n thousand men, and he found means to
compass his end. He betook himself to the marsh, and collected a few
little bubbles of stagnant water. Then he uttered over them the echoes
of lying words that they might become strong. He mixed up together
songs of praise with lying epitaphs, as many as he could find,
boiled them in tears shed by envy; put upon them rouge, which he had
scraped from faded cheeks, and from these he produced a maiden, in
form and appearance like the blind girl, the angel of completeness, as
men called her. The evil one's plot was successful. The world knew not
which was the true, and indeed how should the world know?

"To trust in thyself and God is best,
In his Holy will forever to rest."

So sung the blind girl in full faith. She had entrusted the four green
leaves from the Tree of the Sun to the winds, as letters of greeting
to her brothers, and she had full confidence that the leaves would
reach them. She fully believed that the jewel which outshines all
the glories of the world would yet be found, and that upon the
forehead of humanity it would glitter even in the castle of her
father. "Even in my father's house," she repeated. "Yes, the place
in which this jewel is to be found is earth, and I shall bring more
than the promise of it with me. I feel it glow and swell more and more
in my closed hand. Every grain of truth which the keen wind carried up
and whirled towards me I caught and treasured. I allowed it to be
penetrated with the fragrance of the beautiful, of which there is so
much in the world, even for the blind. I took the beatings of a
heart engaged in a good action, and added them to my treasure. All
that I can bring is but dust; still, it is a part of the jewel we
seek, and there is plenty, my hand is quite full of it."

She soon found herself again at home; carried thither in a
flight of thought, never having loosened her hold of the invisible
thread fastened to her father's house. As she stretched out her hand
to her father, the powers of evil dashed with the fury of a
hurricane over the Tree of the Sun; a blast of wind rushed through the
open doors, and into the sanctuary, where lay the Book of Truth.

"It will be blown to dust by the wind," said the father, as he
seized the open hand she held towards him.

"No," she replied, with quiet confidence, "it is indestructible. I
feel its beam warming my very soul."

Then her father observed that a dazzling flame gleamed from th