no enviable position to entreat them to give up the
existence which must be dear to themselves,--to pass from the known to
the unknown life.

Vainly he tried to think of another way to accomplish his purpose. None
presented itself; so with glowing words he appealed to their nobler
selves, telling them all the great need of the travelers who were obliged
to pass that way. First he appealed to a fine birch which bordered the
forest.

"Not I, indeed!" answered the tree. "Do you think I would give my
life to light a few people through this woodland? I prefer to live a few
years longer."

He next addressed a walnut. She shook a few leaves from her branches,
and made a similar reply, preferring to live in her own form, and amid
her sister trees, to going she knew not whither.

"Are there none here," he continued, "who are willing to sacrifice their
lives for the needs of others?"

He looked around the forest in vain: all were silent, and he was about
to return to the people, when a large and stately oak spoke in clear and
ringing tones, saying, "I will give my body that the travelers may have
light."

"What! that grand old body of yours, that has been so many years
growing and maturing to its present stately and fair proportions!"
exclaimed several of the trees.

"You are not only rash, but foolish," remarked a small fir growing by
its side.

"Beside taking away the pride of our grand old forest," said a delicate
birch, that had always admired the oak.

"Just throwing your life away," broke in a tall and rather sickly pine.

"When will you be ready for me?" asked the oak of the leader, who
had stood admiring its beautiful proportions, and sorrowing within
himself that it must be so.

At the close of the next day the travelers came to the edge of the
forest, and tarried while their leader lit the fire at the roots of the
oak. Now the flames went upward and flashed in the darkness; for it was
evening, and not a star was visible. The flames rose upward and touched
not even the bark of another tree, but wound closely around the oak, as
though it knew its work and that the light of that tree only was needed
to pass the travelers through in safety. It touched their hearts to thus
witness that the life of the noble oak must be sacrificed, and they
offered, with one accord, a silent prayer that its life might be extended
in a higher form. Having passed through, they tarried at the end of
the forest until the flames die