Page:The forerunners.djvu/140

138 Who shall rebuild the city?

The ardour of desire, the night of prison, and the suffering which brings counsel.

Will it endure?

Yes. Stones fall, but that which the soul builds in suffering, endureth for ever.

The trumpet sounds once more. The people are now eager to depart. The huge procession ranges itself in silence. At the head is the king, borne in a litter. The tribes follow, singing as they march, with the solemn joy of sacrifice. There is neither haste nor lagging. An infinite on the march. As they pass, the Chaldeans gaze at them with astonishment. Strange folk, whom no one can understand, whether in their dejection or their exultation!

We move among the nations, we move athwart the ages, by the unending roads of suffering. For ever and for ever. Eternally we are vanquished.… But cities fall, nations vanish, oppressors go down into shame. We move onward, through the eternities, towards our country, towards God.

Their God? Have we not conquered him? … Who can conquer the invisible? Men we can slay, but the God who lives in them we cannot slay. A nation can be controlled by force; its spirit, never.

For the third time the tucket sounds. The sun, breaking forth, shines on the procession of God's people, beginning their march athwart the ages.

Thus does a great artist exemplify the supreme liberty of the spirit. Others have made a frontal attack upon the follies and crimes of to-day. At grips with the force which wounds them, their bitter words of revolt bruise themselves against the obstacles they are endeavouring to break down. Here, the soul which has won to peace, sees passing before it the tragical flood of the present.