The great dumb mass of humanity needed serving--needed love. It passed
on blindly, wounding itself as it staggered against its barriers,
bruising its heart and soul in the darkness, and never learning its
lessons. Saviors in all ages had lifted the darkness a bit, and given
knowledge, and sometimes it had profited for a while till false prophets
arose to mislead.
It was a seething feverish mass, stamping and surging towards every
blatant voice which cried the false message to it, rousing it to anger,
and again misleading, until it often rose to rend its saviors instead of
those who had duped it so shamelessly.
All the tragic procession filed past, and he gave them peace and
knowledge. By and by they grew to a long thin stream, feverish and
agitated, seemingly all converging towards a point--pain and anxiety in
every quick movement, and suffering in every gesture. He looked with
still more and more compassion upon them, with a greater love in his
breast, but it did not calm them as before, and at last in desperation
he stretched out his hands in appealing pity for them, his whole being
aglow with the desire to help and pity and love, and he found that the
scene changed.
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