The Radiant City

by Evelyn R. Garratt

"'My soul thirsteth for Thee, my flesh longeth for Thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is.' 'As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after Thee, O God.'"

At last, as he reached the bottom of the valley, he perceived a cross standing in the midst of the path along which he had to tread, and with a cry of gratitude he flung himself beneath its shadow, and a great peace stole in upon him; the peace of sin forgiven.

Spiritual Pride's soldiers, who had been following at a distance, hoping for an opportunity of wounding him again, and anxious lest Amer should altogether escape them, at the sight of the cross and of the prostrate figure of the young soldier at its foot, felt that their power was almost gone, and leaving only one to keep watch at his elbow, and to give them a warning should a likely chance occur again of wounding him, turned back to worry and annoy some other poor traveller. But the man they had left behind felt his post to be a discouraging one, as Amer, on rising to continue his journey again, was on the watch, so that Spiritual Pride's emissary could not get near him.

Once however while Amer was resting on his journey, the enemy managed to gain his ear for a moment.

"How changed you are," he whispered, "you are greater than you have been before, because you are humbler. You never talk of yourself to the passers-by, but always manage to turn the conversation when it is about you. You are getting as humble as Heman."

Amer was rather drowsy when these thoughts entered his mind, but suddenly he recognised the source from which they came, and rising, fully awake again, he dealt such a blow at the enemy that he fell at his feet, dead.

Amer's love for his King had so grown, that now his one great longing and aim was to please Him, and remembering his King's words to the young girl who had tended the little boy across the dark river, and finding them written in his Guide Book, he looked out for the weakest and smallest of the pilgrims that came across his path, to help and to succour them. The people whom others passed by and neglected, became now dear to his heart as he recognised that in serving them he was serving the Great King.

And these did not often happen to be the noblest, the bravest, or the most interesting among the pilgrims, but just the reverse. Many of them would have been wholly uninteresting to Amer, had it not been for the fact that they belonged to his King, and were dear to Him.

"Amer has changed," said one of his friends who had listened with such rapt attention to his words of advice before he had trodden the Valley of Humiliation. "He does not attract crowds around him as formerly; do you not remember how they would walk by his side to catch every word that fell from his lips, even the noblest and the greatest of the pilgrims felt they could learn from him, and followed him."

"You are right," answered the person addressed, "he certainly has not such an audience as formerly, and is not so popular; that is to say people are not drawn to him as they used to be, but I am not sure that they are not drawn more to their King after talking with him."