Rest
awhile, and in a few days return to the land and the people I sent you
among, and come not back again to me till every farthing is wisely
spent."
The youth murmured within himself, but dared not reply. A few days
later he departed, to go over the same ground and do the work he had
neglected for the sake of a speedy return.
At the end of the second year another returned, looking sad and
dispirited.
"Thou hast soon returned, my son," said the father. "Is thy work
done in so brief a period?"
The youth hung his head, and answered slowly, "I was so weary, father.
I saw so much sorrow among those people, I longed to come home where
all is rest and peace. Surely, I was right in that, was I not?"
"Far from it, my child. If there was much sorrow there, that was the
very reason why you should have remained. Dost thou not remember
those lines I have so often quoted,--
"'Rest is not quitting the busy career:
Rest is the fitting of self to one's sphere'?"
"I remember them well, father," the youth replied; "but I never felt
their meaning until now."
"And if you sense it now, my son, what is your duty?"
"To return, I suppose."
"But how--cheerfully or otherwise?"
"Gladly and willingly," said the son, born from the old to the higher
self.
"I will provide you with more means," remarked his father, while a
feeling of joy thrilled his being at the thought that his son was going
to give his life to human needs.
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