A LITTLE PILGRIM

In the Unseen

by

MRS. OLIPHANT

LondonMacMillan and Co. , LimitedNew York: The MacMillan Company

1899

 Puro e disposto a salire alle stelle. 

 _Purgaterio_, Canto xxxiii. 

The sympathetic reader will easily understand that the following pageswere never meant to be connected with any author's name. They sprang outof those thoughts that arise in the heart, when the door of the Unseenhas been suddenly opened close by us; and are little more than a wistfulattempt to follow a gentle soul which never knew doubt into the NewWorld, and to catch a glimpse of something of its glory through hersimple and child-like eyes. 

In Memoriam

E. C. 

25TH FEBRUARY 1882

A LITTLE PILGRIM IN THE UNSEEN

She had been talking of dying only the evening before, with a friend, and had described her own sensations after a long illness when she hadbeen at the point of death. "I suppose, " she said, "that I was as nearlygone as any one ever was to come back again. There was no pain in it, only a sense of sinking down, down--through the bed as if nothing couldhold me or give me support enough--but no pain. " And then they hadspoken of another friend in the same circumstances, who also had comeback from the very verge, and who described her sensations as those ofone floating upon a summer sea without pain or suffering, in a lovelynook of the Mediterranean, blue as the sky. These soft and soothingimages of the passage which all men dread had been talked over with lowvoices, yet with smiles and a grateful sense that "the warm precincts ofthe cheerful day" were once more familiar to both. And very cheerfullyshe went to rest that night, talking of what was to be done on themorrow, and fell asleep sweetly in her little room, with its shadedlight and curtained window, and little pictures on the dim walls. Allwas quiet in the house: soft breathing of the sleepers, soft murmuringof the spring wind outside, a wintry moon very clear and full in theskies, a little town all hushed and quiet, everything lying defenceless, unconscious, in the safe keeping of God. 

How soon she woke no one can tell. She woke and lay quite still, halfroused, half hushed, in that soft languor that attends a happy waking. She was happy always in the peace of a heart that was humble andfaithful and pure, but yet had been used to wake to a consciousness oflittle pains and troubles, such as even to her meekness were sometimeshard to bear. But on this morning there were none of these. She lay in akind of hush of happiness and ease, not caring to make any furthermovement, lingering over the sweet sensation of that waking. She had nodesire to move nor to break the spell of the silence and peace. It wasstill very early, she supposed, and probably it might be hours yetbefore any one came to call her. It might even be that she should sleepagain. She had no wish to move, she lay in such luxurious ease and calm. But by and by, as she came to full possession of her waking senses, itappeared to her that there was some change in the atmosphere, in thescene. There began to steal into the air about her the soft dawn as of asummer morning, the lovely blueness of the first opening of daylightbefore the sun. It could not be the light of the moon which she had seenbefore she went to bed; and all was so still that it could not be thebustling wintry day which comes at that time of the year late, to findthe world awake before it. This was different; it was like the summerdawn, a soft suffusion of light growing every moment. And by and by itoccurred to her that she was not in the little room where she had laindown. There were no dim walls or roof, her little pictures were allgone, the curtains at her window. The discovery gave her no uneasinessin that delightful calm. She lay still to think of it all, to wonder, yet undisturbed. It half amused her that these things should be changed, but did not rouse her yet with any shock of alteration. The light grewfuller and fuller round, growing into day, clearing her eyes from thesweet mist of the first waking. Then she raised herself upon her arm. She was not in her room, she was in no scene she knew. Indeed it wasscarcely a scene at all--nothing but light, so soft and lovely that itsoothed and caressed her eyes. She thought all at once of a summermorning when she was a child, when she had woke in the deep night whichyet was day, early--so early that the birds were scarcely astir--and hadrisen up with a delicious sense of daring, and of being all alone in themystery of the sunrise, in the unawakened world which lay at her feet tobe explored, as if she were Eve just entering upon Eden. It was curioushow all those childish sensations, long forgotten, came back to her asshe found herself so unexpectedly out of her sleep in the open air andlight. In the recollection of that lovely hour, with a smile at herself, so different as she now knew herself to be, she was moved to rise andlook a little more closely about her and see where she was. 

When I call her a little Pilgrim, I do not mean that she was a child;on the contrary, she was not even young. She was little by nature, withas little flesh and blood as was consistent with mortal life; and shewas one of those who are always little for love. The tongue founddiminutives for her; the heart kept her in a perpetual youth. She was somodest and so gentle that she always came last so long as there was anyone whom she could put before her. But this little body, and the soulwhich was not little, and the heart which was big and great, had knownall the round of sorrows that fill a woman's life, without knowing anyof its warmer blessings. She had nursed the sick, she had entertainedthe weary, she had consoled the dying. She had gone about the world, which had no prize nor recompense for her, with a smile. Her littlepresence had been always bright. She was not clever; you might have saidshe had no mind at all; but so wise and right and tender a heart that itwas as good as genius. This is to let you know what this little Pilgrimhad been. 

She rose up, and it was strange how like she felt to the child sheremembered in that still summer morning so many years ago. Her littlebody, which had been worn and racked with pain, felt as light andunconscious of itself as then. She took her first step forward with thesame sense of pleasure, yet of awe, suppressed delight and daring andwild adventure, yet perfect safety. But then the recollection of thelittle room in which she had fallen asleep came quickly, strangely overher, confusing her mind. "I must be dreaming, I suppose, " she said toherself regretfully; for it was all so sweet that she wished it to betrue. Her movement called her attention to herself, and she found thatshe was dressed, not in her night-dress, as she had lain down, but in adress she did not know. She paused for a moment to look at it andwonder. She had never seen it before; she did not make out how it wasmade, or what stuff it was; but it fell so pleasantly about her, it wasso soft and light, that in her confused state she abandoned that subjectwith only an additional sense of pleasure. And now the atmosphere becamemore distinct to her. She saw that under her feet was a greenness as ofclose velvet turf, both cool and warm, cool and soft to touch, but withno damp in it, as might have been at that early hour, and with flowersshowing here and there. She stood looking round her, not able toidentify the landscape because she was still confused a little, and thenwalked softly on, all the time afraid lest she should awake and lose thesweetness of it all, and the sense of rest and happiness. She felt solight, so airy, as if she could skim across the field like any child. Itwas bliss enough to breathe and move with every organ so free. Aftermore than fifty years of hard service in the world to feel like this, even in a dream! She smiled to herself at her own pleasure; and thenonce more, yet more potently, there came back upon her the appearanceof her room in which she had fallen asleep. How had she got from thereto here? Had she been carried away in her sleep, or was it only a dream, and would she by and by find herself between the four dim walls again?Then this shadow of recollection faded away once more, and she movedforward, walking in a soft rapture over the delicious turf. Presentlyshe came to a little mound upon which she paused to look about her. Every moment she saw a little farther: blue hills far away, extending inlong sweet distance, an indefinite landscape, but fair and vast, so thatthere could be seen no end to it, not even the line of the horizon--saveat one side, where there seemed to be a great shadowy gateway, andsomething dim beyond. She turned from the brightness to look at this, and when she had looked for some time she saw what pleased her stillmore, though she had been so happy before--people coming in. They weretoo far off for her to see clearly, but many came, each apart, onefigure only at a time. To watch them amused her in the delightfulleisure of her mind. Who were they? she wondered; but no doubt soon someof them would come this way, and she would see. Then suddenly she seemedto hear, as if in answer to her question, some one say, "Those who arecoming in are the people who have died on earth. " "Died!" she said toherself aloud, with a wondering sense of the inappropriateness of theword, which almost came the length of laughter. In this sweet air, withsuch a sense of life about, to suggest such an idea was almostludicrous. She was so occupied with this that she did not look round tosee who the speaker might be. She thought it over, amused, but with somenew confusion of the mind. Then she said, "Perhaps I have died too, "with a laugh to herself at the absurdity of the thought. 

"Yes, " said the other voice, echoing that gentle laugh of hers, "youhave died too. "

She turned round and saw another standing by her--a woman, younger andfairer and more stately than herself, but of so sweet a countenance thatour little Pilgrim felt no shyness, but recognised a friend at once. Shewas more occupied looking at this new face, and feeling herself at onceso much happier (though she had been so happy before) in finding acompanion who could tell her what everything was, than in consideringwhat these words might mean. But just then once more the recollection ofthe four walls, with their little pictures hanging, and the window withits curtains drawn, seemed to come round her for a moment, so that herwhole soul was in a confusion. And as this vision slowly faded away(though she could not tell which was the vision, the darkened room orthis lovely light), her attention came back to the words at which shehad laughed, and at which the other had laughed as she repeated them. Died?--was it possible that this could be the meaning of it all. 

"Died?" she said, looking with wonder in her companion's face, whichsmiled back to her. "But do you mean--? You cannot mean--? I have neverbeen so well. I am so strong. I have no trouble anywhere. I am full oflife. "

The other nodded her beautiful head with a more beautiful smile, and thelittle Pilgrim burst out in a great cry of joy, and said--

"Is this all? Is it over?--is it all over? Is it possible that this canbe all?"

"Were you afraid of it?" the other said. There was a little agitationfor the moment in her heart. She was so glad, so relieved and thankful, that it took away her breath. She could not get over the wonder of it. 

"To think one should look forward to it so long, and wonder and be evenunhappy trying to divine what it will be--and this all!"

"Ah, but the angel was very gentle with you, " said the young woman. "You were so tender and worn that he only smiled and took you sleeping. There are other ways; but it is always wonderful to think it is over, asyou say. "

The little Pilgrim could do nothing but talk of it, as one does after avery great event. "Are you sure, quite sure, it is so?" she said. "Itwould be dreadful to find it only a dream, to go to sleep again, andwake up--there--" This thought troubled her for a moment. The vision ofthe bedchamber came back, but this time she felt it was only a vision. "Were you afraid too?" she said, in a low voice. 

"I never thought of it at all, " the beautiful stranger said. "I did notthink it would come to me; but I was very sorry for the others to whomit came, and grudged that they should lose the beautiful earth and life, and all that was so sweet. "

"My dear!" cried the Pilgrim, as if she had never died, "oh, but this isfar sweeter! and the heart is so light, and it is happiness only tobreathe. Is it heaven here? It must be heaven. "

"I do not know if it is heaven. We have so many things to learn. Theycannot tell you everything at once, " said the beautiful lady. "I haveseen some of the people I was sorry for, and when I told them, welaughed--as you and I laughed just now--for pleasure. "

"That makes me think, " said the little Pilgrim. "If I have died as yousay--which is so strange and me so living--if I have died, they willhave found it out. The house will be all dark, and they will be breakingtheir hearts. Oh, how could I forget them in my selfishness, and behappy! I so lighthearted while they--"

She sat down hastily and covered her face with her hands and wept. Theother looked at her for a moment, then kissed her for comfort and criedtoo. The two happy creatures sat there weeping together, thinking ofthose they had left behind, with an exquisite grief which was notunhappiness, which was sweet with love and pity. "And oh, " said thelittle Pilgrim, "what can we do to tell them not to grieve? Cannot yousend, cannot you speak--cannot one go to tell them?"

The heavenly stranger shook her head. 

"It is not well, they all say. Sometimes one has been permitted; butthey do not know you, " she said, with a pitiful look in her sweet eyes. "My mother told me that her heart was so sick for me, she was allowed togo; and she went and stood by me, and spoke to me, and I did not knowher. She came back so sad and sorry that they took her at once to ourFather, and there, you know, she found that it was all well. All is wellwhen you are there. "

"Ah, " said the little Pilgrim, "I have been thinking of other things--ofhow happy I was, and of _them_, but never of the Father--just as if Ihad not died. "

The other smiled upon her with a wonderful smile. 

"Do you think He will be offended--our Father? as if He were one ofus?" she said. 

And then the little Pilgrim, in her sudden grief to have forgotten Him, became conscious of a new rapture unexplainable in words. She felt Hisunderstanding to envelop her little spirit with a soft and clearpenetration, and that nothing she did or said could ever be misconceivedmore. "Will you take me to Him?" she said, trembling yet glad, claspingher hands. And once again the other shook her head. 

"They will take us both when it is time, " she said. "We do not go at ourown will. But I have seen our Brother--"

"Oh, take me to Him!" the little Pilgrim cried. "Let me see His face! Ihave so many things to say to Him. I want to ask him--Oh, take me towhere I can see His face!"

And then once again the heavenly lady smiled. 

"I have seen Him, " she said. "He is always about--now here, now there. He will come and see you perhaps when you are not thinking--but when Hepleases. We do not think here of what we will--"

The little Pilgrim sat very still, wondering at all this. She hadthought when a soul left the earth that it went at once to God, andthought of nothing more except worship and singing of praises. But thiswas different from her thoughts. She sat and pondered and wondered. Shewas baffled at many points. She was not changed as she expected, but somuch like herself still--still perplexed, and feeling herself foolish, not understanding, toiling after a something which she could not grasp. The only difference was that it was no trouble to her now. She smiled atherself, and at her dulness, feeling sure that by and by she wouldunderstand. 

"And don't you wonder too?" she said to her companion, which was aspeech such as she used to make upon the earth where people thought herlittle remarks disjointed, and did not always see the connection ofthem. But her friend of heaven knew what she meant. 

"I do nothing but wonder, " she said, "for it is all so natural--not whatwe thought. "

"Is it long since you have been here?" the Pilgrim said. 

"I came before you--but how long or how short I cannot tell, for that isnot how we count. We count only by what happens to us. And nothing yethas happened to me, except that I have seen our Brother. My mother seesHim always. That means she has lived here a long time and well--"

"Is it possible to live ill--in heaven?" The little Pilgrim's eyes grewlarge as if they were going to have tears in them, and a little shadowseemed to come over her. But the other laughed softly and restored herconfidence. 

"I have told you I do not know if it is heaven or not. No one does ill, but some do little and some do much, just as it used to be. Do youremember in Dante there was a lazy spirit that stayed about the gatesand never got farther? but perhaps you never read that. "

"I was not clever, " said the little Pilgrim, wistfully. "No, I neverread it. I wish I had known more. "

Upon which the beautiful lady kissed her again to give her courage, andsaid--

"It does not matter at all. It all comes to you whether you have knownit or not. "

"Then your mother came here long ago?" said the Pilgrim. "Ah, then Ishall see my mother too. "

"Oh, very soon--as soon as she can come; but there are so many things todo. Sometimes we can go and meet those who are coming, but it is notalways so. I remember that she had a message. She could not leave herbusiness, you may be sure, or she would have been here. "

"Then you know my mother? Oh, and my dearest father too?"

"We all know each other, " the lady said with a smile. 

"And you? did you come to meet me--only out of kindness, though I do notknow you?" the little Pilgrim said. 

"I am nothing but an idler, " said the beautiful lady, "makingacquaintance. I am of little use as yet. I was very hard worked before Icame here, and they think ft well that we should sit in the sun and takea little rest and find things out. "

Then the little Pilgrim sat still and mused, and felt in her heart thatshe had found many things out. What she had heard had been wonderful, and it was more wonderful still to be sitting here all alone save forthis lady, yet so happy and at ease. She wanted to sing, she was sohappy, but remembered that she was old and had lost her voice, and thenremembered again that she was no longer old, and perhaps had found itagain. And then it occurred to her to remember how she had learned tosing, and how beautiful her sister's voice was, and how heavenly to hearher, which made her remember that this dear sister would be weeping, not singing, down where she had come from--and immediately the tearsstood in her eyes. 

"Oh, " she said, "I never thought we should cry when we came here. Ithought there were no tears in heaven. "

"Did you think, then, that we were all turned into stone?" cried thebeautiful lady. "It says, God shall wipe away all tears from our faces, which is not like saying there are to be no tears. "

Upon which the little Pilgrim, glad that it was permitted to be sorry, though she was so happy, allowed herself to think upon the place she hadso lately left. And she seemed to see her little room again with all thepictures hanging as she had left them, and the house darkened, and thedear faces she knew all sad and troubled; and to hear them saying overto each other all the little careless words she had said as if they wereout of the Scriptures, and crying if any one but mentioned her name, and putting on crape and black dresses, and lamenting as if that whichhad happened was something very terrible. She cried at this and yet felthalf inclined to laugh, but would not because it would be disrespectfulto those she loved. One thing did not occur to her, and that was thatthey would be carrying her body, which she had left behind her, away tothe grave. She did not think of this because she was not aware of theloss, and felt far too much herself to think that there was another partof her being buried in the ground. From this she was aroused by hercompanion asking her a question. 

"Have you left many there?" she said. 

"No one, " said the little Pilgrim, "to whom I was the first on earth, but they loved me all the same; and if I could only, only let themknow--"

"But I left one to whom I was the first on earth, " said the other withtears in her beautiful eyes, "and oh, how glad I should be to be lesshappy if he might be less sad!"

"And you cannot go? you cannot go to him and tell him? Oh, I wish--"cried the little Pilgrim; but then she paused, for the wish died allaway in her heart into a tender love for this poor sorrowful man whomshe did not know. This gave her the sweetest pang she had ever felt, forshe knew that all was well, and yet was so sorry, and would havewillingly given up her happiness for his. All this the lady read in hereyes or her heart, and loved her for it; and they took hands and weresilent together, thinking of those they had left, as we upon earth thinkof those who have gone from us, but only with far more understanding, and far greater love. "And have you never been able to do anything forhim?" our Pilgrim said. 

Then the beautiful lady's face flushed all over with the most heavenlywarmth and light. Her smile ran over like the bursting out of the sun. "Oh, I will tell you, " she said. "There was a moment when he was verysad and perplexed, not knowing what to think. There was something hecould not understand; nor could I understand, nor did I know what it wasuntil it was said to me, 'You may go and tell him. ' And I went in theearly morning, before he was awake, and kissed him, and said it in hisear. He woke up in a moment and understood, and everything was clear tohim. Afterwards I heard him say, 'It is true that the night bringscounsel. I had been troubled and distressed all day long, but in themorning it was quite clear to me. ' And the other answered, 'Your brainwas refreshed, and that made your judgment clear. ' But they never knewit was I! That was a great delight. The dear souls! they are sofoolish, " she cried with the sweetest laughter that ran into tears. "Onecries because one is so happy; it is a silly old habit, " she said. 

"And you were not grieved, it did not hurt you--that he did not know--"

"Oh, not then; not then! I did not go to him for that. When you havebeen here a little longer you will see the difference. When you go foryourself, out of impatience, because it still seems to you that you mustknow best, and they don't know you--then it strikes to your heart; butwhen you go to help them--ah, " she cried, "when he comes how much Ishall have to tell him! 'You thought it was sleep when it was I--whenyou woke so fresh and clear it was I that kissed you; you thought ityour duty to me to be sad afterwards and were angry with yourselfbecause you had wronged me of the first thoughts of your waking--when itwas all me, all through!'"

"I begin to understand, " said the little Pilgrim; "but why should theynot see us, and why should not we tell them? It would seem so natural. If they saw us it would make them so happy, and so sure. "

Upon this the lady shook her head. 

"The worst of it is not that they are not sure--it is the parting. Ifthis makes us sorry here, how can they escape the sorrow of it even ifthey saw us?--for we must be parted. We cannot go back to live withthem, or why should we have died? And then we must all live ourlives--they in their way, we in ours. We must not weigh them down, butonly help them when it is seen that there is need for it. All this weshall know better by and by. "

"You make it so clear, and your face is so bright, " said our littlePilgrim gratefully. "You must have known a great deal, and understoodeven when you were in the world. "

"I was as foolish as I could be, " said the other, with her laugh thatwas as sweet as music; "yet thought I knew, and they thought I knew; butall that does not matter now. "

"I think it matters, for look how much you have shown me; but tell meone thing more--how was it said to you that you must go and tell him?Was it some one who spoke--was it--"

Her face grew so bright that all the past brightness was as a dull skyto this. It gave out such a light of happiness that the little Pilgrimwas dazzled. 

"I was wandering about, " she said, "to see this new place. My mother hadcome back between two errands she had, and had come to see me and tellme everything; and I was straying about wondering what I was to do, whensuddenly I saw some one coming along, as it might be now--"

She paused and looked up, and the little Pilgrim looked up too with herheart beating, but there was no one. Then she gave a little sigh, andturned and listened again. 

"I had not been looking for Him, or thinking. You know my mind is toolight. I am pleased with whatever is before me; and I was so curious, for my mother had told me many things: when suddenly I caught sight ofHim passing by. He was going on, and when I saw this a panic seized me, lest He should pass and say nothing. I do not know what I did. I flungmyself upon His robe, and got hold of it, or at least I think so. I wasin such an agony lest He should pass and never notice me. But that wasmy folly. He pass! As if that could be!"

"And what did He say to you?" cried the little Pilgrim, her heart almostaching it beat so high with sympathy and expectation. 

The lady looked at her for a little without saying anything. 

"I cannot tell you, " she said, "any more than I can tell if this isheaven. It is a mystery. When you see Him you will know. It will be allyou have ever hoped for and more besides, for He understands everything. He knows what is in our hearts about those we have left, and why He sentfor us before them. There is no need to tell Him anything; He knows. Hewill come when it is time; and after you have seen Him you will knowwhat to do. "

Then the beautiful lady turned her eyes towards the gate, and, while thelittle Pilgrim was still gazing, disappeared from her, and went tocomfort some other stranger. They were dear friends always, and metoften, but not again in the same way. 

 * * * * *

When she was thus left alone again, the little Pilgrim sat still uponthe grassy mound, quite tranquil and happy, without wishing to move. There was such a sense of wellbeing in her that she liked to sit thereand look about her, and breathe the delightful air, like the air of asummer morning, without wishing for anything. 

"How idle I am!" she said to herself, in the very words she had oftenused before she died; but then she was idle from weakness, and now fromhappiness. She wanted for nothing. To be alive was so sweet. There was agreat deal to think about in what she had heard, but she did not eventhink about that, only resigned herself to the delight of sitting therein the sweet air and being happy. Many people were coming and going, andthey all knew her, and smiled upon her, and those who were at a distancewould wave their hands. This did not surprise her at all, for thoughshe was a stranger, she, too, felt that she knew them all; but that theyshould be so kind was a delight to her which words could not tell. Shesat and mused very sweetly about all that had been told her, andwondered whether she, too, might go sometimes, and, with a kiss and awhisper, clear up something that was dark in the mind of some one wholoved her. "I that never was clever!" she said to herself, with a smile. And chiefly she thought of a friend whom she loved, who was often ingreat perplexity, and did not know how to guide herself amid thedifficulties of the world. 

The little Pilgrim half laughed with delight, and then half cried withlonging to go, as the beautiful lady had done, and make something clearthat had been dark before to this friend. As she was thinking what apleasure it would be, some one came up to her, crossing over the flowerygreenness, leaving the path on purpose. This was a being younger thanthe lady who had spoken to her before, with flowing hair all crispedwith touches of sunshine, and a dress all white and soft, like thefeathers of a white dove. There was something in her face different fromthat of the other, by which the little Pilgrim knew somehow, withoutknowing how, that she had come here as a child, and grown up in thiscelestial place. She was tall and fair, and came along with so musical amotion, as if her foot scarcely touched the ground, that she might havehad wings. And the little Pilgrim indeed was not sure as she watched, whether it might not perhaps be an angel, for she knew that there wereangels among the blessed people who were coming and going about, but hadnot been able yet to find one out. She knew that this new-comer wascoming to her, and turned towards her with a smile and a throb at herheart of expectation. But when the heavenly maiden drew nearer, herface, though it was so fair, looked to the Pilgrim like another face, which she had known very well--indeed, like the homely and troubled faceof the friend of whom she had been thinking. And so she smiled all themore, and held out her hands and said--"I am sure I know you, " uponwhich the other kissed her, and said, "We all know each other; but Ihave seen you often before you came here, " and knelt down by her, amongthe flowers that were growing, just in front of some tall lilies thatgrew over her, and made a lovely canopy over her head. There wassomething in her face that was like a child--her mouth so soft as if ithad never spoken anything but heavenly words, her eyes brown and goldenas if they were filled with light. She took the little Pilgrim's handsin hers, and held them and smoothed them between her own. These handshad been very thin and worn before, but now, when the Pilgrim looked atthem, she saw that they became softer and whiter every moment with thetouch of this immortal youth. 

"I knew you were coming, " said the maiden. "When my mother has wantedme I have seen you there. And you were thinking of her now--that was howI found you. "

"Do you know, then, what one thinks?" said the little Pilgrim withwondering eyes. 

"It is in the air; and when it concerns us it comes to us like thebreeze. But we who are the children here, we feel it more quickly thanyou. "

"Are you a child?" said the little Pilgrim, "or are you an angel?Sometimes you are like a child; but then your face shines and you arelike--you must have some name for it here; there is nothing among thewords I know. " And then she paused a little, still looking at her, andcried, "Oh, if she could but see you, little Margaret! That would do hermost good of all. "

Then the maiden Margaret shook her lovely head. "What does her most goodis the will of the Father, " she said. 

At this the little Pilgrim felt once more that thrill of expectationand awe. "Oh, child, you have seen Him?" she cried. 

And the other smiled. "Have you forgotten who they are that alwaysbehold His face? We have never had any fear or trembling. We are notangels, and there is no other name; we are the children. There issomething given to us beyond the others. We have had no other home. "

"Oh, tell me, tell me!" the little Pilgrim cried. 

Upon this Margaret kissed her, putting her soft cheek against hers, andsaid, "It is a mystery; it cannot be put into words; in your time youwill know. "

"When you touch me you change me, and I grow like you, " the Pilgrimsaid. "Ah, if she could see us together, you and me! And will you go toher soon again? And do you see them always--what they are doing? andtake care of them?"

"It is our Father who takes care of them, and our Lord who is ourBrother. I do His errands when I am able. Sometimes He will let me go, sometimes another, according as it is best. Who am I that I should takecare of them? I serve them when I may. "

"But you do not forget them?" the Pilgrim said, with wistful eyes. 

"We love them always, " said Margaret. She was more still than the ladywho had first spoken with the Pilgrim. Her countenance was full of aheavenly calm. It had never known passion nor anguish. Sometimes therewas in it a far-seeing look of vision, sometimes the simplicity of achild. "But what are we in comparison? For He loves them more than wedo. When He keeps us from them it is for love. We must each live our ownlife. "

"But it is hard for them sometimes, " said the little Pilgrim, who couldnot withdraw her thoughts from those she had left. 

"They are never forsaken, " said the angel-maiden. 

"But oh! there are worse things than sorrow, " the little Pilgrim said;"there is wrong, there is evil, Margaret. Will not He send you to stepin before them, to save them from wrong?"

"It is not for us to judge, " said the young Margaret, with eyes full ofheavenly wisdom. "Our Brother has it all in His hand. We do not readtheir hearts like Him. Sometimes you are permitted to see the battle. "

The little Pilgrim covered her eyes with her hands. "I could not--Icould not! unless I knew they were to win the day. "

"They will win the day in the end. But sometimes, when it was beinglost, I have seen in His face a something--I cannot tell--more love thanbefore. Something that seemed to say, 'My child, my child, would that Icould do it for thee, my child!'"

"Oh! that is what I have always felt, " cried the Pilgrim, clasping herhands; her eyes were dim, her heart for a moment almost forgot itsblessedness. "But He could--Oh, little Margaret! He could! You haveforgotten--Lord, if Thou wilt Thou canst--"

The child of heaven looked at her mutely, with sweet grave eyes, inwhich there was much that confused her who was a stranger here; and oncemore softly shook her head. 

"Is it that He will not, then?" said the other with a low voice of awe. "Our Lord who died--He--"

"Listen, " said the other, "I hear His step on the way. "

The little Pilgrim rose up from the mound on which she was sitting. Hersoul was confused with wonder and fear. She had thought that an angelmight step between a soul on earth and sin, and that if one but prayedand prayed, the dear Lord would stand between and deliver the tempted. She had meant when she saw His face to ask Him to save Was not He born, did not He live, and die to save? The angel-maiden looked at her all thewhile, with eyes that understood all her perplexity and her doubt, butspoke not. Thus it was that before the Lord came to her the sweetness ofher first blessedness was obscured, and she found that here, too, evenhere, though in a moment she should see Him, there was need for faith. Young Margaret, who had been kneeling by her, rose up too and stoodamong the lilies, waiting, her soft countenance shining, her eyes turnedtowards Him who was coming. Upon her there was no cloud nor doubt. Shewas one of the children of that land familiar with His presence. And inthe air there was a sound such as those who hear it alone candescribe--a sound as of help coming and safety, like the sound of adeliverer when one is in deadly danger, like the sound of a conqueror, like the step of the dearest-beloved coming home. As it came nearer thefear melted away out of the beating heart of the Pilgrim. Who could fearso near Him? her breath went away from her, her heart out of her bosom, to meet His coming. Oh, never fear could live where He was! Her soul wasall confused, but it was with hope and joy. She held out her hands inthat amaze, and dropped upon her knees, not knowing what she did. 

He was going about His Father's business, not lingering, yet neithermaking haste; and the calm and peace which the little Pilgrim had seenin the faces of the blessed were but reflections from the majesticgentleness of the countenance to which, all quivering with happiness andwonder, she lifted up her eyes. Many things there had been in her mindto say to Him. She wanted to ask for those she loved some things whichperhaps He had overlooked. She wanted to say, "Send me. " It seemed toher that here was the occasion she had longed for all her life. Oh, howmany times had she wished to be able to go to Him, to fall at His feet, to show Him something which had been left undone, something whichperhaps for her asking He would remember to do. But when this dream ofher life was fulfilled, and the little Pilgrim kneeling, and all shakenand trembling with devotion and joy, was at His feet, lifting her faceto Him, seeing Him, hearing Him--then she said nothing to Him at all. She no longer wanted to say anything, or wanted anything except what Hechose, or had power to think of anything except that all was well, andeverything--everything, as it should be in His hand. It seemed to herthat all that she had ever hoped for was fulfilled when she met the lookin His eyes. At first it seemed too bright for her to meet, but nextmoment she knew it was all that was needed to light up the world, and init everything was clear. Her trembling ceased, her little frame grewinspired; though she still knelt, her head rose erect, drawn to Him likethe flower to the sun. She could not tell how long it was, nor what wassaid, nor if it was in words. All that she knew was that she told Himall that ever she had thought, or wished, or intended in all her life, although she said nothing at all; and that He opened all things to her, and showed her that everything was well, and no one forgotten; and thatthe things she would have told Him of were more near His heart thanhers, and those to whom she wanted to be sent were in His own hand. Butwhether this passed with words or without words she could not tell. Hersoul expanded under His eyes like a flower. It opened out, itcomprehended, and felt, and knew. She smote her hands together in herwonder that she could have missed seeing what was so clear, and laughedwith a sweet scorn at her folly, as two people who love each other laughat the little misunderstanding that has parted them. She was bold withHim, though she was so timid by nature, and ventured to laugh atherself, not to reproach herself--for His divine eyes spoke no blame, but smiled upon her folly too. And then He laid a hand upon her head, which seemed to fill her with currents of strength and joy runningthrough all her veins. And then she seemed to come to herself sayingloud out, "And that I will! and that I will!" and lo, she was kneelingon the warm soft sod alone, and hearing the sound of His footsteps as Hewent about His Father's business, filling all the air with echoes ofblessing. And all the people who were coming and going smiled upon her, and she knew they were all glad for her that she had seen Him, and gotthe desire of her heart. Some of them waved their hands as they passed, and some paused a moment and spoke to her with tender congratulations. They seemed to have the tears in their eyes for joy, remembering everyone the first time they had themselves seen Him, and the joy of it; sothat all about there sounded a concord of happy thoughts all echoing toeach other, "She has seen the Lord!"

Why did she say, "And that I will! and that I will!" with such fervourand delight? She could not have told but yet she knew. The first thingwas that she had yet to wait and believe until all things should beaccomplished, neither doubting nor fearing, but knowing that all shouldbe well; and the second was that she must delay no longer, but rise upand serve the Father according to what was given her as her reward. Whenshe had recovered a little of her rapture she rose from her knees, andstood still for a moment to be sure which way she was to go. And she wasnot aware what guided her, but yet turned her face in the appointed waywithout any doubt. For doubt was now gone away for ever, and that fearthat once gave her so much trouble lest she might not be doing what wasbest. As she moved along she wondered at herself more and more. She feltno longer, as at first, like the child she remembered to have been, venturing out in the awful lovely stillness of the morning before anyone was awake; but she felt that to move along was a delight, and thather foot scarcely touched the grass, and her whole being was instinctwith such lightness of strength and life that it did not matter to herhow far she went, nor what she carried, nor if the way was easy or hard. The way she chose was one of those which led to the great gate, and manymet her coming from thence, with looks that were somewhat bewildered, asif they did not yet know whither they were going or what had happened tothem. Upon whom she smiled as she passed them with soft looks oftenderness and sympathy, knowing what they were feeling, but did notstop to explain to them, because she had something else that had beengiven her to do. For this is what always follows in that country whenyou meet the Lord, that you instantly know what it is that He would haveyou do. 

The little Pilgrim thus went on and on towards the gate, which she hadnot seen when she herself came through it, having been lifted in Hisarms by the great Death Angel, and set down softly inside, so that shedid not know it, or even the shadow of it. As she drew nearer the lightbecame less bright, though very sweet, like a lovely dawn, and shewondered to herself to think that she had been here but a moment ago, and yet so much had passed since then. And still she was not aware whatwas her errand, but wondered if she was to go back by these same gates, and perhaps return where she had been. She went up to them very closely, for she was curious to see the place through which she had come in hersleep, as a traveller goes back to see the city gate, with its bridgeand portcullis, through which he has passed by night. The gate was verygreat, of a wonderful, curious architecture, and strange, delicatearches and canopies above. Some parts of them seemed cut very clean andclear; but the outlines were all softened with a sort of mist andshadow, so that it looked greater and higher than it was. The lower partwas not one great doorway as the Pilgrim had supposed, but innumerabledoors, all separate, and very narrow, so that but one could pass at atime, though the arch enclosed all, and seemed filled with great foldinggates in which the smaller doors were set, so that if need arose a vastopening might be made for many to enter. Of the little doors many wereshut as the Pilgrim approached; but from moment to moment, one afteranother would be pushed softly open from without, and some one wouldcome in. The little Pilgrim looked at it all with great interest, wondering which of the doors she had herself come by; but while shestood absorbed by this, a door was suddenly pushed open close by her, and some one flung forward into the blessed country, falling upon theground, and stretched out wild arms as though to clutch the very soil. This sight gave the Pilgrim a great surprise, for it was the first timeshe had heard any sound of pain, or seen any sight of trouble, since sheentered here. In that moment she knew what it was that the dear Lord hadgiven her to do. She had no need to pause to think, for her heart toldher; and she did not hesitate as she might have done in the other life, not knowing what to say. She went forward, and gathered this poorcreature into her arms, as if it had been a child, and drew her quitewithin the land of peace--for she had fallen across the threshold, so asto hinder any one entering who might be coming after her. It was awoman, and she had flung herself upon her face, so that it was difficultfor the little Pilgrim to see what manner of person it was, for thoughshe felt herself strong enough to take up this new-comer in her arms andcarry her away, yet she forbore, seeing the will of the stranger was notso. For some time the woman lay moaning, with now and then a great sobshaking her as she lay. The little Pilgrim had taken her by both herarms, and drawn her head to rest upon her own lap, and was still holdingthe hands, which the poor creature had thrown out as if to clutch theground. Thus she lay for a little while, as the little Pilgrimremembered she herself had lain, not wishing to move, wondering what hadhappened to her; and then she clutched the hands which grasped her, andsaid, muttering--

"You are some one new. Have you come to save me? Oh, save me! Oh, saveme! Don't let me die!"

This was very strange to the little Pilgrim, and went to her heart. Shesoothed the stranger, holding her hands warm and light, and stoopingover her. 

"Dear, " she said, "you must try and not be afraid. "

"You say so, " said the woman, "because you are well and strong. Youdon't know what it is to be seized in the middle of your life, and toldthat you've got to die. Oh, I have been a sinful creature! I am not fitto die. Can't you give me something that will cure me? What is the goodof doctors and nurses if they cannot save a poor soul that is not fit todie?"

At this the little Pilgrim smiled upon her, always holding her fast, andsaid--

"Why are you so afraid to die?"

The woman raised her head to look who it was who put such a strangequestion to her. 

"You are some one new, " she said. "I have never seen you before. Isthere anyone that is not afraid to die? Would _you_ like to have to giveyour account all in a moment, without any time to prepare?"

"But you have had time to prepare, " said the Pilgrim. 

"Oh, only a very very little time; and I never thought it was true. I amnot an old woman, and I am not fit to die; and I'm poor. Oh, if I wererich, I would bribe you to give me something to keep me alive. Won't youdo it for pity?--won't you do it for pity? When you are as bad as I am, oh, you will perhaps call for some one to help you, and find nobody, like me. "

"I will help you for love, " said the little Pilgrim. "Some one who lovesyou has sent me. "

The woman lifted herself up a little and shook her head. "There isnobody that loves me. " Then she cast her eyes round her and began totremble again (for the touch of the little Pilgrim had stilled her). "Oh, where am I?" she said. "They have taken me away; they have broughtme to a strange place; and you are new. Oh, where have they takenme?--where am I?--where am I?" she cried. "Have they brought me here todie?"

Then the little Pilgrim bent over her and soothed her. "You must not beso much afraid of dying; that is all over. You need not fear that anymore, " she said, softly; "for here where you now are we have all died. "

The woman started up out of her arms, and then she gave a great shriekthat made the air ring, and cried out, "Dead! am I dead?" with a shudderand convulsion, throwing herself again wildly with outstretched handsupon the ground. 

This was a great and terrible work for the little Pilgrim--the first shehad ever had to do--and her heart failed her for a moment; butafterwards she remembered our Brother who sent her, and knew what wasbest. She drew closer to the new-comer and took her hand again. 

"Try, " she said, in a soft voice, "and think a little. Do you feel nowso ill as you were? Do not be frightened, but think a little. I willhold your hand; and look at me; you are not afraid of me. "

The poor creature shuddered again, and then she turned her face andlooked doubtfully with great dark eyes dilated, and the brow and cheekso curved and puckered round them that they seemed to glow out of deepcaverns. Her face was full of anguish and fear. But as she looked atthe little Pilgrim her troubled gaze softened. Of her own accord sheclasped her other hand upon the one that held hers, and then she saidwith a gasp--

"I am not afraid of you; that was not true that you said? You are one ofthe sisters, and you want to frighten me and make me repent?"

"You do repent, " the Pilgrim said. 

"Oh, " cried the poor woman, "what has the like of you to do with me? NowI look at you I never saw any one that was like you before. Don't youhate me?--don't you loathe me? I do myself. It's so ugly to go wrong. Ithink now I would almost rather die and be done with it. You will saythat is because I am going to get better. I feel a great deal betternow. Do you think I am going to get over it? Oh, I am better! I couldget up out of bed and walk about. Yes, but I am not in bed; where haveyou brought me? Never mind, it is a fine air; I shall soon get wellhere. "

The Pilgrim was silent for a little, holding her hands. And then shesaid--

"Tell me how you feel now, " in her soft voice. 

The woman had sat up and was gazing round her. "It is very strange, " shesaid; "it is all confused. I think upon my mother and the old prayers Iused to say. For a long, long time I always said my prayers; but nowI've got hardened, they say. Oh, I was once as fresh as any one. It allcomes over me now. I feel as if I were young again--just come out of thecountry. I am sure that I could walk. "

The little Pilgrim raised her up, holding her by her hands; and shestood and gazed round about her, making one or two doubtful steps. Shewas very pale, and the light was dim; her eyes peered into it with ascared yet eager look. She made another step, then stopped again. 

"I am quite well, " she said. "I could walk a mile. I could walk anydistance. What was that you said? Oh, I tell you I am better! I am notgoing to die. "

"You will never, never die, " said the little Pilgrim; "are you not gladit is all over? Oh, I was so glad! And all the more you should be gladif you were so much afraid. "

But this woman was not glad. She shrank away from her companion, thencame close to her again, and gripped her with her hands. 

"It is your fun, " she said, "or just to frighten me; perhaps you thinkit will do me no harm as I am getting so well--you want to frighten meto make me good. But I mean to be good without that--I do! I do! Whenone is so near dying as I have been and yet gets better--for I am goingto get better? Yes! you know it as well as I. "

The little Pilgrim made no reply, but stood by looking at her charge, not feeling that anything was given her to say; and she was so new tothis work that there was a little trembling in her lest she should notdo everything as she ought. And the woman looked round with thoseanxious eyes gazing all about. The light did not brighten as it had donewhen the Pilgrim herself first came to this place. For one thing theyhad remained quite close to the gate, which no doubt threw a shadow. Thewoman looked at that, and then turned and looked into the dim morning, and did not know where she was, and her heart was confused and troubled. 

"Where are we?" she said. "I do not know where it is; they must havebrought me here in my sleep--where are we? How strange to bring a sickwoman away out of her room in her sleep! I suppose it was the newdoctor, " she went on, looking very closely in the little Pilgrim's face, then paused, and, drawing a long breath, said softly, "It has done megood. It is better air--it is a new kind of cure. "

But though she spoke like this, she did not convince herself; her eyeswere wild with wondering and fear. She gripped the Pilgrim's arm moreand more closely, and trembled, leaning upon her. 

"Why don't you speak to me?" she said; "why don't you tell me? Oh, Idon't know how to live in this place! What do you do?--how do you speak?I am not fit for it. And what are you? I never saw you before nor anyone like you. What do you want with me? Why are you so kind to me?Why--why--?"

And here she went off into a murmur of questions. Why? why? alwaysholding fast by the little Pilgrim, always gazing round her, groping asit were in the dimness with her great eyes. 

"I have come because our dear Lord, who is our Brother, sent me to meetyou, and because I love you, " the little Pilgrim said. 

"Love me!" the woman cried, throwing up her hands, "but no one loves me. I have not deserved it. " Here she grasped her close again with a suddenclutch, and cried out, "If this is what you say, where is God?"

"Are you afraid of Him?" the little Pilgrim said. 

Upon which the woman trembled so that the Pilgrim trembled too with thequivering of her frame; then loosed her hold and fell upon her face, andcried--

"Hide me! Hide me! I have been a great sinner. Hide me that He may notsee me, " and with one hand tried to draw the Pilgrim's dress as a veilbetween her and something she feared. 

"How should I hide you from Him who is everywhere? and why should I hideyou from your Father?" the little Pilgrim said. This she said almostwith indignation, wondering that any one could put more trust in her, who was no better than a child, than in the Father of all. But then shesaid, "Look in your heart and you will see you are not so much afraid asyou think. This is how you have been accustomed to frighten yourself. But look now into your heart. You thought you were very ill at first, but not now; and you think you are afraid, but look in your heart--"

There was a silence, and then the woman raised her head with a wonderfullook, in which there was amazement and doubt, as if she had heard somejoyful thing but dared not yet believe that it was true. Once more shehid her face in her hands, and once more raised it again. Her eyessoftened; a long sigh or gasp, like one taking breath after drowning, shook her breast. Then she said, "I think that is true. But if I am notafraid it is because I am--bad. It is because I am hardened. Oh, shouldnot I fear Him who can send me away into--the lake that burns--into thepit--" And here she gave a great cry, but held the little Pilgrim allthe while with her eyes, which seem to plead and ask for better news. 

Then there came into the Pilgrim's heart what to say, and she took thewoman's hand again and held it between her own. "That is the change, "she said, "that comes when we come here. We are not afraid any more ofour Father. We are not all happy. Perhaps you will not be happy atfirst. But if he says to you go--even to that place you speak of--youwill know that it is well, and you will not be afraid. You are notafraid now--oh, I can see it in your eyes. You are not happy, but youare not afraid. You know it is the Father. Do not say God, that is faroff--Father!" said the little Pilgrim, holding up the woman's handclasped in her own. And there came into her soul an ecstasy, and tearsthat were tears of blessedness fell from her eyes, and all about herthere seemed to shine a light. When she came to herself, the woman whowas her charge had come quite close to her, and had added her other handto that the Pilgrim held, and was weeping, and saying, "I am notafraid, " with now and then a gasp and sob, like a child who, after apassion of tears, has been consoled, yet goes on sobbing and cannotquite forget, and is afraid to own that all is well again. Then thePilgrim kissed her, and bade her rest a little, for even she herselffelt shaken, and longed for a little quiet and to feel the true sense ofthe peace that was in her heart. She sat down beside her upon theground, and made her lean her head against her shoulder, and thus theyremained very still for a little time, saying no more. It seemed to thelittle Pilgrim that her companion had fallen asleep, and perhaps it wasso, after so much agitation. All this time there had been peoplepassing, entering by the many doors. And most of them paused a little tosee where they were, and looked round them, then went on; and it seemedto the little Pilgrim that, according to the doors by which theyentered, each took a different way. While she watched, another came inby the same door as that at which the woman who was her charge had comein. And he too stumbled and looked about him with an air of greatwonder and doubt. When he saw her seated on the ground, he came up toher, hesitating as one in a strange place who does not want to betraythat he is bewildered and has lost his way. He came with a littlepretence of smiling, though his countenance was pale and scared, andsaid, drawing his breath quick, "I ought to know where I am, but I havelost my head, I think. Will you tell me which is the way?"

"What way?" cried the little Pilgrim, for her strength was gone fromher, and she had no word to say to him. He looked at her with thatbewilderment on his face, and said, "I find myself strange, strange. Iought to know where I am; but it is scarcely daylight yet. It is perhapsfoolish to come out so early in the morning. " This he said in hisconfusion, not knowing where he was, nor what he said. 

"I think all the ways lead to our Father, " said the little Pilgrim(though she had not known this till now). "And the dear Lord walksabout them all. Here you never go astray. "

Upon this the stranger looked at her, and asked in a faltering voice, "Are you an angel?" still not knowing what he said. 

"Oh, no, no. I am only a Pilgrim, " she replied. 

"May I sit by you a little?" said the man. He sat down drawing longbreaths as though he had gone through great fatigue; and looked aboutwith wondering eyes. "You will wonder, but I do not know where I am, " hesaid. "I feel as if I must be dreaming. This is not where I expected tocome. I looked for something very different; do you think there can havebeen any mistake?"

"Oh, never that, " she said; "there are no mistakes here. "

Then he looked at her again, and said--

"I perceive that you belong to this country, though you say you are apilgrim. I should be grateful if you would tell me Does one live here?And is this all? Is there no--no--? but I don't know what word to use. All is so strange, different from what I expected. "

"Do you know that you have died?"

"Yes, yes, I am quite acquainted with that, " he said, hurriedly, as ifit had been an idea he disliked to dwell upon. "But then I expected--Isthere no one to tell you where to go, or what you are to be--? or totake any notice of you?"

The little Pilgrim was startled by this tone. She did not understand itsmeaning, and she had not any word to say to him. She looked at him withas much bewilderment as he had shown when he approached her, andreplied, faltering--

"There are a great many people here; but I have never heard if there isany one to tell you--"

"What does it matter how many people there are if you know none ofthem?" he said. 

"We all know each other, " she answered him; but then paused andhesitated a little, because this was what had been said to her, and ofherself she was not assured of it, neither did she know at all how todeal with this stranger, to whom she had not any commission. It seemedthat he had no one to care for him, and the little Pilgrim had a senseof compassion, yet of trouble, in her heart--for what could she say? Andit was very strange to her to see one who was not content here. 

"Ah, but there should be some one to point out the way, and tell uswhich is our circle, and where we ought to go, " he said. And then he toowas silent for a while, looking about him, as all were fain to do ontheir first arrival, finding everything so strange. There were peoplecoming in at every moment, and some were met at the very threshold, andsome went away alone, with peaceful faces; and there were many groupsabout, talking together in soft voices, but no one interrupted theother; and though so many were there, each voice was as clear as if ithad spoken alone, and there was no tumult of sound as when many peopleassemble together in the lower world. 

The little Pilgrim wondered to find herself with the woman resting uponher on one side, and the man seated silent on the other, neither having, it appeared, any guide but only herself who knew so little. How was sheto lead them in the paths which she did not know?--and she was exhaustedby the agitation of her struggle with the woman whom she felt to be hercharge. But in this moment of silence she had time to remember the faceof the Lord, when He gave her this commission, and her heart wasstrengthened. The man all this time sat and watched, looking eagerly allabout him, examining the faces of those who went and came: and sometimeshe made a little start as if to go and speak to some one he knew; butalways drew back again and looked at the little Pilgrim, as if he hadsaid, "This is the one who will serve me best. " He spoke to her againafter a while and said, "I suppose you are one of the guides that showthe way. "

"No, " said the little Pilgrim, anxiously, "I know so little! It is notlong since I came here. I came in the early morning--"

"Why, it is morning now. You could not come earlier than it is now. Youmean yesterday. "

"I think, " said the Pilgrim, "that yesterday is the other side; there isno yesterday here. "

He looked at her with the keen look he had, to understand her thebetter; and then he said--

"No division of time! I think that must be monotonous. It will bestrange to have no night; but I suppose one gets used to everything. Ihope though there is something to do. I have always lived a very busylife. Perhaps this is just a little pause before we go--to be--tohave--to get our--appointed place. "

He had an uneasy look as he said this, and looked at her with an anxiouscuriosity, which the little Pilgrim did not understand. 

"I do not know, " she said softly, shaking her head. "I have so littleexperience. I have not been told of an appointed place. "

The man looked at her very strangely. 

"I did not think, " he said, "that I should have found such ignorancehere. Is it not well known that we must all appear before the judgmentseat of God?"

These words seemed to cause a trembling in the still air, and the womanon the other side raised herself suddenly up, clasping her hands: andsome of those who had just entered heard the words, and came and crowdedabout the little Pilgrim, some standing, some falling down upon theirknees, all with their faces turned towards her. She who had always beenso simple and small, so little used to teach; she was frightened withthe sight of all these strangers crowding, hanging upon her lips, looking to her for knowledge. She knew not what to do or what to say. The tears came into her eyes. 

"Oh, " she said, "I do not know anything about a judgment seat. I knowthat our Father is here, and that when we are in trouble we are taken toHim to be comforted, and that our dear Lord our Brother is among usevery day, and every one may see Him. Listen, " she said, standing upsuddenly among them, feeling strong as an angel. "I have seen Him;though I am nothing, so little as you see, and often silly, never cleveras some of you are, I have seen Him! and so will all of you. There is nomore that I know of, " she said softly, clasping her hands. "When you seeHim it comes into your heart what you must do. "

And then there was a murmur of voices about her, some saying that wasbest, and some wondering if that were all, and some crying if He wouldbut come now--while the little Pilgrim stood among them with her faceshining, and they all looked at her, asking her to tell them more, toshow them how to find Him. But this was far above what she could do, forshe too was not much more than a stranger, and had little strength. Shewould not go back a step, nor desert those who were so anxious to know, though her heart fluttered almost as it had used to do before she died, what with her longing to tell them, and knowing that she had no more tosay. 

But in that land it is never permitted that one who stands bravely andfails not shall be left without succour; for it is no longer needfulthere to stand even to death, since all dying is over, and all souls aretested. When it was seen that the little Pilgrim was thus surrounded byso many that questioned her, there suddenly came about her many othersfrom the brightness out of which she had come, who, one going to onehand, and one to another, safely led them into the ways in which theircourse lay: so that the Pilgrim was free to lead forth the woman whohad been given her in charge, and whose path lay in a dim, but pleasantcountry, outside of that light and gladness in which the Pilgrim's homewas. 

"But, " she said, "you are not to fear or be cast down, because He goeslikewise by these ways, and there is not a corner in all this land butHe is to be seen passing by; and He will come and speak to you, and layHis hand upon you; and afterwards everything will be clear, and you willknow what you are to do. "

"Stay with me till He comes--oh, stay with me, " the woman cried, clinging to her arm. 

"Unless another is sent, " the little Pilgrim said. And it was nothing toher that the air was less bright there, for her mind was full of light, so that, though her heart still fluttered a little with all that hadpassed, she had no longing to return, nor to shorten the way, but wentby the lower road sweetly, with the stranger hanging upon her, who wasstronger and taller than she. Thus they went on, and the Pilgrim toldher all she knew, and everything that came into her heart. And so fullwas she of the great things she had to say, that it was a surprise toher, and left her trembling, when suddenly the woman took away herclinging hand, and flew forward with arms outspread and a cry of joy. The little Pilgrim stood still to see, and on the path before them was achild, coming towards them singing, with a look such as is never seenbut upon the faces of children who have come here early, and who beholdthe face of the Father, and have never known fear nor sorrow. The womanflew and fell at the child's feet, and he put his hand upon her, andraised her up, and called her "mother. " Then he smiled upon the littlePilgrim, and led her away. 

"Now she needs me no longer, " said the Pilgrim; and it was a surprise toher, and for a moment she wondered in herself if it was known that thischild should come so suddenly and her work be over; and also how she wasto return again to the sweet place among the flowers from which she hadcome. But when she turned to look if there was any way, she found Onestanding by such as she had not yet seen. This was a youth, with a facejust touched with manhood, as at the moment when the boy ends, when allis still fresh and pure in the heart; but he was taller and greater thana man. 

"I am sent, " he said, "little sister, to take you to the Father: becauseyou have been very faithful, and gone beyond your strength. "

And he took the little Pilgrim by the hand, and she knew he was anangel; and immediately the sweet air melted about them into light, and ahush came upon her of all thought and all sense, attending till sheshould receive the blessing, and her new name, and see what is beyondtelling, and hear and understand:--

THE LITTLE PILGRIM GOES UP HIGHER. 

When the little Pilgrim came out of the presence of the Father, shefound herself in the street of a great city. But what she saw and heardwhen she was with Him it is not given to the tongue of mortal to say, for it is beyond words, and beyond even thought. As the mystery of loveis not to be spoken but to be felt, even in the lower earth, so, butmuch less, is that great mystery of the love of the Father to beexpressed in words. The little Pilgrim was very happy when she went intothat sacred place, but there was a great awe upon her, and it might evenbe said that she was afraid; but when she came out again she fearednothing, but looked with clear eyes upon all she saw, loving them, butno more overawed by them, having seen that which is above all. When shecame forth again to her common life--for it is not permitted save forthose who have attained the greatest heights to dwell there--she had nolonger need of any guide, but came alone, knowing where to go, andwalking where it pleased her, with reverence and a great delight inseeing and knowing all that was around, but no fear. It was a greatcity, but it was not like the great cities which she had seen. Sheunderstood as she passed along how it was that those who had beendazzled but by a passing glance had described the walls and the pavementas gold. They were like what gold is, beautiful and clear, of a lovelycolour, but softer in tone than metal ever was, and as cool and fresh towalk upon and to touch as if they had been velvet grass. The buildingswere all beautiful, of every style and form that it is possible to thinkof, yet in great harmony, as if every man had followed his own taste, yet all had been so combined and grouped by the master architect, thateach individual feature enhanced the effect of the rest. Some of thehouses were greater and some smaller, but all of them were rich incarvings and pictures and lovely decorations, and the effect was as ifthe richest materials had been employed, marbles and beautifulsculptured stone, and wood of beautiful tints, though the little Pilgrimknew that these were not like the marble and stone she had once known, but heavenly representatives of them, far better than they. There werepeople at work upon them, building new houses and making additions, anda great many painters painting upon them the history of the people wholived there, or of others who were worthy that commemoration. And thestreets were full of pleasant sound, and of crowds going and coming, andthe commotion of much business, and many things to do. And thismovement, and the brightness of the air, and the wonderful things thatwere to be seen on every side, made the Pilgrim gay, so that she couldhave sung with pleasure as she went along. And all who met her smiled, and every group exchanged greetings as they passed along, all knowingeach other. Many of them, as might be seen, had come there, as she did, to see the wonders of the beautiful city; and all who lived there wereready to tell them whatever they desired to know, and show them thefinest houses and the greatest pictures. And this gave a feeling ofholiday and pleasure which was delightful beyond description, for allthe busy people about were full of sympathy with the strangers--biddingthem welcome, inviting them into their houses, making the warmestfellowship. And friends were meeting continually on every side; but thePilgrim had no sense that she was forlorn in being alone, for all werefriends; and it pleased her to watch the others, and see how one turnedthis way and one another, every one finding something that delightedhim above all other things. She herself took a great pleasure inwatching a painter, who was standing upon a balcony a little way aboveher, painting upon a great fresco: and when he saw this he asked her tocome up beside him and see his work. She asked him a great manyquestions about it, and why it was that he was working only at thedraperies of the figures, and did not touch their faces, some of whichwere already finished and seemed to be looking at her, as living as shewas, out of the wall, while some were merely outlined as yet. He toldher that he was not a great painter to do this, or to design the greatwork, but that the master would come presently, who had the chiefresponsibility. "For we have not all the same genius, " he said, "and ifI were to paint this head it would not have the gift of life as that onehas; but to stand by and see him put it in, you cannot think what ahappiness that is: for one knows every touch, and just what effect itwill have, though one could not do it one's self; and it is a wonder anda delight perpetual that it should be done. "

The little Pilgrim looked up at him and said, "That is very beautiful tosay. And do you never wish to be like him--to make the lovely, livingfaces as well as the other parts?"

"Is not this lovely too?" he said; and showed her how he had just put ina billowy robe, buoyed out with the wind, and sweeping down from theshoulders of a stately figure in such free and graceful folds that shewould have liked to take it in her hand and feel the silken texture; andthen he told her how absorbing it was to study the mysteries of colourand the differences of light. "There is enough in that to make onehappy, " he said. "It is thought by some that we will all come to thehigher point with work and thought; but that is not my feeling; andwhether it is so or not what does it matter, for our Father makes nodifference: and all of us are necessary to everything that is done: andit is almost more delight to see the master do it than to do it withone's own hand. For one thing, your own work may rejoice you in yourheart, but always with a little trembling, because it is never soperfect as you would have it--whereas in your master's work you havefull content, because his idea goes beyond yours, and as he makes everytouch you can feel 'that is right--that is complete--that is just as itought to be. ' Do you understand what I mean?" he said, turning to herwith a smile. 

"I understand it perfectly, " she cried, clasping her hands together withthe delight of accord. "Don't you think that is one of the things thatare so happy here? you understand at half a word. "

"Not everybody, " he said, and smiled upon her like a brother; "for weare not all alike even here. "

"Were you a painter?" she said, "in--in the other--?"

"In the old times. I was one of those that strove for the mastery, andsometimes grudged--We remember these things at times, " he said gravely, "to make us more aware of the blessedness of being content. "

"It is long since then?" she said with some wistfulness; upon which hesmiled again. 

"So long, " he said, "that we have worn out most of our links to theworld below. We have all come away, and those who were after us forgenerations. But you are a new-comer. "

"And are they all with you? are you all together? do you live as in theold time?"

Upon this the painter smiled, but not so brightly as before. 

"Not as in the old time, " he said, "nor are they all here. Some arestill upon the way, and of some we have no certainty, only news fromtime to time. The angels are very good to us. They never miss anoccasion to bring us news; for they go everywhere, you know. "

"Yes, " said the little Pilgrim, though indeed she had not known it tillnow; but it seemed to her as if it had come to her mind by nature andshe had never needed to be told. 

"They are so tender-hearted, " the painter said; "and more than that, they are very curious about men and women. They have known it all fromthe beginning, and it is a wonder to them. There is a friend of mine, anangel, who is more wise in men's hearts than any one I know; and yet hewill say to me sometimes, 'I do not understand you--you are wonderful. 'They like to find out all we are thinking. It is an endless pleasure tothem, just as it is to some of us to watch the people in the otherworlds. "

"Do you mean--where we have come from?" said the little Pilgrim. 

"Not always there. We in this city have been long separated from thatcountry, for all that we love are out of it. "

"But not here?" the little Pilgrim cried again with a little sorrow--apang that she had thought could never touch her again--in her heart. 

"But coming! coming!" said the painter, cheerfully; "and some were herebefore us, and some have arrived since. They are everywhere. "

"But some in trouble--some in trouble!" she cried, with the tears in hereyes. 

"We suppose so, " he said gravely; "for some are in that place which oncewas called among us the place of despair. "

"You mean--" and though the little Pilgrim had been made free of fear, at that word which she would not speak, she trembled, and the light grewdim in her eyes. 

"Well!" said her new friend, "and what then? The Father sees through andthrough it as He does here: they cannot escape Him: so that there isLove near them always. I have a son, " he said, then sighed a little, butsmiled again, "who is there. "

The little Pilgrim at this clasped her hands with a piteous cry. 

"Nay, nay, " he said, "little sister; my friend I was telling you of, theangel, brought me news of him just now. Indeed there was news of himthrough all the city. Did you not hear all the bells ringing? Butperhaps that was before you came. The angels who know me best came oneafter another to tell me, and our Lord himself came to wish me joy. Myson had found the way. "

The little Pilgrim did not understand this, and almost thought that thepainter must be mistaken or dreaming. She looked at him very anxiouslyand said--

"I thought that those unhappy--never came out any more. "

The painter smiled at her in return, and said--

"Had you children in the old time?"

She paused a little before she replied. 

"I had children in love, " she said, "but none that were born mine. "

"It is the same, " he said; "it is the same; and if one of them hadsinned against you, injured you, done wrong in any way, would you havecast him off, or what would you have done?"

"Oh!" said the little Pilgrim again, with a vivid light of memory cominginto her face, which showed she had no need to think of this as a thingthat might have happened, but knew. "I brought him home. I nursed himwell again. I prayed for him night and day. Did you say cast him off?when he had most need of me? then I never could have loved him, " shecried. 

The painter nodded his head, and his hand with the pencil in it, for hehad turned from his picture to look at her. 

"Then you think you love better than our Father?" he said: and turned tohis work, and painted a new fold in the robe, which looked as if a softair had suddenly blown into it, and not the touch of a skilful hand. 

This made the Pilgrim tremble, as though in her ignorance she had donesomething wrong. After that there came a great joy into her heart. "Oh, how happy you have made me!" she cried. "I am glad with all my heart foryou and your son--" Then she paused a little and added, "But you said hewas still there. "

"It is true: for the land of darkness is very confusing, they tell me, for want of the true light, and our dear friends the angels are notpermitted to help: but if one follows them, that shows the way. You maybe in that land yet on your way hither. It was very hard to understandat first, " said the painter; "there are some sketches I could show you. No one has ever made a picture of it, though many have tried; but Icould show you some sketches--if you wish to see. "

To this the little Pilgrim's look was so plain an answer that thepainter laid down his pallet and his brush, and left his work, to showthem to her as he had promised. They went down from the balcony andalong the street until they came to one of the great palaces, wheremany were coming and going. Here they walked through some vast halls, where students were working at easels, doing every kind of beautifulwork: some painting pictures, some preparing drawings, planning housesand palaces. The Pilgrim would have liked to pause at every moment tosee one lovely thing or another, but the painter walked on steadily tillhe came to a room which was full of sketches, some of them like picturesin little, with many figures--some of them only a representation of aflower, or the wing of a bird. "These are all the master's, " he said;"sometimes the sight of them will be enough to put something great intothe mind of another. In this corner are the sketches I told you of. "There' were two of them hanging together upon the wall, and at first itseemed to the little Pilgrim as if they represented the flames and fireof which she had read, and this made her shudder for the moment. Butthen she saw that it was a red light like a stormy sunset, with massesof clouds in the sky, and a low sun very fiery and dazzling, which nodoubt to a hasty glance must have looked, with its dark shadows and highlurid lights, like the fires of the bottomless pit. But when you lookeddown you saw the reality what it was. The country that lay beneath wasfull of tropical foliage, but with many stretches of sand and dryplains, and in the foreground was a town, that looked very prosperousand crowded, though the figures were very minute, the subject being sogreat; but no one to see it would have taken it for anything but a busyand wealthy place, in a thunderous atmosphere, with a storm coming on. In the next there was a section of a street with a great banqueting hallopen to the view, and many people sitting about the table. You could seethat there was a great deal of laughter and conversation going on, somevery noisy groups, but others that sat more quietly in corners andconversed, and some who sang, and every kind of entertainment. Thelittle Pilgrim was very much astonished to see this, and turned to thepainter, who answered her directly, though she had not spoken. "We usedto think differently once. There are some who are there and do not knowit. They think only it is the old life over again, but always worse, andthey are led on in the ways of evil: but they do not feel the punishmentuntil they begin to find out where they are and to struggle, and wishfor other things. "

The little Pilgrim felt her heart beat very wildly while she looked atthis, and she thought upon the rich man in the parable, who, though hewas himself in torment, prayed that his brother might be saved, and shesaid to herself, "Our dear Lord would never leave him there who couldthink of his brother when he was himself in such a strait. " And when shelooked at the painter he smiled upon her, and nodded his head. Then heled her to the other corner of the room where there were otherpictures. One of them was of a party seated round a table and an angellooking on. The angel had the aspect of a traveller, as if he werepassing quickly by, and had but paused a moment to look, when one of themen glancing up suddenly saw him. The picture was dim, but the startledlook upon this man's face, and the sorrow on the angel's, appeared outof the misty background with such truth that the tears came into thelittle Pilgrim's eyes, and she said in her heart, "Oh, that I could goto him and help him!" The other sketches were dimmer and dimmer. Youseemed to see out of the darkness gleaming lights, and companies ofrevellers, out of which here and there was one trying to escape. Andthen the wide plains in the night, and the white vision of the angel inthe distance, and here and there by different paths a fugitive strivingto follow. "Oh, sir, " said the little Pilgrim, "how did you learn to doit? You have never been there. "

"It was the master, not I; and I cannot tell you if he has ever beenthere. When the Father has given you that gift, you can go to manyplaces, without leaving the one where you are. And then he has heardwhat the angels say. "

"And will they all get safe at the last? and even that great spirit, hethat fell from Heaven--"

The painter shook his head, and said, "It is not permitted to you and meto know such great things. Perhaps the wise will tell you if you askthem: but for me I ask the Father in my heart and listen to what Hesays. "

"That is best!" the little Pilgrim said; and she asked the Father in herheart: and there came all over her such a glow of warmth and happinessthat her soul was satisfied. She looked in the painter's face andlaughed for joy. And he put out his hands as if welcoming some one, andhis countenance shone; and he said--

"My son had a great gift. He was a master born, though it was not givento me. He shall paint it all for us so that the heart shall rejoice; andyou will come again and see. "

After that it happened to the little Pilgrim to enter into another greatpalace where there were many people reading, and some sitting at theirdesks and writing, and some consulting together, with many great volumesstretched out open upon the tables. One of these who was seated alonelooked up as she paused, wondering at him, and smiled as every one did, and greeted her with such a friendly tone that the Pilgrim, who alwayshad a great desire to know, came nearer to him and looked at the book, then begged his pardon, and said she did not know that books were neededhere. And then he told her that he was one of the historians of the citywhere all the records of the world were kept, and that it was hisbusiness to work upon the great history, and to show what was themeaning of the Father in everything that had happened, and how eachevent came in its right place. 

"And do you get it out of books?" she asked; for she was not learned, nor wise, and knew but little, though she always loved to know. 

"The books are the records, " he said; "and there are many here that werenever known to us in the old days; for the angels love to look intothese things, and they can tell us much, for they saw it; and in thegreat books they have kept there is much put down that was never in thebooks we wrote; for then we did not know. We found out about the kingsand the state, and tried to understand what great purposes they wereserving; but even these we did not know, for those purposes were toogreat for us, not knowing the end from the beginning; and the hearts ofmen were too great for us. We comprehended the evil sometimes, but neverfathomed the good. And how could we know the lesser things which wereworking out God's way? for some of these even the angels did not know;and it has happened to me that our Lord Himself has come in sometimes totell me of one that none of us had discovered. "

"Oh, " said the little Pilgrim, with tears in her eyes, "I should like tohave been that one!--that was not known even to the angels, but only toHimself!"

The historian smiled. "It was my brother, " he said. 

The Pilgrim looked at him with great wonder. "Your brother, and you didnot know him!"

And then he turned over the pages and showed her where the story was. 

"You know, " he said, "that we who live here are not of your time, buthave lived and lived here till the old life is far away and like adream. There were great tumults and fightings in our time, and it wassettled by the prince of the place that our town was to be abandoned, and all the people left to the mercy of an enemy who had no mercy. Butevery day as he rode out he saw at one door a child, a little fair boy, who sat on the steps, and sang his little song like a bird. This childwas never afraid of anything--when the horses pranced past him, and thetroopers pushed him aside, he looked up into their faces and smiled. Andwhen he had anything, a piece of bread, or an apple, or a plaything, heshared it with his playmates; and his little face, and his pretty voice, and all his pleasant ways, made that corner bright. He was like a flowergrowing there; everybody smiled that saw him. "

"I have seen such a child, " the little Pilgrim said. 

"But we made no account of him, " said the historian. "The Lord of theplace came past him every day, and always saw him singing in the sun byhis father's door. And it was a wonder then, and it has been a wonderever since, why, having resolved upon it, that prince did not abandonthe town, which would have changed all his fortune after. Much had beenmade clear to me since I began to study, but not this: till the LordHimself came to me and told me. The prince looked at the child till heloved him, and he reflected how many children there were like this thatwould be murdered, or starved to death, and he could not give up thelittle singing boy to the sword. So he remained; and the town was saved, and he became a great king. It was so secret that even the angels didnot know it. But without that child the history would not have beencomplete. "

"And is he here?" the little Pilgrim said. 

"Ah, " said the historian, "that is more strange still; for that whichsaved him was also to his harm. He is not here. He is--elsewhere. "

The little Pilgrim's face grew sad; but then she remembered what she hadbeen told. 

"But you know, " she said, "that he is coming?"

"I know that our Father will never forsake him, and that everythingthat is being accomplished in him is well. "

"Is it well to suffer? Is it well to live in that dark stormy country?Oh, that they were all here, and happy like you!"

He shook his head a little and said--

"It was a long time before I got here; and as for suffering that matterslittle. You get experience by it. You are more accomplished and fit forgreater work in the end. It is not for nothing that we are permitted towander: and sometimes one goes to the edge of despair--"

She looked at him with such wondering eyes that he answered her withouta word. 

"Yes, " he said, "I have been there. "

And then it seemed to her that there was something in his eyes which shehad 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 notneedful for such as you. Love teaches you, and you need no more; butwhen we have to be trained for an office like this, to make the way ofthe Lord clear through all the generations, reason is that we should seeeverything, and learn all that man is and can be. These things are toodeep for us; we stumble on, and know not till after. But now to me it isall clear. "

She looked at him again and again while he spoke, and it seemed to herthat she saw in him such great knowledge and tenderness as made herglad; and how he could understand the follies that men had done, andfathom 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 everywherethere is a little good. We could not understand all if we had not seenall 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 olddays was because he tended to death and decay; but when it is towardslife he leads, we fear him no more. The welcome thing of all in the landof darkness is when you see him first and know who he is: for by thisyou are aware that you have found the way. "

The little Pilgrim did nothing but question with her anxious eyes, forthis was such a wonder to her, and she could not understand. But he onlysat musing with a smile over the things he remembered. And at last hesaid--

"If this is so interesting to you, you shall read it all in anotherplace, in the room where we have laid up our own experiences, in orderto serve for the history afterwards. But we are still busy upon the workof the earth. There is always something new to be discovered. And it isessential for the whole world that the chronicle should be full. I am ingreat joy because it was but just now that our Lord told me about thatchild. Everything was imperfect without him, but now it is clear. "

"You mean your brother? And you are happy though you are not sure if heis happy?" the little Pilgrim said. 

"It is not to be happy that we live, " said he; and then, "We are allhappy so soon as we have found the way. "

She would have asked him more, but that he was called to a consultationwith some others of his kind, and had to leave her, waving his hand toher with a tender kindness, which went to her heart. She looked afterhim with great respect, and almost awe; for it seemed to her that a manwho had been in the land of darkness, and made his way out of it, mustbe more wonderful than any other. She looked round for a little uponthe great library, full of all the books that had ever been written, andwhere people were doing their work, examining and reading and makingextracts, every one with looks of so much interest, that she almostenvied them--though it was a generous delight in seeing people so happyin their occupation, and a desire to associate herself somehow in it, rather than any grudging of their satisfaction that was in her mind. Shewent about all the courts of this palace alone, and everywhere saw thesame work going on, and everywhere met the same kind looks. Even whenthe greatest of all looked up from his work and saw her, he would giveher a friendly greeting and a smile; and nobody was too wise to lend anear to the little visitor, or to answer her questions. And this was howit was that she began to talk to another, who was seated at a greattable with many more, and who drew her to him by something that was inhis looks, though she could not have told what it was. It was not thathe was kinder than the rest, for they were all kind. She stood by him alittle, and saw how he worked and would take something from one book andsomething from another, putting them ready for use. And it did not seemany trouble to do this work, but only pleasure, and the very pen in hishand was like a winged thing, as if it loved to write. When he saw herwatching him, he looked up and showed her the beautiful book out ofwhich he was copying, which was all illuminated with lovely pictures. 

"This is one of the volumes of the great history, " he said. "There aresome things in it which are needed for another, and it is a pleasure towork at it. If you will come here you will be able to see the page whileI write. "

Then the little Pilgrim asked him some questions about the pictures, andhe answered her, describing and explaining them; for they were in themiddle of the history, and she did not understand what it was. When shesaid, "I ought not to trouble you, for you are busy, " he smiled sokindly, that she smiled too for pleasure. And he said--

"There is no trouble here. When we are not allowed to work, as sometimeshappens, that makes us not quite so happy, but it is very seldom that ithappens so. "

"Is it for punishment?" she said. 

And then he laughed out with a sound which made all the others look upsmiling; and if they had not all looked so tenderly at her, as at achild 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 laughedat herself too, and blushed a little, knowing that she was not wise: andto put her at her ease again, he turned the leaf and showed her otherpictures, and the story which went with them, from which he was copyingsomething. And he said--

"This is for another book, to show how the grace of the Father wasbeautiful in some homes and families. It is not the great history, butconnected with it: and there are many who love that better than thestory which is more great. "

Then the Pilgrim looked in his face and said--

"What I want most is, to know about your homes here. "

"It is all home here, " he said, and smiled; and then, as he met herwistful looks, he went on to tell her that he and his brothers were notalways there. "We have all our occupations, " he said, "and sometimes Iam sent to inquire into facts that have happened, of which the record isnot clear; for we must omit nothing; and sometimes we are told to restand take in new strength; and sometimes--"

"But oh, forgive me, " cried the little Pilgrim, "you had some who weremore dear to you than all the world in the old time?"

And the others all looked up again at the question, and looked at herwith tender eyes, and said to the man whom she questioned, "Speak!"

He made a little pause before he spoke, and he looked at one here andthere, and called to them--

"Patience, brother, " and "Courage, brother. " And then he said, "Thosewhom we loved best are nearly all with us; but some have not yet come. "

"Oh, " said the little Pilgrim, "but how then do you bear it, to beparted so long--so long?"

Then one of those to whom the first speaker had called out "Patience"rose, and came to her smiling; and he said--

"I think every hour that perhaps she will come, and the joy will be sogreat, that thinking of that makes the waiting short: and nothing hereis long, for it never ends; and it will be so wonderful to hear her tellhow the Father has guided her, that it will be a delight to us all; andshe will be able to explain many things, not only for us, but for all;and we love each other so, that this separation is as nothing incomparison with what is to come. "

It was beautiful to hear this, but it was not what the little Pilgrimexpected, for she thought they would have told her of the homes to whichthey all returned when their work was over, and a life which was likethe life of the old time; but of this they said nothing, only looking ather with smiling eyes, as at the curious questions of a child. And therewere many other things she would have asked, but refrained when shelooked at them, feeling as if she did not yet understand; when one ofthem broke forth suddenly in a louder voice, and said--

"The little sister knows only the little language and the beginning ofdays. She has not learned the mysteries, and what Love is, and what lifeis. "

And another cried, "It is sweet to hear it again;" and they all gatheredround her with tender looks, and began to talk to each other, and tellher, as men will tell of the games of their childhood, of things thathappened, which were half forgotten, in the old time. 

After this the little Pilgrim went out again into the beautiful city, feeling in her heart that everything was a mystery, and that the dayswould never be long enough to learn all that had yet to be learned, butknowing now that this, too, was the little language, and pleased withthe sweet thought of so much that was to come. For one had whispered toher as she went out that the new tongue, and every explanation, as shewas ready for it, would come to her through one of those whom she lovedbest, which is the usage of that country. And when the stranger has noone there that is very dear, then it is an angel who teaches the greaterlanguage, and this is what happens often to the children who are broughtup in that heavenly place. When she reached the street again, she was sopleased with this thought that it went out of her mind to ask her wayto the great library, where she was to read the story of the historian'sjourney through the land of darkness; indeed she forgot that landaltogether, and thought only of what was around her in the great citywhich is beyond everything that eye has seen, or that ear has heard, orthat it has entered into the imagination to conceive. And now it seemedto her that she was much more familiar with the looks of the people, andcould distinguish between those who belonged to the city, and those whowere visitors like herself; and also could tell which they were who hadentered into the mysteries of the kingdom, and which were, like herself, only acquainted with the beginning of days. And it came to her mind--shecould not tell how--that it was best not to ask questions, but to waituntil the beloved one should come, who would teach her the first words. For in the meantime she did not feel at all impatient or disturbed byher want of knowledge, but laughed a little at herself to suppose thatshe could find out everything, and went on looking round her, and sayinga word to every one she met, and enjoying the holiday looks of all thestrangers, and the sense she had in her heart of holiday too. She waswalking on in this pleasant way, when she heard a sound that was likesilver trumpets, and saw the crowd turn towards an open space in whichall the beautiful buildings were shaded with fine trees, and flowerswere springing at the very edge of the pavements. The strangers allhastened along to hear what it was, and she with them, and some also ofthe people of the place. And as the little Pilgrim found herself walkingby a woman who was of these last, she asked her what it was. 

And the woman told her it was a poet who had come to say to them whathad been revealed to him, and that the two with the silver trumpets wereangels of the musicians' order, whose office it was to proclaimeverything that was new, that the people should know. And many of thosewho were at work in the palaces came out and joined the crowd, and thepainter who had showed the little Pilgrim his picture, and many whosefaces she began to be acquainted with. The poet stood up upon abeautiful pedestal all sculptured in stone, and with wreaths of livingflowers hung upon it--and when the crowd had gathered in front of him, he began his poem. He told them that it was not about this land, oranything that happened in it, which they knew as he did, but that it wasa story of the old time, when men were walking in darkness, and when noone knew the true meaning even of what he himself did, but had to go onas if blindly, stumbling and groping with their hands. And, "Oh, brethren, " he said, "though all is more beautiful and joyful here wherewe know, yet to remember the days when we knew not, and the ways whenall was uncertain, and the end could not be distinguished from thebeginning, is sweet and dear; and that which was done in the dimtwilight should be celebrated in the day; and our Father Himself lovesto hear of those who, having not seen, loved, and who learned withoutany teacher, and followed the light, though they did not understand. "

And then he told them the story of one who had lived in the old time;and in that air, which seemed to be made of sunshine, and amid all thosestately palaces, he described to them the little earth which they hadleft behind--the skies that were covered with clouds, and the ways thatwere so rough and stony, and the cruelty of the oppressor, and the criesof those that were oppressed. And he showed the sickness and thetroubles, and the sorrow and danger; and how death stalked about, andtore heart from heart; and how sometimes the strongest would fail, andthe truest fall under the power of a lie, and the tenderest forget to bekind; and how evil things lurked in every corner to beguile the dwellersthere; and how the days were short and the nights dark, and life solittle that by the time a man had learned something it was his hour todie. "What can a soul do that is born there?" he cried; "for war isthere and fighting, and perplexity and darkness; and no man knows ifthat which he does will be for good or evil, or can tell which is thebest way, or know the end from the beginning; and those he loves themost are a mystery to him, and their thoughts beyond his reach. Andclouds are between him and the Father, and he is deceived with falsegods and false teachers, who make him to love a lie. " The people whowere listening held their breath, and a shadow like a cloud fell onthem, and they remembered and knew that it was true. But the next momenttheir hearts rebelled, and one and another would have spoken, and thelittle Pilgrim herself had almost cried out and made her plea for thedear earth which she loved: when he suddenly threw forth his voice againlike a great song. "Oh, dear mother earth, " he cried; "oh, little worldand great, forgive thy son! for lovely thou art and dear, and the sun ofGod shines upon thee and the sweet dews fall; and there were we born, and loved, and died, and are come hence to bless the Father and the Son. For in no other world, though they are so vast, is it given to any toknow the Lord in the darkness, and follow Him groping, and make waythrough sin and death, and overcome the evil, and conquer in His Name. "At which there was a great sound of weeping and of triumph, and thelittle Pilgrim could not contain herself, but cried out too in joy as iffor a deliverance. And then the poet told his tale. And as he told themof the man who was poor and sorrowful and alone, and how he loved andwas not loved again, and trusted and was betrayed, and was tempted anddrawn into the darkness, so that it seemed as if he must perish; but, when hope was almost gone, turned again from the edge of despair, andconfronted all his enemies, and fought and conquered, the peoplefollowed every word with great outcries of love and pity and wonder. Foreach one as he listened remembered his own career and that of hisbrethren in the old life, and admired to think that all the evil waspast, and wondered how, out of such tribulation and through so manydangers, all were safe and blessed here. And there were others that werenot of them, who listened, some seated at the windows of the palaces andsome standing in the great square--people who were not like the others, whose bearing was more majestic, and who looked upon the crowd allsmiling and weeping with wonder and interest, but had no knowledge ofthe cause, and listened as it were to a tale that is told. The poet andhis audience were as one, and at every period of the story there was adeep breathing and pause, and every one looked at his neighbour, andsome grasped each other's hands as they remembered all that was in thepast; but the strangers listened and gazed and observed all, as thosewho listen and are instructed in something beyond their knowledge. Thelittle Pilgrim stood all this time not knowing where she was, so intentwas she upon the tale, and as she listened it seemed to her that all herown life was rolling out before her, and she remembered the things thathad been, and perceived how all had been shaped and guided, and trembleda little for the brother who was in danger, yet knew that all would bewell. 

The woman who had been at her side listened too with all her heart, saying to herself as she stood in the crowd, "He has left nothing out!The little days they were so short, and the skies would change all in amoment and one's heart with them. How he brings it all back!" And sheput up her hand to dry away a tear from her eyes, though her face allthe time was shining with the recollection. The little Pilgrim was gladto be by the side of a woman after talking with so many men, and she putout her hand and touched the cloak that this lady wore, and which waswhite and of the most beautiful texture, with gold threads woven in it, or something that looked like gold. 

"Do you like, " she said, "to think of the old time?"

The woman turned and looked down upon her, for she was tall and stately, and immediately took the hand of the little Pilgrim into hers, and heldit without answering, till the poet had ended and come down from theplace where he had been standing. He came straight through the crowd towhere this lady stood, and said something to her. "You did well to tellme, " looking at her with love in his eyes--not the tender sweetness ofall those kind looks around, but the love that is for one. The littlePilgrim looked at them with her heart beating, and was very glad forthem, and happy in herself, for she had not seen this love before sinceshe came into the city, and it had troubled her to think that perhaps itdid not exist any more. "I am glad, " the lady said, and gave him herother hand; "but here is a little sister who asks me something, and Imust answer her. I think she has but newly come. "

"She has a face full of the morning, " the poet said. It did the littlePilgrim good to feel the touch of the warm, soft hand, and she was notafraid, but lifted her eyes and spoke to the lady, and to the poet. "Itis beautiful what you said to us. Sometimes in the old time we used tolook up to the beautiful skies and wonder what there was above theclouds, but we never thought that up here in this great city you wouldbe thinking of what we were doing, and making beautiful poems all aboutus. We thought that you would sing wonderful psalms, and talk of thingshigh, high above us. "

"The little sister does not know what the meaning of the earth is, " thepoet said. "It is but a little speck, but it is the centre of all. Lether walk with us, and we will go home, and you will tell her, Ama, forI love to hear you talk. "

"Will you come with us?" the lady said. 

And the little Pilgrim's heart leaped up in her, to think she was nowgoing to see a home in this wonderful city; and they went along hand inhand, and though they were three together, and many were coming andgoing, there was no difficulty, for every one made way for them. Andthere was a little murmur of pleasure as the poet passed, and those whohad heard his poem made obeisance to him, and thanked him, and thankedthe Father for him, that he was able to show them so many beautifulthings. And they walked along the street which was shining with colour, and saw, as they passed, how the master painter had come to his work, and was standing upon the balcony where the little Pilgrim had been, andbringing out of the wall, under his hand, faces which were full of life, and which seemed to spring forth as if they had been hidden there. "Letus wait a little and see him working, " the poet said: and all roundabout the people stopped on their way, and there was a soft cry ofpleasure and praise all through the beautiful street. And the painterwith whom the little Pilgrim had talked before came, and stood behindher as if he had been an old friend, and called out to her at every newtouch to mark how this and that was done. She did not understand as hedid, but she saw how beautiful it was, and she was glad to have seen thegreat painter, as she had been glad to hear the great poet. It seemed tothe little Pilgrim as if everything happened well for her, and that noone had ever been so blessed before. And to make it all more sweet, thisnew friend, this great and sweet lady, always held her hand, and pressedit softly when something more lovely appeared; and even the picturedfaces on the wall seemed to beam upon her, as they came out one by onelike the stars in the sky. Then the three went on again, and passed bymany more beautiful palaces, and great streets leading away into thelight, till you could see no farther; and they met with bands ofsingers, who sang so sweetly that the heart seemed to leap out of thePilgrim's breast to meet with them, for above all things this was whatshe had loved most. And out of one of the palaces there came suchglorious music, that everything she had seen and heard before seemed asnothing in comparison. And amid all these delights they went on and on, but without wearying, till they came out of the streets into lovelywalks and alleys, and made their way to the banks of a great river, which seemed to sing too, a soft melody of its own. 

And here there were some fair houses surrounded by gardens and flowersthat grew everywhere, and the doors were all open, and within everythingwas lovely and still, and ready for rest if you were weary. The littlePilgrim was not weary, but the lady placed her upon a couch in theporch, where the pillars and the roof were all formed of interlacingplants and flowers; and there they sat with her and talked, andexplained to her many things. They told her that the earth, though sosmall, was the place in all the world to which the thoughts of thoseabove were turned. "And not only of us who have lived there, but of allour brothers in the other worlds; for we are the race which the Fatherhas chosen to be the example. In every age there is one that is thescene of the struggle and the victory, and it is for this reason thatthe chronicles are made, and that we are all placed here to gather themeaning of what has been done among men. And I am one of those, " thelady said, "that go back to the dear earth and gather up the tale ofwhat our little brethren are doing. I have not to succour, like someothers, but only to see and bring the news; and he makes them into greatpoems as you have heard; and sometimes the master painter will take oneand make of it a picture; and there is nothing that is so delightful tous as when we can bring back the histories of beautiful things. "

"But, oh, " said the little Pilgrim, "what can there be on earth sobeautiful as the meanest thing that is here?"

Then they both smiled upon her and said, "It is more beautiful than themost beautiful thing here to see how, under the low skies and in theshort days, a soul will turn to our Father. And sometimes, " said Ama, "when I am watching, one will wander and stray, and be led into the darktill my heart is sick; then come back and make me glad. Sometimes I cryout within myself to the Father, and say, 'Oh, my Father, it is enough!'and it will seem to me that it is not possible to stand by and see hisdestruction. And then while you are gazing, while you are crying, hewill recover and return, and go on again. And to the angels it is morewonderful than to us, for they have never lived there. And all the otherworlds are eager to hear what we can tell them. For no one knows exceptthe Father how the battle will turn, or when it will all beaccomplished; and there are some who tremble for our little brethren. For to look down and see how little light there is, and how no one knowswhat may happen to him next, makes them afraid who never were there. "

The little Pilgrim listened with an intent face, clasping her hands, andsaid--"But it never could be that our Father should be overcome by evil. Is not that known in all the worlds?"

Then the lady turned and kissed her: and the poet broke forth insinging, and said, "Faith is more heavenly than heaven; it is morebeautiful than the angels. It is the only voice that can answer to ourFather. We praise Him, we glorify Him, we love His name, but there isbut one response to Him through all the worlds, and that is the cry ofthe little brothers, who see nothing and know nothing, but believe thatHe will never fail. "

At this the little Pilgrim wept, for her heart was touched: but shesaid--"We are not so ignorant: for we have our Lord who is our Brother, and He teaches us all that we require to know. "

Upon this the poet rose and lifted up his hands and spoke once more; butit was as if he spoke to others, to some one at a distance; it was inthe other language which the little Pilgrim still did not understand, but she could make out that it sounded like a great proclamation that Hewas wise as He was good, and called upon all to see that the Lord hadchosen the only way. And the sound of the poet's voice was like a greattrumpet sounding bold and sweet, as if to tell this to those who werefar away. 

"For you must know, " said the Lady Ama, who all the time held thePilgrim's hand, "that it is permitted to all to judge according to thewisdom that has been given them. And there are some who think that ourdear Lord might have found another way, and that wait, sometimes withtrembling, lest He should fail; but not among us who have lived onearth, for we know. And it is our work to show to all the worlds thatHis way never fails, and how wonderful it is, and beautiful above allthat heart has conceived. And thus we justify the ways of God, who isour Father. But in the other worlds there are many who will continue tofear until the history of the earth is all ended and the chronicles aremade complete. "

"And will that be long?" the little Pilgrim cried, feeling in her heartthat she would like to go to all the worlds and tell them of our Lord, and of His love, and how the thought of Him makes you strong; and ittroubled her a little to hear her friends speak of the low skies and theshort days, and the dimness of that dear country which she had leftbehind, in which there were so many still whom she loved. 

Upon this Ama shook her head, and said that of that day no one knew, noteven our Lord, but only the Father: and then she smiled and answeredthe little Pilgrim's thought. "When we go back, " she said, "it is not aswhen we lived there; for now we see all the dangers of it and themysteries which we did not see before. It was by the Father's dear lovethat we did not see what was around us and about us while we livedthere, for then our hearts would have fainted: and that makes us wondernow that any one endures to the end. "

"You are a great deal wiser than I am, " said the little Pilgrim; "butthough our hearts had fainted how could we have been overcome? for Hewas on our side. "

At this neither of them made any reply at first, but looked at her; andat length the poet said that she had brought many thoughts back to hismind, and how he had himself been almost worsted when one like her cameto him and gave strength to his soul. "For that He was on our side wasthe only thing she knew, " he said, "and all that could be learned ordiscovered was not worthy of naming beside it. And this I must tellwhen next I speak to the people, and how our little sister brought it tomy mind. "

And then they paused from this discourse, and the little Pilgrim lookedround upon the beautiful houses and the fair gardens, and she said--

"You live here? and do you come home at night?--but I do not mean atnight, I mean when your work is done. And are they poets like you thatdwell all about in these pleasant places, and the--"

She would have said the children, but stopped, not knowing if perhaps itmight be unkind to speak of the children when she saw none there. 

Upon this the lady smiled once more, and said--

"The door stands open always, so that no one is shut out, and thechildren come and go when they will. They are children no longer, andthey have their appointed work like him and me. "

"And you are always among those you love?" the Pilgrim said; upon whichthey smiled again and said, "We all love each other;" and the lady heldher hand in both of hers, and caressed it, and softly laughed, and said, "You know only the little language. When you have been taught the otheryou will learn many beautiful things. "

She rested for some time after this, and talked much with her newfriends: and then there came into the heart of the little Pilgrim alonging to go to the place which was appointed for her, and which washer home, and to do the work which had been given her to do. And whenthe lady saw this she rose and said that she would accompany her alittle upon her way. But the poet bade her farewell and remained underthe porch, with the green branches shading him, and the flowers twininground the pillars, and the open door of his beautiful house behind him. When she looked back upon him he waved his hand to her as if biddingher God-speed, and the lady by her side looked back too and waved herhand, and the little Pilgrim felt tears of happiness come to her eyes;for she had been wondering with a little disappointment to see that thepeople in the city, except those who were strangers, were chiefly alone, and not like those in the old world where the husband and wife gotogether. It consoled her to see again two who were one. The ladypressed her hand in answer to her thought, and bade her pause a momentand look back into the city as they passed the end of the great streetout of which they came. And then the Pilgrim was more and more consoled, for she saw many who had before been alone now walking together hand inhand. 

"It is not as it was, " Ama said. "For all of us have work to do which isneeded for the worlds, and it is no longer needful that one should sitat home while the other goes forth; for our work is not for our life asof old, or for ourselves, but for the Father who has given us so greata trust. And, little sister, you must know that though we are not sogreat as the angels, nor as many that come to visit us from the otherworlds, yet we are nearer to Him. For we are in His secret, and it isours to make it clear. "

The little Pilgrim's heart was very full to hear this; but she said--

"I was never clever, nor knew much. It is better for me to go away to mylittle border-land, and help the strangers who do not know the way. "

"Whatever is your work is the best, " the lady said; "but though you areso little you are in the Father's secret too; for it is nature to you toknow what the others cannot be sure of, that we must have the victory atthe last. So that we have this between us, the Father and we. And thoughall are His children, we are of the kindred of God, because of our Lordwho is our Brother;" and then the Lady Ama kissed her, and bade her whenshe returned to the great city, either for rest or for love, or becausethe Father sent for her, that she should come to the house by the river. "For we are friends for ever, " she said, and so threw her white veilover her head, and was gone upon her mission, whither the little Pilgrimdid not know. 

And now she found herself at a distance from the great city which shonein the light with its beautiful towers, and roofs, and all itsmonuments, softly fringed with trees, and set in a heavenly firmament. And the Pilgrim thought of those words that described this lovely placeas a bride adorned for her husband, and did not wonder at him who hadsaid that her streets were of gold and her gates of pearl, because goldand pearls and precious jewels were as nothing to the glory and thebeauty of her. The little Pilgrim was glad to have seen these wonderfulthings, and her mind was like a cup running over with almost more thanit could contain. It seemed to her that there never could be a timewhen she should want for wonder and interest and delight so long as shehad this to think of. Yet she was not sorry to turn her back upon thebeautiful city, but went on her way singing in unutterable content, andthinking over what the lady had said, that we were in God's secret, morethan all the great worlds above and even the angels, because of knowinghow it is that in darkness and doubt, and without any open vision, a manmay still keep the right way. The path lay along the bank of the riverwhich flowed beside her and made the air full of music, and a soft airblew across the running stream and breathed in her face and refreshedher, and the birds sang in all the trees. And as she passed through thevillages the people came out to meet her, and asked of her if she hadcome from the city, and what she had seen there. And everywhere shefound friends, and kind voices that gave her greeting. But some wouldask her why she still spoke the little language, though it was sweet totheir ears; and others when they heard it hastened to call from thehouses and the fields some among them who knew the other tongue but alittle, and who came and crowded round the little Pilgrim and asked hermany questions both about the things she had been seeing and about theold time. And she perceived that the village folk were a simple folk, not learned and wise like those she had left. And that though they livedwithin sight of the great city, and showed every stranger the beautifulview of it, and the glory of its towers, yet few among them hadtravelled there; for they were so content with their fields and theirriver, and the shade of their trees and the birds singing, and theirsimple life, that they wanted no change; though it pleased them toreceive the little Pilgrim, and they brought her in to their villagesrejoicing, and called every one to see her. And they told her that theyhad all been poor and laboured hard in the old time, and had neverrested; so that now it was the Father's good pleasure that they shouldenjoy great peace and consolation among the fresh-breathing fields andon the riverside, so that there were many who even now had littleoccupation except to think of the Father's goodness and to rest. Andthey told her how the Lord Himself would come among them, and sit downunder a tree, and tell them one of His parables, and make them all morehappy than words could say; and how sometimes He would send one out ofthe beautiful city, with a poem or tale to say to them, and bands oflovely music, more lovely than anything beside, except the sound of theLord's own voice. "And what is more wonderful, the angels themselvescome often and listen to us, " they said, "when we begin to talk andremind each other of the old time, and how we suffered heat and cold, and were bowed down with labour, and bending over the soil; and howsometimes the harvest would fail us, and sometimes we had not bread, andsometimes would hush the children to sleep because there was nothing togive them; and how we grew old and weary, and still worked on and on. ""We are those who were old, " a number of them called out to her, with amurmuring sound of laughter, one looking over another's shoulder. Andone woman said, "The angels say to us, 'Did you never think the Fatherhad forsaken you and the Lord forgotten you?'" And all the rest answeredas in a chorus, "There were moments that we thought this; but all thetime we knew that it could not be. " "And the angels wonder at us, " saidanother. All this they said, crowding one before another, every oneanxious to say something, and sometimes speaking together, but always inaccord. And then there was a sound of laughter and pleasure, both at thestrange thought that the Lord could have forgotten them, and at thewonder of the angels over their simple tales. And immediately they beganto remind each other, and say, "Do you remember?" and they told thelittle Pilgrim a hundred tales of the hardships and troubles they hadknown, all smiling and radiant with pleasure; and at every new accountthe others would applaud and rejoice, feeling the happiness all the morefor the evils that were past. And some of them led her into theirgardens to show her their flowers, and to tell her how they had begun tostudy and learn how colours were changed and form perfected, and thesecrets of the growth and of the germ of which they had been ignorant. And others arranged themselves in choirs, and sang to her delightfulsongs of the fields, and accompanied her out upon her way, singing andanswering to each other. The difference between the simple folk and thegreatness of the others made the little Pilgrim wonder and admire, andshe loved them in her simplicity, and turned back many a time to waveher hand to them, and to listen to the lovely simple singing as it wentfarther and farther away. It had an evening tone of rest and quietness, and of protection and peace. "He leadeth me by the green pastures andbeside the quiet waters, " she said to herself: and her heart swelledwith pleasure to think that it was those who had been so old, and soweary and poor, who had this rest to console them for all their sorrows. 

And as she went along, not only did she pass through many othervillages, but met many on the way who were travelling towards the greatcity, and would greet her sweetly as they passed, and sometimes stop tosay a pleasant word, so that the little Pilgrim was never lonelywherever she went. But most of them began to speak to her in the otherlanguage, which was as beautiful and sweet as music, but which she couldnot understand: and they were surprised to find her ignorant of it, notknowing that she was but a new-comer into these lands. And there weremany things that could not be told but in that language, for the earthlytongue had no words to express them. The little Pilgrim was a littlesad not to understand what was said to her, but cheered herself with thethought that it should be taught to her by one whom she loved best. Theway by the riverside was very cheerful and bright, with many peoplecoming and going, and many villages, some of them with a bridge acrossthe stream, some withdrawn among the fields, but all of them bright andfull of life, and with sounds of music, and voices, and footsteps: andthe little Pilgrim felt no weariness, but moved along as lightly as achild, taking great pleasure in everything she saw, and answering allthe friendly greetings with all her heart, yet glad to think that shewas approaching ever nearer to the country where it was ordained thatshe should dwell for a time and succour the strangers, and receive thosewho were newly arrived. And she consoled herself with the thought thatthere was no need of any language but that which she knew. As this wentthrough her mind making her glad she suddenly became aware of one whowas walking by her side, a lady who was covered with a veil white andshining like that which Ama had worn in the beautiful city. It hungabout this stranger's head so that it was not easy to see her face, andthe sound of her voice was very sweet in the Pilgrim's ear, yet startledher like the sound of something which she knew well, but could notremember. And as there were few who were going that way, she was glad, and said, "Let us walk together, if that pleases you. " And the strangersaid, "It is for that I have come, " which was a reply which made thelittle Pilgrim wonder more and more, though she was very glad and joyfulto have this companion upon her way. And then the lady began to ask hermany questions, not about the city, or the great things she had seen, but about herself, and what the dear Lord had given her to do. 

"I am little and weak, and I cannot do much, " the little Pilgrim said. "It is nothing but pleasure. It is to welcome those that are coming, and tell them. Sometimes they are astonished and do not know. I was somyself. I came in my sleep, and understood nothing. But now that I know, it is sweet to tell them that they need not fear. "

"I was glad, " the lady said, "that you came in your sleep: for sometimesthe way is dark and hard, and you are little and tender. When yourbrother comes you will be the first to see him, and show him the way. "

"My brother! is he coming?" the little Pilgrim cried. And then she saidwith a wistful look, "But we are all brethren, and you mean only one ofthose who are the children of our Father. You must forgive me that I donot know the higher speech, but only what is natural, for I have not yetbeen long here. "

"He whom I mean is called--" and here the lady said a name which was thetrue name of a brother born, whom the Pilgrim loved above all others. She gave a cry, and then she said trembling, "I know your voice, but Icannot see your face. And what you say makes me think of many things. Noone else has covered her face when she has spoken to me. I know you, andyet I cannot tell who you are. "

The woman stood for a little without saying a word, and then verysoftly, in a voice which only the heart heard, she called the littlePilgrim by her name. 

"MOTHER, " cried the Pilgrim, with such a cry of joy that it echoed allabout in the sweet air: and flung herself upon the veiled lady, and drewthe veil from her face, and saw that it was she. And with this sightthere came a revelation which flooded her soul with happiness. For theface which had been old and feeble was old no longer, but fair in thematurity of day; and the figure that had been bent and weary was full ofa tender majesty, and the arms that clasped her about were warm and softwith love and life. And all that had changed their relations in theother days and made the mother in her weakness seem as a child, andtransferred all protection and strength to the daughter, was gone forever: and the little Pilgrim beheld in a rapture one who was her sisterand equal, yet ever above her--more near to her than any, though allwere so near--one of whom she herself was a part, yet another, and whoknew all her thoughts and the way of them before they arose in her. Andto see her face as in the days of her prime, and her eyes so clear andwise, and to feel once more that which is different from the love ofall, that which is still most sweet where all is sweet, the love ofone--was like a crown to her in her happiness. The little Pilgrim couldnot think for joy, nor say a word, but held this dear mother's hands andlooked in her face, and her heart soared away to the Father in thanksand joy. They sat down by the roadside under the shade of the trees, while the river ran softly by, and everything was hushed out ofsympathy and kindness, and questioned each other of all that had beenand was to be. And the little Pilgrim told all the little news of home, and of the brothers and sisters and the children that had been born, andof those whose faces were turned towards this better country; and themother smiled and listened and would have heard all over and over, although many things she already knew. "But why should I tell you? fordid not you watch over us and see all we did, and were not you near usalways?" the little Pilgrim said. 

"How could that be?" said the mother; "for we are not like our Lord, tobe everywhere. We come and go where we are sent. But sometimes we knewand sometimes saw, and always loved. And whenever our hearts were sickfor news it was but to go to Him, and He told us everything. And now, mylittle one, you are as we are, and have seen the Lord. And this has beengiven us, to teach our child once more, and show you the heavenlylanguage, that you may understand all, both the little and the great. "

Then the Pilgrim lifted her head from her mother's bosom, and looked inher face with eyes full of longing. "You said 'we, '" she said. 

The mother did nothing but smile; then lifted her eyes and looked alongthe beautiful path of the river to where some one was coming to jointhem; and the little Pilgrim cried out again, in wonder and joy; andpresently found herself seated between them, her father and her mother, the two who had loved her most in the other days. They looked morebeautiful than the angels and all the great persons whom she had seen;for still they were hers and she was theirs, more than all the angelsand all the blessed could be. And thus she learned that though the newmay take the place of the old, and many things may blossom out of itlike flowers, yet that the old is never done away. And then they sattogether, telling of everything that had befallen, and all the littletender things that were of no import, and all the great changes andnoble ways, and the wonders of heaven above and the earth beneath, forall were open to them, both great and small; and when they had satisfiedtheir souls with these, her father and mother began to teach her theother language, smiling often at her faltering tongue, and telling herthe same thing over and over till she learned it; and her father calledher his little foolish one, as he had done in the old days; and at last, when they had kissed her and blessed her, and told her how to come hometo them when she was weary, they gave her, as the Father had permittedthem, with joy and blessing, her new name. 

The little Pilgrim was tired with happiness and all the wonder andpleasure, and as she sat there in the silence leaning upon those whowere so dear to her, the soft air grew sweeter and sweeter about her, and the light faded softly into a dimness of tender indulgence andprivilege for her, because she was still little and weak. And whetherthat heavenly suspense of all her faculties was sleep or not she knewnot, but it was such as in all her life she had never known. When shecame back to herself, it was by the sound of many voices calling her, and many people hastening past and beckoning to her to join them. 

"Come, come, " they said, "little sister: there has been great trouble inthe other life, and many have arrived suddenly and are afraid. Come, come, and help them--come and help them!"

And she sprang up from her soft seat, and found that she was no longerby the riverside, or within sight of the great city or in the arms ofthose she loved, but stood on one of the flowery paths of her ownborder-land, and saw her fellows hastening towards the gates where thereseemed a great crowd. And she was no longer weary, but full of life andstrength, and it seemed to her that she could take them up in her arms, those trembling strangers, and carry them straight to the Father, sostrong was she, and light, and full of force. And above all the gladnessshe had felt, and all her pleasure in what she had seen, and more happyeven than the meeting with those she loved most, was her happiness now, as she went along as light as the breeze to receive the strangers. Shewas so eager that she began to sing a song of welcome as she hastenedon. "Oh, welcome, welcome!" she cried; and as she sang she knew it wasone of the heavenly melodies which she had heard in the great city: andshe hastened on, her feet flying over the flowery ways, thinking how thegreat worlds were all watching, and the angels looking on, and the wholeuniverse waiting till it should be proved to them that the dear Lord, the Brother of us all, had chosen the perfect way, and that over all theevil and the sorrow He was the Conqueror alone. 

And the little Pilgrim's voice, though it was so small, echoed awaythrough the great firmament to where the other worlds were watching tosee what should come, and cheered the anxious faces of some great lordsand princes far more great than she, who were of a nobler race than man;for it was said among the stars that when such a little sound couldreach so far, it was a token that the Lord had chosen aright, and thatHis method must be the best. And it breathed over the earth like someone saying, Courage! to those whose hearts were failing; and it droppeddown, down, into the great confusions and traffic of the Land ofDarkness, and startled many, like the cry of a child calling andcalling, and never ceasing, "Come! and come! and come!"

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