Now I marked them as they talked, and I could see that their

Transcribed from the 1849 (tenth) Francis & John Rivington edition by

David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org

THE ROCKY ISLAND,

AND

OTHER SIMILITUDES.

BY SAMUEL WILBERFORCE, D.D.

LORD BISHOP OF OXFORD.

"Fed my lambs."--S. JOHN xxi. 15.

TENTH EDITION

LONDON:

FRANCIS & JOHN RIVINGTON,

ST. PAUL'S CHURCH YARD, AND WATERLOO PLACE.

1849.

{The Rocky Island: p0.jpg}

PREFACE.

The advertisement to a work of similar character to the present expresses

the author's principle and wishes as to this little volume. It is

constructed on the same plan, and, like the former, has had the test of

the observations of his own children before it was given to the public.

The reception of "Agathos" has shewn that many parents have felt the want

which these little volumes are intended to supply, and leads the author

to hope that he has in some measure been able to meet it.

It is a peculiar gratification to him to be able thus to enter many a

Christian household, and fulfil, in some measure, his Master's charge,

"Feed my lambs."

May it please God to give His blessing to this new attempt.

S. W

_Winchester_, _Sept._ 29, 1840.

The Rocky Island.

I saw in my dream a rough rocky island rising straight out of the midst

of a roaring sea. In the midst of the island rose a black steep

mountain; dark clouds rested gloomily upon its top; and into the midst of

the clouds it cast forth ever and anon red flames, which lit them up like

the thick curling smoke at the top of a furnace-chimney. Peals of loud

thunder sounded constantly from these thick clouds; and now and then

angry lightning shot its forked tongue, white, and red, and blue, from

the midst of them, and fell upon the rocks, or the few trees which just

clung to their sides, splitting them violently down, and scattering the

broken and shivered pieces on all sides. It was a sad, dreary-looking

island at the first view, and I thought that no one could dwell in it;

but as I looked closer at its shores, I saw that they were covered with

children at play. A soft white sand formed its beach, and there these

children played. I saw no grown people among them; but the children were

all busy--some picking up shells; some playing with the bright-coloured

berries of a prickly dwarf-plant which grew upon those sands; some

watching the waves as they ran up and then fell back again on that shore;

some running after the sea-birds, which ran with quick light feet along

the wet sand, and ever flew off, skimming just along the wave-top, and

uttering a quick sharp note as the children came close upon them:--so

some sported in one way, and some in another, but all were busily at

play. Now I wondered in my dream to see these children thus busy whilst

the burning mountain lay close behind them, and the thunder made the air

ring.

Sometimes, indeed, when it shone out redder and fiercer than usual, or

when the thunder seemed close over their heads, the children would be

startled for a little while, and run together, and cry, and scream; but

very soon it was all forgotten, and they were as full of their sports as

ever.

While I was musing upon this, I saw a man appear suddenly amongst the

children. He was of a noble and kingly countenance, and yet so gentle

withal that there was not a child of them all who seemed afraid to look

in his face, or to listen to his kind voice when he opened his mouth, for

soon I found that he was speaking to them. "My dear children," I heard

him say, "you will all be certainly killed, if you stay upon this rocky

island. Here no one ever grows up happily. Here all play turns into

death--the burning mountain, and the forked lightning, and the dreadful

breath of the hill-storm,--these sweep down over all that stay here, and

slay them all; and if you stay here, for these childish pleasures of

yours, you will all perish."

Then the children grew very grave, and they gazed one upon another, and

all looked up into the face of the man, to see if he spoke in earnest.

They saw directly that he did, for that kind face looked full of care as

well as of love: so from him they looked out upon the waves of the sea,

and one whispered to another, "Where shall we go? how shall we ever get

over that sea? we can never swim across it: had we not better go back,

and play and be happy, until the time comes for us to die?"

"No," said the man, looking round kindly upon them all; "you cannot swim

over; you never could get over of yourselves: but you need not stay here

and die; for I have found a way of escape for you. Follow me, and you

shall see it."

So I saw that he led them round a high rough rock, to where the calm

waves of the sea ran up into a little bay, upon the white sand of which

only a gentle ripple broke with a very pleasant sound. This bay was full

of boats, small painted boats, with just room in each for one person,

with a small rudder to guide them at the stern, and a little sail as

white as snow, and over all a flag, on which a bright red cross was

flapping in the gentle sea-breeze.

Then when the children saw these beautiful boats, they clapped their

little hands together for very joy of heart. But the man spoke to them

again and said, "You will all have a deep, and dangerous, and stormy sea

to pass over in these little boats. They will carry you quite safely, if

you are careful to do just as I bid you, for then neither are wind nor

the sea can harm them; but they will bear you safely over the foaming

waves to a bright and beautiful land--to a country where there is no

burning mountain, and no angry lightning, and no bare rocks, and no

blasting hill-storm; but where there are trees bearing golden fruits by

the side of beautiful rivers, into which they sweep their green boughs.

There the trees are always green, and the leaves ever fresh. There the

fruit ripens every month, {6} and the very leaves upon the trees are

healing. There is always glad and joyful light. There are happy

children who have passed this sea; and there are others who have grown

old full of happiness; there are some of your fathers, and mothers, and

brothers, and sisters; and there am I ever present to keep and to comfort

you." Now when they heard this, all the children wished to jump into the

boats, and he was kindly ready to help them, only he put each one in

carefully and slowly; and as he put him in, he gave him his charge. He

told them that they must never look round to this island they were

leaving, but must be always setting their faces towards the happy land

they sought for. He told them that they must leave behind them all the

shells and the berries which had pleased them here, for if they tried to

take these with them in their boats, some accident would certainly befall

them. Then some of the children, when they heard all this, drew secretly

away, and ran round the point, and gave up the boats and the sea, and

began their old idle play again. And some of them, I thought, hid the

shells and the berries they had got, and then jumped into the boat,

pretending they had left all behind them.

Then I saw that the man gave different presents to each of them, as they

seated themselves in the boat. One was a little compass in a wooden box.

"This," he said, "will always shew you which way to steer; you are to

follow me, for I shall always be before you on the waters; but often when

the darkness of the night comes on, or the thick mist seethes up from the

wave's brim, or the calm has fallen upon you so that your boat has stood

still,--often at such times as these you may not be able even to mark my

track before you: then you must look at the compass, and its finger will

always point true and straight to where I am; and if you will follow me

there, you will be safe." He gave them, too, a musical instrument, which

made a soft murmuring sound when they breathed earnestly into it; "and

this," he said, "you must use when you are becalmed and so cannot get on,

or when the waves swell into a storm around you and threaten to swallow

you up." He gave them, too, bread and water for many days.

So I saw that they all set out upon their voyage, and a beautiful sight

it was to look upon. Their snow-white sails upon the deep sea shone like

stars upon the blue of the firmament; and now they all followed close

upon the leader's ship, and their little boats danced lightly and

joyfully over the trackless waves, which lifted up their breasts to waft

them over: and so they started. But I looked again in a little while,

and they were beginning to be scattered very widely asunder: here and

there three or four of the boats kept well together, and followed

steadily in the track of the leader's vessel; then there was a long space

of the sea with no boat upon it at all; then came a straggler or two, and

then another company; and then, far off on the right and on the left,

were other boats, which seemed to be wandering quite away from the

leader's path.

Now, as I watched them closer, I saw that there were many different

things which drew them away: one I saw, soon after they started, who

turned back to look at the rocky island, forgetting the man's command. He

saw the other children playing on the beach; he heard their merry voices;

and then looking round again towards the sea, it looked rough and dark

before him; and he forgot the burning mountain, and the terrible thunder,

and the bright happy land for which he was bound, and the goodly company

he was in, and the kind face of the kingly man; and he was like one in a

dream, before whose eyes all sorts of shapes and colours fly, and in

whose ears all sounds are ringing; and he thought no more of the helm,

nor watched the sails; and so the driving swell carried his boat idly

along with its long roll; and in a few minutes more I saw it at the top

of a white foaming breaker, and then he and it were dashed down upon the

rocks which girdled the sandy beach, and he was seen again no more.

Then I turned my eyes to two other boats, which were going fast away from

the true course, for no reason which I could see; but when I looked at

them more closely, I saw that they were in a sort of angry race; each

wished to get to the wind-side of the other; and they were so busy

thinking about this, and looking at one another with angry glances, and

calling out to one another with angry words, that they forgot to look for

the leader's ship, or to watch the finger of the compass; and so they

were going altogether wide of the track along which they should have

passed.

Then I looked closely at another, which was shooting quite away in

another direction; and I saw that the poor child had left the rudder, and

was playing with something in the bottom of the boat; and as I looked

nearer in it, I saw that it was with some of the bright berries of the

rocky island which he had brought with him that he was so foolishly busy.

Foolish, indeed, he was; and kind had been the warning of the man who

bade them leave all these behind: for whilst I was watching him, and

wondering what would be the end of such a careless voyage, I saw his

little boat strike suddenly upon a hidden rock, which broke a hole in its

wooden sides, and the water rushed in, and the boat began to sink, and

there was no help near, and the poor boy was soon drowned in the midst of

the waves.

Then I turned sadly away to watch the boats which were following their

leader; and here, too, I saw strange things; for though the sea when

looked at from afar seemed just alike to all, yet when I watched any one,

I saw that he had some difficulties, and some frights, and some helps of

his own, which I did not see the others have.

Sometimes it would fall all at once quite dark, like a thick night, all

round a boat; and if he that was in it could hear the voice of a

companion near him for a little while, that gladdened him greatly; and

then oftentimes all sound of voices died away, and all was dark, still,

deep night, and he knew not where to steer. Now if, when this fell upon

him, the child went straight to his compass, and looked close upon it, in

spite of the darkness, there came always a faint flashing light out of

the darkness, which played just over the compass, so as to shew him its

straight blue finger, if he saw no more; and then, if he took up his

musical instrument, and blew into it, though the thickness of the heavy

air seemed at first to drown its sound, yet, after awhile, if he was but

earnest, I could hear its sweet murmuring sound begin; and then directly

the child lost his fears, and did not want company; sweet echoes of his

music talked with his spirit out of the darkness, and within a little

time the gloom would lift itself quite up again, or melt away into the

softest light: and lo! he had got on far on his voyage even in this time

of darkness, so that sometimes he could see the beloved form just before

him; and at times even the wooded shore of the happy land would lift

itself up, and shine on his glad eyes, over the level brim of the silver

sea.

From another boat it would seem that the very air of the heaven died

away. There it lay, like a painted sail in a picture--the snow-white

canvass drooping lazily, or flapping to and fro, as the long dull swell

heaved up the boat, and let it sink again into the trough of the waves:

other boats, but a little way off, would sail by with a full breeze; but

he could not move; his very flag shewed no sign of life. Now if the

little sailor began to amuse himself when this happened, it seemed to me

that there he lay, and would lie, till the dark night overtook him, and

parted him from all his company. But if, instead of this, he took up his

musical instrument, and played upon it with all his earnestness, its soft

breath, as it whispered to the wind, soon woke up its gentle sighing; the

long flag lifted itself on high; the blood-red cross waved over the

water; the snowy sails swelled out, and the little boat danced on along

its joyful way.

I noticed also that before those boats which were passing on the fastest,

the sea would every now and then look very dark and threatening. Great

waves would seem to lift their white heads just before them; whilst every

where else the sea looked calm and enticing. Then the little sailor

would strain his eye after his master's course, or look down at the

faithful compass; and by both of these sure signs he saw that his way lay

straight through these threatening waves. Well was it for him, if, with

a bold heart and a faithful hand, he steered right into them. For always

did I see, that just as he got where it seemed to be most dangerous, the

tossing waves sank, as if to yield him an easy passage; the wind favoured

him more than at any part of his voyage; and he got on in the right way

faster than ever before. Especially was this so, if at first he was

somewhat tossed, and yet held straight on; for then he shot into a glassy

calm, where tide and wind bore him steadily along unto the desired haven.

But sad was it for him, if, instead of then trusting to the compass, he

steered for the smoother water. One or two such trembling sailors I

especially observed. One of them had long been sailing with the foremost

boats; he had met with less darkness, fewer mists or troubled places,

than the boats around him; and when he saw the white crests of the

threatening waves lift up their strength before him, his heart began to

sink; and after wavering for a moment, he turned his little boat aside to

seek the calmer water. Through it he seemed to be gliding on most

happily, when all at once his little boat struck upon a hidden sandbank,

and was fixed so firmly on its side, that it could not get afloat again.

I saw not his end; but I sadly feared that when next the sea wrought with

a troubled motion, and the surf broke upon that bank, his little boat

must soon be shivered, and he perish in the waves.

The other who turned aside followed closely after him; for this was one

thing which I noted through all the voyage. Whenever one boat went

astray, some thoughtless follower or other would forget his compass, to

sail after the unhappy wanderer; and it often happened that these

followers of others went the farthest wrong of any. So it was in this

case; for when the first boat struck upon the sandbank, the other,

thinking to escape it, bore still farther off; and so chancing to pass

just where the shoal ended, and an unruly current swept by its farthest

edge, the boat was upset in a moment, and the poor child in it drowned.

And now I turned to three or four boats which had kept together from the

time they left the harbour. Few were forwarder than they; few had

smoother water or more prosperous gales. I could see, when I looked

close into their faces, that they were all children of one family; and

that all the voyage through they were helping, cheering, and directing

one another. As I watched their ways, I noticed this, too, which seemed

wonderful. If one of them had got into some trouble with its tackle, and

the others stayed awhile to help it, and to bring it on its way, instead

of losing ground by this their kindness, they seemed all to make the

greater progress, and press on the further in their course.

And now I longed to see the ending of this voyage; and so looking on to

those which were most forward, I resolved to trace them to the end.

Then I found that all, without exception, came into a belt of storms and

darkness before they reached the happy land. True, it was much rougher

and more dark with some than others; but to every one there was a deep

night and a troubled sea. I saw, too, that when they reached this place,

they were always parted one from another. Even those which had kept most

close together all the voyage before, until just upon the edge of this

dark part, they, like the rest, were scattered here, and toiled on awhile

singly and alone.

They seemed to me to fare the best who entered on it with the fullest

sails, and had kept hitherto the straightest course. Indeed, as a common

rule I found this always true--that those who had watched the compass,

and held the rudder, and cheered themselves with the appointed music, and

eaten the master's bread, and steered straight after him, they passed

through this cloud and darkness easily and swiftly.

Next to these were those who sought most earnestly to cheer its gloom

with the sound of their appointed music. The Lord of these seas, indeed,

had many ways of cheering His followers. Even in the thickest of that

darkness His face of beaming love would look out upon them; and He seemed

nearer to them then than He had done heretofore through all their voyage.

Then, moreover, it was never long; and bright light lay beyond it. For

they passed straight out of it into "the haven where they would be."

Sweet sounds broke upon their glad ears even as they left that darkness.

A great crowd of happy children--parents who had gone before them--friends

whom they had loved, and holy persons whose names they had long

known--these all lined the banks, waiting to receive and welcome them.

Amidst these moved up and down shining forms of beautiful beings, such as

the children's eyes had seen only in some happy dream; and they, too,

were their friends; they, too, waited for them on the bank; they, too,

welcomed them with singing, and bore the happy new-comer with songs of

triumph into the shining presence of the merciful King. Then, on the

throne royal, and with the glorious crown upon His head, they saw the

same kind face of gentle majesty which had looked upon them when they

played on the shores of that far rocky isle. They heard again the voice

which had bid them fly the burning mountain. They saw Him who had taken

them into His convoy; who had given them their boats; who had been near

them in the storm; who had given them light in the darkness; who had

helped them in the dull calm; who had never left them; but who had kept

and guided them across the ocean; and who now received them to His never-

ending rest.

* * * * *

_Father_. Who are the children playing on the shores of the rocky

island?

_Child_. The fallen children of fallen parents, born into this sinful

world.

F. What does the burning mountain, and the lightning, and the

hill-storm, represent?

C. The wrath of God ever burning against sinners.

F. Who is He who warned these thoughtless children?

C. The Lord Jesus, who, by His ministers, warns men to "flee from the

wrath to come."

F. What are the boats by which they are to escape?

C. The "ark of Christ's Church," into which we are admitted by baptism.

F. Many of the children who embarked in the boats were lost,--what is

shewn by this?

C. That it is not enough to be received into the congregation of

Christ's flock; but that we must always "manfully fight under His banner

against the world, the flesh, and the devil, and continue Christ's

faithful soldiers and servants unto our lives' end."

F. What is the compass, and the musical instrument, and the bread, and

the water?

C. God's word, and the privilege of prayer and holy sacraments, and the

other gifts of God to His Church.

F. What is the gentle wind which the musical instrument awoke?

C. The grace of God's Holy Spirit, promised to the members of His

Church, to be sought by earnest prayer, and in all the means of grace.

F. What means the boy playing with the berries, and so striking on the

rock?

C. One who having been given up to Christ in baptism follows worldly

pleasures, and so "makes shipwreck of the faith."

F. What are the dark places and calms into which different boats enter?

C. The different temptations and dangers of the Christian life.

F. What are the threatening waves which seemed to be right ahead of the

boat?

C. The dangers and self-denials which they must meet with who will

follow Christ.

F. What is meant by the boat which turned aside, and ran upon the shoal?

C. That they who will turn aside from following Christ because danger

and self-denials meet them cannot reach heaven.

F. What is shewn in the boat which followed this one?

C. How ready we are to follow a bad example, and go beyond it.

F. What was the little company of boats which kept together?

C. A Christian family earnestly serving God.

F. Why did those who helped others find that they got on the fastest?

C. Because God, who has bid us "bear one another's burdens, and so

fulfil the law of Christ," will greatly help and bless all such.

F. What is the belt of storm and darkness which all must pass through?

C. Death.

F. Why were all separated in it?

C. Because we must die alone.

F. Who are those that generally passed through it most easily?

C. Those whose life had been most holy and obedient. "Keep innocency,

and take heed unto the thing that is right; for that shall bring a man

peace at the last" (Ps. xxxvii. 38).

F. Who were the next?

C. Those who entered on it with much prayer.

F. What was their great support in it?

C. The presence of Jesus Christ our Lord.

F. What declaration have we on this subject in God's word?

C. "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee." "I am

the resurrection and the life; he that believeth on me shall never die."

F. What lies beyond this to the faithful Christian?

C. The blessed rest of paradise and the bright glories of heaven.

The Vision of the Three States.

I saw, in my vision, two glorious creatures walking together through a

beautiful garden. I thought at first they must be angels, so bright and

happy did they seem. The garden, also, in which they were, seemed too

beautiful for earth. Every flower which I had ever seen, and numbers

which my eye had never looked upon, grew in abundance round them. They

walked, as it were, upon a carpet of flowers. The breeze was quite full

of the rich scent which arose from them. The sun shone upon them with a

brightness such as I had never seen before; whilst the air sparkled with

myriads of winged things, which flew here and there, as if to shew how

happy they were.

All through the garden, too, I saw every sort of beast, in all its

natural grace and beauty; and all at peace. Great lions moved about

amongst tender sheep; and striped tigers lay down quietly to sleep

amongst the dappled fawns which sported around them. But, amidst all

these beautiful sights, my eyes followed more than all, the two glorious

forms which were walking together with such a kingly majesty through the

happy garden: they were, truly, I could see, beings of this earth; they

were talking to each other; they were speaking of ONE who had made them

out of the dust of the earth; who had given to them living souls: who was

their Father and their Friend; who had planted for them this beautiful

garden, and made them the rulers of all that was in it.

Now I marked them as they talked, and I could see that their eyes were

often turned from all the beauty round them towards one far end of the

garden; and as I watched them, I saw that they were still passing on

towards it. Then I also fixed my eyes there, and in a while I could see

that, at the end of the garden to which they were moving, there was a

bright light, brighter and purer than the light of the sun; and I thought

that in it I could see here and there heavenly forms moving up and down,

flying upon silver wings, or borne along upon the light breath of the

sunny air. But as I strained my eyes to pierce into it, it seemed to

dazzle and confound them by its great lustre. Then, again, I heard the

words of the two; and they spake of what was before them; of the bright

light, and the heavenly forms: and I found that they were only travellers

through this beautiful garden; that the King who had placed them in it

dwelt in that light, the brightness of which had so confounded my gaze;

that they were on their way to His presence, and that when they reached

it, they should be happy for ever; even as those shining spirits were

already, whose golden figures I had been just able to discover.

Now, whilst I was pondering upon these things, and casting my eyes round

and round this beautiful garden, I heard all at once a most terrible

sound, as of thunder, such as man's ears had never heard. I looked up,

and the bright light at the end of the garden seemed to turn itself into

angry fire, and to flash red and threatening through thick black clouds,

which were forming themselves into terrible shapes all over the garden.

Then I looked for the two that I had seen before: I could just see them;

sorrow sat upon their faces, and fear made them deadly pale; a serpent

was gliding from them into the bushes; and their eyes were fixed upon the

air, as though voices, which I heard not, were speaking terrible things

to their inner ears. Then, as I looked, it grew darker and darker--the

thunder pealed all round me--cries came forth from every hill, as of

fierce and deadly beasts in wild dreadful fight. The flowers round me

were withering up, as if a burning blight had passed over them; and soon

it was all dark, and dreary, and desolate.

Then when my heart was very heavy within me, methought there stood by me

one of the forms of light whom I had seen at the garden's end; and my

knees smote together through fear of his glory; but he looked upon me

kindly, and spoke to me in a voice of pity, and he said, "Wouldst thou

see the end of this sight?" Then my heart gathered courage, and I told

him, that if it were lawful, I would indeed fain look upon it.

With that he lifted me, and we flew through the air, and I knew not where

he had borne me; but in a while he set me on my feet, and bade me look

right down beneath me. Then I looked down at his word, but could see

nothing. My eyes seemed to rest upon the thick mantle of the night, and

they could not pierce through it. Now, while I was striving to pierce

through the darkness, strange noises rose from it to my ears. All sounds

that ever were, came up from it, so mingled together that I could not say

what they were. Whether it were a groan, or a cry, or a roaring, or

music, or shouting, or the voice of anger or of sorrow; for all of these

seemed joined together into one; but the groaning was louder than the

laughing, and the voice of crying well nigh drowned the music. Then I

asked my guide what was this strange noise; and he told me that it was

the voice of all THE WORLD, as it rose up to the ears of those that were

on high. Then I begged of him, if it might be, to let me see those from

whom it came. With that he touched my eyes; and now methought, though

the darkness remained, that I could see in the midst of its thickness,

even as in the brightness of the day.

It was a strange place into which I looked. Instead of the beautiful

garden I had seen before, and two glorious creatures passing through it;

now I saw a multitude of men, women, and children, passing on through a

waste and desolate wilderness. Here and there, indeed, there were still

flowery spots, but they were soon trodden down by the feet of those who

passed along. Strange too were their steps. Now, instead of passing

straight on, they moved round and round, for they were all in the black

darkness. The ground was full of pitfalls, in the low bottoms of which I

could see red fire burning fierce and hot, and one after another fell

over into these pitfalls, and I saw them no more. Evil beasts, too,

moved amongst them, slaying one, and tearing another; and as if this was

not enough, oftentimes they would quarrel and fight with one another,

until the ground all around was covered with their bodies strewed upon

it.

Yet for all this, some would sing, and dance, and frolic; and this seemed

to me the saddest of all, for they were like mad men; and mad in truth

they were, for in the midst of their dancing and their singing, one and

another would get near the side of some great pitfall, and step over into

its flames, even with the song upon their lips.

In vain did I strain my eyes to see any light at the end, as I had seen

it in the garden. If it was there, the black clouds had rolled over it

so thick and dark that not a ray of it was left.

Yet I heard one and another offering to lead those that would follow

them, safely through this terrible wilderness; and such men never wanted

followers: so I watched many of these leaders, to see what they would do

for those that trusted them. Little help could any of them render. Some

put their followers on a path which led straight down into the deepest

and most frightful pitfalls; some set them on a path which wandered round

and round, and brought them at the end back to the same place from which

they started; some led them into thorny places, where the poor pilgrims

pierced their bleeding feet with many a wound: but not one did I see who

brought them into any better place, or took them any nearer to their

journey's end.

How they found their way at all, was at first my wonder. But as I looked

more closely, I saw in all their hands little lanterns, which just threw

a feeble light upon the darkness round them. These were always brightest

in the young, for they soon grew very dim; and the falls and blows they

met with, bruised and shattered them so much, that some had hardly any

glimmering left, even of the feeble light which they had seemed to cast

of old.

I looked at them until my heart was very sad, for there was no peace, no

safety, no hope; but all went heavily and sadly, groaning and weeping, or

laughing like madmen, until, sooner or later, they seemed all to perish

in the fearful pitfalls!

Then my angel-guide spoke to me again, marking my sadness, and he said,

"Hast thou well observed this sight?" and I answered, "Yes." Then he

said, "And wouldst thou see more?" So when I had said "yes," methought

we were once more flying through the air, until again he set me on my

feet, and bid me look down. Now here, too, strange noises reached my

ears; but as I listened to them, I found that there were mixed with them

such sounds as I had not heard before. Sweet clear voices came up now

from the din, speaking, as it were from one close by me, words of faith,

and of hope, and of love; and they sounded to me like the happy talking

which I had heard at the first between the glorious beings in the garden.

So when my guide touched my eyes, I bent them eagerly down into the

darkness below me.

At first I thought that it was the same place I had seen last, for there

was a busy multitude passing to and fro; and there was music and dancing,

and sobbing and crying; there were pitfalls, too, and wild beasts. But

as I looked closer, I saw that, in spite of all this, it was not the

place that I had seen before. Even at a glance I could see that there

were many more flowers here than there; and that many amongst the

pilgrims were going straight on, with happy faces, by a road which passed

safely by all the pitfalls. I could see, too, that at the end of the

road was a dim shining of that happy light which had been so bright in

the beautiful garden.

Now, as I looked, I saw that there were but a few who kept to this

straight safe road, and that many were scattered all over the plain. I

saw many leave this path even as I looked upon it; and very few did I see

come back to it: those who did, seemed to me to find it very hard to get

into it again; whether it was that its sides were slippery, or its banks

so steep, many fainted and gave up, after trying to climb into it again.

But it seemed quite easy to leave it; for every one who left it went on

at first lightly and pleasantly. Sometimes, indeed, they seemed greatly

startled after taking their first step out of it, and some of them turned

straight back, and after a few struggles, more or less, such always got

into it again. But if once after this first check they set out for the

plain, they seemed to go easily along, until their path lay straight by

the den of some destroying beast, or led them into the midst of the

pitfalls, where they wholly lost their reckoning, and knew not how to get

on, or how to get back.

I saw, too, after a while, that they had got lanterns in their hands,

some of which gave a great deal of light. Those which were carried along

the narrow path shot out bright rays on all sides, until towards the end

they quite blazed with light. I could see, too, that these travellers

had some way of trimming and dressing their lamps; and that much of their

light seemed to come from an open book which they carried in their hands,

from the leaves of which there flashed out continually streams of light,

which made their lamps burn so brightly that all their road shone with

it. But as they got further and further from the path, their lamps began

to burn dim. All these travellers, too, had the book of light closed; or

if they now and then opened it, they shut it up again, some carelessly,

and some as if its light frightened them; and not one could I see who

stopped to trim his light: so that just when they got amongst the

pitfalls, and wanted light the most, they were all the most nearly in

darkness.

Now, when I had looked at them for a space, and wondered, my guide said

to me, "Wouldst thou see how they enter on this plain?" Then he took me

to a fair porch, which came from the wilderness I had looked upon before;

and there I saw a man standing in white robes, and speaking good words,

and giving good gifts to each one as he came in. There were persons

coming in of all nations and people, and some, too, of all ages, though

the greatest number were little children, so small that their little

hands would not hold the man's gifts, and so he hung them round their

necks, for them to use as soon as they were able.

Then I joined myself to the group, to hear and see the better what was

passing. The man in white was speaking with a grave kind voice as I came

up. He told the pilgrims that the great Lord of the land had built that

porch, and set him there to help the poor travellers, who were before

without hope or help amongst the beasts, and snares, and pitfalls of the

terrible wilderness; he told them that the blood of the King's own Son

had been shed, that that porch might be built; that the King had prepared

them a narrow way to walk in, which led straight from that porch to His

own blessed presence, and that they might all pass along it safely if

they would; he told them that if they left that path, they would surely

get again amongst the pitfalls which they had left in the wilderness;

nay, that they would be worse off than they had been even there, for that

there was no other porch where they could again be set right, and no

other place where the gifts that he was giving them now, could ever be

got any more, if they were once thrown quite away.

Then I looked to see what these gifts were. I saw the man bring forth

clear and sparkling water, which shone as if with living light; and with

this he washed from them the dirt and the bruises of the terrible

wilderness: with this, too, he touched their little lamps, and as it

touched them, they grew so bright and clear, that the light within poured

freely forth on all around them. Then he looked in their faces, and gave

them a name, which he wrote down in the King's book; and he told them,

that by this name they should be known, not only by their

fellow-travellers, but that this would remain written in the King's book

here, unless they wholly left His path; and that every name which

remained written here, they would find written in another book in letters

of gold and of fire, when they reached the other end of the path; and

that for every pilgrim, whose name was written there, the golden gate

would open of itself, and he would find a place and a crown in the

presence of the King.

Then, as he spoke all these glorious words, my heart burned within me to

see how the travellers sped.

But he had not yet done with them; for he brought out of his stores a

golden vial for each one; and he told them that in it the King had stored

the oil of light and beauty for the dressing of their lamps.

Then he shewed them how to use it: not carelessly or lightly, for then

the oil would not flow; but earnestly, and with great care; and then

sweet odours issued from the vial, and the flame of the lamp burned

brightly and high. He gave them, too, the precious light-book, which I

had seen; and he bade them read in it when it was dark, or the way was

slippery; and that they should ever find that it was a "lantern unto

their feet, and a light unto their paths." He put, too, into the hand of

each a trusty staff, suited to their age; and then he told them, while

they leant upon it, it would bear them up at many a pinch, and ever grow

with their growth, and strengthen with their strength. "Church-truth" he

called these staffs; and they were made after a marvellous fashion, for

they were as if many wands had been woven together to make one; and as I

looked, I could see "example," and "experience," and "discipline," and

"creeds," written upon some of these wands, which grew together into

"Church-truth."

Then I longed greatly to follow forth some of these whom I had seen under

the porch; and as I gazed, I saw the man look earnestly into the face of

a fair boy, who stood before him: he gave him the name of "Gottlieb,"

{45a} and entered it in the book, and put the staff in his hand, and

washed him with living water, and hung the vial at his side, and put the

banded staff into his hands; and, bidding him God-speed, set him out upon

his journey.

Then he looked steadily into the face of another, and it, too, was fair

to look upon; but it had not the quiet happy peace of the last. The man

wrote it down as "Irrgeist;" {45b} and I thought a shade of sadness swept

over his brow as he gave to him the King's goodly gifts.

Then he sent forth a third, whose timid eye seemed hardly firm enough for

so long a journey; and I heard the name that was given him, and it was

"Furchtsam." {45c} Close to him went another, with a firm step, and an

eye of steady gentleness; and I saw, by the King's book, that he bore the

name of "Gehulfe." {46}

So these four set out upon their journey; and I followed them to see how

they should fare. Now, I saw that at first, when they started, they were

so small that they could not read in the goodly book, neither could they

use the golden vials; and their little banded sticks would have fallen

from their hands, if they had not been small and thin, like the first

green shoots of the spring. Their lamps, too, cast no light outwardly,

yet still they made some way upon the path; and whilst I wondered how

this might be, I saw that a loving hand was stretched out of the darkness

round them, which held them up and guided them on their way.

But, anon, in a while they were grown larger; and I could see Gottlieb

walking on the first, and his book of light was open in his hand, and his

lamp burned bright, for he often refreshed it with oil, and he leant upon

his good staff, and strode along the road.

Then, as he walked on, I saw that there stood upon his path a shadowy

figure, as of one in flowing robes, and on her head she seemed to wear a

chaplet of many flowers; in her hands was a cup of what seemed to be

crystal water, and a basket of what looked like cool and refreshing

fruit. A beautiful light played all round her, and half shewed her and

her gifts to the boy. She bid him welcome, as he came up to her; so he

raised his eyes from his book, and looked to see who spoke to him. Then

she spoke kindly to him; and she held forth the cup towards him, and

asked him if he would not drink. Now, the boy was hot with walking, for

the air was close, so he stretched out his hand to take the cup; but

though it seemed so near to him, he could not reach it. And at the same

moment she spake to him again, and asked him to come where these fruits

grew, and where the breeze whispered amongst the boughs of yonder

trees,--and there to drink and rest, and then go on his way again. Then

I saw that she had power to call out of the darkness the likeness of all

she spoke of. So he looked at the trees to which she pointed; and the

sun seemed to shine around them, and the shade looked cool and tempting

under them, and the pleasant breeze rustled amongst their fresh leaves;

and he thought the road upon which he was travelling was hotter and

darker, and more tiring than ever; and he put up his hand to his burning

brow, and she said to him, as he lingered, "come." Now, the trees to

which she pointed him lay off his road, or he would gladly have rested

under them; and whilst he doubted what to do, he looked down to the book

that was open in his hand; and the light shot out upon it bright and

clear, and the words which he read were these, "None that go unto her

return again, neither take they hold of the paths of life." {49a} And as

he read it, he looked again at the stranger; and now he could see more

clearly through the wild light which played around her, and he knew that

it was the evil enemy who stood before him; the sparkling cup, too, and

the fruit, turned into bitter ashes; and the pleasant shady grass became

a thorny and a troublesome brake: so, pushing by her with the help of his

staff, he began to mend his pace; and looking down into the book of

light, there shone out, as in letters of fire, "Wherewithal shall a young

man cleanse his way? by taking heed thereto according to Thy word." {49b}

Then I saw that he was feeding his lamp, which had begun to grow dim as

he parleyed with the tempter, and that he ceased not till it streamed out

as bright and as clear as ever.

But still the air was hot and sultry, and no cool breath blew upon him;

and if he looked off for a moment from his book, the fair form of the

tempter stood again beside him in silver light; the cold water sparkled

close to his lips; and trees with shady boughs waving backward and

forward over fresh green grass, and full, in every spray, of

singing-birds, seemed to spring up around him. For a little moment his

step faltered; but as his lamp streamed out its light, all the vain

shadows passed away: and I heard him say, as he struck his staff upon the

ground, "I have made a covenant with my eyes;" and even as she heard it,

the tempter passed away, and left him to himself. Scarcely was she gone,

before he passed by the door of a beautiful arbour. It was strewn with

the softest moss; roses and honeysuckle hung down over its porch; light,

as from a living diamond, gleamed from its roof; and in the midst of its

floor, a clear, cool, sparkling stream of the purest water bubbled ever

up from the deep fountain below it. Now, as this lay on the road,

Gottlieb halted for a moment to look at it; and the light of his lamp

waxed not dim, though he thus stayed to see it; the book of fire, too,

spoke to him of rest, and of halting by "palm-trees and wells of water;"

and as he looked, he read in letters of light over the door-way--

Faithful pilgrim, banish fear,

Thou mayst enter safely here:

Rest for thee thy Lord did win;

Faithful pilgrim, enter in.

Then Gottlieb rejoiced greatly, and cast himself gladly upon the mossy

floor, and bent down his parched lips to drink of the cool spring which

bubbled up before him.

Now, whilst he was resting safely here, I turned to see how it fared with

the others who had set out with him from the porch, for they had not got

as far as Gottlieb.

The first of them was Irrgeist; and when I looked upon him, he was

drawing near to the place where Gottlieb had fallen in with the tempter.

Irrgeist was walking quickly on--so quickly that, at the first glance, I

thought he would soon be by the side of Gottlieb. But, upon looking more

closely, I saw that Gottlieb's steps had been far more steady and even

than those with which Irrgeist was pressing on; for Irrgeist's lamp

burned but dimly, and gave him no sure light to walk in. Very near to

the place where Gottlieb had met with her, the tempter stood beside

Irrgeist. He was not looking at his book, as the other had been; and he

did not wait to be spoken to; for as soon as he saw the light which

played round her figure, he began to speak to her, and asked who she was.

She told him that her name was "Pleasure;" and forthwith she shewed to

him her crystal cup and fruits; and she brought before the charmed eyes

of the wanderer all the gay show with which she had tried before to

mislead the faithful Gottlieb. There was the bright sunshine, and the

green path, and the waving trees, and the rustling of the wind, and the

song of birds, and the sweet resting-shade. Irrgeist looked eagerly at

all she shewed him, and in his haste to reach out his hand for the cup,

he dropped altogether the trusty staff of "Church-truth." Then the cup

seemed to draw away from him, just as it had done from Gottlieb; but he

followed thoughtlessly after it. And soon I saw that he left the path

upon which he had been set; and though he started suddenly as soon as he

was off it, yet it was but a moment's start,--the cup was close before

him, the shadowy form led him on, the grass was green, and the trees and

the sunlight but a little farther.

And now I saw him drink some of the enchanted water; and as he drank it,

his look grew wild, and his cheek burnt like the cheek of one in a fever;

and he walked after the deceitful figure with a quicker step than ever:

but I saw that his lamp was almost out, that the book of living light had

fallen from his hands, and the golden vial hung down, ready, as it

seemed, to fall from him altogether.

Still he walked on; and a strange flitting light, from the form which was

before him, lightened the darkness of the valley, so that he could pass

on quickly; the meadow, also, was smooth and even, and there was a

rustling breeze, which played around him: so that he got on faster than

he had ever done upon the narrow path, and thought that he was getting

well on to his journey's end. Many times did he put forth his hand for

the sparkling cup, and drank of it again and again.