But he did
not love them the less for that.
Were these pursuits a comfort to him? Did they help him to forget that
there was a time when he, too, was burning with ambition to distinguish
himself, and be one of the marked men of the age?
Who could say?
CHAPTER VI.
THE TRAVELLER AND THE TEMPLE OF KNOWLEDGE.
COUNTLESS ages ago a Traveller, much worn with journeying, climbed up
the last bit of rough road which led to the summit of a high mountain.
There was a temple on that mountain. And the Traveller had vowed that
he would reach it before death prevented him. He knew the journey was
long, and the road rough. He knew that the mountain was the most
difficult of ascent of that mountain chain, called "The Ideals." But
he had a strongly-hoping heart and a sure foot. He lost all sense of
time, but he never lost the feeling of hope.
"Even if I faint by the way-side," he said to himself, "and am not
able to reach the summit, still it is something to be on the road
which leads to the High Ideals."
That was how he comforted himself when he was weary. He never lost
more hope than that; and surely that was little enough.
And now he had reached the temple.
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