The tree heard the great wind roaring among its brethren, and it was aware of the wee birds cowering among its boughs; and it remembered, as in a flash, the weary life of humanity, with hopes to befool it and despair for its reward: and it rustled its myriad leaves whispering mournfully, "Let me, O Master, remain as I am!" And the Lord of the Forest was content, and passed on. THE MAN WHO HAD SEEN. ON the third day he recovered from the "trance" and regained consciousness, and took up the burden of his life as before. But the revelation which had been vouchsafed to him had influenced him profoundly. He had now a new estimate of values and results. The centre of his mental life was permanently shifted, and a new bias had been given to his thoughts. He went to the King, where he sat sunning himself in his palace. "You are very rich," said the man to the King. "God has so willed it, and I am grateful," said the King. "You hope one day to see God face to face?" "I _do_ hope so, fervently!" said the King, with unction. "And if He questions you of your wealth you will express your gratitude and bow to Him, and God will accept the compliment and be content?" The King was silent. "You think He will ask no questions?" said the man. "He will not trouble to refer to His starving children, with whom you might reasonably have shared your superfluities; to the sick whom you might have succoured; or to the sorrowing whom you might have cheered? You had wealth, and were grateful for it: and you used it on yourself. And presently, when you are dead?" asked the man, more quietly. "If you sit beside the beggar who perished at your gates, what will you say to him if he should refer to matters such as these?" "Sit beside a beggar!" cried the King, in high disdain. "You forget it will be in heaven," said the man, gently. "In heaven, of course, I shall be a king as I am here!" "Oh, will you?" said the man: "I was not aware of that. I saw kings there performing the lowliest of services. And I saw many in hell: the majority of them were there." And therewith the man sighed heavily, as he mused. The King turned his back on him: and they thrust him out at the gates. * * * * * The Archbishop was reading a novel by the fire. "Your work, then, is ended, is it?" asked the man. "Oh no! not by any means ended, I hope. I attended a drawing-room meeting at Lady Clack's yesterday," said the Archbishop, smiling benignantly on his questioner, "and this morning I have sanctioned proceedings against a vicar who for some time has been wavering heretically in his opinions. I think we can effectually silence him at last. Oh yes, I am extremely busy, I can assure you." "There are no souls, then, to be saved?" said the man. "No lives to be reformed: and no mourners to be comforted? This side of your duties you have completed and closed?"