ndeavoured to lure from dead clay or wood or stone the
face and form that ever hovered before him. There even came moments
when he grew weary and embraced his own handiwork and prayed to it and
wet it with his tears. But the stone remained cold stone. And as he
waxed in years the youth destroyed his creations, which already seemed
to him a vile defamation of his ever-present dreams. At last fate
brought him to a good barbarian, who asked him for the cause of his
constant mourning. When the youth, confided to him the hopes and
longings of his soul, the barbarian, a wise man, said:

"'The world would be better did such a man and such a country exist as
that of which you speak. But by what mark would you recognise your
father?'

"'In my country,' answered the youth, 'they reverenced wisdom and
virtue and looked up to my father as to the master.'

"'Well and good,' answered the barbarian. 'I must assume that a kernel
of your father's teaching resides in you. Therefore take up the
wanderer's staff, and proceed on your way. Seek perfect wisdom and
truth, and when you have found them, cast aside your staff--there will
be your home and your father.'

"And the youth went on his way at break of day--"

"Did he find the one whom he sought?"

"He is still seeking. Many countries, cities and men has he seen. He
has come to know all the ways by land; he has traversed the stormy
seas; he has searched the courses of the stars in heaven by which a
pilgrim can direct his course in the limitless deserts. And each time
that on his wearisome way an inviting fire lighted up the darkness
before his eyes, his heart beat faster and hope crept into his soul.
'That is my father's hospitable house,' he thought.

"And when a hospitable host would greet the tired traveller and offer
him the peace and blessing of his hearth, the youth would fall at his
feet and say with emotion: 'I thank you, my father! Do you not
recognise your son?'

"And many were prepared to take him as their son, for at that time
children were frequently kidnapped. But after the first glow of
enthusiasm, the youth would detect traces of imperfection, sometimes
even of wickedness. Then he would begin to investigate and to test his
host with questions concerning justice and injustice. And soon he
would be driven forth again upon the cold wearisome way. More than
once he said to himself: 'I will remain at this last hearth, I will
preserve my last belief. It shall be the h