第9章

Bonaparteknewthatshecomprehendednotasyllable；butheunderstoodthatitistheeye，thetone，theaction，andnotatalltherationalword，thattouchesthelove—chords。Hesawshechangedcolour。

"Allnight，"saidBonaparte，"Ilieawake；Iseenaughtbutthyangeliccountenance。Iopenmyarmstoreceivethee——whereartthou，where？Thouartnotthere！"saidBonaparte，suitingtheactiontothewords，andspreadingouthisarmsanddrawingthemtohisbreast。

"Oh，please，Idon’tunderstand，"saidTrana，"Iwanttogoaway。"

"Yes，yes，"saidBonaparte，leaningbackinhischair，tohergreatrelief，andpressinghishandsonhisheart，"sincefirstthyamethystinecountenancewasimpressedhere——whathaveInotsuffered，whathaveInotfelt？Oh，thepangsunspoken，burningasanardentcoalinafieryanduncontaminatedbosom！"saidBonaparte，bendingforwardagain。

"DearLord！"saidTranatoherself，"howfoolishIhavebeen！Theoldmanhasapaininhisstomach，andnow，asmyauntisout，hehascometometohelphim。"

ShesmiledkindlyatBonaparte，andpushingpasthim，wenttothebedroom，quicklyreturningwithabottleofreddropsinherhand。

"Theyareverygoodforbenauwdheid；mymotheralwaysdrinksthem，"shesaid，holdingthebottleout。

Thefaceinthetrap—doorwasafieryred。Likeatiger—catreadytospring。TantSanniecrouched，withtheshoulderofmuttoninherhand。

ExactlybeneathherstoodBonaparte。Sheroseandclaspedwithbotharmsthebarrelofsaltmeat。

"What，roseofthedesert，nightingaleofthecolony，thatwiththineamorouslaywhilestthelonesomenight！"criedBonaparte，seizingthehandthatheldthevonlicsense。Nay，strugglenot！Flyasastrickenfawnintothearmsthatwouldembracethee，thou——"

Hereastreamofcoldpickle—water，heavywithribsandshoulders，descendingonhisheadabruptlyterminatedhisspeech。Half—blinded，Bonapartelookedupthroughthedropsthathungfromhiseyelids，andsawtheredfacethatlookeddownathim。Withonewildcryhefled。Ashepassedoutatthefrontdoorashoulderofmutton，well—directed，strucktheblackcoatinthesmalloftheback。

"Bringtheladder！bringtheladder！Iwillgoafterhim！"criedtheBoer—

woman，asBonaparteBlenkinswildlyfledintothefields……

LateintheeveningofthesamedayWaldokneltonthefloorofhiscabin。

Hebathedthefootofhisdogwhichhadbeenpiercedbyathorn。Thebruisesonhisownbackhadhadfivedaystohealin，and，exceptalittlestiffnessinhismovements，therewasnothingremarkableabouttheboy。

Thetroublesoftheyoungaresoonover；theyleavenoexternalmark。Ifyouwoundthetreeinitsyouththebarkwillquicklycoverthegash；butwhenthetreeisveryold，peelingthebarkoff，andlookingcarefully，youwillseethescartherestill。Allthatisburiedisnotdead。

Waldopouredthewarmmilkoverthelittleswollenfoot；Dosslayveryquiet，withtearsinhiseyes。Thentherewasatapatthedoor。InaninstantDosslookedwideawake，andwinkedthetearsoutfrombetweenhislittlelids。

"Comein，"saidWaldo，intentonhiswork；andslowlyandcautiouslythedooropened。

"Goodevening，Waldo，myboy，"saidBonaparteBlenkinsinamildvoice，notventuringmorethanhisnosewithinthedoor。"Howareyouthisevening？"

Dossgrowledandshowedhislittleteeth，andtriedtorise，buthispawhurthimsohewhined。

"I’mverytired，Waldo，myboy，"saidBonaparteplaintively。

Dossshowedhislittlewhiteteethagain。Hismasterwentonwithhisworkwithoutlookinground。Therearesomepeopleatwhosehandsitisbestnottolook。Atlasthesaid：

"Comein。"

Bonapartesteppedcautiouslyalittlewayintotheroom，andleftthedooropenbehindhim。Helookedattheboy’ssupperonthetable。

"Waldo，I’vehadnothingtoeatallday——I’mveryhungry，"hesaid。

"Eat！"saidWaldoafteramoment，bendingloweroverhisdog。

"Youwon’tgoandtellherthatIamhere，willyou，Waldo？"saidBonapartemostuneasily。"You’veheardhowsheusedme，Waldo？I’vebeenbadlytreated；you’llknowyourselfwhatitissomedaywhenyoucan’tcarryonalittleconversationwithaladywithouthavingsaltmeatandpickle—waterthrownatyou。Waldo，lookatme；doIlookasagentlemanshould？"

Buttheboyneitherlookedupnoranswered，andBonapartegrewmoreuneasy。

"Youwouldn’tgoandtellherthatIamhere，wouldyou？"saidBonaparte，whiningly。"There’snoknowingwhatshewoulddotome。I’vesuchtrustinyou，Waldo；I’vealwaysthoughtyousuchapromisinglad，thoughyoumayn’thaveknownit，Waldo。"

"Eat，"saidtheboy，"Ishallsaynothing。"

Bonaparte，whoknewthetruthwhenanotherspokeit，closedthedoor，carefullyputtingonthebutton。Thenhelookedtoseethatthecurtainofthewindowwascloselypulleddown，andseatedhimselfatthetable。Hewassoonmunchingthecoldmeatandbread。Waldokneltonthefloor，bathingthefootwithhandswhichthedoglickedlovingly。Onceonlyheglancedatthetable，andturnedawayquickly。

"Ah，yes！Idon’twonderthatyoucan’tlookatme，Waldo，"saidBonaparte；"myconditionwouldtouchanyheart。Yousee，thewaterwasfatty，andthathasmadeallthesandsticktome；andmyhair，"saidBonaparte，tenderlytouchingthelittlefringeatthebackofhishead，"isallcakedoverlikealittleplank；youwouldn’tthinkitwashairatall，"

saidBonaparte，plaintively。"Ihadtocreepallalongthestonewallsforfearshe’dseeme，andwithnothingonmyheadbutaredhandkerchief，tiedundermychin，Waldo；andtohideinaslootthewholeday，withnotamouthfuloffood，Waldo。Andshegavemesuchablow，justhere，"saidBonaparte。

Hehadclearedtheplateofthelastmorsel，whenWaldoroseandwalkedtothedoor。

"Oh，Waldo，mydearboy，youarenotgoingtocallher，"saidBonaparte，risinganxiously。

"Iamgoingtosleepinthewagon，"saidtheboy，openingthedoor。

"Oh，wecanbothsleepinthisbed；there’splentyofroom。Dostay，myboy，please。"

ButWaldosteppedout。

"Itwassuchalittlewhip，Waldo，"saidBonaparte，followinghimdeprecatingly。"Ididn’tthinkitwouldhurtyousomuch。Itwassuchalittlewhip。Iamsureyoudidn’ttakethepeaches。Youaren’tgoingtocallher，Waldo，areyou？"

Buttheboywalkedoff。

Bonapartewaitedtillhisfigurehadpassedroundthefrontofthewagon—

house，andthenslippedout。Hehidhimselfroundthecorner，butkeptpeepingouttoseewhowascoming。HefeltsuretheboywasgonetocallTantSannie。Histeethchatteredwithinwardcoldashelookedroundintothedarknessandthoughtofthesnakesthatmightbitehim，andthedreadfulthingsthatmightattackhim，andthedeadthatmightariseoutoftheirgravesifhesleptoutinthefieldallnight。Butmorethananhourpassedandnofootstepapproached。

ThenBonapartemadehiswaybacktothecabin。Hebuttonedthedoorandputthetableagainstitand，givingthedogakicktosilencehiswhiningwhenthefootthrobbed，heclimbedintobed。Hedidnotputoutthelight，forfearoftheghost，but，wornoutwiththesorrowsoftheday，wassoonasleephimself。

Aboutfouro’clockWaldo，lyingbetweentheseatsofthehorse—wagon，wasawakenedbyagentletouchonhishead。

Sittingup，heespiedBonapartelookingthroughoneofthewindowswithalightedcandleinhishand。

"I’mabouttodepart，mydearboy，beforemyenemiesarise，andIcouldnotleavewithoutcomingtobidyoufarewell，"saidBonaparte。

Waldolookedathim。

"Ishallalwaysthinkofyouwithaffection"saidBonaparte。"Andthere’sthatoldhatofyours，ifyoucouldletmehaveitforakeepsake——"

"Takeit，"saidWaldo。

"Ithoughtyouwouldsayso，soIbroughtitwithme，"saidBonaparte，puttingiton。"TheLordblessyou，mydearboy。Youhaven’tafewshillings——justatrifleyoudon’tneed——haveyou？"

"Takethetwoshillingsthatareinthebrokenvase。"

"MaytheblessingofmyGodrestuponyou，mydearchild，"saidBonaparte；

"mayHeguideandblessyou。Givemeyourhand。"

Waldofoldedhisarmsclosely，andlaydown。

"Farewell，adieu！"saidBonaparte。"MaytheblessingofmyGodandmyfather’sGodrestonyou，nowandevermore。"

Withthesewordstheheadandnosewithdrewthemselves，andthelightvanishedfromthewindow。

Afterafewmomentstheboy，lyinginthewagon，heardstealthyfootstepsastheypassedthewagon—houseandmadetheirwaydowntheroad。Helistenedastheygrewfainterandfainter，andatlastdiedawayaltogether，andfromthatnightthefootstepofBonaparteBlenkinswasheardnomoreattheoldfarm。

ENDOfPARTI。

PARTII。

"Anditwasallplay，andnoonecouldtellwhatithadlivedandworkedfor。Astriving，andastriving，andanendinginnothing。"

Chapter2。I。TimesandSeasons。

Waldolayonhisstomachonthesand。SinceheprayedandhowledtohisGodinthefuel—housethreeyearshadpassed。

Theysaythatintheworldtocometimeisnotmeasuredoutbymonthsandyears。Neitherisithere。Thesoul’slifehasseasonsofitsown；

periodsnotfoundinanycalendar，timesthatyearsandmonthswillnotscan，butwhichareasdeftlyandsharplycutofffromoneanotherasthesmoothly—arrangedyearswhichtheearth’smotionyieldsus。

Tostrangereyesthesedivisionsarenotevident；buteach，lookingbackatthelittletrackhisconsciousnessilluminates，seesitcutintodistinctportions，whoseboundariesaretheterminationofmentalstates。

Asmandiffersfromman，sodifferthesesouls’years。Themostmateriallifeisnotdevoidofthem；thestoryofthemostspiritualistoldinthem。Anditmaychancethatsome，lookingback，seethepastcutoutafterthisfashion：

I。

Theyearofinfancy，wherefromtheshadowybackgroundofforgetfulnessstartoutpicturesofstartlingclearness，disconnected，butbrightlycoloured，andindeliblyprintedinthemind。Muchthatfollowsfades，butthecoloursofthosebaby—picturesarepermanent。

Thererises，perhaps，awarmsummer’sevening；weareseatedonthedoorstep；wehaveyetthetasteofthebreadandmilkinourmouth，andtheredsunsetisreflectedinourbasin。

Thenthereisadarknight，where，wakingwithafearthatthereissomegreatbeingintheroom，werunfromourownbedtoanother，creepclosetosomelargefigure，andarecomforted。

Thenthereisremembranceofthepridewhen，onsomeone’sshoulder，withourarmsaroundtheirhead，weridetoseethelittlepigs，thenewlittlepigswiththeircurledtailsandtinysnouts——wheredotheycomefrom？

Remembranceofdelightinthefeelandsmellofthefirstorangeweeversee；ofsorrowwhichmakesusputupourlip，andcryhard，whenonemorningwerunouttotryandcatchthedewdrops，andtheymeltandwetourlittlefingers；ofalmightyanddespairingsorrowwhenwearelostbehindthekraals，andcannotseethehouseanywhere。

Andthenonepicturestartsoutmorevividlythanany。

Therehasbeenathunderstorm；theground，asfarastheeyecanreach，iscoveredwithwhitehail；thecloudsaregone，andoverheadadeepblueskyisshowing；faroffagreatrainbowrestsonthewhiteearth。We，standinginawindowtolook，feelthecool，unspeakablysweetwindblowinginonus，andafeelingoflongingcomesoverus——unutterablelonging，wecannottellforwhat。Wearesosmall，ourheadonlyreachesashighasthefirstthreepanes。Welookatthewhiteearth，andtherainbow，andthebluesky；andoh，wewantit，wewant——wedonotknowwhat。Wecryasthoughourheartwasbroken。Whenoneliftsourlittlebodyfromthewindowwecannottellwhatailsus。Werunawaytoplay。

Solooksthefirstyear。

II。

Nowthepicturesbecomecontinuousandconnected。Materialthingsstillrule，butthespiritualandintellectualtaketheirplaces。

Inthedarknightwhenweareafraidweprayandshutoureyes。Wepressourfingersveryharduponthelids，andseedarkspotsmovingroundandround，andweknowtheyareheadsandwingsofangelssenttotakecareofus，seendimlyinthedarkastheymoveroundourbed。Itisveryconsoling。

Inthedaywelearnourletters，andaretroubledbecausewecannotseewhyk—n—o—wshouldbeknow，andp—s—a—l—mpsalm。Theytellusitissobecauseitisso。Wearenotsatisfied；wehatetolearn；welikebettertobuildlittlestonehouses。Wecanbuildthemasweplease，andknowthereasonforthem。

Otherjoystoowehaveincomparablygreatertheneventhebuildingofstonehouses。

Wearerunthroughwithashudderofdelightwhenintheredsandwecomeononeofthosewhitewaxflowersthatliebetweentheirtwogreenleavesflatonthesand。Wehardlydarepickthem，butwefeelcompelledtodoso；andwesmellandsmelltillthedelightbecomesalmostpain。Afterwardwepullthegreenleavessoftlyintopiecestoseethesilkthreadsrunacross。

Beyondthekopjegrowsomepale—green，hairy—leavedbushes。Wearesosmall，theymeetoverourhead，andwesitamongthem，andkissthem，andtheyloveusback；itseemsasthoughtheywerealive。

Onedaywesitthereandlookupatthebluesky，anddownatourfatlittleknees；andsuddenlyitstrikesus，Whoarewe？ThisI，whatisit？

Wetrytolookinuponourselves，andourselfbeatsbackuponourself。

Thenwegetupingreatfearandrunhomeashardaswecan。Wecan’ttellanyonewhatfrightenedus。Weneverquitelosethatfeelingofselfagain。

III。

Andthenanewtimerises。Wearesevenyearsold。Wecanreadnow——readtheBible。BestofallwelikethestoryofElijahinhiscaveatHoreb，andthestillsmallvoice。

Oneday，anotableone，wereadonthekopje，anddiscoverthefifthchapterofMatthew，andreaditallthrough。Itisanewgold—mine。ThenwetucktheBibleunderourarmandrushedhome。Theydidn’tknowitwaswickedtotakeyourthingsagainifsomeonetookthem，wickedtogotolaw，wickedto——！Wearequitebreathlesswhenwegettothehouse；wetellthemwehavediscoveredachaptertheyneverheardof；wetellthemwhatitsays。Theoldwisepeopletellustheyknewallaboutit。Ourdiscoveryisamare’s—nesttothem；buttousitisveryreal。Thetencommandmentsandtheold"Thoushalt"wehaveheardaboutlongenoughanddon’tcareaboutit；butthisnewlawsetsusonfire。

Wewilldenyourself。Ourlittlewagonthatwehavemade，wegivetothelittleKaffers。Wekeepquietwhentheythrowsandatus（feeling，oh，sohappy）。Weconscientiouslyputthecrackedteacupforourselvesatbreakfast，andtaketheburntroaster—cake。Wesaveourmoney，andbuythreepenceoftobaccofortheHottentotmaidwhocallsusnames。Weareexoticallyvirtuous。Atnightweareprofoundlyreligious；eventhetickingwatchsays，"Eternity，eternity！hell，hell，hell！"andthesilencetalksofGod，andthethingsthatshallbe。

Occasionally，also，unpleasantlyshrewdquestionsbegintobeaskedbysomeone，weknownotwho，whositssomewherebehindourshoulder。Wegettoknowhimbetterafterward。

Nowwecarrythequestionstothegrown—uppeople，andtheygiveusanswers。Wearemoreorlesssatisfiedforthetime。Thegrown—uppeopleareverywise，andtheysayitwaskindofGodtomakehell，andverylovingofHimtosendmenthere；andbesides，hecouldn’thelpHimself，andtheyareverywise，wethink，sowebelievethem——moreorless。

IV。

Thenanewtimecomes，ofwhichtheleadingfeatureis，thattheshrewdquestionsareaskedlouder。Wecarrythemtothegrown—uppeople；theyanswerus，andwearenotsatisfied。

Andnowbetweenusandthedearoldworldofthesensesthespirit—worldbeginstopeepin，andwhollycloudsitover。Whataretheflowerstous？

Theyarefuelwaitingforthegreatburning。Welookatthewallsofthefarmhouseandthematter—of—factsheep—kraals，withthemerrysunshineplayingoverall；anddonotseeit。Butweseeagreatwhitethrone，andhimthatsitsonit。AroundHimstandagreatmultitudethatnomancannumber，harpersharpingwiththeirharps，athousandtimestenthousand，andthousandsofthousands。Howwhitearetheirrobes，washedinthebloodoftheLamb！Andthemusicriseshigher，andrendsthevaultofheavenwithitsunutterablesweetness。Andwe，aswelisten，everandanon，asitsinksonthesweetest，lowestnote，hearagroanofthedamnedfrombelow。

Weshudderinthesunlight。

"Thetorment，"saysJeremyTaylor，whosesermonsourfatherreadsaloudintheevening，"comprisesasmanytormentsasthebodyofmanhasjoints，sinews，arteries，etc。，beingcausedbythatpenetratingandrealfireofwhichthistemporalfireisbutapaintedfire。Whatcomparisonwilltherebebetweenburningforahundredyears’spaceandtobeburningwithoutintermissionaslongasGodisGod！"

Werememberthesermonthereinthesunlight。Onecomesandaskswhywesittherenoddingsomoodily。Ah，theydonotseewhatwesee。

"Amoment’stime，anarrowspace，Dividesmefromthatheavenlyplace，Orshutsmeupinhell。"

SosaysWesley’shymn，whichwesingeveningbyevening。Whatmattersunshineandwalls，menandsheep？

"Thethingswhichareseenaretemporal，butthethingswhicharenotseenareeternal。"Theyarereal。

TheBiblewebearalwaysinourbreast；itspagesareourfood；welearntorepeatit；weweepmuch，forinsunshineandinshade，intheearlymorningorthelateevening，inthefieldorinthehouse，thedevilwalkswithus。

Hecomestoarealperson，copper—colouredface，headalittleononeside，foreheadknit，askingquestions。Believeme，itwerebettertobefollowedbythreedeadlydiseasesthanbyhim。Heisneversilenced——withoutmercy。

Thoughthedropsofbloodstandoutonyourhearthewillputhisquestion。

Softlyhecomesup（weareonlyaweebitchild）；"IsitgoodofGodtomakehell？WasitkindofHimtoletnoonebeforgivenunlessJesusChristdied？"

Thenhegoesoff，andleavesuswrithing。Presentlyhecomesback。

"DoyouloveHim？"——waitsalittle。"DoyouloveHim？Youwillbelostifyoudon’t。"

Wesaywetryto。

"Butdoyou？"Thenhegoesoff。

Itisnothingtohimifwegoquitemadwithfearatourownwickedness。

Heaskson，thequestioningdevil；hecaresnothingwhathesays。Welongtotellsomeone，thattheymayshareourpain。Wedonotyetknowthatthecupofafflictionismadewithsuchanarrowmouththatonlyonelipcandrinkatatime，andthateachman’scupismadetomatchhislip。

Onedaywetrytotellsomeone。Thenagraveheadisshakensolemnlyatus。Wearewicked，verywicked，theysayweoughtnottohavesuchthoughts。Godisgood，verygood。Wearewicked，verywicked。Thatisthecomfortweget。Wicked！Oh，Lord！dowenotknowit？Isitnotthesenseofourownexceedingwickednessthatisdryingupouryoungheart，fillingitwithsand，makingalllifeadust—binforus？

Wicked？Weknowit！Tooviletolive，tooviletodie，tooviletocreepoverthis，God’searth，andmoveamongHisbelievingmen。Hellistheoneplaceforhimwhohateshismaster，andtherewedonotwanttogo。Thisisthecomfortwegetfromtheold。

Andonceagainwetrytoseekforcomfort。Thistimegreateyeslookatuswondering，andlovelylittlelipssay：

"Ifitmakesyousounhappytothinkofthesethings，whydoyounotthinkofsomethingelse，andforget？"

Forget！Weturnawayandshrinkintoourself。Forget，andthinkofotherthings！Oh，God！dotheynotunderstandthatthematerialworldisbutafilm，througheveryporeofwhichGod’sawfulspiritworldisshiningthroughonus？Wekeepasfarfromothersaswecan。

Onenight，arareclearmoonlightnight，wekneelinthewindow；everyoneelseisasleep，butwekneelreadingbythemoonlight。Itisachapterintheprophets，tellinghowthechosenpeopleofGodshallbecarriedontheGentiles’shoulders。Surelythedevilmightleaveusalone；thereisnotmuchtohandleforhimthere。Butpresentlyhecomes。

"Isitrightthereshouldbeachosenpeople？ToHim，whoisfathertoall，shouldnotallbedear？"

Howcanweanswerhim？Wewerefeelingsogoodtillhecame。WeputourheaddownontheBibleandblisteritwithtears。Thenwefoldourhandsoverourheadandpray，tillourteethgrindtogether。Oh，thatfromthatspirit—world，sorealandyetsosilent，thatsurroundsus，onewordwouldcometoguideus！Weareleftalonewiththisdevil；andGoddoesnotwhispertous。SuddenlyweseizetheBible，turningitroundandround，andsayhurriedly：

"ItwillbeGod’svoicespeakingtous；Hisvoiceasthoughweheardit。"

WeyearnforatokenfromtheinexorablySilentOne。

Weturnthebook，putourfingerdownonapage，andbendtoreadbythemoonlight。ItisGod’sanswer。Wetremble。

"ThenfourteenyearsafterIwentupagaintoJerusalemwithBarnabas，andtookTituswithmealso。"

Foraninstantourimaginationseizesit；wearetwisting，twirling，tryingtomakeanallegory。Thefourteenyearsarefourteenmonths；wearePaulandthedevilisBarnabas，Titusis——Thenasuddenloathingcomestous：

weareliarsandhypocrites，wearetryingtodeceiveourselves。WhatisPaultous——andJerusalem？WeareBarnabasandTitus？Weknownotthemen。Beforeweknowweseizethebook，swingitroundourhead，andflingitwithallourmighttothefurtherendoftheroom。Weputdownourheadagainandweep。

Youthandignorance；isthereanythingelsethatcanweepso？Itisasthoughthetearsweredropsofbloodcongealedbeneaththeeyelids；nothingelseislikethosetears。Afteralongtimeweareweakwithcrying，andliesilent，andbychanceweknockagainstthewoodthatstopsthebrokenpane。Itfalls。Uponourhotstifffaceasweetbreathofwindblows。Weraiseourhead，andwithourswolleneyeslookoutatthebeautifulstillworld，andthesweetnight—windblowsinuponus，holyandgentle，likealovingbreathfromthelipsofGod。Overusadeeppeacecomes，acalm，stilljoy；thetearsnowflowreadilyandsoftly。Oh，theunutterablegladness！Atlast，atlastwehavefoundit！"ThepeacewithGod。""Thesenseofsinsforgiven。"Alldoubtvanished，God’svoiceinthesoul，theHolySpiritfillingus！WefeelHim！WefeelHim！Oh，JesusChrist，throughyou，throughyouthisjoy！Wepressourhandsuponourbreastandlookupwardwithadoringgladness。Softwavesofblissbreakthroughus。

"ThepeacewithGod。""Thesenseofsinsforgiven。"Methodistsandrevivalistssaythewords，andthemockingworldshootsoutitslip，andwalksbysmiling——"Hypocrite。"

Therearemorefoolsandfewerhypocritesthanthewiseworlddreamsof。

Thehypocriteisrareasicebergsinthetropics；thefoolcommonasbuttercupsbesideawater—furrow：whetheryougothiswayorthatyoutreadonhim；youdarenotlookatyourownreflectioninthewaterbutyouseeone。Thereisnocantphrase，rottenwithage，butitwasthedressofalivingbody；nonebutatheartitsignifiesarealbodilyormentalconditionwhichsomehavepassedthrough。

Afterhoursandnightsoffrenziedfearofthesupernaturaldesiretoappeasethepowerabove，afiercequiveringexcitementineveryinchofnerveandbloodvessel，therecomesatimewhennaturecannotendurelonger，andthespringlongbentrecoils。Wesinkdownemasculated。Upcreepsthedeadlydeliciouscalm。

"Ihaveblottedoutasacloudthysins，andasathickcloudthytrespasses，andwillrememberthemnomoreforever。"Weweepwithsofttransportingjoy。

Afewexperiencethis；manyimaginetheyexperienceit，onehereandthereliesaboutit。Inthemain，"ThepeacewithGod；asenseofsinsforgiven，"standsforacertainmentalandphysicalreaction。Itsrealitythoseknowwhohavefeltit。

Andwe，onthatmoonlightnight，putdownourheadonthewindow，"Oh，God！

wearehappy，happy；thychildforever。Oh，thankyou，God！"andwedropasleep。

NextmorningtheBiblewekiss。WeareGod’sforever。Wegoouttowork，anditgoeshappilyallday，happilyallnight；buthardlysohappily，nothappilyatall，thenextday；andthenextnightthedevilasksus，"whereisyourHolySpirit？"

Wecannottell。