"Anyhow," said another, "we are saved the enemies that often attack those whose path leads them to the peaks. We are not so strong and brave as Amer, and would not be able to overcome them as he has done."
But Amer himself, as he began to descend into the valley through which his path lay, was filled with sadness.
Depression walked by his side, while the family of Morbids held fast hold of his ankles so that his footsteps dragged heavily. He had no courage to fight them or to resist them. So far away seemed the Radiant City and his King that he felt it was almost impossible to look up, and his path lay down, down, down, into the Valley of Humiliation.
He began now to remember how that good soldier, Heman, had shrunk away from anything in the form of praise, how he would never talk about himself, and was always on the watch against the enemy Pride.
He remembered how on the occasion when Belthiah had been asked the secret of her peaceful aspect, Heman had hastily looked around him in search of the enemy, warning her that he was listening for her answer.
He remembered too how, when imprisoned in the cave belonging to Spiritual Pride, he had read the rules that were to be followed by his soldiers, and that one of them was to persuade the man they were in league against, to talk of himself.
He recognized, too, the fact, that all the time he had been deceiving himself into believing that he was praising his King he was praising himself, and he recollected the words of the old pilgrim which at the time they were spoken had filled him with vexation: "Disappoint not our King."
And had he not disappointed Him? Ah! how much!
As Amer descended into the valley, filled with these thoughts, a great hunger took possession of him, a hunger for the Presence of his King and for His approbation. After all, what did the flattery of man matter in comparison with one word of praise from his King. All those who had hung upon his lips, listening to his advice and to his experiences, had probably by now forgotten him: while the King, Whom he had neglected, was still loving him and thinking of him.
In the old days, Amer might have fancied that his sin had robbed him of the love of his King. But he knew his King better now, and he had read in his Guide Book, that "'neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature'" could separate him from the love of his King. So he knew that He must be still looking down in love and pity upon him; although his sins had come as a cloud to hide Him from his sight. And at the thought of His love, of His tender compassion, of His patience with him, notwithstanding his many falls, and the constant disappointments he had caused Him, a great longing took possession of his soul, and he cried out in the words of the Guide Book,