"But we have only met once before," said Barnabas.
"True! And yet I seem to have known you years ago,--that is what
puzzles me! But come, young sir,--if you have time and inclination
to share a vagrant's breakfast, I can offer you eggs and new milk,
and bread and butter,--simple fare, but more wholesome than your
French ragouts and highly-seasoned dishes."
"You are very kind," said Barnabas, "the ride has made me hungry,
--besides, I should like to talk with you."
"Why, then--light down from that great horse of yours, and join me.
The grass must be both chair and table, but here is a tree for your
back, and the bank for mine."
So, having dismounted and secured his horse's bridle to a convenient
branch, Barnabas sat himself down with his back to the tree, and
accepted the wandering Preacher's bounty as freely as it was offered.
And when the Preacher had spoken a short grace, they began to eat,
and while they ate, to talk, as follows: Barnabas. "It is three weeks, I think, since we met?"
The Preacher. "A month, young sir."
Barnabas. "So long a time?"
The Preacher. "So short a time. You have been busy, I take it?"
Barnabas. "Yes, sir. Since last we met I have bought a house and set
up an establishment in London, and I have also had the good fortune
to be entered for the Gentleman's Steeplechase on the fifteenth."
The Preacher. "You are rich, young sir?"
Barnabas. "And I hope to be famous also."
The Preacher. "Then indeed do I begin to tremble for you."
Barnabas (staring). "Why so?"
The Preacher. "Because wealth is apt to paralyze effort, and Fame is
generally harder to bear, and far more dangerous, than failure."
Barnabas. "How dangerous, sir?"
The Preacher. "Because he who listens too often to the applause of
the multitude grows deaf to the voice of Inspiration, for it is a
very small, soft voice, and must be hearkened for, and some call it
Genius, and some the Voice of God--"
Barnabas. "But Fame means Power, and I would succeed for the sake of
others beside myself. Yes,--I must succeed, and, as I think you once
said, all things are possible to us! Pray, what did you mean?"
The Preacher. "Young sir, into each of us who are born into this
world God puts something of Himself, and by reason of this Divine
part, all things are possible."
Barnabas. "Yet the world is full of failures."
The Preacher. "Alas! yes; but only because men do not realize power
within them. For man is a selfish creature, and Self is always
grossly blind. But let a man look within himself, let him but become
convinced of this Divine power, and the sure and certain knowledge
of ultimate success will be his. So, striving diligently, this power
shall grow within him, and by and by he shall achieve great things,
and the world proclaim him a Genius."