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least。 Once I heard the cry of murder； but where； in that chaos of
humanity； right or left； before or behind me； I could not even
guess。 Home to such regions； from gorgeous stage…scenery and
dresses； from splendid； mirror…beladen casinos； from singing…halls；
and places of private and prolonged revelry； trail the daughters of
men at all hours from midnight till morning。 Next day they drink
hell…fire that they may forget。 Sleep brings an hour or two of
oblivion； hardly of peace； but they must wake； worn and miserable；
and the waking brings no hope： their only known help lies in the
gin…shop。 What can be done with them？ But the secrets God keeps
must be as good as those he tells。
But no sights of the night ever affected me so much as walking
through this same St。 Giles's on a summer Sunday morning； when
church…goers were in church。 Oh！ the faces that creep out into the
sunshine then； and haunt their doors！ Some of them but skins drawn
over skulls； living Death's…heads； grotesque in their hideousness。
I was not very far from Falconer's abode。 My mind was oppressed
with sad thoughts and a sense of helplessness。 I began to wonder
what Falconer might at that moment be about。 I had not seen him for
a long timea whole fortnight。 He might be at home： I would go and
see； and if there were light in his windows I would ring his bell。
I went。 There was light in his windows。 He opened the door
himself； and welcomed me。 I went up with him； and we began to talk。
I told him of my sad thoughts； and my feelings of helplessness。
'He that believeth shall not make haste；' he said。 'There is plenty
of time。 You must not imagine that the result depends on you； or
that a single human soul can be lost because you may fail。 The
question； as far as you are concerned； is； whether you are to be
honoured in having a hand in the work that God is doing； and will
do； whether you help him or not。 Some will be honoured： shall it be
me？ And this honour gained excludes no one： there is work； as there
is bread in his house； enough and to spare。 It shows no faith in
God to make frantic efforts or frantic lamentations。 Besides； we
ought to teach ourselves to see； as much as we may； the good that is
in the condition of the poor。'
'Teach me to see that； then；' I said。 'Show me something。'
'The best thing is their kindness to each other。 There is an
absolute divinity in their self…denial for those who are poorer than
themselves。 I know one man and woman； married people； who pawned
their very furniture and wearing apparel to procure cod…liver oil
for a girl dying in consumption。 She was not even a relative； only
an acquaintance of former years。 They had found her destitute and
taken her to their own poor home。 There are fathers and mothers who
will work hard all the morning； and when dinner…time comes 〃don't
want any；〃 that there may be enough for their childrenor half
enough； more likely。 Children will take the bread out of their own
mouths to put in that of their sick brother； or to stick in the fist
of baby crying for a crustgiving only a queer little helpless
grin； half of hungry sympathy； half of pleasure； as they see it
disappear。 The marvel to me is that the children turn out so well
as they do； but that applies to the children in all ranks of life。
Have you ever watched a group of poor children； half…a…dozen of
them with babies in their arms？'
'I have； a little； and have seen such a strange mixture of
carelessness and devotion。'
'Yes。 I was once stopped in the street by a child of ten； with face
absolutely swollen with weeping； asking me to go and see baby who
was very ill。 She had dropped him four times that morning； but had
no idea that could have done him any harm。 The carelessness is
ignorance。 Their form of it is not half so shocking as that of the
mother who will tremble at the slightest sign of suffering in her
child； but will hear him lie against his brother without the
smallest discomfort。 Ah！ we shall all find； I fear； some day； that
we have differed from each other； where we have done best； only in
modeperhaps not even in degree。 A grinding tradesman takes
advantage of the over supply of labour to get his work done at
starvation prices： I owe him love； and have never thought of paying
my debt except in boundless indignation。'
'I wish I had your faith and courage； Mr。 Falconer；' I said。
'You are in a fair way of having far more；' he returned。 'You are
not so old as I am； by a long way。 But I fear you are getting out
of spirits。 Is to…morrow a hard day with you？'
'I have next to nothing to do to…morrow。'
'Then will you come to me in the evening？ We will go out together。'
Of course I was only too glad to accept the proposal。 But our talk
did not end here。 The morning began to shine before I rose to leave
him； and before I reached my abode it was broad daylight。 But what
a different heart I carried within me！ And what a different London
it was outside of me！ The scent of the hayfields came on the
hardly…moving air。 It was a strange morninga new day of unknown
historyin whose young light the very streets were transformed；
looking clear and clean； and wondrously transparent in perspective；
with unknown shadows lying in unexpected nooks； with projection and
recess； line and bend； as I had never seen them before。 The light
was coming as if for the first time since the city sprang into
beingas if a thousand years had rolled over it in darkness and
lamplight； and now； now； after the prayers and longings of ages； the
sun of God was ascending the awful east； and the spirit…voice had
gone forth： 'Arise； shine； for thy light is come。'
It was a well…behaved； proper London through which I walked home。
Here and there； it is true； a debauched…looking man； with pale
face； and red sleepy eyes； or a weary； withered girl； like a
half…moon in the daylight； straggled somewhither。 But they looked
strange to the London of the morning。 They were not of it。 Alas
for those who creep to their dens； like the wild beasts when the sun
arises； because the light has shaken them out of the world。 All the
horrid phantasms of the Valley of the Shadow of Death that had risen
from the pit with the vaporous night had sunk to escape the arrows
of the sun； once more into its bottomless depth。 If any horrid deed
was doing now； how much more horrid in the awful still light of this
first hour of a summer morn！ How many evil passions now lay sunk
under the holy waves of sleep！ How many heartaches were gnawing
only in dreams； to wake with the brain； and gnaw in earnest again！
And over all brooded the love of the Lord Christ； who is Lord over
all blessed for ever； and shall yet cast death and hell into the
lake of firethe holy purifying Fate。
I got through my sole engagementa very dreary one； for surely
never were there stupider young people in the whole region of rank
than tho