"Why, I've brought all the money back you gave me, father. You see, I got through without its costing me a penny."
"It grieves me more than all, my son, that you should go through any country and return no equivalent for deeds and kindness given. Rest awhile, and in a few days return to the land and the people I sent you among, and come not back again to me till every farthing is wisely spent."
The youth murmured within himself, but dared not reply. A few days later he departed, to go over the same ground and do the work he had neglected for the sake of a speedy return.
At the end of the second year another returned, looking sad and dispirited.
"Thou hast soon returned, my son," said the father. "Is thy work done in so brief a period?"
The youth hung his head, and answered slowly, "I was so weary, father. I saw so much sorrow among those people, I longed to come home where all is rest and peace. Surely, I was right in that, was I not?"
"Far from it, my child. If there was much sorrow there, that was the very reason why you should have remained. Dost thou not remember those lines I have so often quoted,—
"'Rest is not quitting the busy career:
Rest is the fitting of self to one's sphere'?"
"I remember them well, father," the youth replied; "but I never felt their meaning until now."
"And if you sense it now, my son, what is your duty?"