two
things: he knew what it would be well for others to know; and he had a
hunger after the society of books. A man must be able to do without
whatever is denied him, but when his heart is hungry for an honest
thing, he may use honest endeavour to obtain it. Donal desired to be
useful and live for his generation, also to be with books. To be where
was a good library would suit him better than buying books, for without
a place in which to keep them, they are among the impedimenta of life.
And Donal knew that in regard to books he was in danger of loving after
the fashion of this world: books he had a strong inclination to
accumulate and hoard; therefore the use of a library was better than
the means of buying them. Books as possessions are also of the things
that pass and perish--as surely as any other form of earthly having;
they are of the playthings God lets men have that they may learn to
distinguish between apparent and real possession: if having will not
teach them, loss may.

But who would have thought, meeting the youth as he walked the road
with shoeless feet, that he sought the harbour of a great library in
some old house, so as day after day to feast on the thoughts of men who
had gone before him! For his was no antiquarian soul; it was a soul
hungry after life, not after the mummy cloths enwrapping the dead.

CHAPTER II.

A SPIRITUAL FOOT-PAD.

He was now walking southward, but would soon, when the mountains were
well behind him, turn toward the east. He carried a small wallet,
filled chiefly with oatcake and hard skim-milk cheese: about two
o'clock he sat down on a stone, and proceeded to make a meal. A brook
from the hills ran near: for that he had chosen the spot, his fare
being dry. He seldom took any other drink than water: he had learned
that strong drink at best but discounted to him his own at a high rate.

He drew from his pocket a small thick volume he had brought as the
companion of his journey, and read as he ate. His seat was on the last
slope of a grassy hill, where many huge stones rose out of the grass.
A few yards beneath was a country road, and on the other side of the
road a small stream, in which the brook that ran swiftly past, almost
within reach of his hand, eagerly lost itself. On the further bank of
the stream, perfuming the air, grew many bushes of meadow-sweet, or
queen-of-the-meadow, as it is called in Scotland; and beyond lay a
lovely stretch of nearly level p