LXXIX.

I can take little interest in the questions which divide Christian

churches and sects, can see no reason why they should not now be

working side by side to redeem our waste places, and to make the

kingdoms of this world the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ.

St. Ambrose was a holy man, and exceeding zealous, even to slaying

for the one true creed. One day as he was walking in deep meditation

as to how to bring all men to his own mind, he was aware of a stream,

and a youth seated beside it. He had never seen so beautiful a

countenance, and sat down by him to speak of those things on which

his mind continually dwelt. To his horror he found that the beautiful

face covered a most heretical mind, and he spoke in sorrowful anger to

the youth of his danger. Whereupon the young stranger produced six or

seven vases, all of different shapes and colors, and, as he filled them

from the brook, said to the saint (as the legend is versified by Mr.

Lowell):—

“Now Ambrose, thou maker of creeds, look here—

As into these vases this water I pour;

One shall hold less, another more,

But the water the same in every case,

Shall take the figure of the vase.

O thou who wouldst unity reach through strife,

Canst thou fit this sign to the Waters of Life.”

When Ambrose looked up, the youth, the vases, and the stream were gone;

but he knew he had talked with an angel, and his heart was changed.

I wish that angel would come and do a great deal of preaching to our

English Ambroses.

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