They will
never complain of being _desillusionnes_, for they have
never been illuded. They look up each to the other still, because
they were right in looking up each to the other from the first.
Each was, and therefore each is and will be, real.
".... The man is honest." "Therefore he will be, Timon."
It was a lovely morning in summer. The sun was but a little way
above the horizon, and the dew-drops seemed to have come
scattering from him as he shook his locks when he rose. The
foolish larks were up, of course, for they fancied, come what
might of winter and rough weather, the universe founded in
eternal joy, and themselves endowed with the best of all rights
to be glad, for there was the gladness inside, and struggling to
get outside of them. And out it was coming in a divine profusion!
How many baskets would not have been wanted to gather up the
lordly waste of those scattered songs! in all the trees, in all
the flowers, in every grass-blade, and every weed, the sun was
warming and coaxing and soothing life into higher life. And in
those two on the path through the fields from Testbridge, the
same sun, light from the father of lights, was nourishing highest
life of all--that for the sake of which the Lord came, that he
might set it growing in hearts of whose existence it was the very
root.
Joseph and Mary were taking their walk together before the day's
work should begin.
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