II

The Sky

THERE was a time when in all the world there were only two people, and those two were the Morning Boy and the Night Girl. The Morning Boy lived on that half of the world that lay towards the sun, and as soon as the world had turned round from the light and the sunset, he fell sound asleep, long before a single bat awoke, or the earliest evening primrose thought of opening its eye. At morning he used always to wake up, and go playing and rejoicing till the sun was setting again, when he instantly fell asleep.

On the other side of the world there lived the Night Girl, and so it was, that just when the Morning Boy fell asleep she awoke, and when he awoke she fell asleep; so she knew the darkness, and the moon, and the stars,

and the half colours that showed in the night of the day she knew nothing.

But a time came when this difference between the Night Girl and the Morning Boy was to end, and they were to live their lives together. So they met upon the very edge of the very middle of the world, in the Twilight, and the Morning Boy got into conversation with the Night Girl, and the Night Girl into conversation with the Morning Boy. And the Night Girl told the Morning Boy of the darkness, and the moon, and the stars, and the half colours; and the Morning Boy told the Night Girl of the sun, and the great bright blue sky, with the glory of the daylight in it, and the full-shown colours, nor did he forget the rainbow. But the Morning Boy did not understand what the Night Girl said, and the Night Girl did not understand what the Morning Boy said. So they joined their hands, and lived a night and a day together, and then they under

stood.

No, I am sure this is a dream; there never was a Morning Boy and there never was a Night Girl. But if there had been, what would the Night Girl have felt when she saw the morning and the noontide sky for the first time? And what would the Morning Boy have thought when the darkness, which covered the earth at his feet, uncovered the stars? This is not a part of a catechism, and I do not expect you to answer a question that I cannot answer myself. Neither are these Lectures meant for lessons to tell us things such as are put into our lesson-books, about geography, astronomy, and so on; but I can tell you what a very wonderful man thought he would feel, if an angel were to catch him up, and walk him all round the skies-only in order to do that, I must just remind you of what you may have learnt out of lesson-books. You have, perhaps, learnt that the skies are full of suns and worlds, some of them finished and some of them not, and that where there seems to be a band of white powder

stretching across the skies on a clear night, it is all suns lying close together, but so far off that they appear like shining dust. The wonderful man I spoke of, whose name was Jean Paul Richter, makes an angel catch a man up from the earth. and walk him through the skies all among the great suns and worlds turning and shining, and never coming to an end; as if you were to be taken through the rooms of a king's palace that never came to an end. You may think the man who went with the angel all over heaven saw a beautiful sight, and so he did, but it was more than he could bear, and at last he began to weep, and said: 'Angel, angel! let me lie down and die, for insufferable is the glory of God's house! You are too young to feel like this, and I do not wish that you should, but you cannot help feeling that the sky is very awful, and that great heavenly secrets lie beyond the blue round by day and the clear stars by night.

You see we have just used a fresh word -Heaven-in speaking of the sky, and it means something fresh, though you cannot separate it in your minds from the word Sky. Let us consider this.

You know very well that we walk on the earth, and dig it, and build houses on it, and furrow it with ploughs, and burrow into it for coals, and salt, and jewels; and lastly, we lay each others' dead bodies into it. Sometimes, when there is an earthquake, or when a burning mountain buries the people under it in showers of fire, we feel that there is Something too powerful for us to do as we like with, but still the earth is our friend and our servant. Then, again, we ride in ships far out upon the sea, and get from one country to another by travelling across the water that lies between them. Sometimes the storms, that break the ships to pieces, or drive them upon the rocks where they crack like nutshells, make us feel, again that there is Something stronger than