But there came a day when messengers from far off lands came over sea a great journey to the temple. And to Eline they told the despair and want and the madness of unbrotherliness that men knew in the countries whence they came, countries where the light shone no longer. Of wars and of famines they spoke, of poverty, oppression, and crime.

“GUARD WELL THE TEMPLE”

“GUARD WELL THE TEMPLE”

Eline’s great compassion could not be silent to appeal. “From these things, I say Humanity SHALL be saved!” said she. “I have a duty here, but there are guardians in the Temple, and the call comes loud to me from the world beyond. I will go!”

Those messengers heard with joy of the success of their journey, for they had traveled far and had overcome many trials and difficulties by the way. And all the time they had hoped in perfect faith that they would return with some encouragement to the country whence they came. And doubtless it was because of the grand faith they showed that Eline herself answered their call.

“Guard well the temple while I am away,” Eline charged her people. “I must travel far, but in no long time I will return!—I will return! Be watchful, therefore, that the light be burning, that the oil fade not. None can tell the time of the coming, whether it be by night or day. With your lives must you guard the light!”

She spoke somewhat sadly as it seemed to them, and they supposed she thought of the great misery and need of those she went to succor in their distress.

And they answered the more eagerly:

“We will! We will!”

For the first time since it had been built the temple was left without its head—a sacred trust indeed.

They thought they knew themselves; they thought they knew the evil in their natures, and the good, did those temple watchers.

And in their surety of knowing they grew careless, so that in no long time they lost their caution. Some there were who were faithless, and these began to tell them of their great success; how they had built the temple; how their industry and labor had succeeded; how well they had learned to know themselves. Gently they suggested these things, gently these sayings took root, almost unperceived.

“Our temple which we have built is very mighty. It can never fall,” they said.

Some few there were who would have spoken for Eline, but they were timid and afraid of those who talked so boastfully. Wherefore they were silent. It is true that one or two attempted to recall the noble deeds of the absent one, and to point out that she had really built the temple; they had supplied only the labor; yet the fruits of it were theirs and the world’s.

“True,” said the wicked and faithless ones, “she had a great mind for building; but she made mistakes. She herself said so. We have learned by those mistakes and we know. She would have made the temple teachings too common altogether. Why, she actually began to turn into a teacher of virtues of which the world is weary, instead of building as at first. She had taught all she knew, but we can teach greater things, and better things; we can teach the world twenty different styles of building in metals, wood, stone, and marble; of ornaments and decorations enough to last for a century. Thus we honor her; thus we carry on her work and make it grow—although she made mistakes.”

“Indeed she did make mistakes,” said one, “and the greatest mistake of all was when she chose such faithless craftsmen for the temple work. Shame on you!”

“O faithful one!” said they. “Such faith deserves a great reward. To you we will entrust the duty of finding her. We will give you all you need for the voyage—a ship and provisions enough for a year!”

ADRIFT ON THE SEA

ADRIFT ON THE SEA