out upon their world. One longs for death because life is bitter: to others, life comes so hard that we almost ask for death for them. We pray Thee, give these ease, or that light that makes ease of no account."
And the Lord, smiling, listened—
"It cannot be, O Lord, that for the People we can do nothing! In the midst of terrible calamity, shrinking from the gaze of death, or striving against the blow that will rob them of the beloved: sleeping hard in the air of poisonous swamps, ill-fed, ignorant, and oppressed, it cannot be that we, so much more fortunate, can share nothing with them. It cannot be that Thou wilt tell us it is vain to struggle.
"And what would you have?"
"Only the right to share their danger, if nothing can be done. Only to hold their hands and hearten them—to perform some menial service for them—not to feel utterly cut off from fellowship, while they tread the winepress of despair!"
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