will of God, nor even the good desire of humble nature, but only that
which pleased his sick fancies and his self-loving heart. And they
besought him with a thousand arguments to return and choose again the
better way. 'Arise,' they cried, 'thou, miserable, and become great;
arise, thou vain soul, and become noble. Take thy birthright, O son, and
behold the face of the Father.' And then there came a whispering of lower
voices, very penetrating and sweet, like the voices of women and
children, who murmured and cried, 'O father! O brother! O love! O my
child!' The man who was the accused, yet who was the judge, listened; and
his heart burned, and a longing arose within him for the face of the
Father and the better way. But then there came a clang and clamor of
sound on the other side; and voices called out to him as comrade, as
lover, as friend, and reminded him of the delights which once had been so
sweet to him, and of the freedom he loved; and boasted the right of man
to seek what was pleasant and what was sweet, and flouted him as a coward
whose aim was to save himself, and scorned him as a believer in old
wives' tales and superstitions that men had outgrown. And their voices
were so vehement and full of passion that by times they mastered the
others, so that it was as if a tempest raged round the soul which sat in
the midst, and who was the offender and yet the judge of all.

The two spectators watched the conflict, as those who watch the trial
upon which hangs a man's life. It seemed to the little Pilgrim that she
could not keep silent, and that there were things which she could tell
him which no one knew but she. She put her hand upon the arm of the Sage
and called to him, 'Speak you, speak you! he will hear you; and I too
will speak, and he will not resist what we say.' But even as she said
this, eager and straining against her companion's control, the strangest
thing ensued. The man who was set there to judge himself and his life; he
who was the criminal, yet august upon his seat, to weigh all and give the