The First Christmas Tree | Page 3

fain taste more
of it, for it likes me much. But how the two lives fit together, or what
need there is of armour for a clerk in holy orders, I can never see. Tell
me the meaning, for if there is a man in all the world that knows it, I

am sure it is none other than thou."
So Winfried took the book and closed it, clasping the boy's hand with
his own.
"Let us first dismiss the others to their vespers," said he, "lest they
should be weary."
A sign from the abbess; a chanted benediction; a murmuring of sweet
voices and a soft rustling of many feet over the rushes on the floor; the
gentle tide of noise flowed out through the doors and ebbed away down
the corridors; the three at the head of the table were left alone in the
darkening room.
Then Winfried began to translate the parable of the soldier into the
realities of life.
At every turn he knew how to flash a new light into the picture out of
his own experience. He spoke of the combat with self, and of the
wrestling with dark spirits in solitude. He spoke of the demons that
men had worshipped for centuries in the wilderness, and whose malice
they invoked against the stranger who ventured into the gloomy forest.
Gods, they called them, and told strange tales of their dwelling among
the impenetrable branches of the oldest trees and in the caverns of the
shaggy hills; of their riding on the wind-horses and hurling spears of
lightning against their foes. Gods they were not, but foul spirits of the
air, rulers of the darkness. Was there not glory and honour in fighting
with them, in daring their anger under the shield of faith, in putting
them to flight with the sword of truth? What better adventure could a
brave man ask than to go forth against them, and wrestle with them,
and conquer them?
"Look you, my friends," said Winfried, "how sweet and peaceful is this
convent to-night, on the eve of the nativity of the Prince of Peace! It is
a garden full of flowers in the heart of winter; a nest among the
branches of a great tree shaken by the winds; a still haven on the edge
of a tempestuous sea. And this is what religion means for those who are
chosen and called to quietude and prayer and meditation.

"But out yonder in the wide forest, who knows what storms are raving
to-night in the hearts of men, though all the woods are still? who knows
what haunts of wrath and cruelty and fear are closed to-night against
the advent of the Prince of Peace? And shall I tell you what religion
means to those who are called and chosen to dare and to fight, and to
conquer the world for Christ? It means to launch out into the deep. It
means to go against the strongholds of the adversary. It means to
struggle to win an entrance for their Master everywhere. What helmet
is strong enough for this strife save the helmet of salvation? What
breastplate can guard a man against these fiery darts but the breastplate
of righteousness? What shoes can stand the wear of these journeys but
the preparation of the gospel of peace?"
"Shoes?" he cried again, and laughed as if a sudden thought had struck
him. He thrust out his foot, covered with a heavy cowhide boot, laced
high about his leg with thongs of skin.
"See here,--how a fighting man of the cross is shod! I have seen the
boots of the Bishop of Tours,--white kid, broidered with silk; a day in
the bogs would tear them to shreds. I have seen the sandals that the
monks use on the highroads,--yes, and worn them; ten pair of them
have I worn out and thrown away in a single journey. Now I shoe my
feet with the toughest hides, hard as iron; no rock can cut them, no
branches can tear them. Yet more than one pair of these have I outworn,
and many more shall I outwear ere my journeys are ended. And I think,
if God is gracious to me, that I shall die wearing them. Better so than in
a soft bed with silken coverings. The boots of a warrior, a hunter, a
woodsman,--these are my preparation of the gospel of peace."
"Come, Gregor," he said, laying his brown hand on the youth's shoulder,
"come, wear the forester's boots with me. This is the life to which we
are called. Be strong in the Lord, a hunter of the demons, a subduer of
the wilderness, a woodsman of the faith. Come!"
The boy's eyes sparkled. He turned to his grandmother. She shook her