minute, the subject being so great; but no
one to see it would have taken it for anything but a busy and wealthy
place, in a thunderous atmosphere, with a storm coming on. In the next
there was a section of a street with a great banqueting hall open to the
view, and many people sitting about the table. You could see that there
was a great deal of laughter and conversation going on, some very noisy
groups, but others that sat more quietly in corners and conversed, and
some who sang, and every kind of entertainment. The little Pilgrim was
very much astonished to see this, and turned to the painter, who answered
her directly, though she had not spoken. "We used to think differently
once. There are some who are there and do not know it. They think only it
is the old life over again, but always worse, and they are led on in the
ways of evil; but they do not feel the punishment until they begin to
find out where they are and to struggle, and wish for other things."

The little Pilgrim felt her heart beat very wildly while she looked at
this, and she thought upon the rich man in the parable, who, though he
was himself in torment, prayed that his brother might be saved, and she
said to herself, "Our dear Lord would never leave him there who could
think of his brother when he was himself in such a strait." And when she
looked at the painter he smiled upon her, and nodded his head. Then he
led her to the other corner of the room where there were other pictures.
One of them was of a party seated round a table and an angel looking
on. The angel had the aspect of a traveller, as if he were passing
quickly by and had but paused a moment to look, and one of the men
glancing up suddenly saw him. The picture was dim, but the startled look
upon this man's face, and the sorrow on the angel's, appeared out of the
misty background with such truth that the tears came into the little
Pilgrim's eyes, and she said in her heart, "Oh that I could go to him and
help him!" The other sketches were dimmer and dimmer. You seemed to see
out of the darkness, gleaming lights, and companies of revellers, out of
which here and there was one trying to escape. And then the wide plains
in the night, and the white vision of the angel in the distance, and here
and there by different paths a fugitive striving to follow. "Oh, sir,"
said the little Pilgrim, "how did you learn to do it? You have never been
there."

"It was the master, not I; and I cannot tell you i