“Where there was justice for all.”
“He so loved justice yet so withheld justice.”
“It was the first thing he demanded and the last thing he meted out.”
Darkness now overhung the mountain top, deep night above. At intervals the firs, being fast covered with snow, went on with their broken talk which wandered back and forth along the track of ages. They had but a few minutes for their thoughts of the ages and they lingered here and there as they willed.
“This is part of the mystery: if he were but the earth’s dust and ashes, like everything else, how could it be so? How could the earth which is without sin breed in his race so many sinners? How could the earth, since it speaks only the truth, have been the father of all his lies? How, without sorrow, could it have been the mother of his sorrows? The earth never felt joy; how could it have made him joy incarnate? What does the earth know of greatness yet it made him great. How could that be?”
“It is part of the mystery.”
“Had they realized how alone in the universe they were, would they not have turned to each other for happiness?”
“Would not all have helped each?”
“Would not each have helped all?”
“The longest of their rivers was the river of their own blood.”