fulfilled. Yet from time to time I, a mortal, seem to stand upon the
borders of that immortal Road and watch the newly dead who travel it
towards the glorious Gates.

Once or twice there have been among them people whom I have known. As
these pass me I appear to have the power of looking into their hearts,
and there I read strange things. Sometimes they are beautiful things and
sometimes ugly things. Thus I have learned that those I thought bad were
really good in the main, for who can claim to be quite good? And on the
other hand that those I believed to be as honest as the day--well, had
their faults.

To take an example which I quote because it is so absurd. The rooms I
live in were owned by a prim old woman who for more than twenty years
was my landlady. She and I were great friends, indeed she tended me like
a mother, and when I was so ill nursed me as perhaps few mothers would
have done. Yet while I was watching on the Road suddenly she came by,
and with horror I saw that during all those years she had been robbing
me, taking, I am sorry to say, many things, in money, trinkets, and
food. Often I had discussed with her where these articles could possibly
have gone, till finally suspicion settled upon the man who cleaned the
windows. Yes, and worst of all, he was prosecuted, and I gave evidence
against him, or rather strengthened her evidence, on faith of which the
magistrate sent him to prison for a month.

"Oh! Mrs Smithers," I said to her, "how _could_ you do it, Mrs.
Smithers?"

She stopped and looked about her terrified, so that my heart smote me
and I added in haste, "Don't be frightened, Mrs. Smithers; I forgive