The incident of the child, and the dream that followed, were, in Providence, sent for Markland's instruction. And they were not sent in vain. Ever after he set watch and ward at the doors of his heart. Evil guests, already in possession, were difficult to cast out; but, he invited the good to come in, opening the way by kind and noble acts, done in the face of opposing selfishness. Thus he went on, peopling the guest-chamber with sweet beatitudes, until angels instead of demons filled his house of life. VI. CAST DOWN, BUT NOT DESTROYED. "_TRIPPED_ again!" "Who?" "Brantley." "Poor fellow! He has a hard time of it. Is he all the way down?" "I presume so. When he begins to fall, he usually gets to the bottom of the ladder." It was true; Brantley had tripped again; and was down. He had been climbing bravely for three or four years, and was well up the ladder of prosperity, when in his eagerness to make two rundles of the ladder at a step instead of one, he missed his footing and fell to the bottom. My first knowledge of the fact came through the conversation just recorded. From all I could hear, Brantley's failure was a serious one. I knew him to be honorable and conscientious, and to have a great deal of sensitive pride. A few days afterwards, while passing the pleasant home where Brantley had been residing, I saw a bill up, giving notice that the house was for sale. A few days later I met him on the street. He did not see me. His eyes were on the pavement; he looked pale and careworn; he walked slowly, and was in deep thought. "He is of tougher material than most men, if the heart is not all taken out of him," I said in speaking of him to a mutual friend. "And he _is_ of tougher material," was answered, "that is, of finer material. Brantley is not one of your common men." "Still, there must be something wrong about him. Some defect of judgment. He is a good climber; but not sure-footed. Or, it may be that beyond a certain height his head grows dizzy." "If one gets too eager in any pursuit, he is almost sure to make false steps. I think Brantley became too eager. The steadily widening prospect as he went up, up, up, caused his pulses to move at a quicker rate." "Too eager, and less scrupulous," I suggested. "His honor is unstained," said the friend, with some warmth. "In the degree that a man grows eager in pursuit, he is apt to grow blind to things collateral, and less concerned about the principles involved." "In some cases that may be true, but is hardly probable in the case of Brantley. I do not believe that he has swerved from integrity in anything." "It is my belief," I answered, "that if he had not swerved, he would not have fallen. I may be wrong, but cannot help the impression." "Brantley is an honest man. I will maintain that in the face of every one," was replied.