reflection was already cast upon their path. But still there was one more trial before them; for when they had enjoyed this light for a season, and I thought they must be close upon the sunshine, I saw that they had got into greater darkness than ever. Here, also, they lost sight of one another; for it was a part of the King’s appointment, that each one must pass that dark part alone—it was called “the shadow of death.” Gehulfè, I saw, walked through it easily; his feet were nimble and active, his lamp was bright, his golden vial ever in his hand, his staff firm to lean upon, and the book of light close before his eyes: he was still reading it aloud, and I heard him speak of his King as giving “songs in the night,”—and so, with a glad heart, he passed through the darkness. The brightest sunshine lay close upon the other side of it; and there he was waited for by messengers in robes of light, and they
clad him in the same, and carried him with songs and music into the presence of the King.
But Gottlieb did not pass through so easily. It seemed as if that darkness had power to bring out any weakness with which past accidents had at the time affected the pilgrim: for so it was, that when Gottlieb was in it, he felt all the stunning of his fall come back again upon him, and, for a moment, he seemed well-nigh lost. But his heart was sound, and there was One who was faithful holding him up: so he grasped his good staff tighter than ever, though its roughness had come out again and sorely pricked his hand; but this seemed only to quicken his steps; and when he had gone on a little while thus firmly, as he looked into his book he saw written on its open page, “I will make darkness light before thee.” [76] And as he read them, the words seemed to be
fulfilled, for he stepped joyfully out of the darkness into the clear sunlight. And for him too the messengers were waiting; for him too were garments ready woven of the light; around him were songs, and music, and rejoicing; and so they bare him into the presence of the King.
Now, when I had seen these two pass so happily through their journey into rest, I thought again of the poor trembling Furchtsam, and longed to know that he had got again into the road. But upon looking back to where I had lost sight of him, I saw that he was still lying at the foot of the steep bank, down whose side he had stepped so easily. He had toiled and laboured, and striven to climb up, but it had been all in vain. Still he would not cease his labour; and now he was but waiting to recover his breath to begin to strive again. He was, too, continually calling on the King for aid. Then I saw a figure approaching him in the midst of
his cries. And poor Furchtsam trembled exceedingly, for he was of a very timorous heart, and he scarcely dared to look up to him who stood by him. After a while I heard the man speak to him, and he asked him in a grave, pitying voice, “What doest thou here?” Then the poor boy sobbed out in broken words the confession of his folly, and told how he had feared and left the road, and how he had laboured to get back into it, and how he almost thought that he should never reach it. Then I saw the man look down upon him with a face of tenderness and love; and he stretched forth his hand towards him; and Furchtsam saw that it was the hand which had been pierced for him: so he raised the boy up, and set him on his feet; and he led him straight up the steepest bank. And now it seemed easy to his steps; and he put him back again in the road, and gave the staff into his hand, and bid him “redeem the time, because
the days are evil;” and then he added, “Strengthen ye the weak hands, and confirm the feeble knees.” “Say to them that are of a fearful heart, ‘be strong:’ ‘fear not.’” [79a] Such strength had his touch, his words, and his kind look, given to the heart of the timid boy, that he seized the staff, though its most prickly “discipline” sorely hurt his tender flesh; and leaning on it, he set bravely out without a moment’s delay. And I heard him reading in his book of light as he climbed up the steep path which had affrighted him; and what he read was this: “Before I was afflicted, I went astray; but now have I kept Thy word.” [79b]
When he had almost reached the arbour, another danger awaited him; for in the dim light round him he saw, as he thought, the form of an evil beast lying in the pathway before him. Then did some of his old terrors begin to trouble him; and he
had turned aside, perhaps, out of the way, but that the wholesome roughness of his staff still pricked his hand and forced him to recall his former fall. Instead, therefore, of turning aside, he looked into his book of light, and there he read in fiery letters, “Thou shalt go upon the lion and the adder; the young lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy feet:” and this gave him comfort. So, on he went, determining still to read in his book, and not to look at all at that which affrighted him: and so it was, that when he came to the place, he saw that it was only a bush, which his fears had turned into the figure of a beast of prey; and at the same moment he found where it was written in his book, “No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon, it shall not be found there; but the redeemed shall walk there.” [80]
And now he stood beside the arbour,