"There are lions of another sort," said Dolly, standing still and with her eyes fixed upon the wonderful old pile in the distance. "There is always work to be done for God, Rupert, and dangers or difficulties to be faced; and to the people who face any lions for His sake, there is a promise of praise and honour and blessing that will last for ever."
"Then you would make all a man's work to be work for God?" said Rupert, not satisfied with this view of the question. "What is to become of all the rest of the things that are to be done in the world?"
"There ought not to be anything else done in the world," said Dolly, laughing, as she turned and began to walk on again. "It ought all to be done for Him. Merchants ought to make money for His service; and lawyers ought to strive to bring God's order between man and man, and justice to every one, and that never wrong should be done or oppression exercised by anybody. 'Break every yoke, and let the oppressed go free.' And soldiers ought to fight for no other reason but to protect weaker people from violence and wrong. And so on of everything else. And, Rupert, God has promised a city, of His own preparing, for His people; it will be a place of delights; and I am thinking of that word,—'Blessed are they that do His commandments; that they may have a right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.' I don't believe anybody that is left outside will think much of what we call greatness in that day."
"Why, the world wouldn't be the world, at that rate," cried Rupert.
"Think it wouldn't be altered for the better?"
"But a few people can't make it like that."
"Suppose they make only a very little piece of it like that?—But then comes the end, Rupert, and the King's 'Well done!'"
"Then you wouldn't have a man make as much as he can of himself," said Rupert after a dissatisfied pause.
"Certainly I would."
"What use?"