ps has for
him its own evil legend. He thinks he sees a little heap of bleaching
bones just under where that eagle hangs and wheels and screams. Not one
traveller through these perilous parts in a thousand gets down those
cruel rocks unhurt; and many travellers have been irrecoverably lost
among those deadly rocks, and have never received Christian burial. All
the shepherds' cottages and all the hostel supper-tables for many miles
round are full of terrible stories of the Hill Difficulty and the Descent
Dangerous. And thus it is that this shepherd boy looks up with such fear
at those sharp peaks and shining precipices, and lifts his fresh and well-
favoured countenance to heaven and sings again: "He that is down, needs
fear no fall." Down in his own esteem, that is. For this is a song of
the heart rather than of the highway. Down--safe, that is, from the
steep and slippery places of self-estimation, self-exaltation,
self-satisfaction. Down--so as to be delivered from all ambition and
emulation and envy. Down, and safe, thank God, from all pride, all high-
mindedness, and all stout-heartedness. Down from the hard and cruel
hills, and buried deep out of sight among those meadows where that herb
grows which is called Heart's-ease. Down, where the green pastures grow
and the quiet waters flow. No, indeed; he that is down into this sweet
bottom needs fear no fall. For there is nowhere here for a man to fall
from. And, even if he did fall, he would only fall upon a
fragrance-breathing bed of lilies. The very herbs and flowers here would
conspire to hold him up. Many a day, as He grew up, the carpenter's son
sat in that same valley and sang that same song to His own humble and
happy heart. He loved much to be here. He loved also to walk these
meadows, for He found the air was pleasant. Methinks, He often said with
Mercy, I am as well in this valley as I have been anywhere else in My
journey. The place, methinks, suits with My spirit. I love to be in
such places where there is no rattling with coaches nor rumbling with
wheels. Methinks, also, here one may without much molestation be
thinking what he is, whence he came, and to what his King has called him.

He that is low, no pride.

Low in his own eyes, that is. For pride goeth before destruction, and a
haughty spirit before a fall. Yes; but he who is low enough already--none
of the sure destructions that pride always works shall ever come near to
hi