"It was a long time before I got here; and as for suffering that matters
little. You get experience by it. You are more accomplished and fit for
greater work in the end. It is not for nothing that we are permitted to
wander; and sometimes one goes to the edge of despair--"
She looked at him with such wondering eyes that he answered her without a
word.
"Yes," he said, "I have been there."
And then it seemed to her that there was something in his eyes which she
had not remarked before. Not only the great content that was everywhere,
but a deeper light, and the air of a judge who knew both good and evil,
and could see both sides, and understood all, both to love and to hate.
"Little sister," he said, "you have never wandered far; it is not needful
for such as you. Love teaches you, and you need no more; but when we have
to be trained for an office like this, to make the way of the Lord clear
through all the generations, reason is that we should see everything, and
learn all that man is and can be. These things are too deep for us; we
stumble on, and know not till after. But now to me it is all clear."
She looked at him again and again while he spoke, and it seemed to her
that she saw in him such great knowledge and tenderness as made her glad;
and how he could understand the follies that men had done, and fathom
what real meaning was in them, and disentangle all the threads. He smiled
as she gazed at him, and answered as if she had spoken.
"What was evil perishes, and what was good remains; almost everywhere
there is a little good. We could not understand all if we had not seen
all and shared all."
"And the punishment too," she said, wondering more and more.
He smiled so joyfully that it was like laughter.
"Pain is a great angel," he said. "The reason we hated him in the old
days was because he tended to death and decay; but when it is towards
life he leads, we fear him no more. The welcome thing of all in the land
of darkness is when you see him first and know who he is; for by this you
are aware that you have found the way."
The little Pilgrim did nothing but question with her anxious eyes, for
this was such a wonder to her, and she could not understand. But he only
sat musing with a smile over the things he remembered. And at last he
said,--
"If this is so interesting to you, you shall read it all in another
place, in the room where we have laid up our own experiences, in order to
serve for the history afterwards. But we are still busy upon the work of
the earth. There is always something new to be discovered. And it is
essential for the whole world that the chronicle should be full. I am in
great joy because it was but just now that our Lord told me about that
child. Everything was imperfect without him, but now it is clear."
"You mean your brother? And you are happy though you are not sure if he
is happy?" the little Pilgrim said.
"It is not to be happy that we live," said he; and then, "We are all
happy so soon as we have found the way."
She would have asked him more, but that he was called to a consultation
with some others of his kind, and had to leave her, waving his hand to
her with a tender kindness which went to her heart. She looked after him
with great respect, scarcely knowing why; but it seemed to her that a man
who had been in the land of darkness, and made his way out of it, must be
more wonderful than any other. She looked round for a little upon the
great library, full of all the books that had ever been written, and
where people were doing their work, examining and reading and making
extracts, every one with looks of so much interest, that she almost
envied them,--though it was a generous delight in seeing people so
happy in their occupation, and a desire to associate herself somehow in
it, rather than any grudging of their satisfaction, that was in her
mind. She went about all the courts of this palace alone, and everywhere
saw the same work going on, and everywhere met the same kind looks. Even
when the greatest of all looked up from his work and saw her, he would
give her a friendly greeting and a smile; and nobody was too wise to lend
an ear to the little visitor, or to answer her questions. And this was
how it was that she began to talk to another, who was seated at a great
table with many more, and who drew her to him by something that was in
his looks, though she could not have told what it was. It was not that he
was kinder than the rest, for they were all kind. She stood by him a
little, and saw how he worked and would take something from one book and
something from another, putting them ready for use. And it did not seem
any trouble to do this work, but only pleasure, and the very pen in his
hand was like a winged thing, as if it loved to write. When he saw her
watching him, he looked up and showed her the beautiful book out of which
he was copying, which was all illuminated with lovely pictures.
"This is one of the volumes of the great history," he said. "There are
some things in it which are needed for another, and it is a pleasure to
work at it. If you will come here you will be able to see the page while
I write."
Then the little Pilgrim asked him some questions about the pictures, and
he answered her, describing and explaining them; for they were in the
middle of the history, and she did not understand what it was. When she
said, "I ought not to trouble you, for you are busy," he laughed so
kindly that she laughed too for pleasure. And he said,--
"There is no trouble here. When we are not allowed to work, as sometimes
happens, that makes us not quite so happy, but it is very seldom that it
happens so."
"Is it for punishment?" she said.
And then he laughed out with a sound which made all the others look up
smiling; and if they had not all looked so tenderly at her, as at a child
who has made such a mistake as it is pretty for the child to make, she
would have feared she had said something wrong; but she only laughed at
herself too, and blushed a little, knowing that she was not wise: and to
put her at her ease again, he turned the leaf and showed her other
pictures, and the story which went with them, from which he was copying
something. And he said,--
"This is for another book, to show how the grace of the Father was
beautiful in some homes and families. It is not the great history, but
connected with it; and there are many who love that better than the story
which is more great."