r things she would have asked, but refrained when she
looked at them, feeling as if she did not yet understand; when one of
them broke forth suddenly in a louder voice, and said--

"The little sister knows only the little language and the beginning of
days. She has not learned the mysteries, and what Love is, and what life
is."

And another cried, "It is sweet to hear it again;" and they all gathered
round her with tender looks, and began to talk to each other, and tell
her, as men will tell of the games of their childhood, of things that
happened, which were half forgotten, in the old time.

After this the little Pilgrim went out again into the beautiful city,
feeling in her heart that everything was a mystery, and that the days
would never be long enough to learn all that had yet to be learned, but
knowing now that this, too, was the little language, and pleased with
the sweet thought of so much that was to come. For one had whispered to
her as she went out that the new tongue, and every explanation, as she
was ready for it, would come to her through one of those whom she loved
best, which is the usage of that country. And when the stranger has no
one there that is very dear, then it is an angel who teaches the greater
language, and this is what happens often to the children who are brought
up in that heavenly place. When she reached the street again, she was so
pleased with this thought that it went out of her mind to ask her way
to the great library, where she was to read the story of the historian's
journey through the land of darkness; indeed she forgot that land
altogether, and thought only of what was around her in the great city
which is beyond everything that eye has seen, or that ear has heard, or
that it has entered into the imagination to conceive. And now it seemed
to her that she was much more familiar with the looks of the people, and
could distinguish between those who belonged to the city, and those who
were visitors like herself; and also could tell which they were who had
entered into the mysteries of the kingdom, and which were, like herself,
only acquainted with the beginning of days. And it came to her mind--she
could not tell how--that it was best not to ask questions, but to wait
until the beloved one should come, who would teach her the first words.
For in the meantime she did not feel at all impatient or disturbed by
her want of knowledge, but laughed a little at herself to suppose that
she