h, was only hidden from our eyes by a thin veil,
behind which it still goes up with unbroken continuity, rising into
fairest beauty in the presence of God.

But there are abandoned life-buildings whose story tells only of shame
and failure. Many persons begin to follow Christ, and after a little
time turn away from their profession and leave only a pretentious
beginning to stand as a ruin to be laughed at by the world and to
dishonor the Master's name.

Sometimes it is discouragement that leads men to give up the work to
which they have put their hand. In one of his poems, Wordsworth tells
a pathetic story of a straggling heap of unhewn stones, and the
beginning of a sheepfold which was never finished. With his wife and
only son, old Michael, a Highland shepherd, dwelt for many years in
peace. But trouble came which made it necessary that the son should go
away to do for himself for a while. For a time good reports came from
him, and the old shepherd would go out when he had leisure and would
work on the sheepfold which he was building. By and by, however, sad
news came from Luke. In the great dissolute city he had given himself
to evil courses. Shame fell on him and he was driven to seek a
hiding-place beyond the seas. The sad tidings broke the old father's
heart. He went about as before, caring for his sheep. To the hollow
dell, too, he would repair from time to time, meaning to build at the
unfinished fold. But the neighbors in their pity noticed that he did
little work in those sad days.

"'Tis believed by all
That many and many a day he thither went
And never lifted up a single stone.
There by the sheepfold sometimes was he seen
Sitting alone, with that his faithful dog,
Then old, beside him, lying at his feet.
The length of full seven years from time to time
He at the building of his sheepfold wrought,
And left the work unfinished when he died."

Years after the shepherd was gone the remains of the unfinished fold
were still there, a sad memorial of one who began to build but did not
finish. Sorrow broke his heart and his hand slacked.

Too often noble life-buildings are abandoned in the time of sorrow, and
the hands that were quick and skilful before grief came, hang down and
do nothing more on the temple-wall. Instead, however, of giving up our
work and faltering in our diligence, we should be inspired by sorrow to
yet greater earnestness in all duty and greater fi