about eighteen, joined us; he had to hurry back
next morning to pull a merchant's barge along the bank. I noticed him
looking straight before him with clear and tender eyes. It was a bright,
warm, still, July night, a cool mist rose from the broad river, we could
hear the plash of a fish, the birds were still, all was hushed and
beautiful, everything praying to God. Only we two were not sleeping, the
lad and I, and we talked of the beauty of this world of God's and of the
great mystery of it. Every blade of grass, every insect, ant, and golden
bee, all so marvelously know their path, though they have not
intelligence, they bear witness to the mystery of God and continually
accomplish it themselves. I saw the dear lad's heart was moved. He told me
that he loved the forest and the forest birds. He was a bird-catcher, knew
the note of each of them, could call each bird. "I know nothing better
than to be in the forest," said he, "though all things are good."

"Truly," I answered him, "all things are good and fair, because all is
truth. Look," said I, "at the horse, that great beast that is so near to
man; or the lowly, pensive ox, which feeds him and works for him; look at
their faces, what meekness, what devotion to man, who often beats them
mercilessly. What gentleness, what confidence and what beauty! It's
touching to know that there's no sin in them, for all, all except man, is
sinless, and Christ has been with them before us."

"Why," asked the boy, "is Christ with them too?"

"It cannot but be so," said I, "since the Word is for all. All creation
and all creatures, every leaf is striving to the Word, singing glory to
God, weeping to Christ, unconsciously accomplishing this by the mystery of
their sinless life. Yonder," said I, "in the forest wanders the dreadful
bear, fierce and menacing, and yet innocent in it." And I told him how
once a bear came to a great saint who had taken refuge in a tiny cell in
the wood. And the great saint pitied him, went up to him without fear and
gave him a piece of bread. "Go along," said he, "Christ be with you," and
the savage beast walked away meekly and obediently, doing no harm. And the
lad was delighted that the bear had walked away without hurting the saint,
and that Christ was with him too. "Ah," said he, "how good that is, how
good and beautiful is all God's work!" He sat musing softly and sweetly. I
saw he understood. And he slept beside me a light and sinless sleep. May
God