow so\ndrowsy that I can scarcely hold open mine eyes; let us lie down and take\none nap.\n\nBy no means, said the other, lest sleeping we never awake more.\n\n_Hope._ Why, my brother? sleep is sweet to the laboring man; we may be\nrefreshed if we take a nap.\n\n_Chr._ Do you not remember that one of the Shepherds bid us to beware of\nthe Enchanted Ground? He meant by that, that we should beware of\nsleeping: wherefore, \"let us not sleep as others do, but let us watch\nand be sober.\"\n\n_Hope._ I acknowledge myself in a fault; and had I been here alone, I\nhad by sleeping run the danger of death. I see it is true that the wise\nman saith, \"Two are better than one.\" Hitherto hath thy company been my\nmercy; and thou shalt have a good reward for thy labor.\n\nNow then, said Christian, to prevent drowsiness in this place, let us\nfall into good discourse.\n\nWith all my heart, said the other.\n\nNow I saw in my dream, that the pilgrims were got over the Enchanted\nGround, and entering into the country of Beulah; whose air was very\nsweet and pleasant; the way lying directly through it, they solaced\nthemselves there for a season. Yea, here they heard continually the\nsinging of birds, and saw every day the flowers appear in the earth, and\nheard the voice of the turtle in the land. In this country the sun\nshineth night and day; wherefore this was beyond the Valley of the\nShadow of Death, and also out of the reach of Giant Despair; neither\ncould they from this place so much as see Doubting Castle. Here they\nwere within sight of the city they were going to; also here met them\nsome of the inhabitants thereof; for in this land the Shining Ones\ncommonly walked, because it was upon the borders of heaven. In this land\nalso the contract between the Bride and the Bridegroom was renewed; yea,\nhere, \"as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so doth their God\nrejoice over them.\" Here they had no want of corn and wine; for in this\nplace they met with abundance of what they had sought for in all their\npilgrimages. Here they heard voices from out of the city, loud voices,\nsaying, \"Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold thy salvation cometh!\nBehold, His reward is with him!\" Here all the inhabitants of the\ncountry called them \"the holy people, the redeemed of the Lord, sought\nout,\" etc.\n\nNow, as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts\nmore remote from the kingdom to which they are bound; and drawing near\nto the city, they had yet a more perfect view thereof. It was builded of\npearls and precious stones, also the streets thereof were paved with\ngold; so that, by reason of the natural glory of the city, and the\nreflection of the sunbeams upon it, Christian with desire fell sick;\nHopeful also had a fit or two of the same disease: wherefore here they\nlay by it awhile, crying out because of their pangs, \"If you see my\nBeloved, tell him that I am sick of love.\"\n\nBut, being a little strengthened, and better able to bear their\nsickness, they walked on their way, and came yet nearer and nearer,\nwhere were orchards, vineyards, and gardens, and their gates opened into\nthe highway. Now, as they came up to these places behold the gardener\nstood in the way; to whom the pilgrims said, Whose goodly vineyards and\ngardens are these? He answered, They are the King's, and are planted\nhere for his own delights, and also for the solace of pilgrims. So the\ngardener had them into the vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves\nwith the dainties. He also showed them there the King's walks and the\narbors where he delighteth to be: and here they tarried and slept.\n\nNow, I beheld in my dream that they talked more in their sleep at this\ntime than ever they did in all their journey, and being in a muse\nthereabout, the gardener said even to me, Wherefore musest thou at the\nmatter: it is the nature of the fruit of the grapes of these vineyards\n\"to go down so sweetly as to cause the lips of them that are asleep to\nspeak.\"\n\nSo I saw that when they awoke they addressed themselves to go up to the\ncity. But, as I said, the reflection of the sun upon the city--for the\ncity was pure gold--was so extremely glorious that they could not as yet\nwith open face behold it, but through an instrument made for that\npurpose. So I saw, that as they went on, there met them two men in\nraiment that shone like gold, also their faces shone as the light.\n\nThese men asked the pilgrims whence they came; and they told them. They\nalso asked them where they had lodged, what difficulties and dangers,\nwhat comforts and pleasures, they had met in the way; and they told\nthem. Then said the men that met them, You have but two difficulties\nmore to meet with, and then you are in the city.\n\nChristian then and his companion asked the men to go along with them: so\nthey told them that they would: But, said they, you must obtain it by\nyour own faith. So I saw in my dream that they went on together till\nthey came in sight of the gate.\n\nNow I further saw, that between them and the gate was a river: but there\nwas no bridge to go over; and the river was very deep. At the sight\ntherefore of this river the pilgrims were much stunned; but the men that\nwent with them said, You must go through or you cannot come at the\ngate.\n\nThe pilgrims then began to inquire if there was no other way to the\ngate. To which they answered, Yes; but there hath not any, save two, to\nwit, Enoch and Elijah, been permitted to tread that path since the\nfoundation of the world, nor shall until the last trumpet shall sound.\nThe pilgrims then, especially Christian, began to despond in their\nminds, and looked this way and that, but no way could be found by them\nby which they might escape the river. Then they asked the men if the\nwaters were all of a depth. They said, No; yet they could not help them\nin that case; for, said they, you shall find it deeper or shallower as\nyou believe in the King of the place.\n\nThey then addressed themselves to the water, and entering, Christian\nbegan to sink, and crying out to his good friend Hopeful, he said, I\nsink in deep waters; the billows go over my head, all his waves go over\nme.\n\nThen said the other, Be of good cheer, my brother: I feel the bottom,\nand it is good. Then said Christian, Ah, my friend, \"the sorrows of\ndeath have compassed me about,\" I shall not see the land that flows with\nmilk and honey. And with that a great darkness and horror fell upon\nChristian, so that he could not see before him. Also here he in a great\nmeasure lost his senses, so that he could neither remember nor orderly\ntalk of any of those sweet refreshments that he had met with in the way\nof his pilgrimage. But all the words that he spoke still tended to\ndiscover that he had horror of mind, and heart-fears that he should die\nin that river, and never obtain entrance in at the gate. Here also, as\nthey that stood by perceived, he was much in the troublesome thoughts of\nthe sins that he had committed, both since and before he began to be a\npilgrim. It was also observed, that he was troubled with apparitions of\nhobgoblins and evil spirits; for ever and anon he would intimate so much\nby words.\n\nHopeful therefore here had much ado to keep his brother's head above\nwater; yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and then, ere awhile,\nhe would rise up again half dead. Hopeful also would endeavor to comfort\nhim, saying, Brother, I see the gate, and men standing by to receive us;\nbut Christian would answer, It is you, it is you they wait for; you have\nbeen hopeful ever since I knew you. And so have you, said he to\nChristian. Ah, brother! said he, surely if I was right, he would now\narise to help me; but for my sins he hath brought me into the snare, and\nhath left me. Then said Hopeful, My brother, you have quite forgot the\ntext where it is said of the wicked, \"There are no bands in their death,\nbut their strength is firm; they are not troubled as other men, neither\nare they plagued like other men.\" These troubles and distresses that you\ngo through in these waters, are no sign that God hath forsaken you; but\nare sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which heretofore\nyou have received of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses.\n\nThen I saw in my dream, that Christian was in a muse awhile. To whom\nalso Hopeful added these words, Be of good cheer, Jesus Christ maketh\nthee whole. And with that Christian brake out with a loud voice, Oh, I\nsee him again; and he tells me \"When thou passest through the waters, I\nshall be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow\nthee.\" Then they both took courage, and the enemy was, after that, as\nstill as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian, therefore,\npresently found ground to stand upon, and so it followed that the rest\nof the river was but shallow. Thus they got over.\n\nNow upon the bank of the river, on the other side, they saw the two\nshining men again, who there waited for them. Wherefore being come out\nof the river, they saluted them, saying, We are ministering spirits,\nsent forth to minister for those that shall be heirs of salvation. Thus\nthey went along toward the gate.\n\nNow you must note, that the city stood upon a mighty hill; but the\npilgrims went up that hill with ease, because they had these two men to\nlead them up by the arms: they had likewise left their mortal garments\nbehind them in the river; for though they went in with them, they came\nout without them. They therefore went up here with much agility and\nspeed, though the foundation upon which the city was framed was higher\nthan the clouds; they therefore went up through the regions of the air,\nsweetly talking as they went, being comforted because they safely got\nover the river, and had such glorious companions to attend them.\n\nThe talk that they had with the Shining Ones was about the glory of the\nplace; who told them that the beauty and glory of it was inexpressible.\nThere, said they, is \"the Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the\ninnumerable company of angels, and the spirits of just men made\nperfect.\" You are going now, said they, to the paradise of God, where\nyou shall see the tree of life, and eat of the never fading fruits\nthereof: and when you come there you shall have white robes given you,\nand your walk and talk shall be every day with the King, even all the\ndays of eternity. There you shall not see again such things as you saw\nwhen you were in the lower region upon the earth; to wit, sorrow,\nsickness, affliction, and death; \"For the former things are passed\naway.\" You are going now to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, and to the\nprophets, men that God hath taken away from the evil to come, and that\nare now \"resting upon their beds, each one walking in his\nrighteousness.\" The men then asked, What must we do in the holy place?\nTo whom it was answered, You must there receive the comfort of all your\ntoil, and have joy for all your sorrow; you must reap what you have\nsown, even the fruit of all your prayers, and tears, and sufferings for\nthe King by the way. In that place you must wear crowns of gold, and\nenjoy the perpetual sight and vision of the Holy One; for \"there you\nshall see him as he is.\" There also you shall serve him continually with\npraise, with shouting and thanksgiving, whom you desired to serve in the\nworld, though with much difficulty, because of the infirmity of your\nflesh. There your eyes shall be delighted with seeing, and your ears\nwith hearing the pleasant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall enjoy\nyour friends again that are gone hither before you; and there you shall\nwith joy receive even every one that follows into the holy place after\nyou. There also you shall be clothed with glory and majesty, and put in\nan equipage fit to ride out with the King of Glory. When he shall come\nwith sound of trumpet in the clouds, as upon the wings of the wind, you\nshall come with him; and when he shall sit upon the throne of judgment,\nyou shall sit by him; yea, and when he shall pass sentence upon all the\nworkers of iniquity, let them be angels or men, you also shall have a\nvoice in that judgment, because they were his and your enemies. Also,\nwhen he shall again return to the city, you shall go too with sound of\ntrumpet, and be ever with him.\n\nNow, while they were thus drawing toward the gate, behold a company of\nthe heavenly host came out to meet them; to whom it was said by the\nother two Shining Ones, These are the men that have loved our Lord, when\nthey were in the world, and that have left all for his holy name; and he\nhas sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far on their\ndesired journey, that they may go in and look their Redeemer in the face\nwith joy. Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, \"Blessed\nare they that are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb.\" There came\nout also at this time to meet them several of the King's trumpeters,\nclothed in white and shining raiment, who with melodious voices and\nloud, made even the heavens to echo with their sound. These trumpeters\nsaluted Christian and his fellow with ten thousand welcomes from the\nworld; and this they did with shouting and sound of trumpet.\n\nThis done, they compassed them round on every side; some went before,\nsome behind, and some on the right hand, and some on the left--as it\nwere to guard them through the upper regions--continually sounding as\nthey went, with melodious noise, in notes on high; so that the very\nsight was to them that could behold it as if heaven itself was come down\nto meet them. Thus therefore they walked on together; and, as they\nwalked, ever and anon these trumpeters, even with joyful sound, would,\nby mixing their music with looks and gestures, still signify to\nChristian, and his brother, how welcome they were into their company,\nand with what gladness they came to meet them. And now were these two\nmen, as it were, in heaven, before they came at it, being swallowed up\nwith the sight of angels, and with hearing of their melodious notes.\nHere also they had the city itself in view; and thought they heard all\nthe bells therein to ring, to welcome them thereto. But, above all, the\nwarm and joyful thoughts that they had about their own dwelling there\nwith such company, and that for ever and ever, oh, by what tongue or pen\ncan their glorious joy be expressed!--Thus they came up to the gate.\n\nNow when they were come up to the gate, there was written over it in\nletters of gold, \"BLESSED ARE THEY THAT DO HIS COMMANDMENTS, THAT THEY\nMAY HAVE RIGHT TO THE TREE OF LIFE, AND MAY ENTER IN THROUGH THE GATES\nINTO THE CITY.\"\n\nThen I saw in my dream that the shining men bid them call at the gate:\nthe which when they did, some from above looked over the gate, to wit,\nEnoch, Moses, and Elijah, etc., to whom it was said, These pilgrims are\ncome from the City of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the\nKing of this place: and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each man his\ncertificate, which they had received in the beginning; those, therefore,\nwere carried in to the King, who, when he had read them, said, Where are\nthe men? To whom it was answered, They are standing without the gate.\nThe King then commanded to open the gate, \"That the righteous nation,\"\nsaid he, \"that keepeth truth may enter in.\"\n\nNow I saw in my dream that these two men went in at the gate; and lo! as\nthey entered, they were transfigured; and they had raiment put on that\nshone like gold. There were also that met them with harps and crowns,\nand gave them to them: the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in\ntoken of honor. Then I heard in my dream that all the bells in the city\nrang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, \"ENTER YE INTO THE\nJOY OF OUR LORD.\" I also heard the men themselves, that they sang with a\nloud voice, saying, \"BLESSING, AND HONOR, AND GLORY, AND POWER, BE UNTO\nHIM THAT SITTETH UPON THE THRONE, AND UNTO THE LAMB, FOR EVER AND EVER.\"\n\nNow, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after\nthem, and behold the city shone like the sun; the streets also were\npaved with gold; and in them walked many men, with crowns on their\nheads, palms in their hands, and golden harps, to sing praises withal.\n\nThey were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another\nwithout intermission, saying, \"Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord.\" And after\nthat they shut up the gates: which, when I had seen, I wished myself\namong them.\n\nNow while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look\nback, and saw Ignorance come up to the river side; but he soon got over,\nand that without half the difficulty which the other two men met with.\nFor it happened that there was then in the place one Vain-hope, a\nferry-man, that with his boat helped him over; so he, as the others I\nsaw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate; only he came alone;\nneither did any meet him with the least encouragement. When he was come\nup to the gate, he looked up to the writing that was above, and then\nbegan to knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly\nadministered to him; but he was asked by the men that looked over the\ntop of the gate, Whence came you? and what would you have? He answered,\nI have ate and drank in the presence of the King, and he has taught in\nour streets. Then they asked him for his certificate, that they might go\nin and show it to the King: so he fumbled in his bosom for one, and\nfound none. Then said they, Have you none? but the man answered never a\nword. So they told the King, but he would not come down to see him, but\ncommanded the two Shining Ones, that conducted Christian and Hopeful to\nthe city, to go out, and take Ignorance, and bind him, hand and foot,\nand have him away. Then they took him up, and carried him through the\nair, to the door that I saw in the side of the hill, and put him in\nthere. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gate of\nheaven, as well as from the City of Destruction. So I awoke, and behold\nit was a dream.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PILGRIM\n\n\nWho would true valor see\n  Let him come hither!\nOne here will constant be,\n  Come wind, come weather;\nThere's no discouragement\n  Shall make him once relent\nHis first-avow'd intent\n  To be a Pilgrim.\n\nWhoso beset him round\n  With dismal stories,\nDo but themselves confound;\n  His strength the more is.\nNo lion can him fright;\n  He'll with a giant fight;\nBut he will have a right\n  To be a Pilgrim.\n\nNor enemy, nor fiend,\n  Can daunt his spirit;\nHe knows he at the end\n  Shall Life inherit:--\nThen, fancies, fly away;\n  He'll not fear what men say;\nHe'll labor, night and day,\n  To be a Pilgrim.\n\n_--J. Bunyan_\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREAT STONE FACE\n\nBy Nathaniel Hawthorne\n\n\nOne afternoon, when the sun was going down, a mother and her little boy\nsat at the door of their cottage, talking about the Great Stone Face.\nThey had but to lift their eyes, and there it was plainly to be seen,\nthough miles away, with the sunshine brightening all its features.\n\nAnd what was the Great Stone Face?\n\nEmbosomed among a family of lofty mountains, there was a valley so\nspacious that it contained many thousand inhabitants. Some of these good\npeople dwelt in log huts, with the black forest all around them, on the\nsteep and difficult hillsides. Others had their homes in comfortable\nfarmhouses, and cultivated the rich soil on the gentle slopes or level\nsurfaces of the valley. Others, again, were congregated into populous\nvillages, where some wild, highland rivulet, tumbling down from its\nbirthplace in the upper mountain region, had been caught and tamed by\nhuman cunning, and compelled to turn the machinery of cotton factories.\nThe inhabitants of this valley, in short, were numerous, and of many\nmodes of life. But all of them, grown people and children, had a kind of\nfamiliarity with the Great Stone Face, although some possessed the gift\nof distinguishing this grand natural phenomenon more perfectly than many\nof their neighbors.\n\nThe Great Stone Face, then, was a work of Nature in her mood of majestic\nplayfulness, formed on the perpendicular side of a mountain by some\nimmense rocks, which had been thrown together in such a position as,\nwhen viewed at a proper distance, precisely to resemble the features of\nthe human countenance. It seemed as if an enormous giant, or a Titan,\nhad sculptured his own likeness on the precipice. There was the broad\narch of the forehead, a hundred feet in height; the nose, with its long\nbridge; and the vast lips, which, if they could have spoken, would have\nrolled their thunder accents from one end of the valley to the other.\nTrue it is, that if the spectator approached too near, he lost the\noutline of the gigantic visage, and could discern only a heap of\nponderous and gigantic rocks, piled in chaotic ruin one upon another.\nRetracing his steps, however, the wondrous features would again be seen;\nand the further he withdrew from them, the more like a human face, with\nall its original divinity intact, did they appear; until, as it grew dim\nin the distance, with the clouds and glorified vapor of the mountains\nclustering about it, the Great Stone Face seemed positively to be alive.\n\nIt was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood with\nthe Great Stone Face before their eyes, for all the features were noble,\nand the expression was at once grand and sweet, as if it were the glow\nof a vast, warm heart, that embraced all mankind in its affections, and\nhad room for more. It was an education only to look at it. According to\nthe belief of many people, the valley owed much of its fertility to this\nbenign aspect that was continually beaming over it, illuminating the\nclouds, and infusing its tenderness into the sunshine.\n\nAs we began with saying, a mother and her little boy sat at their\ncottage-door, gazing at the Great Stone Face, and talking about it. The\nchild's name was Ernest.\n\n\"Mother,\" said he, while the Titanic visage smiled on him, \"I wish that\nit could speak, for it looks so very kindly that its voice must needs be\npleasant. If I were to see a man with such a face, I should love him\ndearly.\"\n\n\"If an old prophecy should come to pass,\" answered his mother, \"we may\nsee a man, some time or other, with exactly such a face as that.\"\n\n\"What prophecy do you mean, dear mother?\" eagerly inquired Ernest. \"Pray\ntell me all about it!\"\n\nSo his mother told him a story that her own mother had told to her, when\nshe herself was younger than little Ernest; a story, not of things that\nwere past, but of what was yet to come; a story, nevertheless, so very\nold, that even the Indians, who formerly inhabited this valley, had\nheard it from their forefathers, to whom, as they affirmed, it had been\nmurmured by the mountain streams, and whispered by the wind among the\ntree-tops. The purport was, that, at some future day, a child should be\nborn hereabouts, who was destined to become the greatest and noblest\npersonage of his time, and whose countenance, in manhood, should bear an\nexact resemblance to the Great Stone Face. Not a few old-fashioned\npeople, and young ones likewise, in the ardor of their hopes, still\ncherished an enduring faith in this old prophecy. But others, who had\nseen more of the world, had watched and waited till they were weary, and\nhad beheld no man with such a face, nor any man that proved to be much\ngreater or nobler than his neighbors, concluded it to be nothing but an\nidle tale. At all events, the great man of the prophecy had not yet\nappeared.\n\n\"O mother, dear mother!\" cried Ernest, clapping his hands above his\nhead, \"I do hope that I shall live to see him!\"\n\nHis mother was an affectionate and thoughtful woman, and felt that it\nwas wisest not to discourage the generous hopes of her little boy. So\nshe only said to him, \"Perhaps you may.\"\n\nAnd Ernest never forgot the story that his mother told him. It was\nalways in his mind, whenever he looked upon the Great Stone Face. He\nspent his childhood in the log-cottage where he was born, and was\ndutiful to his mother, and helpful to her in many things, assisting her\nmuch with his little hands, and more with his loving heart. In this\nmanner, from a happy yet often pensive child, he grew up to be a mild,\nquiet, unobtrusive boy, and sun-browned with labor in the fields, but\nwith more intelligence brightening his aspect than is seen in many lads\nwho have been taught at famous schools. Yet Ernest had had no teacher,\nsave only that the Great Stone Face became one to him. When the toil of\nthe day was over, he would gaze at it for hours, until he began to\nimagine that those vast features recognized him, and gave him a smile of\nkindness and encouragement, responsive to his own look of veneration. We\nmust not take upon us to affirm that this was a mistake, although the\nFace may have looked no more kindly at Ernest than at all the world\nbesides. But the secret was, that the boy's tender and confiding\nsimplicity discerned what other people could not see; and thus the love,\nwhich was meant for all, became his peculiar portion.\n\nAbout this time, there went a rumor throughout the valley, that the\ngreat man, foretold from ages ago, who was to bear a resemblance to the\nGreat Stone Face, had appeared at last. It seems that, many years\nbefore, a young man had migrated from the valley and settled at a\ndistant seaport, where, after getting together a little money, he had\nset up as a shopkeeper. His name--but I could never learn whether it was\nhis real one, or a nickname that had grown out of his habits and success\nin life--was Gathergold. Being shrewd and active, and endowed by\nProvidence with that inscrutable faculty which develops itself in what\nthe world calls luck, he became an exceedingly rich merchant, and owner\nof a whole fleet of bulky-bottomed ships. All the countries of the globe\nappeared to join hands for the mere purpose of adding heap after heap\nto the mountainous accumulation of this one man's wealth. The cold\nregions of the north, almost within the gloom and shadow of the Arctic\nCircle, sent him their tribute in the shape of furs; hot Africa sifted\nfor him the golden sands of her rivers, and gathered up the ivory tusks\nof her great elephants out of the forests; the East came bringing him\nthe rich shawls, and spices, and teas, and the effulgence of diamonds,\nand the gleaming purity of large pearls. The ocean, not to be behindhand\nwith the earth, yielded up her mighty whales, that Mr. Gathergold might\nsell their oil, and make a profit on it. Be the original commodity what\nit might, it was gold within his grasp. It might be said of him, as of\nMidas in the fable, that whatever he touched with his finger immediately\nglistened, and grew yellow, and was changed at once into sterling metal,\nor, which suited him still better, into piles of coin. And, when Mr.\nGathergold had become so very rich that it would have taken him a\nhundred years only to count his wealth, he bethought himself of his\nnative valley, and resolved to go back thither, and end his days where\nhe was born. With this purpose in view, he sent a skilful architect to\nbuild him such a palace as should be fit for a man of his vast wealth to\nlive in.\n\nAs I have said above, it had already been rumored in the valley that Mr.\nGathergold had turned out to be the prophetic personage so long and\nvainly looked for, and that his visage was the perfect and undeniable\nsimilitude of the Great Stone Face. People were the more ready to\nbelieve that this must needs be the fact, when they beheld the splendid\nedifice that rose, as if by enchantment, on the site of his father's old\nweather-beaten farmhouse. The exterior was of marble, so dazzingly white\nthat it seemed as though the whole structure might melt away in the\nsunshine, like those humbler ones which Mr. Gathergold, in his young\nplay-days, before his fingers were gifted with the touch of\ntransmutation, had been accustomed to build of snow. It had a richly\nornamented portico, supported by tall pillars, beneath which was a lofty\ndoor, studded with silver knobs, and made of a kind of variegated wood\nthat had been brought from beyond the sea. The windows, from the floor\nto the ceiling of each stately apartment, were composed, respectively,\nof but one enormous pane of glass, so transparently pure that it was\nsaid to be a finer medium than even the vacant atmosphere. Hardly\nanybody had been permitted to see the interior of this palace; but it\nwas reported, and with good semblance of truth, to be far more gorgeous\nthan the outside, insomuch that whatever was iron or brass in other\nhouses was silver or gold in this; and Mr. Gathergold's bedchamber,\nespecially, made such a glittering appearance that no ordinary man would\nhave been able to close his eyes there. But, on the other hand, Mr.\nGathergold was now so inured to wealth, that perhaps he could not have\nclosed his eyes unless where the gleam of it was certain to find its way\nbeneath his eyelids.\n\nIn due time, the mansion was finished; next came the upholsterers, with\nmagnificent furniture; then, a whole troop of black and white servants,\nthe harbingers of Mr. Gathergold, who, in his own majestic person, was\nexpected to arrive at sunset. Our friend Ernest, meanwhile, had been\ndeeply stirred by the idea that the great man, the noble man, the man of\nprophecy, after so many ages of delay, was at length to be made manifest\nto his native valley. He knew, boy as he was, that there were a thousand\nways in which Mr. Gathergold, with his vast wealth, might transform\nhimself into an angel of beneficence, and assume a control over human\naffairs as wide and benignant as the smile of the Great Stone Face. Full\nof faith and hope, Ernest doubted not that what the people said was\ntrue, and that now he was to behold the living likeness of those\nwondrous features on the mountain side. While the boy was still gazing\nup the valley, and fancying, as he always did, that the Great Stone Face\nreturned his gaze and looked kindly at him, the rumbling of wheels was\nheard, approaching swiftly along the winding road.\n\n\"Here he comes!\" cried a group of people who were assembled to witness\nthe arrival. \"Here comes the great Mr. Gathergold!\"\n\nA carriage, drawn by four horses, dashed round the turn of the road.\nWithin it, thrust partly out of the window, appeared the physiognomy of\na little old man, with a skin as yellow as if his own Midas-hand had\ntransmuted it. He had a low forehead, small, sharp eyes, puckered about\nwith innumerable wrinkles, and very thin lips, which he made still\nthinner by pressing them forcibly together.\n\n\"The very image of the Great Stone Face!\" shouted the people. \"Sure\nenough, the old prophecy is true; and here we have the great man come,\nat last!\"\n\nAnd, what greatly perplexed Ernest, they seemed actually to believe that\nhere was the likeness which they spoke of. By the roadside there chanced\nto be an old beggar-woman and two little beggar-children, stragglers\nfrom some far-off region, who, as the carriage rolled onward, held out\ntheir hands and lifted up their doleful voices, most piteously\nbeseeching charity. A yellow claw--the very same that had clawed\ntogether so much wealth--poked itself out of the coach window, and\ndropped some copper coins upon the ground; so that, though the great\nman's name seems to have been Gathergold, he might just as suitably have\nbeen nicknamed Scattercopper. Still, nevertheless, with an earnest\nshout, and evidently with as much good faith as ever, the people\nbellowed--\n\n\"He is the very image of the Great Stone Face!\"\n\nBut Ernest turned sadly from the wrinkled shrewdness of that sordid\nvisage, and gazed up the valley, where, amid a gathering mist, gilded by\nthe last sunbeams, he could still distinguish those glorious features\nwhich had impressed themselves into his soul. Their aspect cheered him.\nWhat did the benign lips seem to say?\n\n\"He will come! Fear not, Ernest; the man will come!\"\n\nThe years went on, and Ernest ceased to be a boy. He had grown to be a\nyoung man now. He attracted little notice from the other inhabitants of\nthe valley; for they saw nothing remarkable in his way of life, save\nthat, when the labor of the day was over, he still loved to go apart and\ngaze and meditate upon the Great Stone Face. According to their idea of\nthe matter, it was a folly, indeed, but pardonable, inasmuch as Ernest\nwas industrious, kind, and neighborly, and neglected no duty for the\nsake of indulging this idle habit. They knew not that the Great Stone\nFace had become a teacher to him, and that the sentiment which was\nexpressed in it would enlarge the young man's heart, and fill it with\nwider and deeper sympathies than other hearts. They knew not that thence\nwould come a better wisdom than could be learned from books, and a\nbetter life than could be molded on the defaced example of other human\nlives. Neither did Ernest know that the thoughts and affections which\ncame to him so naturally, in the fields and at the fireside, and\nwherever he communed with himself, were of a higher tone than those\nwhich all men shared with him. A simple soul--simple as when his mother\nfirst taught him the old prophecy--he beheld the marvellous features\nbeaming adown the valley, and still wondered that their human\ncounterpart was so long in making his appearance.\n\nBy this time poor Mr. Gathergold was dead and buried; and the oddest\npart of the matter was, that his wealth, which was the body and spirit\nof his existence, had disappeared before his death, leaving nothing of\nhim but a living skeleton, covered over with a wrinkled, yellow skin.\nSince the melting away of his gold, it had been very generally conceded\nthat there was no such striking resemblance, after all, between the\nignoble features of the ruined merchant and that majestic face upon the\nmountain-side. So the people ceased to honor him during his lifetime,\nand quietly consigned him to forgetfulness after his decease. Once in a\nwhile, it is true, his memory was brought up in connection with the\nmagnificent palace which he had built, and which had long ago been\nturned into a hotel for the accommodation of strangers, multitudes of\nwhom came, every summer, to visit that famous natural curiosity, the\nGreat Stone Face. Thus, Mr, Gathergold being discredited and thrown into\nthe shade, the man of prophecy was yet to come.\n\nIt so happened that a native-born son of the valley, many years before,\nhad enlisted as a soldier, and, after a great deal of hard fighting, had\nnow become an illustrious commander. Whatever he may be called in\nhistory, he was known in camps and on the battle-field under the\nnickname of Old Blood-and-Thunder. This war-worn veteran, being now\ninfirm with age and wounds, and weary of the turmoil of a military life,\nand of the roll of the drum and the clangor of the trumpet, that had so\nlong been ringing in his ears, had lately signified a purpose of\nreturning to his native valley, hoping to find repose where he\nremembered to have left it. The inhabitants, his old neighbors and their\ngrown-up children, were resolved to welcome the renowned warrior with a\nsalute of cannon and a public dinner; and all the more enthusiastically,\nit being affirmed that now, at last, the likeness of the Great Stone\nFace had actually appeared. An aid-de-camp of Old Blood-and-Thunder,\ntravelling through the valley, was said to have been struck with the\nresemblance. Moreover the schoolmates and early acquaintances of the\ngeneral were ready to testify, on oath, that, to the best of their\nrecollection, the aforesaid general had been exceedingly like the\nmajestic image, even when a boy, only that the idea had never occurred\nto them at that period. Great, therefore, was the excitement throughout\nthe valley; and many people, who had never once thought of glancing at\nthe Great Stone Face for years before, now spent their time in gazing at\nit, for the sake of knowing exactly how General Blood-and-Thunder\nlooked.\n\nOn the day of the great festival, Ernest, with all the other people of\nthe valley, left their work, and proceeded to the spot where the sylvan\nbanquet was prepared. As he approached, the loud voice of the Rev. Dr.\nBattleblast was heard, beseeching a blessing on the good things set\nbefore them, and on the distinguished friend of peace in whose honor\nthey were assembled. The tables were arranged in a cleared space of the\nwoods, shut in by the surrounding trees, except where a vista opened\neastward, and afforded a distant view of the Great Stone Face. Over the\ngeneral's chair, which was a relic from the home of Washington, there\nwas an arch of verdant boughs, with the laurel profusely intermixed, and\nsurmounted by his country's banner, beneath which he had won his\nvictories. Our friend Ernest raised himself on his tiptoes, in hopes to\nget a glimpse of the celebrated guest; but there was a mighty crowd\nabout the tables anxious to hear the toasts and speeches, and to catch\nany word that might fall from the general in reply; and a volunteer\ncompany, doing duty as a guard, pricked ruthlessly with their bayonets\nat any particularly quiet person among the throng. So Ernest, being of\nan unobtrusive character, was thrust quite into the background, where he\ncould see no more of Old Blood-and-Thunder's physiognomy than if it had\nbeen still blazing on the battle-field. To console himself, he turned\ntoward the Great Stone Face, which, like a faithful and long-remembered\nfriend, looked back and smiled upon him through the vista of the forest.\nMeantime, however, he could overhear the remarks of various individuals,\nwho were comparing the features of the hero with the face on the distant\nmountain-side.\n\n\"'Tis the same face, to a hair!\" cried one man, cutting a caper for joy.\n\n\"Wonderfully like, that's a fact!\" responded another.\n\n\"Like! why, I call it Old Blood-and-Thunder himself, in a monstrous\nlooking-glass!\" cried a third. \"And why not? He's the greatest man of\nthis or any other age, beyond a doubt.\"\n\nAnd then all three of the speakers gave a great shout, which\ncommunicated electricity to the crowd, and called forth a roar from a\nthousand voices, that went reverberating for miles among the mountains,\nuntil you might have supposed that the Great Stone Face had poured its\nthunder-breath into the cry. All these comments, and this vast\nenthusiasm, served the more to interest our friend; nor did he think of\nquestioning that now, at length, the mountain-visage had found its human\ncounterpart. It is true, Ernest had imagined that this long-looked-for\npersonage would appear in the character of a man of peace, uttering\nwisdom, and doing good, and making people happy. But, taking an habitual\nbreadth of view, with all his simplicity, he contended that Providence\nshould choose its own method of blessing mankind, and could conceive\nthat this great end might be effected even by a warrior and a bloody\nsword, should inscrutable wisdom see fit to order matters so.\n\n\"The general! the general!\" was now the cry. \"Hush! silence! Old\nBlood-and-Thunder's going to make a speech.\"\n\nEven so; for, the cloth being removed, the general's health had been\ndrunk amid shouts of applause, and he now stood upon his feet to thank\nthe company. Ernest saw him. There he was, over the shoulders of the\ncrowd, from the two glittering epaulets and embroidered collar upward,\nbeneath the arch of green boughs with intertwined laurel, and the banner\ndrooping as if to shade his brow! And there, too, visible in the same\nglance, through the vista of the forest, appeared the Great Stone Face!\nAnd was there, indeed, such a resemblance as the crowd had testified?\nAlas, Ernest could not recognize it! He beheld a war-worn and\nweather-beaten countenance, full of energy, and expressive of an iron\nwill; but the gentle wisdom, the deep, broad, tender sympathies, were\naltogether wanting in Old Blood-and Thunder's visage; and even if the\nGreat Stone Face had assumed his look of stern command, the milder\ntraits would still have tempered it.\n\n\"This is not the man of prophecy,\" sighed Ernest, to himself, as he made\nhis way out of the throng. \"And must the world wait longer yet?\"\n\nThe mists had congregated about the distant mountain-side, and there\nwere seen the grand and awful features of the Great Stone Face, awful\nbut benignant, as if a mighty angel were sitting among the hills, and\nenrobing himself in a cloud-vesture of gold and purple. As he looked,\nErnest could hardly believe but that a smile beamed over the whole\nvisage, with a radiance still brightening, although without motion of\nthe lips. It was probably the effect of the western sunshine, melting\nthrough the thinly diffused vapors that had swept between him and the\nobject that he gazed at. But--as it always did--the aspect of his\nmarvellous friend made Ernest as hopeful as if he had never hoped in\nvain.\n\n\"Fear not, Ernest,\" said his heart, even as if the Great Face were\nwhispering him--\"fear not, Ernest; he will come.\"\n\nMore years sped swiftly and tranquilly away. Ernest still dwelt in his\nnative valley, and was now a man of middle age. By imperceptible\ndegrees, he had become known among the people. Now, as heretofore, he\nlabored for his bread, and was the same simple-hearted man that he had\nalways been. But he had thought and felt so much, he had given so many\nof the best hours of his life to unworldly hopes for some great good to\nmankind, that it seemed as though he had been talking with the angels,\nand had imbibed a portion of their wisdom unawares. It was visible in\nthe calm and well-considered beneficence of his daily life, the quiet\nstream of which had made a wide green margin all along its course. Not a\nday passed by, that the world was not the better because this man,\nhumble as he was, had lived. He never stepped aside from his own path,\nyet would always reach a blessing to his neighbor. Almost involuntarily,\ntoo, he had become a preacher. The pure and high simplicity of his\nthought, which, as one of its manifestations, took shape in the good\ndeeds that dropped silently from his hand, flowed also forth in speech.\nHe uttered truths that wrought upon and molded the lives of those who\nheard him. His auditors, it may be, never suspected that Ernest, their\nown neighbor and familiar friend, was more than an ordinary man; least\nof all did Ernest himself suspect it; but, inevitably as the murmur of a\nrivulet, came thoughts out of his mouth that no other human lips had\nspoken.\n\nWhen the people's minds had had a little time to cool, they were ready\nenough to acknowledge their mistake in imagining a similarity between\nGeneral Blood-and-Thunder's truculent physiognomy and the benign visage\non the mountain-side. But now, again, there were reports and many\nparagraphs in the newspapers, affirming that the likeness of the Great\nStone Face had appeared upon the broad shoulders of a certain eminent\nstatesman. He, like Mr. Gathergold and Old Blood-and-Thunder, was a\nnative of the valley, but had left it in his early days, and taken up\nthe trades of law and politics. Instead of the rich man's wealth and the\nwarrior's sword, he had but a tongue, and it was mightier than both\ntogether. So wonderfully eloquent was he, that whatever he might choose\nto say, his auditors had no choice but to believe him; wrong looked like\nright, and right like wrong; for when it pleased him, he could make a\nkind of illuminated fog with his mere breath, and obscure the natural\ndaylight with it. His tongue, indeed, was a magic instrument: sometimes\nit rumbled like the thunder; sometimes it warbled like the sweetest\nmusic. It was the blast of war--the song of peace; and it seemed to have\na heart in it, when there was no such matter. In good truth, he was a\nwondrous man; and when his tongue had acquired him all other imaginable\nsuccess,--when it had been heard in halls of state, and in the courts of\nprinces and potentates--after it had made him known all over the world,\neven as a voice crying from shore to shore--it finally persuaded his\ncountrymen to select him for the Presidency. Before this time--indeed,\nas soon as he began to grow celebrated--his admirers had found out the\nresemblance between him and the Great Stone Face; and so much were they\nstruck by it, that throughout the country this distinguished gentleman\nwas known by the name of Old Stony Phiz. The phrase was considered as\ngiving a highly favorable aspect to his political prospects; for, as is\nlikewise the case with the Popedom, nobody ever becomes President\nwithout taking a name other than his own.\n\nWhile his friends were doing their best to make him President, Old Stony\nPhiz, as he was called, set out on a visit to the valley where he was\nborn. Of course, he had no other object than to shake hands with his\nfellow-citizens, and neither thought nor cared about any effect which\nhis progress through the country might have upon the election.\nMagnificent preparations were made to receive the illustrious statesman;\na cavalcade of horsemen set forth to meet him at the boundary line of\nthe State, and all the people left their business and gathered along the\nwayside to see him pass. Among these was Ernest. Though more than once\ndisappointed, as we have seen, he had such a hopeful and confiding\nnature, that he was always ready to believe in whatever seemed beautiful\nand good. He kept his heart continually open, and thus was sure to catch\nthe blessing from on high, when it should come. So now again, as\nbuoyantly as ever, he went forth to behold the likeness of the Great\nStone Face.\n\nThe cavalcade came prancing along the road, with a great clattering of\nhoofs and a mighty cloud of dust, which rose up so dense and high that\nthe visage of the mountain-side was completely hidden from Ernest's\neyes. All the great men of the neighborhood were there on horseback:\nmilitia officers, in uniform; the member of Congress; the sheriff of the\ncounty; the editors of newspapers; and many a farmer, too, had mounted\nhis patient steed, with his Sunday coat upon his back. It really was a\nvery brilliant spectacle, especially as there were numerous banners\nflaunting over the cavalcade, on some of which were gorgeous portraits\nof the illustrious statesman and the Great Stone Face, smiling\nfamiliarly at one another, like two brothers. If the pictures were to be\ntrusted, the mutual resemblance, it must be confessed, was marvellous.\nWe must not forget to mention that there was a band of music, which made\nthe echoes of the mountains ring and reverberate with the loud triumph\nof its strains; so that airy and soul-thrilling melodies broke out among\nall the heights and hollows, as if every nook of his native valley had\nfound a voice, to welcome the distinguished guest. But the grandest\neffect was when the far-off mountain precipice flung back the music; for\nthen the Great Stone Face itself seemed to be swelling the triumphant\nchorus, in acknowledgment that, at length, the man of prophecy was come.\n\nAll this while the people were throwing up their hats and shouting, with\nenthusiasm so contagious that the heart of Ernest kindled up, and he\nlikewise threw up his hat, and shouted, as loudly as the loudest, \"Huzza\nfor the great man! Huzza for Old Stony Phiz!\" But as yet he had not seen\nhim.\n\n\"Here he is, now!\" cried those who stood near Ernest. \"There! There!\nLook at Old Stony Phiz and then at the Old Man of the Mountain, and see\nif they are not as like as two twin-brothers!\"\n\nIn the midst of all this gallant array, came an open barouche, drawn by\nfour white horses; and in the barouche, with his massive head uncovered,\nsat the illustrious statesman, Old Stony Phiz himself.\n\n\"Confess it,\" said one of Ernest's neighbors to him, \"the Great Stone\nFace has met its match at last!\"\n\nNow, it must be owned that, at his first glimpse of the countenance\nwhich was bowing and smiling from the barouche, Ernest did fancy that\nthere was a resemblance between it and the old familiar face upon the\nmountain-side. The brow, with its massive depth and loftiness, and all\nthe other features, indeed, were boldly and strongly hewn, as if in\nemulation of a more than heroic, of a Titanic model. But the sublimity\nand stateliness, the grand expression of a divine sympathy, that\nilluminated the mountain visage, and etherealized its ponderous granite\nsubstance into spirit, might here be sought in vain. Something had been\noriginally left out, or had departed. And therefore the marvellously\ngifted statesman had always a weary gloom in the deep caverns of his\neyes, as of a child that has outgrown its playthings, or a man of mighty\nfaculties and little aims, whose life, with all its high performances,\nwas vague and empty, because no high purpose had endowed it with\nreality.\n\nStill, Ernest's neighbor was thrusting his elbow into his side, and\npressing him for an answer.\n\n\"Confess! confess! Is not he the very picture of your Old Man of the\nMountain?\"\n\n\"No!\" said Ernest, bluntly, \"I see little or no likeness.\"\n\n\"Then so much the worse for the Great Stone Face!\" answered his\nneighbor; and again he set up a shout for Old Stony Phiz.\n\nBut Ernest turned away, melancholy, and almost despondent: for this was\nthe saddest of his disappointments, to behold a man who might have\nfulfilled the prophecy, and had not willed to do so. Meantime, the\ncavalcade, the banners, the music, and the barouches swept past him,\nwith the vociferous crowd in the rear, leaving the dust to settle down,\nand the Great Stone Face to be revealed again, with the grandeur that it\nhad worn for untold centuries.\n\n\"Lo, here I am, Ernest!\" the benign lips seemed to say. \"I have waited\nlonger than thou, and am not yet weary. Fear not; the man will come.\"\n\nThe years hurried onward, treading in their haste on one another's\nheels. And now they began to bring white hairs, and scatter them over\nthe head of Ernest; they made reverend wrinkles across his forehead, and\nfurrows in his cheeks. He was an aged man. But not in vain had he grown\nold: more than the white hairs on his head were the sage thoughts in his\nmind; his wrinkles and furrows were inscriptions that Time had graved,\nand in which he had written legends of wisdom that had been tested by\nthe tenor of a life. And Ernest had ceased to be obscure. Unsought for,\nundesired, had come the fame which so many seek, and made him known in\nthe great world, beyond the limits of the valiey in which he had dwelt\nso quietly. College professors, and even the active men of cities, came\nfrom far to see and converse with Ernest; for the report had gone abroad\nthat this simple husbandman had ideas unlike those of other men, not\ngained from books, but of a higher tone--a tranquil and familiar\nmajesty, as if he had been talking with the angels as his daily friends.\nWhether it were sage, statesman, or philanthropist, Ernest received\nthese visitors with the gentle sincerity that had characterized him from\nboyhood, and spoke freely with them of whatever came uppermost, or lay\ndeepest in his heart or their own. While they talked together, his face\nwould kindle, unawares, and shine upon them, as with a mild evening\nlight. Pensive with the fulness of such discourse, his guests took leave\nand went their way; and passing up the valley, paused to look at the\nGreat Stone Face, imagining that they had seen its likeness in a human\ncountenance, but could not remember where.\n\nWhile Ernest had been growing up and growing old, a bountiful Providence\nhad granted a new poet to this earth. He, likewise, was a native of the\nvalley, but had spent the greater part of his life at a distance from\nthat romantic region, pouring out his sweet music amid the bustle and\ndin of cities. Often, however, did the mountains which had been\nfamiliar to him in his childhood lift their snowy peaks into the clear\natmosphere of his poetry. Neither was the Great Stone Face forgotten,\nfor the poet had celebrated it in an ode, which was grand enough to have\nbeen uttered by its own majestic lips. This man of genius, we may say,\nhad come down from heaven with wonderful endowments. If he sang of a\nmountain, the eyes of all mankind beheld a mightier grandeur reposing on\nits breast, or soaring to its summit, than had before been seen there.\nIf his theme were a lovely lake, a celestial smile had now been thrown\nover it, to gleam forever on its surface. If it were the vast old sea,\neven the deep immensity of its dread bosom seemed to swell the higher,\nas if moved by the emotions of the song. Thus the world assumed another\nand a better aspect from the hour that the poet blessed it with his\nhappy eyes. The Creator had bestowed him, as the last best touch to his\nown handiwork. Creation was not finished till the poet came to\ninterpret, and so complete it.\n\nThe effect was no less high and beautiful, when his human brethren were\nthe subject of his verse. The man or woman, sordid with the common dust\nof life, who crossed his daily path, and the little child who played in\nit, were glorified if he beheld them in his mood of poetic faith. He\nshowed the golden links of the great chain that intertwined them with an\nangelic kindred; he brought out the hidden traits of a celestial birth\nthat made them worthy of such kin. Some, indeed, there were, who\nthought to show the soundness of their judgment by affirming that all\nthe beauty and dignity of the natural world existed only in the poet's\nfancy. Let such men speak for themselves, who undoubtedly appear to have\nbeen spawned forth by Nature with a contemptuous bitterness; she having\nplastered them up out of her refuse stuff, after all the swine were\nmade. As respects all things else, the poet's ideal was the truest\ntruth.\n\nThe songs of this poet found their way to Ernest. He read them after his\ncustomary toil, seated on the bench before his cottage-door, where for\nsuch a length of time he had filled his repose with thought, by gazing\nat the Great Stone Face. And now as he read stanzas that caused the soul\nto thrill within him, he lifted his eyes to the vast countenance beaming\non him so benignantly.\n\n\"O majestic friend,\" he murmured, addressing the Great Stone Face, \"is\nnot this man worthy to resemble thee?\"\n\nThe Face seemed to smile, but answered not a word.\n\nNow it happened that the poet, though he dwelt so far away, had not only\nheard of Ernest, but had meditated much upon his character, until he\ndeemed nothing so desirable as to meet this man, whose untaught wisdom\nwalked hand in hand with the noble simplicity of his life. One summer\nmorning, therefore, he took passage by the railroad, and, in the decline\nof the afternoon, alighted from the cars at no great distance from\nErnest's cottage. The great hotel, which had formerly been the palace of\nMr. Gathergold, was close at hand, but the poet, with his carpet-bag on\nhis arm, inquired at once where Ernest dwelt, and was resolved to be\naccepted as his guest.\n\nApproaching the door, he there found the good old man, holding a volume\nin his hand, which alternately he read, and then, with a finger between\nthe leaves, looked lovingly at the Great Stone Face.\n\n\"Good evening,\" said the poet. \"Can you give a traveller a night's\nlodging?\"\n\n\"Willingly,\" answered Ernest; and then he added, smiling, \"Methinks I\nnever saw the Great Stone Face look so hospitably at a stranger.\"\n\nThe poet sat down on the bench beside him, and he and Ernest talked\ntogether. Often had the poet held intercourse with the wittiest and the\nwisest, but never before with a man like Ernest, whose thoughts and\nfeelings gushed up with such a natural freedom, and who made great\ntruths so familiar by his simple utterance of them. Angels, as had been\nso often said, seemed to have wrought with him at his labor in the\nfields; angels seemed to have sat with him by the fireside; and,\ndwelling with angels as friend with friends, he had imbibed the\nsublimity of their ideas, and imbued it with the sweet and lowly charm\nof household words. So thought the poet. And Ernest, on the other hand,\nwas moved and agitated by the living images which the poet flung out of\nhis mind, and which peopled all the air about the cottage-door with\nshapes of beauty, both gay and pensive. The sympathies of these two men\ninstructed them with a profounder sense than either could have attained\nalone. Their minds accorded into one strain, and made delightful music\nwhich neither of them could have claimed as all his own, nor\ndistinguished his own share from the other's. They led one another, as\nit were, into a high pavilion of their thoughts, so remote, and hitherto\nso dim, that they had never entered it before, and so beautiful that\nthey desired to be there always.\n\nAs Ernest listened to the poet, he imagined that the Great Stone Face\nwas bending forward to listen too. He gazed earnestly into the poet's\nglowing eyes.\n\n\"Who are you, my strangely gifted guest?\" he said.\n\nThe poet laid his finger on the volume that Ernest had been reading.\n\n\"You have read these poems,\" said he. \"You know me, then--for I wrote\nthem.\"\n\nAgain, and still more earnestly than before, Ernest examined the poet's\nfeatures; then turned toward the Great Stone Face; then back, with an\nuncertain aspect, to his guest. But his countenance fell; he shook his\nhead, and sighed.\n\n\"Wherefore are you sad?\" inquired the poet.\n\n\"Because,\" replied Ernest, \"all through life I have awaited the\nfulfilment of a prophecy; and, when I read these poems, I hoped that it\nmight be fulfilled in you.\"\n\n\"You hoped,\" answered the poet, faintly smiling, \"to find in me the\nlikeness of the Great Stone Face. And you are disappointed, as formerly\nwith Mr. Gathergold, and Old Blood-and-Thunder, and Old Stony Phiz.\nYes, Ernest, it is my doom. You must add my name to the illustrious\nthree, and record another failure of your hopes. For--in shame and\nsadness do I speak it, Ernest--I am not worthy to be typified by yonder\nbenign and majestic image.\"\n\n\"And why?\" asked Ernest. He pointed to the volume. \"Are not those\nthoughts divine?\"\n\n\"They have a strain of the Divinity,\" replied the poet. \"You can hear in\nthem the far-off echo of a heavenly song. But my life, dear Ernest, has\nnot corresponded with my thought. I have had grand dreams, but they have\nbeen only dreams, because I have lived--and that, too, by my own\nchoice--among poor and mean realities. Sometimes even--shall I dare to\nsay it?--I lack faith in the grandeur, the beauty, and the goodness,\nwhich my own works are said to have made more evident in nature and in\nhuman life. Why, then, pure seeker of the good and true, shouldst thou\nhope to find me, in yonder image of the divine?\"\n\nThe poet spoke sadly, and his eyes were dim with tears. So, likewise,\nwere those of Ernest.\n\nAt the hour of sunset, as had long been his frequent custom, Ernest was\nto discourse to an assemblage of the neighboring inhabitants in the open\nair. He and the poet, arm in arm, still talking together as they went\nalong, proceeded to the spot. It was a small nook among the hills, with\na gray precipice behind, the stern front of which was relieved by the\npleasant foliage of many creeping plants, that made a tapestry for the\nnaked rock, by hanging their festoons from all its rugged angles. At a\nsmall elevation above the ground, set in a rich framework of verdure,\nthere appeared a niche, spacious enough to admit a human figure, with\nfreedom for such gestures as spontaneously ascompany earnest thought and\ngenuine emotion. Into this natural pulpit Ernest ascended, and threw a\nlook of familiar kindness around upon his audience. They stood, or sat,\nor reclined upon the grass, as seemed good to each, with the departing\nsunshine falling obliquely over them, and mingling its subdued\ncheerfulness with the solemnity of a grove of ancient trees, beneath and\namid the boughs of which the golden rays were constrained to pass. In\nanother direction was seen the Great Stone Face, with the same cheer,\ncombined with the same solemnity, in its benignant aspect.\n\nErnest began to speak, giving to the people of what was in his heart and\nmind. His words had power, because they accorded with his thoughts; and\nhis thoughts had reality and depth, because they harmonized with the\nlife which he had always lived. It was not mere breath that this\npreacher uttered; they were the words of life, because a life of good\ndeeds and holy love was melted into them. Pearls, pure and rich, had\nbeen dissolved into this precious draught. The poet, as he listened,\nfelt that the being and character of Ernest were a nobler strain of\npoetry than he had ever written. His eyes glistening with tears, he\ngazed reverentially at the venerable man, and said within himself that\nnever was there an aspect so worthy of a prophet and a sage as that\nmild, sweet, thoughtful countenance, with the glory of white hair\ndiffused about it. At a distance, but distinctly to be seen, high up in\nthe golden light of the setting sun, appeared the Great Stone Face, with\nhoary mists around it, like the white hairs around the brow of Ernest.\nIts look of grand beneficence seemed to embrace the world.\n\nAt that moment, in sympathy with a thought which he was about to utter,\nthe face of Ernest assumed a grandeur of expression, so imbued with\nbenevolence, that the poet, by an irresistible impulse, threw his arms\naloft, and shouted:\n\n\"Behold! Behold! Ernest is himself the likeness of the Great Stone\nFace!\"\n\nThen all the people looked, and saw that what the deep-sighted poet said\nwas true. The prophecy was fulfilled. But Ernest, having finished what\nhe had to say, took the poet's arm, and walked slowly homeward, still\nhoping that some wiser and better man than himself would by and by\nappear, bearing a resemblance to the GREAT STONE FACE.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GENTLE BOY\n\nBy NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE\n\n\nIn the course of the year 1656, several of the people called Quakers,\nled, as they professed, by the inward movement of the spirit, made their\nappearance in New England. Their reputation, as holders of mystic and\npernicious principles, having spread before them, the Puritans early\nendeavored to banish, and to prevent the further intrusion of the rising\nsect. But the measures by which it was intended to purge the land of\nheresy, though more than sufficiently vigorous, were entirely\nunsuccessful. The Quakers, esteeming persecution as a divine call to the\npost of danger, laid claim to a holy courage, unknown to the Puritans\nthemselves, who had shunned the cross, by providing for the peaceable\nexercise of their religion in a distant wilderness. Though it was the\nsingular fact, that every nation of the earth rejected the wandering\nenthusiasts who practiced peace toward all men, the place of greatest\nuneasiness and peril, and therefore, in their eyes, the most eligible,\nwas the province of Massachusetts Bay.\n\nThe fines, imprisonments, and stripes, liberally distributed by our\npious forefathers, the popular antipathy, so strong that it endured\nnearly a hundred years after actual persecution had ceased, were\nattractions as powerful for the Quakers as peace, honor, and reward\nwould have been for the wordly-minded. Every European vessel brought new\ncargoes of the sect, eager to testify against the oppression which they\nhoped to share; and, when shipmasters were restrained by heavy fines\nfrom affording them passage, they made long and circuitous journeys\nthrough the Indian country, and appeared in the province as if conveyed\nby a supernatural power. Their enthusiasm, heightened almost to madness\nby the treatment which they received, produced actions contrary to the\nrules of decency, as well as of rational religion, and presented a\nsingular contrast to the calm and staid deportment of their sectarian\nsuccessors of the present day. The command of the spirit, inaudible\nexcept to the soul, and not to be controverted on grounds of human\nwisdom, was made a plea for most indecorous exhibitions, which,\nabstractedly considered, well deserved the moderate chastisement of the\nrod. These extravagances, and the persecution which was at once their\ncause and consequence, continued to increase, till, in the year 1659,\nthe government of Massachusetts Bay indulged two members of the Quaker\nsect with the crown of martyrdom.\n\nAn indelible stain of blood is upon the hands of all who consented to\nthis act, but a large share of the awful responsibility must rest upon\nthe person then at the head of the government. He was a man of narrow\nmind and imperfect education, and his uncompromising bigotry was made\nhot and mischievous by violent and hasty passions; he exerted his\ninfluence indecorously and unjustifiably to compass the death of the\nenthusiasts; and his whole conduct, in respect to them, was marked by\nbrutal cruelty.\n\nThe Quakers, whose revengeful feelings were not less deep because they\nwere inactive, remembered this man and his associates, in after times.\nThe historian of the sect affirms that, by the wrath of Heaven, a blight\nfell upon the land in the vicinity of the \"bloody town\" of Boston, so\nthat no wheat would grow there; and he takes his stand, as it were,\namong the graves of the ancient persecutors, and triumphantly recounts\nthe judgments that overtook them, in old age or at the parting hour. He\ntells us that they died suddenly, and violently, and in madness; but\nnothing can exceed the bitter mockery with which he records the\nloathsome disease, and \"death by rottenness,\" of the fierce and cruel\ngovernor.\n\nOn the evening of the autumn day, that had witnessed the martyrdom of\ntwo men of the Quaker persuasion, a Puritan settler was returning from\nthe metropolis to the neighboring country town in which he resided. The\nair was cool, the sky clear, and the lingering twilight was made\nbrighter by the rays of a young moon, which had now nearly reached the\nverge of the horizon. The traveller, a man of middle age, wrapped in a\ngray frieze cloak, quickened his pace when he had reached the outskirts\nof the town, for a gloomy extent of nearly four miles lay between him\nand his home. The low, straw-thatched houses were scattered at\nconsiderable intervals along the road, and the country having been\nsettled but about thirty years, the tracts of original forest still bore\nno small proportion to the cultivated ground. The autumn wind wandered\namong the branches, whirling away the leaves from all except the\npine-trees, and moaning as if it lamented the desolation of which it was\nthe instrument. The road had penetrated the mass of woods that lay\nnearest to the town, and was just emerging into an open space, when the\ntraveller's ears were saluted by a sound more mournful than even that of\nthe wind. It was like the wailing of some one in distress, and it seemed\nto proceed from beneath a tall and lonely fir-tree, in the centre of a\ncleared, but uninclosed and uncultivated field. The Puritan could not\nbut remember that this was the very spot which had been made accursed a\nfew hours before by the execution of the Quakers, whose bodies had been\nthrown together into one hasty grave, beneath the tree on which they\nsuffered. He struggled, however, against the superstitious fears which\nbelonged to the age, and compelled himself to pause and listen.\n\n\"The voice is most likely mortal, nor have I cause to tremble if it be\notherwise,\" thought he, straining his eyes through the dim moonlight.\n\"Methinks it is like the wailing of a child; some infant, it may be,\nwhich has strayed from its mother, and chanced upon this place of death.\nFor the ease of mine own conscience, I must search this matter out.\"\n\nHe therefore left the path, and walked somewhat fearfully across the\nfield. Though now so desolate, its soil was pressed down and trampled by\nthe thousand footsteps of those who had witnessed the spectacle of that\nday, all of whom had now retired, leaving the dead to their loneliness.\nThe traveller at length reached the fir-tree, which from the middle\nupward was covered with living branches, although a scaffold had been\nerected beneath, and other preparations made for the work of death.\nUnder this unhappy tree, which in after times was believed to drop\npoison with its dew, sat the one solitary mourner for innocent blood. It\nwas a slender and light-clad little boy, who leaned his face upon a\nhillock of fresh-turned and half-frozen earth, and wailed bitterly, yet\nin a suppressed tone, as if his grief might receive the punishment of\ncrime. The Puritan, whose approach had been unperceived, laid his hand\nupon the child's shoulder, and addressed him compassionately.\n\n\"You have chosen a dreary lodging, my poor boy, and no wonder that you\nweep,\" said he. \"But dry your eyes, and tell me where your mother\ndwells. I promise you if the journey be not too far, I will leave you in\nher arms to-night.\"\n\nThe boy had hushed his wailing at once, and turned his face upward to\nthe stranger. It was a pale, bright-eyed countenance, certainly not more\nthan six years old, but sorrow, fear, and want had destroyed much of its\ninfantile expression. The Puritan, seeing the boy's frightened gaze, and\nfeeling that he trembled under his hand, endeavored to reassure him.\n\n\"Nay, if I intended to do you harm, little lad, the readiest way were\nto leave you here. What! you do not fear to sit beneath the gallows on a\nnew-made grave, and yet you tremble at a friend's touch. Take heart,\nchild, and tell me what is your name, and where is your home!\"\n\n\"Friend,\" replied the little boy, in a sweet, though faltering voice,\n\"they call me Ilbrahim, and my home is here.\"\n\nThe pale, spiritual face, the eyes that seemed to mingle with the\nmoonlight, the sweet airy voice, and the outlandish name almost made the\nPuritan believe that the boy was in truth a being which had sprung up\nout of the grave on which he sat. But perceiving that the apparition\nstood the test of a short mental prayer, and remembering that the arm\nwhich he had touched was life-like, he adopted a more rational\nsupposition. \"The poor child is stricken in his intellect,\" thought he,\n\"but verily his words are fearful, in a place like this.\" He then spoke\nsoothingly, intending to humor the boy's fantasy.\n\n\"Your home will scarce be comfortable, Ilbrahim, this cold autumn night,\nand I fear you are ill provided with food. I am hastening to a warm\nsupper and bed, and if you will go with me, you shall share them!\"\n\n\"I thank thee, friend, but though I be hungry, and shivering with cold,\nthou wilt not give me food nor lodging,\" replied the boy, in the quiet\ntone which despair had taught him, even so young. \"My father was of the\npeople whom all men hate. They have laid him under this heap of earth,\nand here is my home.\"\n\nThe Puritan, who had laid hold of little Ilbrahim's hand, relinquished\nit as if he were touching a loathsome reptile. But he possessed a\ncompassionate heart, which not even religious prejudice could harden\ninto stone.\n\n\"God forbid that I should leave this child to perish, though he comes of\nthe accursed sect,\" said he to himself. \"Do we not all spring from an\nevil root? Are we not all in darkness till the light doth shine upon us?\nHe shall not perish, neither in body, nor, if prayer and instruction may\navail for him, in soul.\" He then spoke aloud and kindly to Ilbrahim, who\nhad again hid his face in the cold earth of the grave. \"Was every door\nin the land shut against you, my child, that you have wandered to this\nunhallowed spot?\"\n\n\"They drove me forth from the prison when they took my father thence,\"\nsaid the boy, \"and I stood afar off, watching the crowd of people; and\nwhen they were gone, I came hither, and found only this grave. I knew\nthat my father was sleeping here, and I said, This shall be my home.\"\n\n\"No, child, no; not while I have a roof over my head, or a morsel to\nshare with you!\" exclaimed the Puritan, whose sympathies were now fully\nexcited. \"Rise up and come with me, and fear not any harm.\"\n\nThe boy wept afresh, and clung to the heap of earth, as if the cold\nheart beneath it were warmer to him than any in a living breast. The\ntraveller, however, continued to entreat him tenderly, and seeming to\nacquire some degree of confidence, he at length arose. But his slender\nlimbs tottered with weakness, his little head grew dizzy, and he leaned\nagainst the tree of death for support.\n\n\"My poor boy, are you so feeble?\" said the Puritan. \"When did you taste\nfood last?\"\n\n\"I ate of bread and water with my father in the prison,\" replied\nIlbrahim, \"but they brought him none neither yesterday nor to-day,\nsaying that he had eaten enough to bear him to his journey's end.\nTrouble not thyself for my hunger, kind friend, for I have lacked food\nmany times ere now.\"\n\nThe traveller took the child in his arms and wrapped his cloak about\nhim, while his heart stirred with shame and anger against the gratuitous\ncruelty of the instruments in this persecution. In the awakened warmth\nof his feelings, he resolved that, at whatever risk, he would not\nforsake the poor little defenceless being whom Heaven had confided to\nhis care. With this determination, he left the accursed field, and\nresumed the homeward path from which the wailing of the boy had called\nhim. The light and motionless burden scarcely impeded his progress, and\nhe soon beheld the fire rays from the windows of the cottage which he, a\nnative of a distant clime, had built in the Western wilderness. It was\nsurrounded by a considerable extent of cultivated ground, and the\ndwelling was situated in the nook of a wood-covered hill, whither it\nseemed to have crept for protection.\n\n\"Look up, child,\" said the Puritan to Ilbrahim, whose faint head had\nsunk upon his shoulder, \"there is our home.\"\n\nAt the word \"home,\" a thrill passed through the child's frame, but he\ncontinued silent. A few moments brought them to the cottage-door, at\nwhich the owner knocked; for at that early period, when savages were\nwandering everywhere among the settlers, bolt and bar were indispensable\nto the security of a dwelling. The summons was answered by a\nbond-servant, a coarse-clad and dull-featured piece of humanity, who,\nafter ascertaining that his master was the applicant, undid the door,\nand held a flaring pine-knot torch to light him in. Further back in the\npassageway, the red blaze discovered a matronly woman, but no little\ncrowd of children came bounding forth to greet their father's return. As\nthe Puritan entered, he thrust aside his cloak, and displayed Ilbrahim's\nface to the female.\n\n\"Dorothy, here is a little outcast whom Providence hath put into our\nhands,\" observed he. \"Be kind to him, even as if he were of those dear\nones who have departed from us.\"\n\n\"What pale and bright-eyed little boy is this, Tobias?\" she inquired.\n\"Is he one whom the wilderness folk have ravished from some Christian\nmother?\"\n\n\"No, Dorothy, this poor child is no captive from the wilderness,\" he\nreplied. \"The heathen savage would have given him to eat of his scanty\nmorsel, and to drink of his birchen cup; but Christian men, alas! had\ncast him out to die.\"\n\nThen he told her how he had found him beneath the gallows, upon his\nfather's grave; and how his heart had prompted him, like the speaking of\nan inward voice, to take the little outcast home, and be kind unto him.\nHe acknowledged his resolution to feed and clothe him, as if he were his\nown child, and to afford him the instruction which should counteract the\npernicious errors hitherto instilled into his infant mind. Dorothy was\ngifted with even a quicker tenderness than her husband, and she approved\nof all his doings and intentions.\n\n\"Have you a mother, dear child?\" she inquired.\n\nThe tears burst forth from his full heart, as he attempted to reply; but\nDorothy at length understood that he had a mother, who, like the rest of\nher sect, was a persecuted wanderer. She had been taken from the prison\na short time before, carried into the uninhabited wilderness, and left\nto perish there by hunger or wild beasts. This was no uncommon method of\ndisposing of the Quakers, and they were accustomed to boast, that the\ninhabitants of the desert were more hospitable to them than civilized\nman.\n\n\"Fear not, little boy, you shall not need a mother, and a kind one,\"\nsaid Dorothy, when she had gathered this information. \"Dry your tears,\nIlbrahim, and be my child, as I will be your mother.\"\n\nThe good woman prepared the little bed, from which her own children had\nsuccessively been borne to another resting-place. Before Ilbrahim would\nconsent to occupy it, he knelt down, and as Dorothy listened to his\nsimple and affecting prayer, she marvelled how the parents that had\ntaught it to him could have been judged worthy of death. When the boy\nhad fallen asleep, she bent over his pale and spiritual countenance,\npressed a kiss upon his white brow, drew the bedclothes up about his\nneck, and went away with a pensive gladness in her heart.\n\nTobias Pearson was not among the earliest emigrants from the old\ncountry. He had remained in England during the first years of the civil\nwar, in which he had borne some share as a cornet of dragoons, under\nCromwell. But when the ambitious designs of his leader began to develop\nthemselves, he quitted the army of the Parliament, and sought a refuge\nfrom the strife, which was no longer holy, among the people of his\npersuasion in the colony of Massachusetts. A more worldly consideration\nhad perhaps an influence in drawing him thither; for New England offered\nadvantages to men of unprosperous fortunes, as well as to dissatisfied\nreligionists, and Pearson had hitherto found it difficult to provide for\na wife and increasing family. To this supposed impurity of motive, the\nmore bigoted Puritans were inclined to impute the removal by death of\nall the children, for whose earthly good the father had been\nover-thoughtful. They had left their native country blooming like roses,\nand like roses they had perished in a foreign soil. Those expounders of\nthe ways of Providence, who had thus judged their brother, and\nattributed his domestic sorrows to his sin, were not more charitable\nwhen they saw him and Dorothy endeavoring to fill up the void in their\nhearts by the adoption of an infant of the accursed sect. Nor did they\nfail to communicate their disapprobation to Tobias; but the latter, in\nreply, merely pointed at the little, quiet, lovely boy, whose appearance\nand deportment were indeed as powerful arguments as could possibly have\nbeen adduced in his own favor. Even his beauty, however, and his winning\nmanners, sometimes produced an effect ultimately unfavorable; for the\nbigots, when the outer surfaces of their iron hearts had been softened\nand again grew hard, affirmed that no merely natural cause could have so\nworked upon them.\n\nTheir antipathy to the poor infant was also increased by the ill success\nof divers theological discussions, in which it was attempted to convince\nhim of the errors of his sect. Ilbrahim, it is true, was not a skilful\ncontroversialist; but the feeling of his religion was strong as instinct\nin him, and he could neither be enticed nor driven from the faith which\nhis father had died for. The odium of this stubbornness was shared in a\ngreat measure by the child's protectors, insomuch that Tobias and\nDorothy very shortly began to experience a most bitter species of\npersecution, in the cold regards of many a friend whom they had valued.\nThe common people manifested their opinions more openly. Pearson was a\nman of some consideration, being a representative to the General Court,\nand an approved lieutenant in the trainbands; yet within a week after\nhis adoption of Ilbrahim, he had been both hissed and hooted. Once,\nalso, when walking through a solitary piece of woods, he heard a loud\nvoice from some invisible speaker; and it cried, \"What shall be done to\nthe backslider? Lo! the scourge is knotted for him, even the whip of\nnine cords, and every cord three knots!\" These insults irritated\nPearson's temper for the moment; they entered also into his heart, and\nbecame imperceptible but powerful workers toward an end which his most\nsecret thought had not yet whispered.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOn the second Sabbath after Ilbrahim became a member of their family,\nPearson and his wife deemed it proper that he should appear with them at\npublic worship. They had anticipated some opposition to this measure\nfrom the boy, but he prepared himself in silence, and at the appointed\nhour was clad in the new mourning suit which Dorothy had wrought for\nhim. As the parish was then, and during many subsequent years,\nunprovided with a bell, the signal for the commencement of religious\nexercises was the beat of a drum. At the first sound of that martial\ncall to the place of holy and quiet thoughts, Tobias and Dorothy set\nforth, each holding a hand of little Ilbrahim, like two parents linked\ntogether by the infant of their love. On their path through the leafless\nwoods, they were overtaken by many persons of their acquaintance, all of\nwhom avoided them, and passed by on the other side; but a severer trial\nawaited their constancy when they had descended the hill, and drew near\nthe pine-built and undecorated house of prayer. Around the door, from\nwhich the drummer still sent forth his thundering summons, was drawn up\na formidable phalanx, including several of the oldest members of the\ncongregation, many of the middle aged, and nearly all the younger males.\nPearson found it difficult to sustain their united and disapproving\ngaze; but Dorothy, whose mind was differently circumstanced, merely drew\nthe boy closer to her, and faltered not in her approach. As they entered\nthe door, they overheard the muttered sentiments of the assemblage, and\nwhen the reviling voices of the little children smote Ilbrahim's ear, he\nwept.\n\nThe interior aspect of the meeting-house was rude. The low ceiling, the\nunplastered walls, the naked woodwork, and the undraperied pulpit\noffered nothing to excite the devotion, which, without such external\naids, often remains latent in the heart. The floor of the building was\noccupied by rows of long, cushionless benches, supplying the place of\npews, and the broad aisle formed a sexual division, impassable except by\nchildren beneath a certain age.\n\nPearson and Dorothy separated at the door of the meeting-house, and\nIlbrahim, being within the years of infancy, was retained under the care\nof the latter. The wrinkled beldams involved themselves in their rusty\ncloaks as he passed by; even the mild-featured maidens seemed to dread\ncontamination; and many a stern old man arose, and turned his repulsive\nand unheavenly countenance upon the gentle boy, as if the sanctuary\nwere polluted by his presence. He was a sweet infant of the skies, that\nhad strayed away from his home, and all the inhabitants of this\nmiserable world closed up their impure hearts against him, drew back\ntheir earth-soiled garments from his touch, and said, \"We are holier\nthan thou.\"\n\nIlbrahim, seated by the side of his adopted mother, and retaining fast\nhold of her hand, assumed a grave and decorous demeanor, such as might\nbefit a person of matured taste and understanding, who should find\nhimself in a temple dedicated to some worship which he did not\nrecognize, but felt himself bound to respect. The exercises had not yet\ncommenced, however, when the boy's attention was arrested by an event,\napparently of trifling interest. A woman, having her face muffled in a\nhood, and a cloak drawn completely about her form, advanced slowly up\nthe broad aisle, and took a place upon the foremost bench. Ilbrahim's\nfaint color varied, his nerves fluttered, he was unable to turn his eyes\nfrom the muffled female.\n\nWhen the preliminary prayer and hymn were over, the minister arose, and\nhaving turned the hour-glass which stood by the great Bible, commenced\nhis discourse. He was now well stricken in years, a man of pale, thin\ncountenance, and his gray hairs were closely covered by a black velvet\nskull cap. In his younger days he had practically learned the meaning of\npersecution from Archbishop Laud, and he was not now disposed to forget\nthe lesson against which he had murmured then. Introducing the\noften-discussed subject of the Quakers, he gave a history of that sect,\nand a description of their tenets, in which error predominated, and\nprejudice distorted the aspect of what was true. He adverted to the\nrecent measures in the province, and cautioned his hearers of weaker\nparts against calling in question the just severity which God-fearing\nmagistrates had at length been compelled to exercise. He spoke of the\ndanger of pity, in some cases a commendable and Christian virtue, but\ninapplicable to this pernicious sect. He observed that such was their\ndevilish obstinacy in error, that even the little children, the sucking\nbabes, were hardened and desperate heretics. He affirmed that no man,\nwithout Heaven's especial warrant, should attempt their conversion, lest\nwhile he lent his hand to draw them from the slough, he should himself\nbe precipitated into its lowest depths.\n\nThe sands of the second hour were principally in the lower half of the\nglass when the sermon concluded. An approving murmur followed, and the\nclergyman, having given out a hymn, took his seat with much\nself-congratulation, and endeavored to read the effect of his eloquence\nin the visages of the people. But while voices from all parts of the\nhouse were tuning themselves to sing, a scene occurred, which, though\nnot very unusual at that period in the province, happened to be without\nprecedent in this parish.\n\nThe muffled female, who had hitherto sat motionless in the front rank\nof the audience, now arose, and with slow, stately, and unwavering step\nascended the pulpit stairs. The quiverings of incipient harmony were\nhushed, and the divine sat in speechless and almost terrified\nastonishment, while she undid the door, and stood up in the sacred desk\nfrom which his maledictions had just been thundered. She then divested\nherself of the cloak and hood, and appeared in a most singular array. A\nshapeless robe of sackcloth was girded about her waist with a knotted\ncord; her raven hair fell down upon her shoulders, and its blackness was\ndefiled by pale streaks of ashes, which she had strewn upon her head.\nHer eyebrows, dark and strongly defined, added to the deathly whiteness\nof a countenance, which, emaciated with want, and wild with enthusiasm\nand strange sorrows, retained no trace of earlier beauty. This figure\nstood gazing earnestly on the audience, and there was no sound, nor any\nmovement, except a faint shuddering which every man observed in his\nneighbor, but was scarcely conscious of in himself. At length, when her\nfit of inspiration came, she spoke, for the first few moments in a low\nvoice and not invariably distinct utterance. Her discourse gave evidence\nof an imagination hopelessly entangled with her reason; it was a vague\nand incomprehensible rhapsody, which, however, seemed to spread its own\natmosphere round the hearer's soul, and to move his feelings by some\ninfluence unconnected with the words. As she proceeded, beautiful but\nshadowy images would sometimes be seen, like bright things moving in a\nturbid river; or a strong and singularly shaped idea leaped forth, and\nseized at once on the understanding or the heart. But the course of her\nunearthly eloquence soon led her to the persecutions of her sect, and\nfrom thence the step was short to her own peculiar sorrows. She was\nnaturally a woman of mighty passions, and hatred and revenge now wrapped\nthemselves in the garb of piety; the character of her speech was\nchanged, her images became distinct though wild, and her denunciations\nhad an almost hellish bitterness.\n\n\"The governor and his mighty men,\" she said, \"have gathered together,\ntaking counsel among themselves and saying, 'What shall we do unto this\npeople--even unto the people that have come into this land to put our\niniquity to the blush?' And lo! the Devil entereth into the\ncouncil-chamber, like a lame man of low stature and gravely apparelled,\nwith a dark and twisted countenance, and a bright, downcast eye. And he\nstandeth up among the rulers; yea, he goeth to and fro, whispering to\neach; and every man lends his ear, for his word is, 'Slay, slay!' But I\nsay unto ye, Woe to them that slay! Woe to them that shed the blood of\nsaints! Woe to them that have slain the husband, and cast forth the\nchild, the tender infant, to wander homeless, and hungry, and cold, till\nhe die; and have saved the mother alive, in the cruelty of their tender\nmercies! Woe to them in their lifetime, cursed are they in the delight\nand pleasure of their hearts! Woe to them in their death-hour, whether\nit come swiftly with blood and violence, or after long and lingering\npain! Woe, in the dark house, in the rottenness of the grave, when the\nchildren's children shall revile the ashes of the fathers! Woe, woe,\nwoe, at the judgment, when all the persecuted and all the slain in this\nbloody land, and the father, the mother, and the child shall await them\nin a day that they cannot escape! Seed of the faith, seed of the faith,\nye whose hearts are moving with a power that ye know not, arise, wash\nyour hands of this innocent blood! Lift your voices, chosen ones, cry\naloud, and call down a woe and a judgment with me!\"\n\nHaving thus given vent to the flood of malignity which she mistook for\ninspiration, the speaker was silent. Her voice was succeeded by the\nhysteric shrieks of several women, but the feelings of the audience\ngenerally had not been drawn onward in the current with her own. They\nremained stupefied, stranded as it were, in the midst of a torrent,\nwhich deafened them by its roaring, but might not move them by its\nviolence. The clergyman, who could not hitherto have ejected the usurper\nof his pulpit otherwise than by bodily force, now addressed her in the\ntone of just indignation and legitimate authority.\n\n\"Get you down, woman, from the holy place which you profane,\" he said.\n\"Is it to the Lord's house that you came to pour forth the foulness of\nyour heart, and the inspiration of the Devil? Get you down, and remember\nthat the sentence of death is on you, yea, and shall be executed, were\nit but for this day's work!\"\n\n\"I go, friend, I go, for the voice hath had its utterance,\" replied\nshe, in a depressed and even mild tone. \"I have done my mission unto\nthee and to thy people. Reward me with stripes, imprisonment, or death,\nas ye shall be permitted.\"\n\nThe weakness of exhausted passion caused her steps to totter as she\ndescended the pulpit stairs. The people, in the meanwhile, were stirring\nto and fro on the floor of the house, whispering among themselves, and\nglancing toward the intruder. Many of them now recognized her as the\nwoman who had assaulted the governor with frightful language, as he\npassed by the window of her prison; they knew, also, that she was\nadjudged to suffer death, and had been preserved only by an involuntary\nbanishment into the wilderness. The new outrage, by which she had\nprovoked her fate, seemed to render further lenity impossible; and a\ngentleman in military dress, with a stout man of inferior rank, drew\ntoward the door of the meeting-house, and awaited her approach. Scarcely\ndid her feet press the floor, however, when an unexpected scene\noccurred. In that moment of her peril, when every eye frowned with\ndeath, a little timid boy pressed forth, and threw his arms round his\nmother.\n\n\"I am here, mother, it is I, and I will go with thee to prison,\" he\nexclaimed.\n\nShe gazed at him with a doubtful and almost frightened expression, for\nshe knew that the boy had been cast out to perish, and she had not hoped\nto see his face again. She feared, perhaps, that it was but one of the\nhappy visions, with which her excited fancy had often deceived her, in\nthe solitude of the desert or in prison. But when she felt his hand warm\nwithin her own, and heard his little eloquence of childish love, she\nbegan to know that she was yet a mother.\n\n\"Blessed art thou, my son,\" she sobbed. \"My heart was withered; yea,\ndead with thee and with thy father; and now it leaps as in the first\nmoment when I pressed thee to my bosom.\"\n\nShe kneeled down and embraced him again and again, while the joy that\ncould find no words expressed itself in broken accents, like the bubbles\ngushing up to vanish at the surface of a deep fountain. The sorrows of\npast years, and the darker peril that was nigh, cast not a shadow on the\nbrightness of that fleeting moment. Soon, however, the spectators saw a\nchange upon her face, as the consciousness of her sad estate returned,\nand grief supplied the fount of tears which joy had opened. By the words\nshe uttered, it would seem that the indulgence of natural love had given\nher mind a momentary sense of its errors, and made her know how far she\nhad strayed from duty, in following the dictates of a wild fanaticism.\n\n\"In a doleful hour art thou returned to me, poor boy,\" she said, \"for\nthy mother's path has gone darkening onward, till now the end is death.\nSon, son, I have borne thee in my arms when my limbs were tottering, and\nI have fed thee with the food that I was fainting for; yet I have ill\nperformed a mother's part by thee in life, and now I leave thee no\ninheritance but woe and shame. Thou wilt go seeking through the world,\nand find all hearts closed against thee, and their sweet affections\nturned to bitterness for my sake. My child, my child, how many a pang\nawaits thy gentle spirit and I the cause of all!\"\n\nShe hid her face on Ilbrahim's head, and her long raven hair, discolored\nwith the ashes of her mourning, fell down about him like a veil. A low\nand interrupted moan was the voice of her heart's anguish, and it did\nnot fail to move the sympathies of many who mistook their involuntary\nvirtue for a sin. Sobs were audible in the female section of the house,\nand every man who was a father drew his hand across his eyes. Tobias\nPearson was agitated and uneasy, but a certain feeling like the\nconsciousness of guilt oppressed him, so that he could not go forth and\noffer himself as the protector of the child. Dorothy, however, had\nwatched her husband's eye. Her mind was free from the influence that had\nbegun to work on his, and she drew near the Quaker woman, and addressed\nher in the hearing of all the congregation.\n\n\"Stranger, trust this boy to me, and I will be his mother,\" she said,\ntaking Ilbrahim's hand. \"Providence has signally marked out my husband\nto protect him, and he has fed at our table and lodged under our roof,\nnow many days, till our hearts have grown very strongly unto him. Leave\nthe tender child with us, and be at ease concerning his welfare.\"\n\nThe Quaker rose from the ground, but drew the boy closer to her, while\nshe gazed earnestly in Dorothy's face. Her mild, but saddened features,\nand neat matronly attire harmonized together, and were like a verse of\nfireside poetry. Her very aspect proved that she was blameless, so far\nas mortal could be so, in respect to God and man; while the enthusiast,\nin her robe of sackcloth and girdle of knotted cord, had as evidently\nviolated the duties of the present life and the future, by fixing her\nattention wholly on the latter. The two females, as they held each a\nhand of Ilbrahim, formed a practical allegory; it was rational piety and\nunbridled fanaticism contending for the empire of a young heart.\n\n\"Thou art not of our people,\" said the Quaker, mournfully.\n\n\"No, we are not of your people,\" replied Dorothy, with mildness, \"but we\nare Christians, looking upward to the same Heaven with you. Doubt not\nthat your boy shall meet you there, if there be a blessing on our tender\nand prayerful guidance of him. Thither, I trust, my own children have\ngone before me, for I also have been a mother; I am no longer so,\" she\nadded, in a faltering tone, \"and your son will have all my care.\"\n\n\"But will ye lead him in the path which his parents have trodden?\"\ndemanded the Quaker. \"Can ye teach him the enlightened faith which his\nfather has died for, and for which I, even I, am soon to become an\nunworthy martyr? The boy has been baptized in blood; will ye keep the\nmark fresh and ruddy upon his forehead?\"\n\n\"I will not deceive you,\" answered Dorothy. \"If your child become our\nchild, we must breed him up in the instruction which Heaven has imparted\nto us; we must pray for him the prayers of our own faith; we must do\ntoward him according to the dictates of our own consciences, and not of\nyours. Were we to act otherwise, we should abuse your trust, even in\ncomplying with your wishes.\"\n\nThe mother looked down upon her boy with a troubled countenance, and\nthen turned her eyes upward to Heaven. She seemed to pray internally,\nand the contention of her soul was evident.\n\n\"Friend,\" she said at length to Dorothy, \"I doubt not that my son shall\nreceive all earthly tenderness at thy hands. Nay, I will believe that\neven thy imperfect lights may guide him to a better world; for surely\nthou art on the path thither. But thou hast spoken of a husband. Doth he\nstand here among this multitude of people? Let him come forth, for I\nmust know to whom I commit this most precious trust.\"\n\nShe turned her face upon the male auditors, and after a momentary delay,\nTobias Pearson came forth from among them. The Quaker saw the dress\nwhich marked his military rank, and shook her head; but then she noted\nthe hesitating air, the eyes that struggled with her own, and were\nvanquished; the color that went and came, and could find no\nresting-place. As she gazed, an unmirthful smile spread over her\nfeatures, like sunshine that grows melancholy in some desolate spot.\nHer lips moved inaudibly, but at length she spake.\n\n\"I hear it, I hear it. The voice speaketh within me and saith, 'Leave\nthy child, Catharine, for his place is here, and go hence, for I have\nother work for thee. Break the bonds of natural affection, martyr thy\nlove, and know that in all these things eternal wisdom hath its ends.' I\ngo, friends, I go. Take ye my boy, my precious jewel. I go hence,\ntrusting that all shall be well, and that even for his infant hands\nthere is a labor in the vineyard.\"\n\nShe knelt down and whispered to Ilbrahim, who at first struggled and\nclung to his mother, with sobs and tears, but remained passive when she\nhad kissed his cheek and arisen from the ground. Having held her hands\nover his head in mental prayer, she was ready to depart.\n\n\"Farewell, friends in mine extremity,\" she said to Pearson and his wife;\n\"the good deed ye have done me is a treasure laid up in Heaven, to be\nreturned a thousand-fold hereafter. And farewell ye, mine enemies, to\nwhom it is not permitted to harm so much as a hair of my head, nor to\nstay my footsteps even for a moment. The day is coming when ye shall\ncall upon me to witness for ye to this one sin uncommitted, and I will\nrise up and answer.\"\n\nShe turned her steps toward the door, and the men, who had stationed\nthemselves to guard it, withdrew, and suffered her to pass. A general\nsentiment of pity overcame the virulence of religious hatred.\nSanctified by her love and her affliction, she went forth, and all the\npeople gazed after her till she had journeyed up the hill, and was lost\nbehind its brow. She went, the apostle of her own unquiet heart, to\nrenew the wanderings of past years. For her voice had been already heard\nin many lands of Christendom; and she had pined in the cells of a\nCatholic Inquisition before she felt the lash and lay in the dungeons of\nthe Puritans. Her mission had extended also to the followers of the\nProphet, and from them she had received the courtesy and kindness which\nall the contending sects of our purer religion united to deny her. Her\nhusband and herself had resided many months in Turkey, where even the\nSultan's countenance was gracious to them; in that pagan land, too, was\nIlbrahim's birthplace, and his Oriental name was a mark of gratitude for\nthe good deeds of an unbeliever.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen Pearson and his wife had thus acquired all the rights over Ilbrahim\nthat could be delegated, their affection for him became, like the memory\nof their native land, or their mild sorrow for the dead, a piece of the\nimmovable furniture of their hearts. The boy, also, after a week or two\nof mental disquiet, began to gratify his protectors, by many inadvertent\nproofs that he considered them as parents, and their house as home.\nBefore the winter snows were melted, the persecuted infant, the little\nwanderer from a remote and heathen country, seemed native in the New\nEngland cottage, and inseparable from the warmth and security of its\nhearth. Under the influence of kind treatment, and in the consciousness\nthat he was loved, Ilbrahim's demeanor lost a premature manliness which\nhad resulted from his earlier situation; he became more childlike, and\nhis natural character displayed itself with freedom. It was in many\nrespects a beautiful one, yet the disordered imaginations of both his\nfather and mother had perhaps propagated a certain unhealthiness in the\nmind of the boy. In his general state, Ilbrahim would derive enjoyment\nfrom the most trifling events, and from every object about him; he\nseemed to discover rich treasures of happiness, by a faculty analogous\nto that of the witch-hazel, which points to hidden gold where all is\nbarren to the eye. His airy gayety, coming to him from a thousand\nsources, communicated itself to the family, and Ilbrahim was like a\ndomesticated sunbeam, brightening moody countenances, and chasing away\nthe gloom from the dark corners of the cottage.\n\nOn the other hand, as the susceptibility of pleasure is also that of\npain, the exuberant cheerfulness of the boy's prevailing temper\nsometimes yielded to moments of deep depression. His sorrows could not\nalways be followed up to their original source, but most frequently they\nappeared to flow, though Ilbrahim was young to be sad for such a cause,\nfrom wounded love. The flightiness of his mirth rendered him often\nguilty of offences against the decorum of a Puritan household, and on\nthese occasions he did not invariably escape rebuke. But the slightest\nword of real bitterness, which he was infallible in distinguishing from\npretended anger, seemed to sink into his heart and poison all his\nenjoyments, till he became sensible that he was entirely forgiven. Of\nthe malice which generally accompanies a superfluity of sensitiveness,\nIlbrahim was altogether destitute; when trodden upon, he would not turn;\nwhen wounded, he could but die. His mind was wanting in the stamina for\nself-support; it was a plant that would twine beautifully round\nsomething stronger than itself, but if repulsed, or torn away, it had no\nchoice but to wither on the ground. Dorothy's acuteness taught her that\nseverity would crush the spirit of the child, and she nurtured him with\nthe gentle care of one who handles a butterfly. Her husband manifested\nan equal affection, although it grew daily less productive of familiar\ncaresses.\n\nThe feelings of the neighboring people, in regard to the Quaker infant\nand his protectors, had not undergone a favorable change, in spite of\nthe momentary triumph which the desolate mother had obtained over their\nsympathies. The scorn and bitterness, of which he was the object, were\nvery grievous to Ilbrahim, especially when any circumstance made him\nsensible that the children, his equals in age, partook of the enmity of\ntheir parents. His tender and social nature had already overflowed in\nattachments to everything about him, and still there was a residue of\nunappropriated love, which he yearned to bestow upon the little ones who\nwere taught to hate him. As the warm days of spring came on, Ilbrahim\nwas accustomed to remain for hours silent and inactive within hearing\nof the children's voices at their play; yet, with his usual delicacy of\nfeeling, he avoided their notice, and would flee and hide himself from\nthe smallest individual among them. Chance, however, at length seemed to\nopen a medium of communication between his heart and theirs; it was by\nmeans of a boy about two years older than Ilbrahim, who was injured by a\nfall from a tree in the vicinity of Pearson's habitation. As the\nsufferer's own home was at some distance, Dorothy willingly received him\nunder her roof, and became his tender and careful nurse.\n\nIlbrahim was the unconscious possessor of much skill in physiognomy, and\nit would have deterred him, in other circumstances, from attempting to\nmake a friend of this boy. The countenance of the latter immediately\nimpressed a beholder disagreeably, but it required some examination to\ndiscover that the cause was a very slight distortion of the mouth, and\nthe irregular, broken line and near approach of the eyebrows. Analogous,\nperhaps, to these trifling deformities was an almost imperceptible twist\nof every joint, and the uneven prominence of the breast; forming a body,\nregular in its general outline, but faulty in almost all its details.\nThe disposition of the boy was sullen and reserved, and the village\nschoolmaster stigmatized him as obtuse in intellect; although, at a\nlater period of life, he evinced ambition and very peculiar talents. But\nwhatever might be his personal or moral irregularities, Ilbrahim's heart\nseized upon, and clung to him, from the moment that he was brought\nwounded into the cottage; the child of persecution seemed to compare\nhis own fate with that of the sufferer, and to feel that even different\nmodes of misfortune had created a sort of relationship between them.\nFood, rest, and the fresh air, for which he languished, were neglected;\nhe nestled continually by the bedside of the little stranger, and, with\na fond jealousy, endeavored to be the medium of all the cares that were\nbestowed upon him. As the boy became convalescent, Ilbrahim contrived\ngames suitable to his situation, or amused him by a faculty which he had\nperhaps breathed in with the air of his barbaric birthplace. It was that\nof reciting imaginary adventures, on the spur of the moment, and\napparently in inexhaustible succession. His tales were of course\nmonstrous, disjointed, and without aim; but they were curious on account\nof a vein of human tenderness which ran through them all, and was like a\nsweet, familiar face, encountered in the midst of wild and unearthly\nscenery. The auditor paid much attention to these romances, and\nsometimes interrupted them by brief remarks upon the incidents,\ndisplaying shrewdness above his years, mingled with a moral obliquity\nwhich grated very harshly against Ilbrahim's instinctive rectitude.\nNothing, however, could arrest the progress of the latter's affection,\nand there were many proofs that it met with a response from the dark and\nstubborn nature on which it was lavished. The boy's parents at length\nremoved him, to complete his cure under their own roof.\n\nIlbrahim did not visit his new friend after his departure; but he made\nanxious and continual inquiries respecting him, and informed himself of\nthe day when he was to reappear among his playmates. On a pleasant\nsummer afternoon, the children of the neighborhood had assembled in the\nlittle forest-crowned amphitheatre behind the meeting-house, and the\nrecovering invalid was there, leaning on a staff. The glee of a score of\nuntainted bosoms was heard in light and airy voices, which danced among\nthe trees like sunshine become audible; the grown men of this weary\nworld, as they journeyed by the spot, marvelled why life, beginning in\nsuch brightness, should proceed in gloom; and their hearts, or their\nimaginations, answered them and said, that the bliss of childhood gushes\nfrom its innocence. But it happened that an unexpected addition was made\nto the heavenly little band. It was Ilbrahim, who came toward the\nchildren with a look of sweet confidence on his fair and spiritual face,\nas if, having manifested his love to one of them, he had no longer to\nfear a repulse from their society. A hush came over their mirth the\nmoment they beheld him, and they stood whispering to each other while he\ndrew nigh; but, all at once, the devil of their fathers entered into the\nunbreeched fanatics, and sending up a fierce, shrill cry, they rushed\nupon the poor Quaker child. In an instant, he was the centre of a brood\nof baby-fiends, who lifted sticks against him, pelted him with stones,\nand displayed an instinct of destruction far more loathsome than the\nblood-thirstiness of manhood.\n\nThe invalid, in the meanwhile, stood apart from the tumult, crying out\nwith a loud voice, \"Fear not, Ilbrahim, come hither and take my hand\";\nand his unhappy friend endeavored to obey him. After watching the\nvictim's struggling approach with a calm smile and unabashed eye, the\nfoul-hearted little villain lifted his staff, and struck Ilbrahim on the\nmouth, so forcibly that the blood issued in a stream. The poor child's\narms had been raised to guard his head from the storm of blows; but now\nhe dropped them at once. His persecutors beat him down, trampled upon\nhim, dragged him by his long, fair locks, and Ilbrahim was on the point\nof becoming as veritable a martyr as ever entered bleeding into heaven.\nThe uproar, however, attracted the notice of a few neighbors, who put\nthemselves to the trouble of rescuing the little heretic, and of\nconveying him to Pearson's door.\n\nIlbrahim's bodily harm was severe, but long and careful nursing\naccomplished his recovery; the injury done to his sensitive spirit was\nmore serious, though not so visible. Its signs were principally of a\nnegative character, and to be discovered only by those who had\npreviously known him. His gait was thenceforth slow, even, and unvaried\nby the sudden bursts of sprightlier motion, which had once corresponded\nto his overflowing gladness; his countenance was heavier, and its former\nplay of expression, the dance of sunshine reflected from moving water,\nwas destroyed by the cloud over his existence; his notice was attracted\nin a far less degree by passing events, and he appeared to find greater\ndifficulty in comprehending what was new to him, than at a happier\nperiod. A stranger, founding his judgment upon these circumstances,\nwould have said that the dulness of the child's intellect widely\ncontradicted the promise of his features; but the secret was in the\ndirection of Ilbrahim's thoughts, which were brooding within him when\nthey should naturally have been wandering abroad. An attempt of Dorothy\nto revive his former sportiveness was the single occasion on which his\nquiet demeanor yielded to a violent display of grief; he burst into\npassionate weeping, and ran and hid himself, for his heart had become so\nmiserably sore that even the hand of kindness tortured it like fire.\nSometimes, at night and probably in his dreams, he was heard to cry,\n\"Mother! mother!\" as if her place, which a stranger had supplied while\nIlbrahim was happy, admitted of no substitute in his extreme affliction.\nPerhaps, among the many life-weary wretches then upon the earth, there\nwas not one who combined innocence and misery like this poor,\nbroken-hearted infant, so soon the victim of his own heavenly nature.\n\nWhile this melancholy change had taken place in Ilbrahim, one of an\nearlier origin and of different character had come to its perfection in\nhis adopted father. The incident with which this tale commences found\nPearson in a state of religious dulness, yet mentally disquieted, and\nlonging for a more fervid faith than he possessed. The first effect of\nhis kindness to Ilbrahim was to produce a softened feeling, and\nincipient love for the child's whole sect; but joined to this, and\nresulting perhaps from self-suspicion, was a proud and ostentatious\ncontempt of their tenets and practical extravagances. In the course of\nmuch thought, however, for the subject struggled irresistibly into his\nmind, the foolishness of the doctrine began to be less evident, and the\npoints which had particularly offended his reason assumed another\naspect, or vanished entirely away. The work within him appeared to go on\neven while he slept, and that which had been a doubt, when he laid down\nto rest, would often hold the place of a truth, confirmed by some\nforgotten demonstration, when he recalled his thoughts in the morning.\nBut while he was thus becoming assimilated to the enthusiasts, his\ncontempt, in no wise decreasing toward them, grew very fierce against\nhimself; he imagined, also, that every face of his acquaintance wore a\nsneer, and that every word addressed to him was a gibe. Such was his\nstate of mind at the period of Ilbrahim's misfortune; and the emotions\nconsequent upon that event completed the change, of which the child had\nbeen the original instrument.\n\nIn the meantime, neither the fierceness of the persecutors, nor the\ninfatuation of their victims, had decreased. The dungeons were never\nempty; the streets of almost every village echoed daily with a lash; the\nlife of a woman, whose mild and Christian spirit no cruelty could\nimbitter, had been sacrificed; and more innocent blood was yet to\npollute the hands that were so often raised in prayer. Early after the\nRestoration, the English Quakers represented to Charles II. that a \"vein\nof blood was open in his dominions\"; but though the displeasure of the\nvoluptuous king was roused, his interference was not prompt. And now the\ntale must stride forward over many months, leaving Pearson to encounter\nignominy and misfortune; his wife to a firm endurance of a thousand\nsorrows; poor Ilbrahim to pine and droop like a cankered rosebud; his\nmother to wander on a mistaken errand, neglectful of the holiest trust\nwhich can be committed to a woman.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA winter evening, a night of storm, had darkened over Pearson's\nhabitation, and there were no cheerful faces to drive the gloom from his\nbroad hearth. The fire, it is true, sent forth a glowing heat and a\nruddy light, and large logs, dripping with half-melted snow, lay ready\nto be cast upon the embers. But the apartment was saddened in its aspect\nby the absence of much of the homely wealth which had once adorned it;\nfor the exaction of repeated fines, and his own neglect of temporal\naffairs, had greatly impoverished the owner. And with the furniture of\npeace, the implements of war had likewise disappeared; the sword was\nbroken, the helm and cuirass were cast away forever; the soldier had\ndone with battles, and might not lift so much as his naked hand to guard\nhis head. But the Holy Book remained, and the table on which it rested\nwas drawn before the fire, while two of the persecuted sect sought\ncomfort from its pages.\n\nHe who listened, while the other read, was the master of the house, now\nemaciated in form, and altered as to the expression and healthiness of\nhis countenance; for his mind had dwelt too long among visionary\nthoughts, and his body had been worn by imprisonment and stripes. The\nhale and weather-beaten old man, who sat beside him, had sustained less\ninjury from a far longer course of the same mode of life. In person he\nwas tall and dignified, and, which alone would have made him hateful to\nthe Puritans, his gray locks fell from beneath the broad-brimmed hat,\nand rested on his shoulders. As the old man read the sacred page, the\nsnow drifted against the windows, or eddied in at the crevices of the\ndoor, while a blast kept laughing in the chimney, and the blaze leaped\nfiercely up to seek it. And sometimes, when the wind struck the hill at\na certain angle, and swept down by the cottage across the wintry plain,\nits voice was the most doleful that can be conceived; it came as if the\nPast were speaking, as if the Dead had contributed each a whisper, as if\nthe Desolation of Ages were breathed in that one lamenting sound.\n\nThe Quaker at length closed the book, retaining however his hand between\nthe pages which he had been reading, while he looked steadfastly at\nPearson. The attitude and features of the latter might have indicated\nthe endurance of bodily pain; he leaned his forehead on his hands, his\nteeth were firmly closed, and his frame was tremulous at intervals with\na nervous agitation.\n\n\"Friend Tobias,\" inquired the old man, compassionately, \"hast thou found\nno comfort in these many blessed passages of Scripture?\"\n\n\"Thy voice has fallen on my ear like a sound afar off and indistinct,\"\nreplied Pearson, without lifting his eyes. \"Yea, and when I have\nhearkened carefully, the words seemed cold and lifeless, and intended\nfor another and a lesser grief than mine. Remove the book,\" he added, in\na tone of sullen bitterness. \"I have no part in its consolations, and\nthey do but fret my sorrow the more.\"\n\n\"Nay, feeble brother, be not as one who hath never known the light,\"\nsaid the elder Quaker, earnestly, but with mildness. \"Art thou he that\nwouldst be content to give all, and endure all, for conscience' sake;\ndesiring even peculiar trials, that thy faith might be purified, and thy\nheart weaned from worldly desires? And wilt thou sink beneath an\naffliction which happens alike to them that have their portion here\nbelow, and to them that lay up treasure in heaven? Faint not, for thy\nburden is yet light.\"\n\n\"It is heavy! It is heavier than I can bear!\" exclaimed Pearson, with\nthe impatience of a variable spirit. \"From my youth upward I have been a\nman marked out for wrath; and year by year, yea, day after day, I have\nendured sorrows, such as others know not in their lifetime. And now I\nspeak not of the love that has been turned to hatred, the honor to\nignominy, the ease and plentifulness of all things to danger, want, and\nnakedness. All this I could have borne, and counted myself blessed. But\nwhen my heart was desolate with many losses, I fixed it upon the child\nof a stranger, and he became dearer to me than all my buried ones; and\nnow he too must die, as if my love were poison. Verily, I am an\naccursed man, and I will lay me down in the dust, and lift up my head no\nmore.\"\n\n\"Thou sinnest, brother, but it is not for me to rebuke thee; for I also\nhave had my hours of darkness, wherein I have murmured against the\ncross,\" said the old Quaker. He continued, perhaps in the hope of\ndistracting his companion's thoughts from his own sorrows. \"Even of late\nwas the light obscured within me, when the men of blood had banished me\non pain of death, and the constables led me onward from village to\nvillage, toward the wilderness. A strong and cruel hand was wielding the\nknotted cords; they sunk deep into the flesh, and thou mightst have\ntracked every reel and totter of my footsteps by the blood that\nfollowed. As we went on--\"\n\n\"Have I not borne all this; and have I murmured?\" interrupted Pearson,\nimpatiently.\n\n\"Nay, friend, but hear me,\" continued the other. \"As we journeyed on,\nnight darkened on our path, so that no man could see the rage of the\npersecutors, or the constancy of my endurance, though Heaven forbid that\nI should glory therein. The lights began to glimmer in the cottage\nwindows, and I could discern the inmates as they gathered in comfort and\nsecurity, every man with his wife and children by their own evening\nhearth. At length we came to a tract of fertile land; in the dim light,\nthe forest was not visible around it; and behold! there was a\nstraw-thatched dwelling, which bore the very aspect of my home, far over\nthe wild ocean, far in our own England. Then came bitter thoughts upon\nme; yea, remembrances that were like death to my soul. The happiness of\nmy early days was painted to me; the disquiet of my manhood, the altered\nfaith of my declining years. I remembered how I had been moved to go\nforth a wanderer, when my daughter, the youngest, the dearest of my\nflock, lay on her dying bed, and--\"\n\n\"Couldst thou obey the command at such a moment?\" exclaimed Pearson,\nshuddering.\n\n\"Yea, yea,\" replied the old man, hurriedly. \"I was kneeling by her\nbedside when the voice spoke loud within me; but immediately I rose, and\ntook my staff, and gat me gone. O, that it were permitted me to forget\nher woful look, when I thus withdrew my arm, and left her journeying\nthrough the dark valley alone! for her soul was faint, and she had\nleaned upon my prayers. Now in that night of horror I was assailed by\nthe thought that I had been an erring Christian, and a cruel parent;\nyea, even my daughter, with her pale, dying features, seemed to stand by\nme and whisper, 'Father, you are deceived; go home and shelter your gray\nhead.' O Thou, to whom I have looked in my furthest wanderings,\"\ncontinued the Quaker, raising his agitated eyes to Heaven, \"inflict not\nupon the bloodiest of our persecutors the unmitigated agony of my soul,\nwhen I believed that all I had done and suffered for thee was at the\ninstigation of a mocking fiend! But I yielded not; I knelt down and\nwrestled with the tempter, while the scourge bit more fiercely into the\nflesh. My prayer was heard, and I went on in peace and joy toward the\nwilderness.\"\n\nThe old man, though his fanaticism had generally all the calmness of\nreason, was deeply moved while reciting this tale; and his unwonted\nemotion seemed to rebuke and keep down that of his companion. They sat\nin silence, with their faces to the fire, imagining perhaps, in its red\nembers, new scenes of persecution yet to be encountered. The snow still\ndrifted hard against the windows, and sometimes, as the blaze of the\nlogs had gradually sunk, came down the spacious chimney and hissed upon\nthe hearth. A cautious footstep might now and then be heard in a\nneighboring apartment, and the sound invariably drew the eyes of both\nQuakers to the door which led thither. When a fierce and riotous gust of\nwind had led his thoughts, by a natural association, to homeless\ntravellers on such a night, Pearson resumed the conversation.\n\n\"I have well-nigh sunk under my own share of this trial,\" observed he,\nsighing heavily; \"yet I would that it might be doubled to me, if so the\nchild's mother could be spared. Her wounds have been deep and many, but\nthis will be the sorest of all.\"\n\n\"Fear not for Catharine,\" replied the old Quaker, \"for I know that\nvaliant woman, and have seen how she can bear the cross. A mother's\nheart, indeed, is strong in her, and may seem to contend mightily with\nher faith; but soon she will stand up and give thanks that her son has\nbeen thus early an accepted sacrifice. The boy hath done his work, and\nshe will feel that he is taken hence in kindness both to him and her.\nBlessed, blessed are they that with so little suffering can enter into\npeace!\"\n\nThe fitful rush of the wind was now disturbed by a portentous sound; it\nwas a quick and heavy knocking at the outer door. Pearson's wan\ncountenance grew paler, for many a visit of persecution had taught him\nwhat to dread; the old man, on the other hand, stood up erect, and his\nglance was firm as that of the tried soldier who awaits his enemy.\n\n\"The men of blood have come to seek me,\" he observed, with calmness.\n\"They have heard how I was moved to return from banishment; and now am I\nto be led to prison, and thence to death. It is an end I have long\nlooked for. I will open unto them, lest they say, 'Lo, he feareth!'\"\n\n\"Nay, I will present myself before them,\" said Pearson, with recovered\nfortitude. \"It may be that they seek me alone, and know not that thou\nabidest with me.\"\n\n\"Let us go boldly, both one and the other,\" rejoined his companion. \"It\nis not fitting that thou or I should shrink.\"\n\nThey therefore proceeded through the entry to the door, which they\nopened, bidding the applicant, \"Come in, in God's name!\" A furious blast\nof wind drove the storm into their faces, and extinguished the lamp;\nthey had barely time to discern a figure, so white from head to foot\nwith the drifted snow, that it seemed like Winter's self, come in human\nshape to seek refuge from its own desolation.\n\n\"Enter, friend, and do thy errand, be it what it may,\" said Pearson. \"It\nmust needs be pressing, since thou comest on such a bitter night.\"\n\n\"Peace be with this household,\" said the stranger, when they stood on\nthe floor of the inner apartment.\n\nPearson started, the elder Quaker stirred the slumbering embers of the\nfire, till they sent up a clear and lofty blaze; it was a female voice\nthat had spoken; it was a female form that shone out, cold and wintry,\nin that comfortable light.\n\n\"Catharine, blessed woman,\" exclaimed the old man, \"art thou come to\nthis darkened land again? art thou come to bear a valiant testimony as\nin former years? The scourge hath not prevailed against thee, and from\nthe dungeon hast thou come forth triumphant; but strengthen, strengthen\nnow thy heart, Catharine, for Heaven will prove thee yet this once, ere\nthou go to thy reward.\"\n\n\"Rejoice, friends!\" she replied. \"Thou who hast long been of our people,\nand thou whom a little child hath led to us, rejoice! Lo! I come, the\nmessenger of glad tidings, for the day of persecution is overpast. The\nheart of the king, even Charles, hath been moved in gentleness toward\nus, and he hath sent forth his letters to stay the hands of the men of\nblood. A ship's company of our friends hath arrived at yonder town, and\nI also sailed joyfully among them.\"\n\nAs Catharine spoke, her eyes were roaming about the room, in search of\nhim for whose sake security was dear to her. Pearson made a silent\nappeal to the old man, nor did the latter shrink from the painful task\nassigned him.\n\n\"Sister,\" he began, in a softened yet perfectly calm tone, \"thou tellest\nus of His love, manifested in temporal good; and now must we speak to\nthee of that selfsame love, displayed in chastenings. Hitherto,\nCatharine, thou hast been as one journeying in a darksome and difficult\npath, and leading an infant by the hand; fain wouldst thou have looked\nheavenward continually, but still the cares of that little child have\ndrawn thine eyes and thy affections to the earth. Sister! go on\nrejoicing, for his tottering footsteps shall impede thine own no more.\"\n\nBut the unhappy mother was not thus to be consoled; she shook like a\nleaf, she turned white as the very snow that hung drifted into her hair.\nThe firm old man extended his hand and held her up, keeping his eye upon\nhers, as if to repress any outbreak of passion.\n\n\"I am a woman, I am but a woman; will He try me above my strength?\" said\nCatharine very quickly, and almost in a whisper. \"I have been wounded\nsore; I have suffered much; many things in the body, many in the mind;\ncrucified in myself, and in them that were dearest to me. Surely,\" added\nshe, with a long shudder, \"He hath spared me in this one thing.\" She\nbroke forth with sudden and irrepressible violence, \"Tell me, man of\ncold heart, what has God done to me? Hath he cast me down, never to rise\nagain? Hath he crushed my very heart in his hand? And thou, to whom I\ncommitted my child, how hast thou fulfilled thy trust? Give me back the\nboy, well, sound, alive, alive; or earth and Heaven shall avenge me!\"\n\nThe agonized shriek of Catharine was answered by the faint, the very\nfaint voice of a child.\n\nOn this day it had become evident to Pearson, to his aged guest, and to\nDorothy that Ilbrahim's brief and troubled pilgrimage drew near its\nclose. The two former would willingly have remained by him, to make use\nof the prayers and pious discourses which they deemed appropriate to the\ntime, and which, if they be impotent as to the departing traveller's\nreception in the world whither it goes, may at least sustain him in\nbidding adieu to earth. But though Ilbrahim uttered no complaint, he was\ndisturbed by the faces that looked upon him; so that Dorothy's\nentreaties, and their own conviction that the child's feet might tread\nheaven's pavement and not soil it, had induced the two Quakers to\nremove. Ilbrahim then closed his eyes and grew calm, and, except for now\nand then a kind and low word to his nurse, might have been thought to\nslumber. As nightfall came on, however, and the storm began to rise,\nsomething seemed to trouble the repose of the boy's mind, and to render\nhis sense of hearing active and acute. If a passing wind lingered to\nshake the casement, he strove to turn his head toward it; if the door\njarred to and fro upon its hinges, he looked long and anxiously\nthitherward; if the heavy voice of the old man, as he read the\nScriptures, rose but a little higher, the child almost held his dying\nbreath to listen; if a snowdrift swept by the cottage, with a sound like\nthe trailing of a garment, Ilbrahim seemed to watch that some visitant\nshould enter.\n\nBut, after a little time, he relinquished whatever secret hope had\nagitated him, and, with one low, complaining whisper, turned his cheek\nupon the pillow. He then addressed Dorothy with his usual sweetness, and\nbesought her to draw near him; she did so, and Ilbrahim took her hand in\nboth of his, grasping it with a gentle pressure, as if to assure himself\nthat he retained it. At intervals, and without disturbing the repose of\nhis countenance, a very faint trembling passed over him from head to\nfoot, as if a mild but somewhat cool wind had breathed upon him, and\nmade him shiver. As the boy thus led her by the hand, in his quiet\nprogress over the borders of eternity, Dorothy almost imagined that she\ncould discern the near, though dim delightfulness of the home he was\nabout to reach; she would not have enticed the little wanderer back,\nthough she bemoaned herself that she must leave him and return. But just\nwhen Ilbrahim's feet were pressing on the soil of Paradise, he heard a\nvoice behind him, and it recalled him a few, few paces of the weary path\nwhich he had travelled. As Dorothy looked upon his features, she\nperceived that their placid expression was again disturbed; her own\nthoughts had been so wrapped in him, that all sounds of the storm, and\nof human speech, were lost to her; but when Catharine's shriek pierced\nthrough the room, the boy strove to raise himself.\n\n\"Friend, she is come! Open unto her!\" cried he.\n\nIn a moment, his mother was kneeling by the bedside; she drew Ilbrahim\nto her bosom, and he nestled there, with no violence of joy, but\ncontentedly, as if he were hushing himself to sleep. He looked into her\nface, and, reading its agony, said, with feeble earnestness, \"Mourn not,\ndearest mother. I am happy now.\" And with these words, the gentle boy\nwas dead.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe king's mandate to stay the New England persecutors was effectual in\npreventing further martyrdoms; but the colonial authorities, trusting in\nthe remoteness of their situation, and perhaps in the supposed\ninstability of the royal government, shortly renewed their severities in\nall other respects. Catharine's fanaticism had become wilder by the\nsundering of all human ties; and wherever a scourge was lifted, there\nwas she to receive the blow; and whenever a dungeon was unbarred,\nthither she came, to cast herself upon the floor. But in process of\ntime, a more Christian spirit--a spirit of forbearance, though not of\ncordiality or approbation--began to pervade the land in regard to the\npersecuted sect. And then, when the rigid old Pilgrims eyed her rather\nin pity than in wrath; when the matrons fed her with the fragments of\ntheir children's food, and offered her a lodging on a hard and lowly\nbed; when no little crowd of schoolboys left their sports to cast stones\nafter the roving enthusiast--then did Catharine return to Pearson's\ndwelling, and made that her home.\n\nAs if Ilbrahim's sweetness yet lingered round his ashes, as if his\ngentle spirit came down from heaven to teach his parent a true religion,\nher fierce and vindictive nature was softened by the same griefs which\nhad once irritated it. When the course of years had made the features of\nthe unobtrusive mourner familiar in the settlement, she became a subject\nof not deep, but general interest; a being on whom the otherwise\nsuperfluous sympathies of all might be bestowed. Every one spoke of her\nwith that degree of pity which it is pleasant to experience, every one\nwas ready to do her the little kindnesses, which are not costly, yet\nmanifest good-will; and when at last she died, a long train of her once\nbitter persecutors followed her, with decent sadness and tears that were\nnot painful, to her place by Ilbrahim's green and sunken grave.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ANGEL\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nWhenever a good child dies, an angel from heaven comes down to earth,\nand takes the dead child in his arms, spreads out his great white wings,\nand flies away over all the places the child has loved, and picks quite\na handful of flowers, which he carries up to the Almighty, that they may\nbloom in heaven more brightly than on earth. And the Father presses all\nthe flowers to His heart; but He kisses the flower that pleases him\nbest, and the flower is then endowed with a voice, and can join in the\ngreat chorus of praise!\n\n\"See\"--this is what an angel said, as he carried a dead child up to\nheaven, and the child heard, as if in a dream, and they went on over the\nregions of home where the little child had played, and they came through\ngardens with beautiful flowers--\"which of these shall we take with us to\nplant in heaven?\" asked the angel.\n\nNow there stood near them a slender, beautiful rose bush; but a wicked\nhand had broken the stem, so that all the branches, covered with\nhalf-opened buds, were hanging drooping around, quite withered.\n\n\"The poor rose bush!\" said the child. \"Take it, that it may bloom up\nyonder.\"\n\nAnd the angel took it, and kissed the child, and the little one half\nopened his eyes. They plucked some of the rich flowers, but also took\nwith them the despised buttercup and the wild pansy.\n\n\"Now we have flowers,\" said the child.\n\nAnd the angel nodded, but he did not yet fly upward to heaven. It was\nnight and quite silent. They remained in the great city; they floated\nabout there in a small street, where lay whole heaps of straw, ashes,\nand sweepings, for it had been removal-day. There lay fragments of\nplates, bits of plaster, rags, and old hats, and all this did not look\nwell. And the angel pointed amid all this confusion to a few fragments\nof a flower-pot, and to a lump of earth which had fallen out, and which\nwas kept together by the roots of a great dried field flower, which was\nof no use, and had therefore been thrown out into the street.\n\n\"We will take that with us,\" said the angel. \"I will tell you why, as we\nfly onward.\n\n\"Down yonder in the narrow lane, in the low cellar, lived a poor sick\nboy; from his childhood he had been bedridden. When he was at his best\nhe could go up and down the room a few times, leaning on crutches; that\nwas the utmost he could do. For a few days in summer the sunbeams would\npenetrate for a few hours to the ground of the cellar, and when the poor\nboy sat there and the sun shone on him, and he looked at the red blood\nin his three fingers, as he held them up before his face, he would say,\n'Yes, to-day he has been out.' He knew the forest with its beautiful\nvernal green only from the fact that the neighbor's son brought him the\nfirst green branch of a beech-tree, and he held that up over his head,\nand dreamed he was in the beech wood where the sun shone and the birds\nsang. On a spring day the neighbor's boy also brought him field flowers,\nand among these was, by chance, one to which the root was hanging; and\nso it was planted in a flower-pot, and placed by the bed, close to the\nwindow. And the flower had been planted by a fortunate hand; and it\ngrew, threw out new shoots, and bore flowers every year. It became as a\nsplendid flower-garden to the sickly boy--his little treasure here on\nearth. He watered it, and tended it, and took care that it had the\nbenefit of every ray of sunlight, down to the last that struggled in\nthrough the narrow window; and the flower itself was woven into his\ndreams, for it grew for him and gladdened his eyes, and spread its\nfragrance about him; and toward it he turned in death when the Father\ncalled him. He has now been with the Almighty for a year; for a year the\nflower has stood forgotten in the window, and is withered; and thus, at\nthe removal, it has been thrown out into the dust of the street. And\nthis is the flower, the poor withered flower, which we have taken into\nour nosegay; for this flower has given more joy than the richest flower\nin a Queen's garden!\"\n\n\"But how do you know all this?\" asked the child which the angel was\ncarrying to heaven.\n\n\"I know it,\" said the angel, \"for I myself was that little boy who\nwalked on crutches! I know my flower well!\"\n\nAnd the child opened his eyes and looked into the glorious, happy face\nof the angel; and at the same moment they entered the regions where\nthere is peace and joy. And the Father pressed the dead child to His\nbosom, and then it received wings like the angel, and flew hand in hand\nwith him. And the Almighty pressed all the flowers to His heart; but He\nkissed the dry withered field flower, and it received a voice and sang\nwith all the angels hovering around--some near, and some in wider\ncircles, and some in infinite distance, but all equally happy. And they\nall sang, little and great, the good happy child, and the poor field\nflower that had lain there withered, thrown among the dust, in the\nrubbish of the removal-day, in the narrow, dark lane.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RED SHOES\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nThere once was a little girl; a very nice pretty little girl. But in\nsummer she had to go barefoot, because she was poor, and in winter she\nwore thick wooden shoes, so that her little instep became quite red,\naltogether red.\n\nIn the middle of the village lived an old shoemaker's wife; she sat, and\nsewed, as well as she could, a pair of little shoes, of old strips of\nred cloth; they were clumsy enough, but well meant, and the little girl\nwas to have them. The little girl's name was Karen.\n\nOn the day when her mother was buried she received the red shoes and\nwore them for the first time. They were certainly not suited for\nmourning; but she had no others, and therefore thrust her little bare\nfeet into them and walked behind the plain deal coffin.\n\nSuddenly a great carriage came by, and in the carriage sat an old lady;\nshe looked at the little girl and felt pity for her and said to the\nclergyman:\n\n\"Give me the little girl and I will provide for her.\"\n\nKaren thought this was for the sake of the shoes; but the old lady\ndeclared they were hideous; and they were burned. But Karen herself was\nclothed neatly and properly: she was taught to read and to sew, and the\npeople said she was agreeable. But her mirror said, \"You are much more\nthan agreeable; you are beautiful.\"\n\nOnce the Queen travelled through the country, and had her little\ndaughter with her; and the daughter was a Princess. And the people\nflocked toward the castle, and Karen too was among them; and the little\nPrincess stood in a fine white dress at a window, and let herself be\ngazed at. She had neither train nor golden crown, but she wore splendid\nred morocco shoes; they were certainly far handsomer than those the\nshoemaker's wife had made for little Karen. Nothing in the world can\ncompare with red shoes!\n\nNow Karen was old enough to be confirmed: new clothes were made for her,\nand she was to have new shoes. The rich shoemaker in the town took the\nmeasure of her little feet; this was done in his own house, in his\nlittle room, and there stood great glass cases with neat shoes and\nshining boots. It had quite a charming appearance, but the old lady\ncould not see well, and therefore took no pleasure in it. Among the\nshoes stood a red pair, just like those which the princess had worn. How\nbeautiful they were! The shoemaker also said they had been made for a\nCount's child, but they had not fitted.\n\n\"That must be patent leather,\" observed the old lady, \"the shoes shine\nso!\"\n\n\"Yes, they shine!\" replied Karen; and they fitted her, and were bought.\nBut the old lady did not know that they were red; for she would never\nhave allowed Karen to go to the confirmation in red shoes; and that is\nwhat Karen did.\n\nEvery one was looking at her shoes. And when she went across the church\nporch, toward the door of the choir, it seemed to her as if the old\npictures on the tombstones, the portraits of clergymen and clergymen's\nwives, in their stiff collars and long black garments, fixed their eyes\nupon her red shoes. And she thought of her shoes only, when the priest\nlaid his hand upon her head and spoke holy words. And the organ pealed\nsolemnly, the children sang with their fresh sweet voices, and the old\npreceptor sang too; but Karen thought only of her red shoes.\n\nIn the afternoon the old lady was informed by everyone that the shoes\nwere red; and she said it was naughty and unsuitable, and that when\nKaren went to church in future, she should always go in black shoes,\neven if they were old.\n\nNext Sunday was sacrament Sunday. And Karen looked at the black shoes,\nand looked at the red ones--looked at them again--and put on the red\nones.\n\nThe sun shone gloriously; Karen and the old lady went along the footpath\nthrough the fields, and it was rather dusty.\n\nBy the church door stood an old invalid soldier with a crutch and a long\nbeard; the beard was rather red than white, for it was red altogether;\nand he bowed down almost to the ground, and asked the old lady if he\nmight dust her shoes. And Karen also stretched out her little foot.\n\n\"Look, what pretty dancing shoes!\" said the old soldier. \"Fit so\ntightly when you dance!\"\n\nAnd he tapped the soles with his hand. And the old lady gave the soldier\nan alms, and went into the church with Karen.\n\nAnd every one in the church looked at Karen's red shoes, and all the\npictures looked at them. And while Karen knelt in the church she only\nthought of her red shoes; and she forgot to sing her psalm, and forgot\nto say her prayer.\n\nNow all the people went out of church, and the old lady stepped into her\ncarriage. Karen lifted up her foot to step in too; then the old soldier\nsaid:\n\n\"Look, what beautiful dancing shoes!\"\n\nAnd Karen could not resist: she was obliged to dance a few steps; and\nwhen she once began, her legs went on dancing. It was just as though the\nshoes had obtained power over her. She danced round the corner of the\nchurch--she could not help it; the coachman was obliged to run behind\nher and seize her; he lifted her into the carriage, but her feet went on\ndancing, so that she kicked the good old lady violently. At last they\ntook off her shoes, and her legs became quiet.\n\nAt home the shoes were put away in a cupboard; but Karen could not\nresist looking at them.\n\nNow the old lady became very ill, and it was said she would not recover.\nShe had to be nursed, and waited on: and this was no one's duty so much\nas Karen's. But there was to be a great ball in the town, and Karen was\ninvited. She looked at the old lady who could not recover; she looked\nat the red shoes, and thought there would be no harm in it. She put on\nthe shoes, and that she might very well do; but they went to the ball\nand began to dance.\n\nBut when she wished to go to the right hand, the shoes danced to the\nleft, and when she wanted to go upstairs the shoes danced downward, down\ninto the street and out at the town gate. She danced, and was obliged to\ndance, till she danced straight out into the dark wood.\n\nThere was something glistening up among the trees, and she thought it\nwas the moon, for she saw a face. But it was the old soldier with the\nred beard: he sat and nodded, and said:\n\n\"Look, what beautiful dancing-shoes!\"\n\nThen she was frightened, and wanted to throw away the red shoes; but\nthey clung fast to her. And she tore off her stockings; but the shoes\nhad grown fast to her feet. And she danced and was compelled to go\ndancing over field and meadow, in rain and sunshine, by night and by\nday; but it was most dreadful at night.\n\nShe danced out into the open churchyard; but the dead there do not\ndance; they have far better things to do. She wished to sit down on the\npoor man's grave, where the bitter fern grows; but there was no peace\nnor rest for her. And when she danced toward the open church door, she\nsaw there an angel in long white garments, with wings that reached from\nhis shoulders to his feet; his countenance was serious and stern, and\nin his hand he held a sword that was broad and gleaming.\n\n\"Thou shalt dance!\" he said--\"dance on thy red shoes, till thou art pale\nand cold, and till thy body shrivels to a skeleton. Thou shalt dance\nfrom door to door, and where proud, haughty children dwell, shalt thou\nknock, that they may hear thee, and be afraid of thee! Thou shalt dance,\ndance!\"\n\n\"Mercy!\" cried Karen.\n\nBut she did not hear what the angel answered, for the shoes carried her\naway--carried her through the door on to the field, over stock and\nstone, and she was always obliged to dance.\n\nOne morning she danced past a door which she knew well. There was a\nsound of psalm-singing within, and a coffin was carried out, adorned\nwith flowers. Then she knew that the old lady was dead, and she felt\nthat she was deserted by all, and condemned by the angel of heaven.\n\nShe danced, and was compelled to dance--to dance in the dark night. The\nshoes carried her on over thorn and brier; she scratched herself till\nshe bled; she danced away across the heath to a little lonely house.\nHere she knew the executioner dwelt; and she tapped with her fingers on\nthe panes, and called:\n\n\"Come out, come out! I cannot come in for I must dance!\"\n\nAnd the executioner said:\n\n\"You probably don't know who I am? I cut off the bad people's heads\nwith my axe, and mark how my axe rings!\"\n\n\"Do not strike off my head,\" said Karen, \"for if you do I cannot repent\nof my sin. But strike off my feet with the red shoes!\"\n\nAnd then she confessed all her sin, and the executioner cut off her feet\nwith the red shoes; but the shoes danced away with the little feet over\nthe fields and into the deep forest.\n\nAnd he cut her a pair of wooden feet, with crutches, and taught her a\npsalm, which the criminals always sing; and she kissed the hand that had\nheld the axe, and went away across the heath.\n\n\"Now I have suffered pain enough for the red shoes,\" said she. \"Now I\nwill go into the church, that they may see me.\"\n\nAnd she went quickly toward the church door, but when she came there the\nred shoes danced before her, so that she was frightened, and turned\nback.\n\nThe whole week through she was sorrowful, and wept many bitter tears;\nbut when Sunday came she said:\n\n\"Now I have suffered and striven enough! I think that I am just as good\nas many of those who sit in the church and carry their heads high.\"\n\nAnd then she went boldly on; but she did not get further than the\nchurchyard gate before she saw the red shoes dancing along before her;\nthen she was seized with terror, and turned back, and repented of her\nsin right heartily.\n\nAnd she went to the parsonage, and begged to be taken there as a\nservant. She promised to be industrious, and to do all she could; she\ndid not care for wages, and only wished to be under a roof and with good\npeople. The clergyman's wife pitied her, and took her into her service.\nAnd she was industrious and thoughtful. Silently she sat and listened\nwhen in the evening the pastor read the Bible aloud. All the little ones\nwere very fond of her; but when they spoke of dress and splendor and\nbeauty, she would shake her head.\n\nNext Sunday they all went to church, and she was asked if she wished to\ngo too, but she looked sadly, with tears in her eyes, at her crutches.\nAnd then the others went to hear God's word; but she went alone into her\nlittle room, which was only large enough to contain her bed and a chair.\nAnd here she sat with her hymn-book; and as she read it with a pious\nmind, the wind bore the notes of the organ over to her from the church;\nand she lifted up her face, wet with tears, and said:\n\n\"O Lord, help me!\"\n\nThen the sun shone so brightly; and before her stood the angel in the\nwhite garments, the same as she had seen that night at the church door.\nBut he no longer grasped the sharp sword; he held a green branch covered\nwith roses; and he touched the ceiling, and it rose up high, and\nwherever he touched it a golden star gleamed forth; and he touched the\nwalls, and they spread forth widely, and she saw the organ which was\npealing its rich sounds; and she saw the old pictures of clergymen and\ntheir wives; and the congregation sat in the decorated seats, and sang\nfrom their hymn-books. The church had come to the poor girl in her\nnarrow room, or her chamber had become a church. She sat in the chair\nwith the rest of the clergyman's people; and when they had finished the\npsalm, and looked up, they nodded and said:\n\n\"That was right that you came here, Karen.\"\n\n\"It was mercy!\" said she.\n\nAnd the organ sounded its glorious notes; and the children's voices\nsinging in the chorus sounded sweet and lovely; the clear sunshine\nstreamed so warm through the window upon the chair in which Karen sat;\nand her heart became so filled with sunshine, peace, and joy, that it\nbroke. Her soul flew on the sunbeams to heaven; and there was nobody who\nasked after the RED SHOES.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LOVLIEST ROSE IN THE WORLD\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nOnce there reigned a Queen, in whose garden were found the most glorious\nflowers at all seasons and from all the lands in the world; but\nespecially she loved roses, and therefore she possessed the most various\nkinds of this flower, from the wild dog-rose, with the apple-scented\ngreen leaves, to the most splendid Provence rose. They grew against the\nearth walls, wound themselves round pillars and window-frames, into the\npassages, and all along the ceiling in all the halls. And the roses were\nvarious in fragrance, form, and color.\n\nBut care and sorrow dwelt in these halls: the Queen lay upon a sick-bed,\nand the doctors declared that she must die.\n\n\"There is still one thing that can serve her,\" said the wisest of them.\n\"Bring her the loveliest rose in the world, the one which is the\nexpression of the brightest and purest love; for if that is brought\nbefore her eyes ere they close, she will not die.\"\n\nAnd young and old came from every side with roses, the loveliest that\nbloomed in each garden; but they were not the right sort. The flower was\nto be brought out of the garden of Love; but what rose was it there that\nexpressed the highest and purest love?\n\nAnd the poets sang of the loveliest rose in the world, and each one\nnamed his own; and intelligence was sent far round the land to every\nheart that beat with love, to every class and condition, and to every\nage.\n\n\"No one has till now named the flower,\" said the wise man. \"No one has\npointed out the place where it bloomed in its splendor. They are not the\nroses from the coffin of Romeo and Juliet, or from the Walburg's grave,\nthough these roses will be ever fragrant in song. They are not the roses\nthat sprouted forth from Winkelried's blood-stained lances, from the\nblood that flows in a sacred cause from the breast of the hero who dies\nfor his country; though no death is sweeter than this, and no rose\nredder than the blood that flows then. Nor is it that wondrous flower,\nto cherish which man devotes, in a quiet chamber, many a sleepless\nnight, and much of his fresh life--the magic flower of science.\"\n\n\"I know where it blooms,\" said a happy mother, who came with her pretty\nchild to the bedside of the Queen. \"I know where the loveliest rose of\nthe world is found! The rose that is the expression of the highest and\npurest love springs from the blooming cheeks of my sweet child when,\nstrengthened by sleep, it opens its eyes and smiles at me with all its\naffection!\"\n\n\"Lovely is this rose; but there is still a lovelier,\" said the wise man.\n\n\"Yes, a far lovelier one,\" said one of the women. \"I have seen it, and a\nloftier, purer rose does not bloom. I saw it on the cheeks of the\nQueen. She had taken off her golden crown, and in the long dreary night\nshe was carrying her sick child in her arms: she wept, kissed it, and\nprayed for her child as a mother prays in the hour of her anguish.\"\n\n\"Holy and wonderful in its might is the white rose of grief; but it is\nnot the one we seek.\"\n\n\"No, the loveliest rose of the world I saw at the altar of the Lord,\"\nsaid the good old Bishop. \"I saw it shine as if an angel's face had\nappeared. The young maidens went to the Lord's Table, and renewed the\npromise made at their baptism, and roses were blushing, and pale roses\nshining on their fresh cheeks. A young girl stood there; she looked with\nall the purity and love of her young spirit up to heaven: that was the\nexpression of the highest and purest love.\"\n\n\"May she be blessed,\" said the wise man; \"but not one of you has yet\nnamed to me the loveliest rose of the world.\"\n\nThen there came into the room a child, the Queen's little son. Tears\nstood in his eyes and glistened on his cheeks; he carried a great open\nbook, and the binding was of velvet, with great silver clasps.\n\n\"Mother!\" cried the boy, \"only hear what I have read.\"\n\nAnd the child sat by the bedside, and read from the book of Him who\nsuffered death on the cross to save men, and even those who were not yet\nborn.\n\n\"Greater love there is not\"--\n\nAnd a roseate hue spread over the cheeks of the Queen, and her eyes\ngleamed, for she saw that from the leaves of the book there bloomed the\nloveliest rose, that sprang from the blood of Christ shed on the cross.\n\n\"I see it!\" she said: \"he who beholds this, the loveliest rose on earth,\nshall never die.\"\n\n\n\n\nA VISION OF THE LAST DAY\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nOf all the days of our life the greatest and most solemn is the day on\nwhich we die. Hast thou ever tried to realize that most sure, most\nportentous hour, the last hour we shall spend on earth?\n\nThere was a certain man, an upholder of truth and justice, a Christian\nman and orthodox, so the world esteemed him. And, in sooth, it may be\nthat some good thing was found in him, since in sleep, amid the visions\nof the night, it pleased the Father of spirits to reveal him to himself,\nmaking manifest to him what he was in truth, namely, one of those who\ntrust in themselves that they are righteous and despise others.\n\nHe went to rest, secure that his accounts were right with all men, that\nhe had paid his dues and wrought good works that day; of the secret\npride of his heart, of the harsh words that had passed his lips, he took\nno account at all. And so he slept, and in his sleep Death stood by his\nbedside, a glorious Angel, strong, spotless, beautiful, but unlike every\nother angel, stern, unsmiling, pitiless of aspect.\n\n\"Thine hour is come, and thou must follow me!\" spake Death. And Death's\ncold finger touched the man's feet, whereupon they became like ice, then\ntouched his forehead, then his heart. And the chain that bound the\nimmortal soul to clay was riven asunder, and the soul was free to follow\nthe Angel of Death.\n\nBut during those brief seconds, while yet that awful touch thrilled\nthrough feet, and head, and heart, there passed over the dying man, as\nin great, heaving, ocean waves, the recollection of all that he had\nwrought and felt in his whole life; just as one shuddering glance into a\nwhirlpool suffices to reveal in thought rapid as lightning, the entire\nunfathomable depth; just as in one momentary glance at the starry\nheavens we can conceive the infinite multitude of that glorious host of\nunknown orbs.\n\nIn such a retrospect the terrified sinner shrinks back into himself, and\nfinding there no stay by which to cling, must feel shrinking into\ninfinite nothingness; while the devout soul raises its thoughts to the\nAlmighty, yielding itself up to Him in childlike trust, and praying,\n\"Thy will be done in me!\"\n\nBut this man had not the childlike mind, neither did he tremble like the\nsinner; his thoughts were still the self-praising thoughts in which he\nhad fallen asleep. His path, he believed, must lead straight heavenward,\nand Mercy, the promised Mercy, would open to him the gates.\n\nAnd, in his dream, the Soul followed the Angel of Death, though not\nwithout first casting one wistful glance at the couch where lay, in its\nwhite shroud, the lifeless image of clay, still, as it were, bearing the\nimpress of the soul's own individuality. And now they hovered through\nthe air, now glided along the ground. Was it a vast decorated hall they\nwere passing through, or a forest? It seemed hard to tell; Nature, it\nappeared, was formally set out for show, as in the artificial old French\ngardens, and amid its strange, carefully arranged scenes, passed and\nrepassed troops of men and women, all clad as for a masquerade.\n\n\"Such is human life!\" said the Angel of Death.\n\nThe figures seemed more or less disguised; those who swept by in the\nglories of velvet and gold were not all among the noblest or most\ndignified-looking, neither were all those who wore the garb of poverty\ninsignificant or vulgar. It was a strange masquerade! But most strange\nit was to see how one and all carefully concealed under their clothing\nsomething they would not have others perceive, but in vain, for each was\nbent upon discovering his neighbor's secret, and they tore and snatched\nat one another till, now here, now there, some part of an animal was\nrevealed. In one was found the grinning head of an ape, in another the\ncloven foot of a goat, in a third the poison-fang of a snake, in a\nfourth the clammy fin of a fish.\n\nAll had in them some token of the animal--the animal which is fast\nrooted in human nature, and which here was seen struggling to burst\nforth. And, however closely a man might hold his garment over it, the\nothers would never rest till they had rent the hiding veil, and all kept\ncrying out, \"Look here! look now! here he is! there she is!\"--and every\none mockingly laid bare his fellow's shame.\n\n\"And what was the animal in me?\" inquired the disembodied Soul; and the\nAngel of Death pointed to a haughty form, around whose head shone a\nbright, widespread glory of rainbow-colored rays, but at whose heart\nmight be seen lurking, half-hidden, the feet of the peacock; the glory\nwas, in fact, merely the peacock's gaudy tail.\n\nAnd as they passed on, large, foul-looking birds shrieked out from the\nboughs of the trees; with clear, intelligible, though harsh, human\nvoices they shrieked, \"Thou that walkest with Death, dost remember me?\"\nAll the evil thoughts and desires that had nestled within him from his\nbirth until his death now called after him, \"Rememberest thou me?\"\n\nAnd the Soul shuddered, recognizing the voices; it could not deny\nknowledge of the evil thoughts and desires that were now rising up in\nwitness against it.\n\n\"In our flesh, in our evil nature, dwelleth no good thing,\" cried the\nSoul; \"but, at least, thoughts never with me ripened into actions; the\nworld has not seen the evil fruit.\" And the Soul hurried on to get free\nfrom the accusing voices; but the great black fowls swept in circles\nround, and screamed out their scandalous words louder and louder, as\nthough they would be heard all over the world. And the Soul fled from\nthem like the hunted stag, and at every step stumbled against sharp\nflint stones that lay in the path. \"How came these sharp stones here?\nThey look like mere withered leaves lying on the ground.\"\n\n\"Every stone is for some incautious word thou hast spoken, which lay as\na stumbling-block in thy neighbor's path, which wounded thy neighbor's\nheart far more sorely and deeply than these sharp flints now wound thy\nfeet.\"\n\n\"Alas! I never once thought of that,\" sighed the Soul.\n\nAnd those words of the gospel rang through the air, \"Judge not, that ye\nbe not judged.\"\n\n\"We have all sinned,\" said the Soul, recovering from its momentary\nself-abasement. \"I have kept the Law and the Gospel, I have done what I\ncould, I am not as others are!\"\n\nAnd in his dream this man now stood at the gates of heaven, and the\nAngel who guarded the entrance inquired, \"Who art thou? Tell me thy\nfaith, and show it to me in thy works.\"\n\n\"I have faithfully kept the Commandments, I have humbled myself in the\neyes of the world, I have preserved myself free from the pollution of\nintercourse with sinners, I have hated and persecuted evil, and those\nwho practice it, and I would do so still, yea, with fire and sword, had\nI the power.\"\n\n\"Then thou art one of Mohammed's followers?\" said the Angel.\n\n\"I? a Mohammedan?--never!\"\n\n\"'He who strikes with the sword shall perish by the sword,' thus spake\nthe Son; His religion thou knowest not. It may be that thou art one of\nthe children of Israel, whose maxim is, 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for\na tooth'--art thou such?\"\n\n\"I am a Christian.\"\n\n\"I see it not in thy faith or in thine actions. The law of Christ is the\nlaw of forgiveness, love, and mercy.\"\n\n\"Mercy!\" The gracious echo of that sweet word thrilled through infinite\nspace, the gates of heaven opened, and the Soul hovered toward the\nrealms of endless bliss.\n\nBut the flood of light that streamed forth from within was so dazzlingly\nbright, so transcendently white and pure, that the Soul shrank back as\nfrom a two-edged sword, and the hymns and harp-tones of Angels mingled\nin such exquisite celestial harmony as the earthly mind has not power\neither to conceive or to endure. And the Soul trembled and bowed itself\ndeeper and deeper, and the heavenly light penetrated it through and\nthrough, and it felt to the quick, as it had never truly felt before,\nthe burden of its own pride, cruelty, and sin.\n\n\"What I have done of good in the world, that did I because I could not\notherwise, but the evil that I did--that was of myself!\"\n\nThe confession was wrung from him; more and more the man felt dazzled\nand overpowered by the pure light of heaven; he seemed falling into a\nmeasureless abyss, the abyss of his own nakedness and unworthiness.\nShrunk into himself, humbled, cast out, unripe for the kingdom of\nheaven, shuddering at the thought of the just and holy God--hardly dared\nhe to gasp out, \"Mercy!\"\n\nAnd the face of the Angel at the portal was turned toward him in\nsoftening pity. \"Mercy is for them who implore it, not claim it; there\nis Mercy also for thee. Turn thee, child of man, turn thee back the way\nthou camest to thy clayey tabernacle; in pity is it given thee to dwell\nin dust yet a little while. Be no longer righteous in thine own eyes,\ncopy Him who with patience endured the contradiction of sinners, strive\nand pray that thou mayest become poor in spirit, and so mayest thou yet\ninherit the Kingdom.\"\n\n\"Holy, loving, glorious forever shalt thou be, O, erring human\nspirit!\"--thus rang the chorus of Angels. And again overpowered by those\ntranscendent melodies, dazzled and blinded by that excess of purest\nlight, the Soul again shrank back into itself. It seemed to be falling\nan infinite depth; the celestial music grew fainter and fainter, till\ncommon earthly sights and sounds dispelled the vision. The rays of the\nearly morning sun falling full on his face, the cheerful crow of the\nvigilant cock, called the sleeper up to pray.\n\nInexpressibly humbled, yet thankful, he arose and knelt beside his bed.\n\"Thou, who hast shown me to myself, help me now, that I may not only do\njustly, but love mercy, and walk humbly with my God. Thou, who hast\nconvicted me of sin, now purify me, strengthen me, that, though ever\nunworthy of Thy presence, I may yet, supported by Thy Love, dare to\nascend into Thine ever lasting light!\"\n\nThe Vision was his; be the lesson, the prayer, also ours.\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD GRAVESTONE\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nIn one of our small trading towns, at that time of year when folk say\n\"The evenings grow long,\" a whole family was assembled together. The air\nwas still mild and warm; the lamp was lighted, the long curtains hung\ndown before the windows, and bright moonlight prevailed without. They\nwere talking about a big old stone that lay down in the yard, close by\nthe kitchen door, where the servants often placed the kitchen utensils,\nafter they had been cleaned, to dry in the sun, and where the children\nwere fond of playing; it was, in fact, an old gravestone.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the master of the house, \"I believe it comes from the old\nruined convent chapel; pulpit and gravestones, with all their epitaphs,\nwere sold; my late father bought several of these; the others were\nbroken into paving-stones, but this one was left unused, lying in the\nyard.\"\n\n\"It is easy to know it for a gravestone,\" said the eldest of the\nchildren. \"You can still see on it an mountain-sides and a piece of an\nangel, but the inscription is almost quite worn out, except the name\n'Preben,' and a capital 'S' a little further on, and underneath it\n'Martha,' but it is impossible to make out any more, and that you can\nonly read after if has been raining, or when we have washed it.\"\n\n\"Why, then, it must be the gravestone of Preben Swan and his wife!\"\nexclaimed an old man, who by his age might appear the grandfather of\neverybody in the room. \"To be sure, they were among the last that were\nburied in the old convent churchyard--the grand old couple! Everybody\nknew them, everybody loved them; they were like king and queen in the\ntown. Folk said they had more than a barrelful of gold, and yet they\nwent about simply clad, in the coarsest cloth, only their linen was\nalways of dazzling whiteness. Yes, that was a charming old pair, Preben\nand Martha. One was always so glad to see them, sitting together on the\nbench at the top of their stone staircase, under the old lime-tree's\nshade. They were so good to the poor! they feasted them, clothed them,\nand there was good sense and a true Christian spirit in all their\nbenevolence.\n\n\"The wife died first; I remember the day quite well; I was then a little\nboy, and went with my father to see old Preben: the old man was so\ngrieved, he cried like a child. The corpse still lay in her bedroom,\nclose to the chamber where we sat; she looked as if she had just fallen\nasleep. And the old man told my father how he should now be so lonely,\nand how many years, they had spent together, and how they had first made\nacquaintance and came to love each other. As I said before, I was a\nchild, but it moved me strangely to listen to the old man, and watch how\nhe grew more animated as he went on speaking, a faint color coming into\nhis cheeks as he talked of their youthful days, how pretty she had been,\nhow many little innocent tricks he had played, in order to meet her. And\nwhen he spoke of his wedding-day his eyes quite sparkled; he seemed to\nbe living his happy time over again--and all the while she was lying\ndead in the next chamber, an old lady, and he was an old man--ah, how\ntime passes! I was a child then, and now I am as old as Preben Swan.\nYes, time and change come to all. I remember as well as possible the\nfuneral-day, and Preben Swan following the coffin. They had had their\ngravestone carved with names and inscriptions, all except the dates of\ntheir death, some years before; that same evening the stone was taken to\nthe grave, and put into its place. The next year the grave had to be\nreopened, and old Preben rejoined his wife. They did not turn out to be\nso rich as people had fancied, and what they did leave went to distant\nrelations very far off. The old wooden house, with the bench at the top\nof the high stone staircase under the lime-tree, was ordered to be\npulled down, for it was too ruinous to stand any longer. And afterward,\nwhen the convent chapel and cemetery were destroyed, the gravestone of\nPreben and Martha was sold, like others, to whomsoever chose to buy it.\nAnd so now it lies in the yard for the little ones to roll over, and to\nmake a shelf for the kitchen pots and pans. And the paved street now\ncovers the resting-place of old Preben and his wife, and nobody thinks\nof them any more.\"\n\nAnd the old man who related all this shook his head sadly. \"Forgotten!\nAll things are forgotten!\"\n\nAnd the rest began to speak of other matters; but the youngest boy, a\nchild with large, grave eyes, crept up on a chair behind the curtains,\nand looked out into the yard, where the moon shone brightly on the big\nstone that before had seemed to him flat and uninteresting enough, but\nnow had become to him like a page of a large-sized story-book. For all\nthat the boy had heard concerning Preben and his wife, the stone seemed\nto contain within it; and he looked first at the stone, and then at the\nbrilliant moon, which looked to him like a bright kind face looking down\nthrough the pure still air upon the earth.\n\n\"Forgotten! all shall be forgotten!\" these words came to his ears from\nthe room; but at that very moment an invisible angel kissed the boy's\nforehead and softly whispered, \"Keep the seed carefully, keep it till\nthe time for ripening. Through thee, child as thou art, shall the\nhalf-erased inscription, the crumbling gravestone, stand out in clear,\nlegible characters for generations to come! Through thee shall the old\ncouple again walk arm-in-arm through the ancient gateways, and sit with\nsmiling faces on the bench under the lime tree, greeting rich and poor.\nThe good and the beautiful perish never; they live eternally in tale and\nsong.\"\n\n\n\n\n\"GOOD-FOR-NOTHING\"\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nThe sheriff stood at the open window; he wore ruffles, and a dainty\nbreastpin decorated the front of his shirt; he was neatly shaven, and a\ntiny little strip of sticking-plaster covered the little cut he had\ngiven himself during the process. \"Well, my little man?\" quoth he.\n\nThe \"little man\" was no other than the laundress's son, who respectfully\ntook off his cap in passing. His cap was broken in the rim, and adapted\nto be put into the pocket on occasion; his clothes were poor, but clean,\nand very neatly mended, and he wore heavy wooden shoes. He stood still\nwhen the sheriff spoke, as respectfully as though he stood before the\nking.\n\n\"Ah, you're a good boy, a well-behaved boy!\" said the sheriff. \"And so\nyour mother is washing down at the river; _she_ isn't good for much. And\nyou're going to her, I see. Ah, poor child!--well, you may go.\"\n\nAnd the boy passed on, still holding his cap in his hand, while the wind\ntossed to and fro his waves of yellow hair. He went through the street,\ndown a little alley to the brook, where his mother stood in the water,\nat her washing-stool, beating the heavy linen. The water-mill's sluices\nwere opened, and the current was strong; the washing-stool was nearly\ncarried away by it, and the laundress had hard work to strive against\nit.\n\n\"I am very near taking a voyage,\" she said, \"and it is so cold out in\nthe water; for six hours have I been standing here. Have you anything\nfor me?\"--and the boy drew forth a phial, which his mother put to her\nlips. \"Ah, that is as good as warm meat, and it is not so dear. O, the\nwater is so cold--but if my strength will but last me out to bring you\nup honestly, my sweet child!\"\n\nAt that moment approached an elderly woman, poorly clad, blind of one\neye, lame on one leg, and with her hair brushed into one large curl to\nhide the blind eye--but in vain, the defect was only the more\nconspicuous. This was \"Lame Maren,\" as the neighbors called her, a\nfriend of the washerwoman's. \"Poor thing, slaving and toiling away in\nthe cold water! it is hard that you should be called names\"--for Maren\nhad overheard the sheriff speaking to the child about his own mother--\n\"hard that your boy should be told you are good-for-nothing.\"\n\n\"What! did the sheriff really say so, child?\" said the Laundress, and\nher lips quivered. \"So you have a mother who is good-for-nothing!\nPerhaps he is right, only he should not say so to the child--but I must\nnot complain, for good things have come to me from that house.\"\n\n\"Why yes, you were in service there once, when the sheriff's parents\nwere alive, many years since. There is a grand dinner at the sheriff's\nto-day,\" went on Maren; \"it would have been put off, though, had not\neverything been prepared. I heard it from the porter. News came in a\nletter, an hour ago, that the sheriff's younger brother, at Copenhagen,\nis dead.\"\n\n\"Dead!\" repeated the Laundress, and she turned as white as a corpse.\n\n\"What do you care about it?\" said Maren. \"To be sure, you must have\nknown him, since you served in the house.\"\n\n\"Is he dead? he was the best, the kindest of creatures! indeed, there\nare not many like him,\" and the tears rolled down her cheeks. \"O, the\nworld is turning round, I feel so ill!\" and she clung to the\nwashing-stool for support.\n\n\"You are ill, indeed!\" cried Maren. \"Take care, the stool will overturn.\nI had better get you home at once.\"\n\n\"But the linen?\"\n\n\"I will look after that--only lean on me. The boy can stay here and\nwatch it till I come back and wash what is left; it is not much.\"\n\nThe poor laundress's limbs trembled under her. \"I have stood too long in\nthe cold water; I have had no food since yesterday. O, my poor child!\"\nand she wept.\n\nThe boy cried too, as he sat alone beside the brook, watching the wet\nlinen. Slowly the two women made their way up the little alley and\nthrough the street, past the sheriff's house. Just as she reached her\nhumble home, the laundress fell down on the paving-stones, fainting.\nShe was carried upstairs and put to bed. Kind Maren hastened to prepare\na cup of warm ale--that was the best medicine in this case, she\nthought--and then went back to the brook and did the best she could with\nthe linen.\n\nIn the evening she was again in the laundress's miserable room. She had\nbegged from the sheriff's cook a few roasted potatoes and a little bit\nof bacon, for the sick woman. Maren and the boy feasted upon these, but\nthe patient was satisfied with the smell of them--that, she declared,\nwas very nourishing.\n\nSupper over, the boy went to bed, lying crosswise at his mother's feet,\nwith a coverlet made of old carpet-ends, blue and red, sewed together.\n\nThe Laundress now felt a little better; the warm ale had strengthened\nher, the smell of the meat had done her good.\n\n\"Now, you good soul,\" said she to Maren, \"I will tell you all about it,\nwhile the boy is asleep. That he is already; look at him, how sweetly he\nlooks with his eyes closed; he little thinks how his mother has\nsuffered. May he never feel the like! Well, I was in service with the\nsheriff's parents when their youngest son, the student, came home; I was\na wild young thing then, but honest--that I must say for myself. And the\nstudent was so pleasant and merry, a better youth never lived. He was a\nson of the house, I only a servant, but we became sweethearts--all in\nhonor and honesty--and he told his mother that he loved me; she was like\nan angel in his eyes, so wise, kind, and loving! And he went away, but\nhis gold ring of betrothal was on my finger. When he was really gone, my\nmistress called me in to speak to her; so grave, yet so kind she looked,\nso wisely she spoke, like an angel, indeed. She showed me what a gulf of\ndifference in tastes, habits, arid mind lay between her son and me. 'He\nsees you now to be good-hearted and pretty, but will you always be the\nsame in his eyes? You have not been educated as he has been;\nintellectually you cannot rise to his level. I honor the poor,' she\ncontinued, 'and I know that in the kingdom of heaven many a poor man\nwill sit in a higher seat than the rich; but that is no reason for\nbreaking the ranks in this world, and you two, left to yourselves, would\ndrive your carriage full tilt against all obstacles till it toppled over\nwith you both. I know that a good honest handicraftsman, Erik, the\nglove-maker, has been your suitor; he is a widower without children, he\nis well off; think whether you cannot be content with him.' Every word\nmy mistress spoke went like a knife through my heart, but I knew she was\nright; I kissed her hand, and shed such bitter tears! But bitterer tears\nstill came when I went into my chamber and lay upon my bed. O, the long,\ndreary night that followed! Our Lord alone knows what I suffered. Not\ntill I went to church on Sunday did a light break upon my darkness. It\nseemed providential that as I came out of church I met Erik the\nglove-maker. There were no more doubts in my mind; he was a good man,\nand of my own rank. I went straight to him, took his hand, and asked,\n'Art thou still in the same mind toward me?'--'Yes, and I shall never be\notherwise minded,' he replied.--'Dost thou care to have a girl who likes\nand honors thee, but does not love thee?'--'I believe love will come,'\nhe said, and so he took my hand. I went home to my mistress; the gold\nring that her son had given to me, that I wore all day next my heart,\nand on my finger at night in bed, I now drew forth; I kissed it till my\nmouth bled, I gave it to my mistress, and said that next week the bans\nwould be read for me and the glove-maker. My mistress took me in her\narms and kissed me; she did not tell me I was good-for-nothing; I was\ngood for something then, it seems, before I had known so much trouble.\nThe wedding was at Candlemastide, and our first year all went well; my\nhusband had apprentices, and you, Maren, helped me in the housework.\"\n\n\"O, and you were such a good mistress!\" exclaimed Maren. \"Never shall I\nforget how kind you and your husband were to me.\"\n\n\"Ah, you were with us during our good times! We had no children then.\nThe student I never saw again--yes, once I saw him, but he did not see\nme. He came to his mother's funeral; I saw him standing by her grave,\nlooking so sad, so ashy pale--but all for his mother's sake. When\nafterward his father died, he was abroad and did not come to the\nfuneral. Nor has he been here since; he is a lawyer, that I know, and he\nhas never married. But he thought no more of me, and had he seen me, he\nwould certainly have never recognized me, so ugly as I am now. And it is\nright it should be so.\"\n\nThen she went on to speak of the bitter days of adversity, when troubles\nhad come upon them in a flood. They had five hundred rix-dollars, and as\nin their street a house could be bought for two hundred, it was\nconsidered a good investment to buy it, take it down, and build it anew.\nThe house was bought; masons and carpenters made an estimate that one\nthousand and twenty rix-dollars more would be required. Erik arranged to\nborrow this sum from Copenhagen, but the ship that was to bring him the\nmoney was lost, and the money with it. \"It was just then that my sweet\nboy, who lies sleeping here, was born. Then his father fell sick; for\nthree-quarters of a year I had to dress and undress him every day. We\nwent on borrowing and borrowing; all our things had to be sold, one by\none; at last Erik died. Since then I have toiled and moiled for the\nboy's sake, have gone out cleaning and washing, done coarse work or\nfine, whichever I could get; but I do everything worse and worse; my\nstrength will never return any more; it is our Lord's will! He will take\nme away, and find better provision for my boy.\"\n\nShe fell asleep. In the morning she seemed better, and fancied she was\nstrong enough to go to her work again. But no sooner did she feel the\ncold water than a shivering seized her, she felt about convulsively with\nher hands, tried to step forward, and fell down. Her head lay on the\ndry bank, but her feet were in the water of the brook, her wooden shoes\nwere carried away by the stream. Here she was found by Maren.\n\nA message had been taken to her lodging that the sheriff wanted her, had\nsomething to say to her. It was too late; the poor washerwoman was dead.\nThe letter that had brought the sheriff news of his brother's death also\ngave an abstract of his will; among other bequests he had left six\nhundred rix-dollars to the glove-maker's widow, who had formerly served\nhis parents. \"There was some love-nonsense between my brother and her,\"\nquoth the sheriff. \"It is all as well she is out of the way; now it will\nall come to the boy, and I shall apprentice him to honest folk who will\nmake him a good workman.\" For whatever the sheriff might do, were it\never so kind an action, he always spoke harshly and unkindly. So he now\ncalled the boy to him, promised to provide for him, and told him it was\na good thing his mother was dead; she was good-for-nothing!\n\nShe was buried in the paupers' churchyard. Maren planted a little\nrose-tree over the grave; the boy stood by her side the while.\n\n\"My darling mother!\" he sighed, as the tears streamed down from his\neyes. \"It was not true that she was good-for-nothing!\"\n\n\"No, indeed!\" cried her old friend, looking up to heaven. \"Let the world\nsay she was good-for-nothing; our Lord in his heavenly kingdom will not\nsay so.\"\n\n\n\n\n\"IN THE UTTERMOST PARTS OF THE SEA\"\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nSome large ships were sent up toward the North Pole, for the purpose of\ndiscovering the boundaries of land and sea, and of trying how far men\ncould make their way.\n\nA year and a day had elapsed; amid mist and ice had they, with great\ndifficulty, steered further and further; the winter had now begun; the\nsun had set, one long night would continue during many, many weeks. One\nunbroken plain of ice spread around them; the ships were all fast moored\nto it; the snow lay about in heaps, and had even shaped itself into\ncubiform houses, some as big as our barrows, some only just large enough\nfor two or three men to find shelter within. Darkness they could not\ncomplain of, for the Northern Lights--Nature's fireworks--now red, now\nblue, flashed unceasingly, and the snow glistened so brightly.\n\nAt times when it was brightest came troops of the natives,\nstrange-looking figures, clad in hairy skins, and with sledges made out\nof hard fragments of ice; they brought skins to exchange, which the\nsailors were only too glad to use as warm carpets inside their snow\nhouses, and as beds whereon they could rest under their snowy tents,\nwhile outside prevailed an intensity of cold such as we never experience\nduring our severest winters. But the sailors remembered that at home it\nwas still autumn; and they thought of the warm sunbeams and the leaves\nstill clinging to the trees in varied glories of crimson and gold. Their\nwatches told them it was evening, and time for rest, and in one of the\nsnow houses two sailors had already lain down to sleep; the youngest of\nthese two had with him his best home-treasure, the Bible that his\ngrandmother had given him at parting. Every night it lay under his\npillow; he had known its contents from childhood, and every day he read\na portion; and often as he lay on his couch, he recalled to mind those\nholy words of comfort, \"If I should take the wings of the morning, and\nremain in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there should Thy hand\nlead me, and Thy right hand should hold me.\"\n\nThese sublime words of faith were on his lips as he closed his eyes,\nwhen sleep came to him, and dreams with sleep--busy, swift-winged\ndreams, proving that though the body may rest, the soul must ever be\nawake. First he seemed to hear the melodies of songs dear to him in his\nhome; a mild summer breeze seemed to breathe upon him, and a light shone\nupon his couch, as though the snowy dome above him had become\ntransparent; he lifted his head, and behold! the dazzling white light\nwas not the white of a snow wall, it came from the large wings of an\nangel stooping over him, an angel with eyes beaming with love. The\nangel's form seemed to spring from the pages of the Bible, as from the\npitcher of a lily-blossom; he extended his arms, and lo! the narrow\nwalls of the snow-hut sank back like a mist melting before the daylight.\nOnce again the green meadows and autumnal-tinted woods of the sailor's\nhome lay around him, bathed in quiet sunshine; the stork's nest was\nempty, but the apples still clung to the wild apple-tree; though leaves\nhad fallen, the red hips glistened, and the blackbird whistled in the\nlittle green cage that hung in the lowly window of his childhood's home;\nthe blackbird whistled the tune he had taught him, and the old\ngrandmother wound chickweed about the bars of the cage, as her grandson\nhad been wont to do. And the smith's pretty young daughter stood drawing\nwater from the well, and as she nodded to the grandmother, the latter\nbeckoned to her, and held up a letter to show her, a letter that had\ncome that morning from the cold northern lands, from the North Pole\nitself, where the old woman's grandson now was--safe under God's\nprotecting hand. And the two women, old and young, laughed and wept by\nturns--and he the while, the young sailor whose body was sleeping amid\nice and snow, his spirit roaming in the world of dreams, under the\nangel's wings, saw and heard it all, and laughed and wept with them. And\nfrom the letter these words were read aloud, \"Even in the uttermost\nparts of the sea, His right hand shall hold me fast\": and a sweet,\nsolemn music was wafted round him, and the angel drooped his wings; like\na soft protecting veil they fell closer over the sleeper.\n\nThe dream was ended; all was darkness in the little snow-hut, but the\nBible lay under the sailor's head, faith and hope abode in his heart.\nGod was with him, and his home was with him, \"even in the uttermost\nparts of the sea.\"\n\n\n\n\n\"SOMETHING\"\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\n\"I will be Something,\" declared the eldest of five brothers; \"I will be\nof use in the world; be it ever so humble a position that I may hold,\nlet me be but useful, and that will be Something. I will make bricks;\nfolk cannot do without them, so I shall at least do Something.\"\n\n\"Something very little, though,\" replied the second brother. \"Why, it is\nas good as nothing! it is work that might be done by a machine. Better\nbe a mason, as I intend to be. Then one belongs to a guild, becomes a\ncitizen, has a banner of one's own. Nay, if all things go well, I may\nbecome a master, and have apprentices and workmen under me. That will be\nSomething!\"\n\n\"It will be nothing at all then, I can tell you that!\" rejoined the\nthird. \"Think how many different ranks there are in a town far above\nthat of a master-mason. You may be an honest sort of a man, but you will\nnever be a gentleman; gentle and simple; those are the two grand\ndivisions, and you will always be one of the 'simple.' Well, I know\nbetter than that. I will be an architect; I will be one of the thinkers,\nthe artists; I will raise myself to the aristocracy of intellect. I may\nhave to begin from the very lowest grade; I may begin as a carpenter's\nboy, and run about with a paper-cap on my head, to fetch ale for the\nworkmen; I may not enjoy it, but I shall try to imagine it is only a\nmasquerade. 'To-morrow,' I shall say, 'I will go my own way, and others\nshall not come near me.' Yes, I shall go to the Academy, learn to draw,\nand be called an architect. That will be Something! I may get a title,\nperhaps; and I shall build and build, as others before me have done.\nYes, that will be Something!\"\n\n\"But it is Something that I care nothing about,\" said the fourth. \"I\nshould not care to go on, on, in the beaten track, to be a mere copyist;\nI will be a genius, cleverer than all of you put together; I will create\na new style, provide ideas for buildings suited to the climate and\nmaterials of our country, suited to our national character, and the\nrequirements of the age.\"\n\n\"But supposing the climate and the materials don't agree,\" suggested the\nfifth, \"how will you get on then, if they won't co-operate? As for our\nnational character, to be following out that in architecture will be\nsheer affectation, and the requirements of modern civilization will\ndrive you perfectly mad. I see you will none of you ever be anything,\nthough of course you won't believe me. But do as you please, I shall not\nbe like you. I shall reason over what you execute; there is something\nridiculous in everything; I shall find it out, show you yeur\nfaults--that will be Something!\"\n\nAnd he kept his word; and folk said of this fifth brother, \"There is\nsomething in him, certainly; he has plenty of brains! but he does\nnothing.\" But he was content, he was Something.\n\nBut what became of the five brothers? We will hear the whole.\n\nThe eldest brother, the brickmaker, found that every brick he turned out\nwhole yielded him a tiny copper coin--only copper--but a great many of\nthese small coins, added together, could be converted into a bright\nsilver dollar, and through the power of this, wheresoever he knocked,\nwhether at baker's, butcher's, or tailor's, the door flew open, and he\nreceived what he wanted. Such was the virtue of his bricks; some, of\ncourse, got broken before they were finished, but a use was found even\nfor these. For up by the trench would poor Mother Margaret fain build\nherself a little house, if she might; she took all the broken bricks,\nay, and she got a few whole ones besides, for a good heart had the\neldest brother, though only a brickmaker. The poor thing built her house\nwith her own hands; it was very narrow, its one window was all on one\nside, the door was too low, and the thatch on the roof might have been\nlaid on better, but it gave her shelter and a home, and could be seen\nfar over the sea, which sometimes burst over the trench in its might,\nand sprinkled a salt shower over the little house, which kept its place\nthere years after he who made the bricks was dead and gone.\n\nAs for the second brother, he learned to build after another fashion, as\nhe had resolved. When he was out of his apprenticeship, he buckled on\nhis knapsack and started, singing as he went, on his travels. He came\nhome again, and became a master in his native town; he built, house\nafter house, a whole street of houses; there they stood, looked well,\nand were a credit to the town; and these houses soon built him a little\nhouse for himself. How? Ask the houses, and they will give you no\nanswer; but the people will answer you and say, \"Why, of course, the\nstreet built him his house!\" It was small enough, and had only a clay\nfloor, but when he and his bride danced over it, the floor grew as\nsmooth as if it had been polished, and from every stone in the wall\nsprung a flower, that looked as gay as the costliest tapestry. It was a\npretty house and a happy wedded pair. The banner of the Masons' Guild\nwaved outside, and workmen and apprentices shouted \"Hurra!\" Yes, that\nwas Something! and at last he died--that, too, was Something!\n\nNext comes the architect, the third brother. He began as a carpenter's\napprentice, and ran about the town on errands, wearing a paper-cap; but\nhe studied industriously at the Academy, and rose steadily upward. If\nthe street full of houses had built a house for his brother the mason,\nthe street took its name from the architect; the handsomest house in the\nwhole street was his--that was Something, and he was Something! His\nchildren were gentlemen, and could boast of their \"birth\"; and when he\ndied, his widow was a widow of condition--that is Something--and his\nname stood on the corner of the street, and was in everybody's\nlips--that is Something, too!\n\nNow for the genius, the fourth brother, who wanted to invent something\nnew, something original. Somehow the ground gave way beneath his feet;\nhe fell and broke his neck. But he had a splendid funeral, with music\nand banners, and flowery paragraphs in the newspapers; and three\neulogiums were pronounced over him, each longer than the last, and this\nwould have pleased him mightily, for he loved speechifying of all\nthings. A monument was erected over his grave, only one story high--but\nthat is Something!\n\nSo now he was dead, as well as his three elder brothers; the youngest,\nthe critic, outlived them all, and that was as it should be, for thus he\nhad the last word, which to him was a matter of the greatest importance.\n\"He had plenty of brains,\" folk said. Now his hour had struck, he died,\nand his soul sought the gates of heaven. There it stood side by side\nwith another soul--old Mother Margaret from the trenches.\n\n\"It is for the sake of contrast, I suppose, that I and this miserable\nsoul should wait here together,\" thought the critic. \"Well now, who are\nyou, my good woman?\" he inquired.\n\nAnd the old woman replied, with as much respect as though St. Peter\nhimself were addressing her--in fact, she took him for St. Peter, he\ngave himself such grand airs--\"I am a poor old soul, I have no family, I\nam only old Margaret from the house near the trenches.\"\n\n\"Well, and what have you done down below?\"\n\n\"I have done as good as nothing in the world! nothing whatever! It will\nbe mercy, indeed, if such as I am suffered to pass through this gate.\"\n\n\"And how did you leave the world?\" inquired the critic, carelessly. He\nmust talk about something; it wearied him to stand there, waiting.\n\n\"Well, I can hardly tell how I left it; I have been sickly enough during\nthese last few years, and could not well bear to creep out of bed at all\nduring the cold weather. It has been a severe winter, but now that is\nall past. For a few days, as your highness must know, the wind was quite\nstill, but it was bitterly cold; the ice lay over the water as far as\none could see. All the people in the town were out on the ice; there was\ndancing, and music, and feasting, and sledge-racing, I fancy; I could\nhear something of it all as I lay in my poor little chamber. And when it\nwas getting toward evening, the moon was up, but was not yet very\nbright; I looked from my bed through the window, and I saw how there\nrose up over the sea a strange white cloud; I lay and watched it,\nwatched the black dot in it, which grew bigger and bigger, and then I\nknew what it foreboded; that sign is not often seen, but I am old and\nexperienced. I knew it, and I shivered with horror. Twice before in my\nlife have I seen that sign, and I knew that there would be a terrible\nstorm and a spring flood; it would burst over the poor things on the\nice, who were drinking and dancing and merry-making. Young and old, the\nwhole town was out on the ice; who was to warn them, if no one saw it,\nor no one knew what I knew? I felt so terrified, I felt all alive, as I\nhad not felt for years! I got out of bed, forced the window open; I\ncould see the folk running and dancing over the ice; I could see the\ngay-colored flags, I could hear the boys shout 'Hurra!' and the girls\nand lads a-singing. All were so merry; and all the time the white cloud\nwith its black speck rose higher and higher! I screamed as loud as I\ncould; but no one heard me, I was too far off. Soon would the storm\nbreak loose, the ice would break in pieces, and all that crowd would\nsink and drown. Hear me they could not; get out to them I could not;\nwhat was to be done? Then our Lord sent me a good thought; I could set\nfire to my bed; better let my house be burned to the ground than that so\nmany should miserably perish. So I kindled a light; I saw the red flame\nmount up; I got out at the door, but then I fell down; I lay there, I\ncould not get up again. But the flames burst out through the window and\nover the roof; they saw it down below, and they all ran as fast as they\ncould to help me; the poor old crone they believed would be burned;\nthere was not one who did not come to help me. I heard them come, and I\nheard, too, such a rustling in the air, and then a thundering as of\nheavy cannon-shots, for the spring-flood was loosening the ice, and it\nall broke up. But the folk were all come off it to the trenches, where\nthe sparks were flying about me; I had them all safe. But I could not\nbear the cold and the fright, and that is how I have come up here. Can\nthe gates of heaven be opened to such a poor old creature as I? I have\nno house now at the trenches; where can I go, if they refuse me here?\"\n\nThen the gates opened, and the Angel bade poor Margaret enter. As she\npassed the threshold, she dropped a blade of straw--straw from her\nbed--that bed which she had set alight to save the people on the ice,\nand lo! it had changed into gold! dazzling gold! yet flexible withal,\nand twisting into various forms.\n\n\"Look, that was what yonder poor woman brought,\" said the Angel. \"But\nwhat dost thou bring? Truly, I know well that thou hast done nothing,\nnot even made bricks. It is a pity thou canst not go back again to fetch\nat least one brick--not that it is good for anything when it is made,\nno, but because anything, the very least, done with a good will, is\nSomething. But thou mayst not go back, and I can do nothing for thee.\"\n\nThen poor Margaret pleaded for him thus: \"His brother gave me all the\nbricks and broken bits wherewith I built my poor little house--that was\na great kindness toward a poor old soul like me! May not all those bits\nand fragments, put together, be reckoned as one brick for him? It will\nbe an act of mercy; he needs it, and this is the home of mercy.\"\n\n\"To thy brother, whom thou didst despise,\" said the Angel, \"to him whose\ncalling, in respect of worldly honor, was the lowest, shalt thou owe\nthis mite of heavenly coin. Thou shalt not be sent away; thou shalt\nhave leave to stand here without, and think over thy manner of life\ndown below. But within thou canst not enter, until thou hast done\nsomething that is good--Something!\"\n\n\"I fancy I could have expressed that better,\" thought the critic; but he\ndid not say it aloud, and that was already--Something!\n\n\n\n\nTHE JEWISH GIRL\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nThere was in the charity-school among the other children a little Jewish\ngirl, so clever and good; the best, in fact, of them all; but one of the\nlessons she could not attend--the one when religion was taught, for this\nwas a Christian school.\n\nThen she held her geography book before her to learn from it, or she did\nher sum; but the lesson was quickly learned, the sum was soon done; the\nbook might be there open before her, but she did not read, she was\nlistening; and the teacher soon noticed that she was attending more\nintently, even, than any of the rest.\n\n\"Read your book,\" the teacher urged, mildly and earnestly; but she\nlooked at him with her black sparkling eyes, and when he put questions\nto her also, she knew more than all the others. She had listened,\nunderstood, and kept his words.\n\nHer father was a poor honest man, and when first he brought her to the\nschool, he had made the stipulation that she should not be taught the\nChristian faith. To let her go away during the Scripture lesson might,\nhowever, have given offence, and raised thoughts of various kinds in the\nminds of the other children, and so she stayed; but this could not go on\nany longer.\n\nThe teacher went to her father, and told him that either he must take\nhis daughter away from the school, or consent to her becoming a\nChristian.\n\n\"I cannot bear to see those burning eyes, that yearning, that thirst of\nthe soul, as it were, after the words of the gospel,\" said the teacher.\n\nAnd the father burst into tears. \"I know but little myself of our own\nreligion, but her mother was a daughter of Israel, of strong and firm\nfaith, and on her dying bed I made a vow that our child should never\nreceive Christian baptism; that vow I must keep; it is to me as a\nconvenant with God.\"\n\nAnd the little Jewish girl was taken away from the school of the\nChristians.\n\nYears rolled by.\n\nIn one of the smallest towns of Jutland served as maid in a plain\nburgher's house a poor girl of the Mosaic faith; this was Sarah. Her\nhair was black as ebony, her eyes dark, and yet brilliant and full of\nlight, such as you see among the daughters of the East; and the\nexpression in the countenance of the grown-up girl was still that of the\nchild who sat on the school-room bench, listening with thoughtful and\nwistful eye.\n\nEach Sunday sounded from the church the pealing of the organ to the song\nof the congregation, and the tones floated over the street, into the\nhouse, where the Jewish girl attended to her work, diligent and faithful\nin her calling. \"Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy,\" this was her\nlaw; but her Sabbath was a day of labor to the Christians, and only in\nher heart could she keep it holy; and that was not enough for her. But\nwhen the thought arose in her soul, \"What matters it before God about\ndays and hours?\" and on the Sunday of the Christians her hour of\ndevotion remained undisturbed. If, then, the organ's peal and the\npsalm-tunes reached over to her, where she stood in the kitchen, even\nthis became a quiet and consecrated spot. She would read then the\ntreasure and peculiar property of her people, the Old Testament, and\nthis alone; for she kept deep in her heart what her father had told the\nteacher and herself when she was taken from the school--the vow made to\nher dying mother, \"that Sarah should not be baptized, not forsake the\nfaith of her fathers.\" The New Testament was, and should remain forever,\na sealed book to her; and yet she knew much of it; it shone to her\nthrough the recollections of childhood.\n\nOne evening she sat in a corner of the parlor, and heard her master\nreading aloud. She might listen, she thought, for this was not the\ngospel; nay! 'twas out of an old story-book he read: she might stay. And\nhe read of a Hungarian knight, taken captive by a Turkish pasha, who had\nhim yoked with oxen to the plow; and he was driven with lashes, and had\nto suffer pain and ignominy beyond endurance.\n\nBut at home the knight's wife sold all her jewels, and mortgaged castle\nand lands, and his friends contributed large sums, for enormous was the\nransom demanded; still it was raised, and he was delivered out of\nthraldom and disgrace. Sick and suffering, he came to his home. But\nsoon resounded far and near the summons to war against the foe of\nChristianity. The sick man heard the call, and had neither peace nor\nrest any longer; he was placed on his charger; the blood came again to\nhis cheeks, his strength seemed to return, and he rode forth to victory.\nThe very pasha who had him yoked to the plow, and made him suffer pain\nand scorn, became his captive. He was carried home to the castle\ndungeon, but before his first hour there had elapsed the knight came,\nand asked the prisoner, \"What dost thou think awaiteth thee?\"\n\n\"I know,\" said the Turk; \"retribution.\"\n\n\"Yes, the Christian's retribution,\" said the knight. \"Christ taught us\nto forgive our enemies, to love our fellow-men. God is love! Depart in\npeace to thy home and thy dear ones, and be gentle and good to those who\nsuffer.\"\n\nThen the prisoner burst into tears.\n\n\"How could I believe such a thing could be possible? Torments and\nsufferings I looked forward to as a certainty, and I took poison, which\nmust kill me; within a few hours I shall die. There is no remedy. But\nbefore I die make known to me the faith that embraces such an amount of\nlove and mercy; it is great and divine! In it let me die; let me die a\nChristian!\" and his prayer was granted.\n\nThis was the legend, the history which was read; they all listened to it\nwith attention, but deepest sank it into the heart of her who sat alone\nin the corner--the servant maid--Sarah, the Jewess. Heavy tears stood in\nher black sparkling eyes while she sat here, as once on the\nschool-bench, and felt the greatness of the gospel. The tears rolled\ndown her cheeks.\n\n\"Let not my child become a Christian!\" were the mother's last words on\nher dying bed, and they rang through her soul with those of the law,\n\"Honor thy father and thy mother!\"\n\n\"Still I have not been baptized! they call me 'the Jewess'; the\nneighbors' boys did so, hooting at me last Sunday as I stood outside the\nopen church door, and looked in where the altar-lights burned and the\ncongregation sang. Ever since my school-days, up to this hour--even\nthough I have tried to close my eyes against it--a power from\nChristianity has like a sunbeam shone into my heart. But, my mother, I\nwill not give thee sorrow in thy grave! I will not betray the vow my\nfather made to thee; I will not read the Christian's Bible. Have not I\nthe God of my fathers? On Him let me rest my head!\"\n\nAnd years rolled by.\n\nThe husband died, the wife was left behind in hard plight. Now she could\nno longer afford to have a maid; but Sarah did not forsake the widow;\nshe became her help in distress, and kept the household together; she\nworked till late in the night, and got bread for the house by the labor\nof her hands. There were no near relatives to help a family where the\nmother grew weaker each day, lingering for months on a bed of sickness.\nSarah, gentle and pious, watched, nursed, and worked, and became the\nblessing of the poor home.\n\n\"There lies the Bible,\" said the invalid; \"read to me this wearisome\nevening; I sadly want to hear God's word.\"\n\nAnd Sarah bowed her head; she folded her hands round the Bible, which\nshe opened, and read aloud to the sick woman; now and again the tears\nwelled forth, but her eyes shone clearer, even as the darkness cleared\nfrom her soul. \"Mother, thy child shall not receive the baptism of the\nChristians, shall not be named in their communion; in this we will be\nunited here on earth, but above this there is--is a greater unity--even\nin God. 'He goes with us beyond the grave'; 'It is He who pours water\nupon him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground.' I understand\nit! I do not know myself how I came to it! through Him it is--in\nHim--Christ!\"\n\nAnd she trembled as she named the holy name; a baptism of fire streamed\nthrough her, stronger than her frame could bear, and she bent down, more\npowerless even than she by whom she watched.\n\n\"Poor Sarah!\" they said; \"she is worn out with labor and watching.\"\n\nThey took her to the hospital for the poor; there she died; thence she\nwas borne to her grave; not to the Christians' graveyard; that was not\nthe place for the Jewish girl: no, outside, by the wall, her grave was\ndug.\n\nAnd God's sun, which shone upon the graves of the Christians, shines\nalso upon that of the Jewish girl; and the hymns which are sung by the\ngraves of the Christians resound by her grave beyond the wall; thither,\ntoo, reaches the promise: \"There is resurrection in Christ, in Him, the\nSaviour, who said to his disciples, 'John truly baptized with water; but\nye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost.'\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF A MOTHER\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nA mother sat by her little child: she was very sorrowful, and feared\nthat it would die. Its little face was pale, and its eyes were closed.\nThe child drew its breath with difficulty, and sometimes so deeply as if\nit were sighing; and then the mother looked more sorrowfully than before\non the little creature.\n\nThen there was a knock at the door, and a poor old man came in, wrapped\nup in something that looked like a great horse-cloth, for that keeps\nwarm; and he required it, for it was cold winter. Without, everything\nwas covered with ice and snow, and the wind blew so sharply that it cut\none's face.\n\nAnd as the old man trembled with cold, and the child was quiet for a\nmoment, the mother went and put some beer on the stove in a little pot,\nto warm it for him. The old man sat down and rocked the cradle, and the\nmother seated herself on an old chair by him, looked at her sick child\nthat drew its breath so painfully, and seized the little hand.\n\n\"You think I shall keep it, do you not?\" she asked. \"The good God will\nnot take it from me!\"\n\nAnd the old man--he was _Death_--nodded in such a strange way, that it\nmight just as well mean _yes_ as _no_. And the mother cast down her\neyes, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Her head became heavy: for three\ndays and three nights she had not closed her eyes; and now she slept,\nbut only for a minute; then she started up and shivered with cold.\n\n\"What is that?\" she asked, and looked round on all sides; but the old\nman was gone, and her little child was gone; he had taken it with him.\nAnd there in the corner the old clock was humming and whirring; the\nheavy leaden weight ran down to the floor--plump!--and the clock\nstopped.\n\nBut the poor mother rushed out of the house crying for her child.\n\nOut in the snow sat a woman in long black garments, and she said, \"Death\nhas been with you in your room; I saw him hasten away with your child:\nhe strides faster than the wind, and never brings back what he has taken\naway.\"\n\n\"Only tell me which way he has gone,\" said the mother. \"Tell me the way,\nand I will find him.\"\n\n\"I know him,\" said the woman in the black garments; \"but before I tell\nyou, you must sing me all the songs that you have sung to your child. I\nlove those songs; I have heard them before. I am Night, and I saw your\ntears when you sang them.\"\n\n\"I will sing them all, all!\" said the mother. \"But do not detain me,\nthat I may overtake him, and find my child.\"\n\nBut Night sat dumb and still. Then the mother wrung her hands, and sang\nand wept. And there were many songs, but yet more tears, and then Night\nsaid, \"Go to the right into the dark fir wood; for I saw Death take that\npath with your little child.\"\n\nDeep in the forest there was a cross road, and she did not know which\nway to take. There stood a Blackthorn Bush, with not a leaf nor a\nblossom upon it; for it was in the cold winter time, and icicles hung\nfrom the twigs.\n\n\"Have you not seen Death go by, with my little child?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the Bush, \"but I shall not tell you which way he went\nunless you warm me on your bosom. I'm freezing to death here; I'm\nturning to ice.\"\n\nAnd she pressed the Blackthorn Bush to her bosom, quite close, that it\nmight be well warmed. And the thorns pierced into her flesh, and her\nblood oozed out in great drops. But the Blackthorn shot out fresh green\nleaves, and blossomed in the dark winter night: so warm is the heart of\na sorrowing mother! And the Blackthorn Bush told her the way that she\nshould go.\n\nThen she came to a great Lake, on which there were neither ships nor\nboat. The Lake was not frozen enough to carry her, nor sufficiently open\nto allow her to wade through, and yet she must cross it if she was to\nfind her child. Then she laid herself down to drink the Lake; and that\nwas impossible for any one to do. But the sorrowing mother thought that\nperhaps a miracle might be wrought.\n\n\"No, that can never succeed,\" said the Lake. \"Let us rather see how we\ncan agree. I'm fond of collecting pearls, and your eyes are the two\nclearest I have ever seen: if you will weep them out into me I will\ncarry you over into the great greenhouse, where Death lives and\ncultivates flowers and trees; each of these is a human life.\"\n\n\"Oh, what would I not give to get my child!\" said the afflicted mother;\nand she wept yet more, and her eyes fell into the depths of the Lake,\nand became two costly pearls. But the Lake lifted her up, as if she sat\nin a swing, and she was wafted to the opposite shore, where stood a\nwonderful house, miles in length. One could not tell if it was a\nmountain containing forests and caves, or a place that had been built.\nBut the poor mother could not see it, for she had wept her eyes out.\n\n\"Where shall I find Death, who went away with my little child?\" she\nasked.\n\n\"He has not arrived here yet,\" said an old gray-haired Woman, who was\ngoing about and watching the hothouse of Death. \"How have you found your\nway here, and who helped you?\"\n\n\"The good God has helped me,\" she replied. \"He is merciful, and you will\nbe merciful too. Where shall I find my little child?\"\n\n\"I do not know it,\" said the old Woman, \"and you cannot see. Many\nflowers and trees have faded this night, and Death will soon come and\ntransplant them. You know very well that every human being has his tree\nof life, or his flower of life, just as each is arranged. They look\nlike other plants, but their hearts beat. Children's hearts can beat\ntoo. Think of this. Perhaps you may recognize the beating of your\nchild's heart. But what will you give me if I tell you what more you\nmust do?\"\n\n\"I have nothing more to give,\" said the afflicted mother. \"But I will go\nfor you to the ends of the earth.\"\n\n\"I have nothing for you to do there,\" said the old Woman, \"but you can\ngive me your long black hair. You must know yourself that it is\nbeautiful, and it pleases me. You can take my white hair for it, and\nthat is always something.\"\n\n\"Do you ask for nothing more?\" asked she. \"I will give you that gladly.\"\nAnd she gave her beautiful hair, and received in exchange the old\nWoman's white hair.\n\nAnd then they went into the great hothouse of Death, where flowers and\ntrees were growing marvellously intertwined. There stood the fine\nhyacinths under glass bells, some quite fresh, others somewhat sickly;\nwater snakes were twining about them, and black crabs clung tightly to\nthe stalks. There stood gallant palm-trees, oaks, and plantains, and\nparsley and blooming thyme. Each tree and flower had its name; each was\na human life: the people were still alive, one in China, another in\nGreenland, scattered about in the world. There were great trees thrust\ninto little pots, so that they stood quite crowded, and were nearly\nbursting the pots; there was also many a little weakly flower in rich\nearth, with moss round about it, cared for and tended. But the sorrowful\nmother bent down over all the smallest plants, and heard the human heart\nbeating in each, and out of millions she recognized that of her child.\n\n\"That is it!\" she cried, and stretched out her hands over a little\ncrocus flower, which hung down quite sick and pale.\n\n\"Do not touch the flower,\" said the old dame; \"but place yourself here;\nand when Death comes--I expect him every minute--then don't let him pull\nup the plant, but threaten him that you will do the same to the other\nplants; then he'll be frightened. He has to account for them all; not\none may be pulled up till he receives commission from Heaven.\"\n\nAnd all at once there was an icy cold rush through the hall, and the\nblind mother felt that Death was arriving.\n\n\"How did you find your way hither?\" said he. \"How have you been able to\ncome quicker than I?\"\n\n\"I am a mother,\" she answered.\n\nAnd Death stretched out his long hands toward the little delicate\nflower; but she kept her hands tight about it, and held it fast; and yet\nshe was full of anxious care lest he should touch one of the leaves.\nThen Death breathed upon her hands, and she felt that his breath was\ncolder than the icy wind; and her hands sank down powerless.\n\n\"You can do nothing against me,\" said Death.\n\n\"But the merciful God can,\" she replied.\n\n\"I only do what He commands,\" said Death. \"I am his gardener. I take all\nhis trees and flowers, and transplant them into the great Paradise\ngardens, in the unknown land. But how they will flourish there, and how\nit is there, I may not tell you.\"\n\n\"Give me back my child,\" said the mother; and she implored and wept. All\nat once she grasped two pretty flowers with her two hands, and called to\nDeath, \"I'll tear off all your flowers, for I am in despair.\"\n\n\"Do not touch them,\" said Death. \"You say you are so unhappy, and now\nyou would make another mother just as unhappy!\"\n\n\"Another mother?\" said the poor woman; and she let the flowers go.\n\n\"There are your eyes for you,\" said Death. \"I have fished them up out of\nthe Lake; they gleamed up quite brightly. I did not know that they were\nyours. Take them back--they are clearer now than before--and then look\ndown into the deep well close by. I will tell you the names of the two\nflowers you wanted to pull up, and you will see what you were about to\nfrustrate and destroy.\"\n\nAnd she looked down into the well, and it was a happiness to see how one\nof them became a blessing to the world, how much joy and gladness she\ndiffused around her. And the woman looked at the life of the other, and\nit was made up of care and poverty, misery and woe.\n\n\"Both are the will of God,\" said Death.\n\n\"Which of them is the flower of misfortune, and which the blessed one?\"\nshe asked.\n\n\"That I may not tell you,\" answered Death; \"but this much you shall\nhear, that one of these two flowers is that of your child. It was the\nfate of your child that you saw--the future of your own child.\"\n\nThen the mother screamed aloud for terror.\n\n\"Which of them belongs to my child? Tell me that. Release the innocent\nchild! Let my child free from all that misery! Rather carry it away!\nCarry it into God's kingdom! Forget my tears, forget my entreaties, and\nall that I have done!\"\n\n\"I do not understand you,\" said Death. \"Will you have your child back,\nor shall I carry it to that place that you know not?\"\n\nThen the mother wrung her hands, and fell on her knees, and prayed to\nthe good God.\n\n\"Hear me not when I pray against Thy will, which is at all times the\nbest! Hear me not! hear me not!\" And she let her head sink down on her\nbosom.\n\nAnd Death went away with her child into the unknown land.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE MATCH GIRL\n\nBy HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nIt was terribly cold; it snowed and was already almost dark, and evening\ncame on, the last evening of the year. In the cold and gloom a poor\nlittle girl, bareheaded and barefoot, was walking through the streets.\nWhen she left her own house she certainly had had slippers on; but of\nwhat use were they? They were very big slippers, and her mother had used\nthem till then, so big were they. The little maid lost them as she\nslipped across the road, where two carriages were rattling by terribly\nfast. One slipper was not to be found again, and a boy had seized the\nother, and run away with it. He thought he could use it very well as a\ncradle, some day when he had children of his own. So now the little girl\nwent with her little naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the\ncold. In an old apron she carried a number of matches, and a bundle of\nthem in her hand. No one had bought anything of her all day, and no one\nhad given her a farthing.\n\nShivering with cold and hunger she crept along, a picture of misery,\npoor little girl! The snowflakes covered her long fair hair, which fell\nin pretty curls over her neck; but she did not think of that now. In all\nthe windows lights were shining, and there was a glorious smell of\nroast goose, for it was New Year's Eve. Yes, she thought of that!\n\nIn a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected beyond the\nother, she sat down, cowering. She had drawn up her little feet, but she\nwas still colder, and she did not dare to go home, for she had sold no\nmatches, and did not bring a farthing of money. From her father she\nwould certainly receive a beating, and besides, it was cold at home, for\nthey had nothing over them but a roof through which the wind whistled,\nthough the largest rents had been stopped with straw and rags.\n\nHer little hands were almost benumbed with the cold. Ah, a match might\ndo her good, if she could only draw one from the bundle, and rub it\nagainst the wall, and warm her hands at it. She drew one out. R-r-atch!\nhow it spluttered and burned! It was a warm bright flame, like a little\ncandle, when she held her hands over it; it was a wonderful little\nlight! It really seemed to the little girl as if she sat before a great\npolished stove, with bright brass feet and a brass cover. How the fire\nburned! how comfortable it was! but the little flame went out, the stove\nvanished, and she had only the remains of the burned match in her hand.\n\nA second was rubbed against the wall. It burned up, and when the light\nfell upon the wall it became transparent like a thin veil, and she could\nsee through it into the room. On the table a snow-white cloth was\nspread; upon it stood a shining dinner service; the roast goose smoked\ngloriously, stuffed with apples and dried plums. And what was still more\nsplendid to behold, the goose hopped down from the dish, and waddled\nalong the floor, with a knife and fork in its breast, to the little\ngirl. Then the match went out, and only the thick, damp, cold wall was\nbefore her. She lighted another match. Then she was sitting under a\nbeautiful Christmas tree; it was greater and more ornamented than the\none she had seen through the glass door at the rich merchant's.\nThousands of candles burned upon the green branches, and colored\npictures like those in the print shops looked down upon them. The little\ngirl stretched forth her hand toward them; then the match went out. The\nChristmas lights mounted higher. She saw them now as stars in the sky:\none of them fell down, forming a long line of fire.\n\n\"Now some one is dying,\" thought the little girl, for her old\ngrandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now dead,\nhad told her that when a star fell down a soul mounted up to God.\n\nShe rubbed another match against the wall; it became bright again, and\nin the brightness the old grandmother stood clear and shining, mild and\nlovely.\n\n\"Grandmother!\" cried the child, \"O! take me with you! I know you will go\nwhen the match is burned out. You will vanish like the warm fire, the\nwarm food, and the great, glorious Christmas tree!\"\n\nAnd she hastily rubbed the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to\nhold her grandmother fast. And the matches burned with such a glow that\nit became brighter than in the middle of the day; grandmother had never\nbeen so large or so beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and\nboth flew in brightness and joy above the earth, very, very high, and up\nthere was neither cold, nor hunger, nor care--they were with God.\n\nBut in the corner, leaning against the wall, sat the poor girl with red\ncheeks and smiling mouth, frozen to death on the last evening of the Old\nYear. The New Year's sun rose upon a little corpse! The child sat there,\nstiff and cold, with the matches, of which one bundle was burned. \"She\nwanted to warm herself,\" the people said. No one imagined what a\nbeautiful thing she had seen, and in what glory she had gone in with her\ngrandmother to the New Year's Day.\n\n\n\n\nFLOWERS WITHOUT FRUIT\n\n\nPrune thou thy words; the thoughts control\n  That o'er thee swell and throng:--\nThey will condense within thy soul,\n  And change to purpose strong.\n\nBut he who lets his feelings run\n  In soft luxurious flow,\nShrinks when hard service must be done,\n  And faints at every woe.\n\nFaith's meanest deed more favor bears,\n  Where hearts and wills are weigh'd,\nThan brightest transports, choicest prayers,\n  Which bloom their hour, and fade.\n\n_--J. H. Newman_\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTMENT\n\n\nMy mind to me a kingdom is;\n  Such perfect joy therein I find,\nAs far exceeds all earthly bliss\n  That world affords, or grows by kind:\nThough much I want what most men have,\nYet doth my mind forbid me crave.\n\nContent I live--this is my stay;\n  I seek no more than may suffice:\nI press to bear no haughty sway;\n   Look--what I lack, my mind supplies!\nLo! thus I triumph like a king,\nContent with that my mind doth bring.\n\nI see how plenty surfeits oft,\n   And hasty climbers soonest fall;\nI see how those that sit aloft\n   Mishap doth threaten most of all;\nThese get with toil, and keep with fear:\nSuch cares my mind could never bear.\n\nI laugh not at another's loss;\n   I grudge not at another's gain;\nNo worldly wave my mind can toss;\n   I brook that is another's pain.\nI fear no foe: I scorn no friend:\nI dread no death: I fear no end.\n\nSome have too much, yet still they crave;\n   I little have, yet seek no more:\nThey are but poor, though much they have,\n   And I am rich, with little store.\nThey poor, I rich: they beg, I give:\nThey lack, I lend: they pine, I live.\n\nI wish but what I have at will:\n   I wander not to seek for more:\nI like the plain; I climb no hill:\n   In greatest storm I sit on shore,\nAnd laugh at those that toil in vain,\nTo get what must be lost again.\n--This is my choice; for why?--I find\nNo wealth is like a quiet mind.\n\n_--Unknown_\n\n\n\n\nTHE SEARCH FOR PEACE\n\n\nSweet Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave,\n    Let me once know.\n  I sought thee in a secret cave,\n    And ask'd, if Peace were there?\nA hollow wind did seem to answer, \"No:--\n    Go seek elsewhere.\"\n\nI did; and going did a rainbow note:\n    Surely, thought I,\n  This is the lace of Peace's coat:\n    I will search out the matter.\nBut while I look'd, the clouds immediately\n    Did break and scatter.\n\nThen went I to a garden, and did spy\n    A gallant flower,\n  The Crown Imperial: Sure, said I,\n    Peace at the root must dwell.\nBut when I digg'd, I saw a worm devour\n    What show'd so well.\n\nAt length I met a reverend good old man:\n    Whom when for Peace\n  I did demand, he thus began:\n    \"There was a Prince of old\nAt Salem dwelt, who lived with good increase\n    Of flock and fold.\n\n\"He sweetly lived; yet sweetness did not save\n    His life from foes.\n  But after death, out of his grave\n    There sprang twelve stalks of wheat:\nWhich many wondering at, got some of those\n    To plant and set.\n\n\"It prosper'd strangely, and did soon disperse\n    Through all the earth:\n  For they that taste it do rehearse,\n    That virtue lies therein;\nA secret virtue, bringing peace and mirth\n  By flight of sin.\n\n\"Take of this grain, which in my garden grows,\n    And grows for you;\n  Make bread of it:--and that repose\n    And peace, which everywhere\nWith so much earnestness you do pursue,\n    Is only there.\"\n\n_--G. Herbert_\n\n\n\n\nA SONG OF PRAISE\n\n\nTo God, ye choir above, begin\n  A hymn so loud and strong\nThat all the universe may hear\n  And join the grateful song.\n\nPraise Him, thou sun, Who dwells unseen\n  Amidst transcendent light,\nWhere thy refulgent orb would seem\n  A spot, as dark as night.\n\nThou silver moon, 'ye host of stars,\n  The universal song\nThrough the serene and silent night\n  To listening worlds prolong.\n\nSing Him, ye distant worlds and suns,\n  From whence no travelling ray\nHath yet to us, through ages past,\n  Had time to make its way.\n\nAssist, ye raging storms, and bear\n  On rapid wings His praise,\nFrom north to south, from east to west,\n  Through heaven, and earth, and seas.\n\nExert your voice, ye furious fires\n  That rend the watery cloud,\nAnd thunder to this nether world\n  Your Maker's words aloud.\n\nYe works of God, that dwell unknown\n  Beneath the rolling main;\nYe birds, that sing among the groves,\n  And sweep the azure plain;\n\nYe stately hills, that rear your heads,\n  And towering pierce the sky;\nYe clouds, that with an awful pace\n  Majestic roll on high;\n\nYe insects small, to which one leaf\n  Within its narrow sides\nA vast extended world displays,\n  And spacious realms provides;\n\nYe race, still less than these, with which\n  The stagnant water teems,\nTo which one drop, however small,\n  A boundless ocean seems;\n\nWhate'er ye are, where'er ye dwell,\n  Ye creatures great or small,\nAdore the wisdom, praise the power,\n  That made and governs all.\n\n_--P. Skelton_\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRAVELLER\n\n\nHow are thy servants blest, O Lord!\n  How sure is their defence!\nEternal wisdom is their guide,\n  Their help, Omnipotence.\n\nIn foreign realms, and lands remote,\n  Supported by Thy care,\nThrough burning climes I pass'd unhurt,\n  And breathed in tainted air.\n\nThy mercy sweeten'd every soil,\n  Made every region please;\nThe hoary Alpine hills it warm'd,\n  And smoothed the Tyrrhene seas.\n\nThink, O my soul, devoutly think,\n  How, with affrighted eyes,\nThou saw'st the wide-extended deep\n  In all its horrors rise.\n\nConfusion dwelt in every face,\n  And fear in every heart;\nWhen waves on waves, and gulfs on gulfs,\n  O'ercame the pilot's art.\n\nYet then from all my griefs, O Lord,\n  Thy mercy set me free;\nWhilst, in the confidence of prayer,\n  My soul took hold on Thee.\n\nFor though in dreadful whirls we hung\n  High on the broken wave,\nI knew Thou wert not slow to hear,\n  Nor impotent to save.\n\n--The storm was laid; the winds retired,\n  Obedient to Thy will;\nThe sea that roar'd at Thy command,\n  At Thy command was still.\n\n_--J. Addison_\n\n\n\n\nTRUE GREATNESS\n\n\nThe fairest action of our human life\n  Is scorning to revenge an injury:\nFor who forgives without a further strife\n  His adversary's heart to him doth tie:\nAnd 'tis a firmer conquest truly said\n  To win the heart, than overthrow the head.\n\nIf we a worthy enemy do find,\n  To yield to worth, it must be nobly done:--\nBut if of baser metal be his mind,\n  In base revenge there is no honor won.\nWho would a worthy courage overthrow?\n  And who would wrestle with a worthless foe?\n\nWe say our hearts are great, and cannot yield;\n  Because they cannot yield, it proves them poor:\nGreat hearts are task'd beyond their power but seld:\n  The weakest lion will the loudest roar.\nTruth's school for certain does this same allow,\n  High-heartedness doth sometimes teach to bow.\n\n_--Lady E. Carew_\n\n\n\n\nCHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE\n\n\nHow happy is he born and taught\n  That serveth not another's will;\nWhose armor is his honest thought,\n  And simple truth his utmost skill!\n\nWhose passions not his masters are,\n  Whose soul is still prepared for death,\nNot tied unto the world with care\n  Of public fame, or private breath;\n\nWho envies none that chance doth raise\n  Or vice; who never understood\nHow deepest wounds are given by praise;\n  Nor rules of state, but rules of good;\n\nWho hath his life from rumors freed;\n  Whose conscience is his strong retreat;\nWhose state can neither flatterers feed,\n  Nor ruin make accusers great;\n\nWho God doth late and early pray\n  More of His grace than gifts to lend;\nAnd entertains the harmless day\n  With a well-chosen book or friend;\n\n--This man is freed from servile bands\n  Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;\nLord of himself, though not of lands;\n  And having nothing, yet hath all.\n\n_--Sir H. Wotton_\n\n\n\n\nA THANKSGIVING TO GOD, FOR HIS HOUSE\n\n\nLord, thou hast given me a cell,\n  Wherein to dwell;\nA little house, whose humble roof\n  Is weather-proof;\nUnder the spars of which I lie\n  Both soft and dry;\nWhere thou, my chamber for to ward,\n  Hast set a guard\nOf harmless thoughts, to watch and keep\n  Me, while I sleep.\nLow is my porch, as is my fate:\n  Both void of state;\nAnd yet the threshold of my door\n  Is worn by th' poor,\nWho thither come, and freely get\n  Good words, or meat.\nLike as my parlor, so my hall\n   And kitchen's small;\nA little buttery, and therein\n   A little bin,\nWhich keeps my little loaf of bread\n   Unchipt, unflead;\nSome brittle sticks of thorn or briar\n   Make me a fire,\nClose by whose living coal I sit,\n   And glow like it.\nLord, I confess too, when I dine,\n   The pulse is thine,\nAnd all those other bits that be\n   There placed by thee;\nThe worts, the purslain, and the mess\n   Of water-cress,\nWhich of thy kindness thou hast sent;\n   And my content\nMakes those, and my beloved beet,\n   To be more sweet.\n'Tis thou that crown'st my glittering hearth\n   With guiltless mirth,\nAnd giv'st me wassail-bowls to drink,\n   Spiced to the brink.\nLord, 'tis thy plenty-dropping hand\n   That soils my land,\nAnd giv'st me, for my bushel sown,\n   Twice ten for one;\nThou mak'st my teeming hen to lay\n  Her egg each day;\nBesides my healthful ewes to bear\n  Me twins each year;\nThe while the conduits of my kine\n  Run cream, for wine:\nAll these, and better, thou dost send\n  Me--to this end,\nThat I should render, for my part,\n  A thankful heart.\n\n_--R. Herrick_\n\n\n\n\nFRIENDS DEPARTED\n\n\nThey are all gone into the world of light!\n  And I alone sit lingering here!\nTheir very memory is fair and bright,\n  And my sad thoughts doth clear.\n\nIt glows and glitters in my cloudy breast\n  Like stars upon some gloomy grove,\nOr those faint beams in which this hill is drest\n  After the Sun's remove.\n\nI see them walking in an air of glory,\n  Whose light doth trample on my days;\nMy days, which are at best but dull and hoary,\n  Mere glimmerings and decays.\n\nO holy hope! and high humility!\n  High as the Heavens above!\nThese are your walks, and you have show'd them me,\n  To kindle my cold love.\n\nDear, beauteous Death; the jewel of the just!\n  Shining nowhere but in the dark;\nWhat mysteries do lie beyond thy dust,\n  Could man outlook that mark!\n\nHe that hath found some fledged birdes nest may know\n  At first sight if the bird be flown;\nBut what fair dell or grove he sings in now,\n  That is to him unknown.\n\nAnd yet, as Angels in some brighter dreams\n  Call to the soul when man doth sleep,\nSo some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes,\n  And into glory peep.\n\n_--H. Vaughan_\n\n\n\n\nTHE LAND OF DREAMS\n\n\n\"Awake, awake, my little boy!\nThou wast thy mother's only joy;\nWhy dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?\nO wake! thy father does thee keep.\"\n\n--\"O what land is the Land of Dreams?\nWhat are its mountains, and what are its streams?\nO father! I saw my mother there\nAmong the lilies by waters fair.\n\n\"Among the lambs, clothed in white,\nShe walk'd with her Thomas in sweet delight:\nI wept for joy; like a dove I mourn:--\nO when shall I again return!\"\n\n--\"Dear child! I also by pleasant streams\nHave wander'd all night in the Land of Dreams:--\nBut, though calm and warm the waters wide,\nI could not get to the other side.\"\n\n--\"Father, O father! what do we here,\nIn this land of unbelief and fear?--\nThe Land of Dreams is better far,\nAbove the light of the morning star.\"\n\n_--W. Blake_\n\n\n\n\nADORATION\n\n\nSweet is the dew that falls betimes,\nAnd drops upon the leafy limes;\n  Sweet Hermon's fragrant air:\nSweet is the lily's silver bell,\nAnd sweet the wakeful tapers smell\n  That watch for early prayer.\n\nSweet the young nurse, with love intense,\nWhich smiles o'er sleeping innocence;\n  Sweet when the lost arrive;\nSweet the musician's ardor beats,\nWhile his vague mind's in quest of sweets,\n  The choicest flowers to hive.\n\nStrong is the horse upon his speed;\nStrong in pursuit the rapid glede,\n  Which makes at once his game:\nStrong the tall ostrich on the ground;\nStrong through the turbulent profound\n  Shoots xiphias to his aim.\n\nStrong is the lion--like a coal\nHis eyeball--like a bastion's mole\n  His chest against the foes:\nStrong the gier-eagle on his sail;\nStrong against tide the enormous whale\n  Emerges as he goes.\n\nBut stronger still, in earth and air,\nAnd in sea, the man of prayer,\n  And far beneath the tide:\nAnd in the seat to Faith assign'd,\nWhere ask is, have; where seek is, find;\n  Where knock is, open wide.\n\n_--C. Smart_","title":"Bible Stories and Religious Classics","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":165605}