ies of
the road, but by a certain reflecting power it turned inward on
themselves, and revealed to them ugly sights in their own hearts to
which they rather chose to be blind; for those travellers "chose
darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil." Now it was
remarkable that these two properties were inseparable, and that the
lamp would be of little outward use, except to those who used it as
an internal reflector. A threat and a promise also never failed to
accompany the offer of this light from the King: a promise, that to
those who improved what they had, more should be given; and a threat,
that from those who did not use it wisely, should be taken away even
what they had.

I observed that when the road was very dangerous, when terrors and
difficulties and death beset the faithful traveller, then, on their
fervent importunity, the King voluntarily gave large and bountiful
supplies of light, such as in common seasons never could have been
expected; always proportioning the quantity given to the necessity of
the case: "As their day was," such was their light and strength.

Though many chose to depend entirely on their own lamp, yet it was
observed that this light was apt to go out, if left to itself. It was
easily blown out by those violent gusts which were perpetually howling
through the wilderness, and indeed it was the natural tendency of that
unwholesome atmosphere to extinguish it; just as you have seen a
candle go out when exposed to the vapors and foul air of a damp room.
It was a melancholy sight to see multitudes of travellers heedlessly
pacing on, boasting they had light enough, and despising the offer of
more.

But what astonished me most of all was, to see many, and some of them,
too, accounted men of firstrate wit, actually busy in blowing out
their own light, because, while any spark of it remained, it only
served to torment them, and point out things which they did not wish
to see. And having once blown out their own light, they were not easy
till they had blown out that of their neighbor's also; so that a good
part of the wilderness seemed to exhibit a sort of universal
_blind-man's-buff_, each endeavoring to catch his neighbor, while his
own voluntary blindness exposed him to be caught himself, so that each
was actually falling into the snare he was laying for another; till at
length, as selfishness is the natural consequence of blindness, "catch
he that catch can," became the genera