Bonaparteknewthatshecomprehendednotasyllable；butheunderstoodthatitistheeye，thetone，theaction，andnotatalltherationalword，thattouchesthelove—chords。Hesawshechangedcolour。
　　"Allnight，"saidBonaparte，"Ilieawake；Iseenaughtbutthyangeliccountenance。Iopenmyarmstoreceivethee——whereartthou，where？Thouartnotthere！"saidBonaparte，suitingtheactiontothewords，andspreadingouthisarmsanddrawingthemtohisbreast。
　　"Oh，please，Idon’tunderstand，"saidTrana，"Iwanttogoaway。"
　　"Yes，yes，"saidBonaparte，leaningbackinhischair，tohergreatrelief，andpressinghishandsonhisheart，"sincefirstthyamethystinecountenancewasimpressedhere——whathaveInotsuffered，whathaveInotfelt？Oh，thepangsunspoken，burningasanardentcoalinafieryanduncontaminatedbosom！"saidBonaparte，bendingforwardagain。
　　"DearLord！"saidTranatoherself，"howfoolishIhavebeen！Theoldmanhasapaininhisstomach，andnow，asmyauntisout，hehascometometohelphim。"
　　ShesmiledkindlyatBonaparte，andpushingpasthim，wenttothebedroom，quicklyreturningwithabottleofreddropsinherhand。
　　"Theyareverygoodforbenauwdheid；mymotheralwaysdrinksthem，"shesaid，holdingthebottleout。
　　Thefaceinthetrap—doorwasafieryred。Likeatiger—catreadytospring。TantSanniecrouched，withtheshoulderofmuttoninherhand。
　　ExactlybeneathherstoodBonaparte。Sheroseandclaspedwithbotharmsthebarrelofsaltmeat。
　　"What，roseofthedesert，nightingaleofthecolony，thatwiththineamorouslaywhilestthelonesomenight！"criedBonaparte，seizingthehandthatheldthevonlicsense。Nay，strugglenot！Flyasastrickenfawnintothearmsthatwouldembracethee，thou——"
　　Hereastreamofcoldpickle—water，heavywithribsandshoulders，descendingonhisheadabruptlyterminatedhisspeech。Half—blinded，Bonapartelookedupthroughthedropsthathungfromhiseyelids，andsawtheredfacethatlookeddownathim。Withonewildcryhefled。Ashepassedoutatthefrontdoorashoulderofmutton，well—directed，strucktheblackcoatinthesmalloftheback。
　　"Bringtheladder！bringtheladder！Iwillgoafterhim！"criedtheBoer—
　　woman，asBonaparteBlenkinswildlyfledintothefields……
　　LateintheeveningofthesamedayWaldokneltonthefloorofhiscabin。
　　Hebathedthefootofhisdogwhichhadbeenpiercedbyathorn。Thebruisesonhisownbackhadhadfivedaystohealin，and，exceptalittlestiffnessinhismovements，therewasnothingremarkableabouttheboy。
　　Thetroublesoftheyoungaresoonover；theyleavenoexternalmark。Ifyouwoundthetreeinitsyouththebarkwillquicklycoverthegash；butwhenthetreeisveryold，peelingthebarkoff，andlookingcarefully，youwillseethescartherestill。Allthatisburiedisnotdead。
　　Waldopouredthewarmmilkoverthelittleswollenfoot；Dosslayveryquiet，withtearsinhiseyes。Thentherewasatapatthedoor。InaninstantDosslookedwideawake，andwinkedthetearsoutfrombetweenhislittlelids。
　　"Comein，"saidWaldo，intentonhiswork；andslowlyandcautiouslythedooropened。
　　"Goodevening，Waldo，myboy，"saidBonaparteBlenkinsinamildvoice，notventuringmorethanhisnosewithinthedoor。"Howareyouthisevening？"
　　Dossgrowledandshowedhislittleteeth，andtriedtorise，buthispawhurthimsohewhined。
　　"I’mverytired，Waldo，myboy，"saidBonaparteplaintively。
　　Dossshowedhislittlewhiteteethagain。Hismasterwentonwithhisworkwithoutlookinground。Therearesomepeopleatwhosehandsitisbestnottolook。Atlasthesaid：
　　"Comein。"
　　Bonapartesteppedcautiouslyalittlewayintotheroom，andleftthedooropenbehindhim。Helookedattheboy’ssupperonthetable。
　　"Waldo，I’vehadnothingtoeatallday——I’mveryhungry，"hesaid。
　　"Eat！"saidWaldoafteramoment，bendingloweroverhisdog。
　　"Youwon’tgoandtellherthatIamhere，willyou，Waldo？"saidBonapartemostuneasily。"You’veheardhowsheusedme，Waldo？I’vebeenbadlytreated；you’llknowyourselfwhatitissomedaywhenyoucan’tcarryonalittleconversationwithaladywithouthavingsaltmeatandpickle—waterthrownatyou。Waldo，lookatme；doIlookasagentlemanshould？"
　　Buttheboyneitherlookedupnoranswered，andBonapartegrewmoreuneasy。
　　"Youwouldn’tgoandtellherthatIamhere，wouldyou？"saidBonaparte，whiningly。"There’snoknowingwhatshewoulddotome。I’vesuchtrustinyou，Waldo；I’vealwaysthoughtyousuchapromisinglad，thoughyoumayn’thaveknownit，Waldo。"
　　"Eat，"saidtheboy，"Ishallsaynothing。"
　　Bonaparte，whoknewthetruthwhenanotherspokeit，closedthedoor，carefullyputtingonthebutton。Thenhelookedtoseethatthecurtainofthewindowwascloselypulleddown，andseatedhimselfatthetable。Hewassoonmunchingthecoldmeatandbread。Waldokneltonthefloor，bathingthefootwithhandswhichthedoglickedlovingly。Onceonlyheglancedatthetable，andturnedawayquickly。
　　"Ah，yes！Idon’twonderthatyoucan’tlookatme，Waldo，"saidBonaparte；"myconditionwouldtouchanyheart。Yousee，thewaterwasfatty，andthathasmadeallthesandsticktome；andmyhair，"saidBonaparte，tenderlytouchingthelittlefringeatthebackofhishead，"isallcakedoverlikealittleplank；youwouldn’tthinkitwashairatall，"
　　saidBonaparte，plaintively。"Ihadtocreepallalongthestonewallsforfearshe’dseeme，andwithnothingonmyheadbutaredhandkerchief，tiedundermychin，Waldo；andtohideinaslootthewholeday，withnotamouthfuloffood，Waldo。Andshegavemesuchablow，justhere，"saidBonaparte。
　　Hehadclearedtheplateofthelastmorsel，whenWaldoroseandwalkedtothedoor。
　　"Oh，Waldo，mydearboy，youarenotgoingtocallher，"saidBonaparte，risinganxiously。
　　"Iamgoingtosleepinthewagon，"saidtheboy，openingthedoor。
　　"Oh，wecanbothsleepinthisbed；there’splentyofroom。Dostay，myboy，please。"
　　ButWaldosteppedout。
　　"Itwassuchalittlewhip，Waldo，"saidBonaparte，followinghimdeprecatingly。"Ididn’tthinkitwouldhurtyousomuch。Itwassuchalittlewhip。Iamsureyoudidn’ttakethepeaches。Youaren’tgoingtocallher，Waldo，areyou？"
　　Buttheboywalkedoff。
　　Bonapartewaitedtillhisfigurehadpassedroundthefrontofthewagon—
　　house，andthenslippedout。Hehidhimselfroundthecorner，butkeptpeepingouttoseewhowascoming。HefeltsuretheboywasgonetocallTantSannie。Histeethchatteredwithinwardcoldashelookedroundintothedarknessandthoughtofthesnakesthatmightbitehim，andthedreadfulthingsthatmightattackhim，andthedeadthatmightariseoutoftheirgravesifhesleptoutinthefieldallnight。Butmorethananhourpassedandnofootstepapproached。
　　ThenBonapartemadehiswaybacktothecabin。Hebuttonedthedoorandputthetableagainstitand，givingthedogakicktosilencehiswhiningwhenthefootthrobbed，heclimbedintobed。Hedidnotputoutthelight，forfearoftheghost，but，wornoutwiththesorrowsoftheday，wassoonasleephimself。
　　Aboutfouro’clockWaldo，lyingbetweentheseatsofthehorse—wagon，wasawakenedbyagentletouchonhishead。
　　Sittingup，heespiedBonapartelookingthroughoneofthewindowswithalightedcandleinhishand。
　　"I’mabouttodepart，mydearboy，beforemyenemiesarise，andIcouldnotleavewithoutcomingtobidyoufarewell，"saidBonaparte。
　　Waldolookedathim。
　　"Ishallalwaysthinkofyouwithaffection"saidBonaparte。"Andthere’sthatoldhatofyours，ifyoucouldletmehaveitforakeepsake——"
　　"Takeit，"saidWaldo。
　　"Ithoughtyouwouldsayso，soIbroughtitwithme，"saidBonaparte，puttingiton。"TheLordblessyou，mydearboy。Youhaven’tafewshillings——justatrifleyoudon’tneed——haveyou？"
　　"Takethetwoshillingsthatareinthebrokenvase。"
　　"MaytheblessingofmyGodrestuponyou，mydearchild，"saidBonaparte；
　　"mayHeguideandblessyou。Givemeyourhand。"
　　Waldofoldedhisarmsclosely，andlaydown。
　　"Farewell，adieu！"saidBonaparte。"MaytheblessingofmyGodandmyfather’sGodrestonyou，nowandevermore。"
　　Withthesewordstheheadandnosewithdrewthemselves，andthelightvanishedfromthewindow。
　　Afterafewmomentstheboy，lyinginthewagon，heardstealthyfootstepsastheypassedthewagon—houseandmadetheirwaydowntheroad。Helistenedastheygrewfainterandfainter，andatlastdiedawayaltogether，andfromthatnightthefootstepofBonaparteBlenkinswasheardnomoreattheoldfarm。
　　ENDOfPARTI。
　　PARTII。
　　"Anditwasallplay，andnoonecouldtellwhatithadlivedandworkedfor。Astriving，andastriving，andanendinginnothing。"
　　Chapter2。I。TimesandSeasons。
　　Waldolayonhisstomachonthesand。SinceheprayedandhowledtohisGodinthefuel—housethreeyearshadpassed。
　　Theysaythatintheworldtocometimeisnotmeasuredoutbymonthsandyears。Neitherisithere。Thesoul’slifehasseasonsofitsown；
　　periodsnotfoundinanycalendar，timesthatyearsandmonthswillnotscan，butwhichareasdeftlyandsharplycutofffromoneanotherasthesmoothly—arrangedyearswhichtheearth’smotionyieldsus。
　　Tostrangereyesthesedivisionsarenotevident；buteach，lookingbackatthelittletrackhisconsciousnessilluminates，seesitcutintodistinctportions，whoseboundariesaretheterminationofmentalstates。
　　Asmandiffersfromman，sodifferthesesouls’years。Themostmateriallifeisnotdevoidofthem；thestoryofthemostspiritualistoldinthem。Anditmaychancethatsome，lookingback，seethepastcutoutafterthisfashion：
　　I。
　　Theyearofinfancy，wherefromtheshadowybackgroundofforgetfulnessstartoutpicturesofstartlingclearness，disconnected，butbrightlycoloured，andindeliblyprintedinthemind。Muchthatfollowsfades，butthecoloursofthosebaby—picturesarepermanent。
　　Thererises，perhaps，awarmsummer’sevening；weareseatedonthedoorstep；wehaveyetthetasteofthebreadandmilkinourmouth，andtheredsunsetisreflectedinourbasin。
　　Thenthereisadarknight，where，wakingwithafearthatthereissomegreatbeingintheroom，werunfromourownbedtoanother，creepclosetosomelargefigure，andarecomforted。
　　Thenthereisremembranceofthepridewhen，onsomeone’sshoulder，withourarmsaroundtheirhead，weridetoseethelittlepigs，thenewlittlepigswiththeircurledtailsandtinysnouts——wheredotheycomefrom？
　　Remembranceofdelightinthefeelandsmellofthefirstorangeweeversee；ofsorrowwhichmakesusputupourlip，andcryhard，whenonemorningwerunouttotryandcatchthedewdrops，andtheymeltandwetourlittlefingers；ofalmightyanddespairingsorrowwhenwearelostbehindthekraals，andcannotseethehouseanywhere。
　　Andthenonepicturestartsoutmorevividlythanany。
　　Therehasbeenathunderstorm；theground，asfarastheeyecanreach，iscoveredwithwhitehail；thecloudsaregone，andoverheadadeepblueskyisshowing；faroffagreatrainbowrestsonthewhiteearth。We，standinginawindowtolook，feelthecool，unspeakablysweetwindblowinginonus，andafeelingoflongingcomesoverus——unutterablelonging，wecannottellforwhat。Wearesosmall，ourheadonlyreachesashighasthefirstthreepanes。Welookatthewhiteearth，andtherainbow，andthebluesky；andoh，wewantit，wewant——wedonotknowwhat。Wecryasthoughourheartwasbroken。Whenoneliftsourlittlebodyfromthewindowwecannottellwhatailsus。Werunawaytoplay。
　　Solooksthefirstyear。
　　II。
　　Nowthepicturesbecomecontinuousandconnected。Materialthingsstillrule，butthespiritualandintellectualtaketheirplaces。
　　Inthedarknightwhenweareafraidweprayandshutoureyes。Wepressourfingersveryharduponthelids，andseedarkspotsmovingroundandround，andweknowtheyareheadsandwingsofangelssenttotakecareofus，seendimlyinthedarkastheymoveroundourbed。Itisveryconsoling。
　　Inthedaywelearnourletters，andaretroubledbecausewecannotseewhyk—n—o—wshouldbeknow，andp—s—a—l—mpsalm。Theytellusitissobecauseitisso。Wearenotsatisfied；wehatetolearn；welikebettertobuildlittlestonehouses。Wecanbuildthemasweplease，andknowthereasonforthem。
　　Otherjoystoowehaveincomparablygreatertheneventhebuildingofstonehouses。
　　Wearerunthroughwithashudderofdelightwhenintheredsandwecomeononeofthosewhitewaxflowersthatliebetweentheirtwogreenleavesflatonthesand。Wehardlydarepickthem，butwefeelcompelledtodoso；andwesmellandsmelltillthedelightbecomesalmostpain。Afterwardwepullthegreenleavessoftlyintopiecestoseethesilkthreadsrunacross。
　　Beyondthekopjegrowsomepale—green，hairy—leavedbushes。Wearesosmall，theymeetoverourhead，andwesitamongthem，andkissthem，andtheyloveusback；itseemsasthoughtheywerealive。
　　Onedaywesitthereandlookupatthebluesky，anddownatourfatlittleknees；andsuddenlyitstrikesus，Whoarewe？ThisI，whatisit？
　　Wetrytolookinuponourselves，andourselfbeatsbackuponourself。
　　Thenwegetupingreatfearandrunhomeashardaswecan。Wecan’ttellanyonewhatfrightenedus。Weneverquitelosethatfeelingofselfagain。
　　III。
　　Andthenanewtimerises。Wearesevenyearsold。Wecanreadnow——readtheBible。BestofallwelikethestoryofElijahinhiscaveatHoreb，andthestillsmallvoice。
　　Oneday，anotableone，wereadonthekopje，anddiscoverthefifthchapterofMatthew，andreaditallthrough。Itisanewgold—mine。ThenwetucktheBibleunderourarmandrushedhome。Theydidn’tknowitwaswickedtotakeyourthingsagainifsomeonetookthem，wickedtogotolaw，wickedto——！Wearequitebreathlesswhenwegettothehouse；wetellthemwehavediscoveredachaptertheyneverheardof；wetellthemwhatitsays。Theoldwisepeopletellustheyknewallaboutit。Ourdiscoveryisamare’s—nesttothem；buttousitisveryreal。Thetencommandmentsandtheold"Thoushalt"wehaveheardaboutlongenoughanddon’tcareaboutit；butthisnewlawsetsusonfire。
　　Wewilldenyourself。Ourlittlewagonthatwehavemade，wegivetothelittleKaffers。Wekeepquietwhentheythrowsandatus（feeling，oh，sohappy）。Weconscientiouslyputthecrackedteacupforourselvesatbreakfast，andtaketheburntroaster—cake。Wesaveourmoney，andbuythreepenceoftobaccofortheHottentotmaidwhocallsusnames。Weareexoticallyvirtuous。Atnightweareprofoundlyreligious；eventhetickingwatchsays，"Eternity，eternity！hell，hell，hell！"andthesilencetalksofGod，andthethingsthatshallbe。
　　Occasionally，also，unpleasantlyshrewdquestionsbegintobeaskedbysomeone，weknownotwho，whositssomewherebehindourshoulder。Wegettoknowhimbetterafterward。
　　Nowwecarrythequestionstothegrown—uppeople，andtheygiveusanswers。Wearemoreorlesssatisfiedforthetime。Thegrown—uppeopleareverywise，andtheysayitwaskindofGodtomakehell，andverylovingofHimtosendmenthere；andbesides，hecouldn’thelpHimself，andtheyareverywise，wethink，sowebelievethem——moreorless。
　　IV。
　　Thenanewtimecomes，ofwhichtheleadingfeatureis，thattheshrewdquestionsareaskedlouder。Wecarrythemtothegrown—uppeople；theyanswerus，andwearenotsatisfied。
　　Andnowbetweenusandthedearoldworldofthesensesthespirit—worldbeginstopeepin，andwhollycloudsitover。Whataretheflowerstous？
　　Theyarefuelwaitingforthegreatburning。Welookatthewallsofthefarmhouseandthematter—of—factsheep—kraals，withthemerrysunshineplayingoverall；anddonotseeit。Butweseeagreatwhitethrone，andhimthatsitsonit。AroundHimstandagreatmultitudethatnomancannumber，harpersharpingwiththeirharps，athousandtimestenthousand，andthousandsofthousands。Howwhitearetheirrobes，washedinthebloodoftheLamb！Andthemusicriseshigher，andrendsthevaultofheavenwithitsunutterablesweetness。Andwe，aswelisten，everandanon，asitsinksonthesweetest，lowestnote，hearagroanofthedamnedfrombelow。
　　Weshudderinthesunlight。
　　"Thetorment，"saysJeremyTaylor，whosesermonsourfatherreadsaloudintheevening，"comprisesasmanytormentsasthebodyofmanhasjoints，sinews，arteries，etc。，beingcausedbythatpenetratingandrealfireofwhichthistemporalfireisbutapaintedfire。Whatcomparisonwilltherebebetweenburningforahundredyears’spaceandtobeburningwithoutintermissionaslongasGodisGod！"
　　Werememberthesermonthereinthesunlight。Onecomesandaskswhywesittherenoddingsomoodily。Ah，theydonotseewhatwesee。
　　"Amoment’stime，anarrowspace，Dividesmefromthatheavenlyplace，Orshutsmeupinhell。"
　　SosaysWesley’shymn，whichwesingeveningbyevening。Whatmattersunshineandwalls，menandsheep？
　　"Thethingswhichareseenaretemporal，butthethingswhicharenotseenareeternal。"Theyarereal。
　　TheBiblewebearalwaysinourbreast；itspagesareourfood；welearntorepeatit；weweepmuch，forinsunshineandinshade，intheearlymorningorthelateevening，inthefieldorinthehouse，thedevilwalkswithus。
　　Hecomestoarealperson，copper—colouredface，headalittleononeside，foreheadknit，askingquestions。Believeme，itwerebettertobefollowedbythreedeadlydiseasesthanbyhim。Heisneversilenced——withoutmercy。
　　Thoughthedropsofbloodstandoutonyourhearthewillputhisquestion。
　　Softlyhecomesup（weareonlyaweebitchild）；"IsitgoodofGodtomakehell？WasitkindofHimtoletnoonebeforgivenunlessJesusChristdied？"
　　Thenhegoesoff，andleavesuswrithing。Presentlyhecomesback。
　　"DoyouloveHim？"——waitsalittle。"DoyouloveHim？Youwillbelostifyoudon’t。"
　　Wesaywetryto。
　　"Butdoyou？"Thenhegoesoff。
　　Itisnothingtohimifwegoquitemadwithfearatourownwickedness。
　　Heaskson，thequestioningdevil；hecaresnothingwhathesays。Welongtotellsomeone，thattheymayshareourpain。Wedonotyetknowthatthecupofafflictionismadewithsuchanarrowmouththatonlyonelipcandrinkatatime，andthateachman’scupismadetomatchhislip。
　　Onedaywetrytotellsomeone。Thenagraveheadisshakensolemnlyatus。Wearewicked，verywicked，theysayweoughtnottohavesuchthoughts。Godisgood，verygood。Wearewicked，verywicked。Thatisthecomfortweget。Wicked！Oh，Lord！dowenotknowit？Isitnotthesenseofourownexceedingwickednessthatisdryingupouryoungheart，fillingitwithsand，makingalllifeadust—binforus？
　　Wicked？Weknowit！Tooviletolive，tooviletodie，tooviletocreepoverthis，God’searth，andmoveamongHisbelievingmen。Hellistheoneplaceforhimwhohateshismaster，andtherewedonotwanttogo。Thisisthecomfortwegetfromtheold。
　　Andonceagainwetrytoseekforcomfort。Thistimegreateyeslookatuswondering，andlovelylittlelipssay：
　　"Ifitmakesyousounhappytothinkofthesethings，whydoyounotthinkofsomethingelse，andforget？"
　　Forget！Weturnawayandshrinkintoourself。Forget，andthinkofotherthings！Oh，God！dotheynotunderstandthatthematerialworldisbutafilm，througheveryporeofwhichGod’sawfulspiritworldisshiningthroughonus？Wekeepasfarfromothersaswecan。
　　Onenight，arareclearmoonlightnight，wekneelinthewindow；everyoneelseisasleep，butwekneelreadingbythemoonlight。Itisachapterintheprophets，tellinghowthechosenpeopleofGodshallbecarriedontheGentiles’shoulders。Surelythedevilmightleaveusalone；thereisnotmuchtohandleforhimthere。Butpresentlyhecomes。
　　"Isitrightthereshouldbeachosenpeople？ToHim，whoisfathertoall，shouldnotallbedear？"
　　Howcanweanswerhim？Wewerefeelingsogoodtillhecame。WeputourheaddownontheBibleandblisteritwithtears。Thenwefoldourhandsoverourheadandpray，tillourteethgrindtogether。Oh，thatfromthatspirit—world，sorealandyetsosilent，thatsurroundsus，onewordwouldcometoguideus！Weareleftalonewiththisdevil；andGoddoesnotwhispertous。SuddenlyweseizetheBible，turningitroundandround，andsayhurriedly：
　　"ItwillbeGod’svoicespeakingtous；Hisvoiceasthoughweheardit。"
　　WeyearnforatokenfromtheinexorablySilentOne。
　　Weturnthebook，putourfingerdownonapage，andbendtoreadbythemoonlight。ItisGod’sanswer。Wetremble。
　　"ThenfourteenyearsafterIwentupagaintoJerusalemwithBarnabas，andtookTituswithmealso。"
　　Foraninstantourimaginationseizesit；wearetwisting，twirling，tryingtomakeanallegory。Thefourteenyearsarefourteenmonths；wearePaulandthedevilisBarnabas，Titusis——Thenasuddenloathingcomestous：
　　weareliarsandhypocrites，wearetryingtodeceiveourselves。WhatisPaultous——andJerusalem？WeareBarnabasandTitus？Weknownotthemen。Beforeweknowweseizethebook，swingitroundourhead，andflingitwithallourmighttothefurtherendoftheroom。Weputdownourheadagainandweep。
　　Youthandignorance；isthereanythingelsethatcanweepso？Itisasthoughthetearsweredropsofbloodcongealedbeneaththeeyelids；nothingelseislikethosetears。Afteralongtimeweareweakwithcrying，andliesilent，andbychanceweknockagainstthewoodthatstopsthebrokenpane。Itfalls。Uponourhotstifffaceasweetbreathofwindblows。Weraiseourhead，andwithourswolleneyeslookoutatthebeautifulstillworld，andthesweetnight—windblowsinuponus，holyandgentle，likealovingbreathfromthelipsofGod。Overusadeeppeacecomes，acalm，stilljoy；thetearsnowflowreadilyandsoftly。Oh，theunutterablegladness！Atlast，atlastwehavefoundit！"ThepeacewithGod。""Thesenseofsinsforgiven。"Alldoubtvanished，God’svoiceinthesoul，theHolySpiritfillingus！WefeelHim！WefeelHim！Oh，JesusChrist，throughyou，throughyouthisjoy！Wepressourhandsuponourbreastandlookupwardwithadoringgladness。Softwavesofblissbreakthroughus。
　　"ThepeacewithGod。""Thesenseofsinsforgiven。"Methodistsandrevivalistssaythewords，andthemockingworldshootsoutitslip，andwalksbysmiling——"Hypocrite。"
　　Therearemorefoolsandfewerhypocritesthanthewiseworlddreamsof。
　　Thehypocriteisrareasicebergsinthetropics；thefoolcommonasbuttercupsbesideawater—furrow：whetheryougothiswayorthatyoutreadonhim；youdarenotlookatyourownreflectioninthewaterbutyouseeone。Thereisnocantphrase，rottenwithage，butitwasthedressofalivingbody；nonebutatheartitsignifiesarealbodilyormentalconditionwhichsomehavepassedthrough。
　　Afterhoursandnightsoffrenziedfearofthesupernaturaldesiretoappeasethepowerabove，afiercequiveringexcitementineveryinchofnerveandbloodvessel，therecomesatimewhennaturecannotendurelonger，andthespringlongbentrecoils。Wesinkdownemasculated。Upcreepsthedeadlydeliciouscalm。
　　"Ihaveblottedoutasacloudthysins，andasathickcloudthytrespasses，andwillrememberthemnomoreforever。"Weweepwithsofttransportingjoy。
　　Afewexperiencethis；manyimaginetheyexperienceit，onehereandthereliesaboutit。Inthemain，"ThepeacewithGod；asenseofsinsforgiven，"standsforacertainmentalandphysicalreaction。Itsrealitythoseknowwhohavefeltit。
　　Andwe，onthatmoonlightnight，putdownourheadonthewindow，"Oh，God！
　　wearehappy，happy；thychildforever。Oh，thankyou，God！"andwedropasleep。
　　NextmorningtheBiblewekiss。WeareGod’sforever。Wegoouttowork，anditgoeshappilyallday，happilyallnight；buthardlysohappily，nothappilyatall，thenextday；andthenextnightthedevilasksus，"whereisyourHolySpirit？"
　　Wecannottell。