makes the misery. We call life-in-death life, and hence the mistake. If
gladness were not at the root, whence its opposite sorrow, against which
we arise, from which we recoil, with which we fight? We recognise it as
death--the contrary of life. There could be no sorrow but for a recognition
of primordial bliss. This in us that fights must be life. It is of the
nature of light, not of darkness; darkness is nothing until the light
comes. This very childplay, as you call it, of Nature, is her assertion of
the secret that life is the deepest, that life shall conquer death. Those
who believe this must bear the good news to them that sit in darkness and
the shadow of death. Our Lord has conquered death--yea, the moral death
that he called the world; and now, having sown the seed of light, the
harvest is springing in human hearts, is springing in this dance of
radiance, and will grow and grow until the hearts of the children of the
kingdom shall frolic in the sunlight of the Father's presence. Nature has
God at her heart; she is but the garment of the Invisible. God wears his
singing robes in a day like this, and says to his children, 'Be not afraid:
your brothers and sisters up there in London are in my hands; go and help
them. I am with you. Bear to them the message of joy. Tell them to be of
good cheer: I have overcome the world. Tell them to endure hunger, and not
sin; to endure passion, and not yield; to admire, and not desire. Sorrow
and pain are serving my ends; for by them will I slay sin; and save my
children.'"

"I wish I could believe as you do, Mr. Walton."

"I wish you could. But God will teach you, if you are willing to be
taught."

"I desire the truth, Mr. Walton."