The Story of the Innumerable Company | Page 8

Faith." They placed his name upon their battle-flags, and beneath
it they wrote these fearful words, "In this sign, conquer." And each
went forth to conquer his neighbor, and the wayfarer fled from the sight
of their banners as from a pestilence. But "Conquer, conquer," was no
word of his. He spoke not of victory over others; only of conquest of
oneself. He had said, "Resist not, but overcome evil with good." And
till all men ceased to resist and ceased to conquer, no one found himself
in the right way. Then some one said: "By words alone can no one truly
follow him. His words without his faith and love are like sounding
brass or tinkling cymbal. Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth
speaketh. When the heart is empty the speech of the mouth is idle as
the crackling of thorns beneath a pot."
And there appeared other bands from the number of those who had
passed to the right of the first great rock; and seeing the tumult and
confusion of the others, they said to themselves: "These are they who
followed not us. We have chosen the better part. Our leader bears the
only perfect Chart. All other charts are the invention of men. In the
right Chart there can be nothing false; in the others there can be nothing
true. Those who have not the true Chart can never go right, not even for
a moment. For even good deeds done in the paths of evil must partake
of the nature of sin. Straight is the way and narrow is the gate, but there
is no safety except ye walk therein."
So they went on, stumbling ever along the rocky road, never resting,

never murmuring. "For the way at best is a vale of tears," said they,
"and no one would have it otherwise. He found it thus in his time. He
was ever a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. More than all
others had he suffered. It was his glory to be despised and rejected of
men. For the greater the abasement the greater the exaltation in the land
beyond the river." So day by day they walked in the hardest part of the
road. But they spoke often together of a land of pure delight, of sweet
fields beyond the swelling floods, and of turf soft as velvet that rose
from the river's bank.
If perchance on the way they came to green pastures, they would hasten
on, lest they should be tempted to rest before the day of rest was come.
From sweet springs they turned aside, that theirs might be the greater
satisfaction when they came to the sweetest springs of all. They shut
their eyes to beauty and their ears to music, that the light and music of
the unknown shore might burst upon them as a sudden revelation. They
looked not at the stars, lest perchance these should declare a glory
which was reserved for other days. Dreary and harsh was the way they
trod. But in its very dreariness they found safety. They sought no
pleasure, they fought no battles, they wasted no time. In the pushing
aside of all temptation, the scorn of all beauty and idleness, they found
delight. Against the strength of granite rock they set the force of iron
will. Withal, at the bottom their hearts were light with the certainty of
coming joy. Even the multitude of conflicting paths gave them a
peculiar satisfaction; for whatever way they took was always the right
way.
But there were some among them who lost all heart. And they threw
their charts away and set forth in disorder through the forest and up the
mountain. Some of them came safely to the river, far in advance of the
bands they had left behind. But to most the way was strange, and
harder than of old. And as the journey wore on they began to hate the
forest and all its ways.
So they fared on, together or apart, in ever-deepening shadow. They
distrusted their neighbors. They despised the joyous bands who trooped
after their leaders with mouthing of verses and waving of flags. They

were stirred by the sound of no trumpet. They were deceived by no
illusion of sunshine or of mist. They said: "We know the forest; no one
knows it but ourselves. There is no future; there is no way; there is no
rest; there is no better country. The azure mists are shadows only,
hiding some dreary plain, if haply they hide anything at all. Evil is man;
evil are all things about him. Love and joy, hope and faith, all these are
but flickering lights that lure him to destruction. Vultures croak on the
rocks. The fountains flow with