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their fellow…student Hermas from his lodging。
Their voices rang out cheerily through the cool air。 They
were full of that glad sense of life which the young feel when
they have risen early and come to rouse one who is still
sleeping。 There was a note of friendly triumph in their call；
as if they were exulting unconsciously in having begun the
adventure of the new day before their comrade。
But Hermas was not asleep。 He had been waking for hours；
and the walls of his narrow lodging had been a prison to his
heart。 A nameless sorrow and discontent had fallen upon him； and
he could find no escape from the heaviness of his own thoughts。
There is a sadness of youth into which the old cannot
enter。 It seems unreal and causeless。 But it is even more
bitter and burdensome than the sadness of age。 There is a
sting of resentment in it； a fever of angry surprise that the
world should so soon be a disappointment； and life so early
take on the look of a failure。 It has little reason in it；
perhaps； but it has all the more weariness and gloom； because
the man who is oppressed by it feels dimly that it is an
unnatural thing that he should be tired of living before he
has fairly begun to live。
Hermas had fallen into the very depths of this strange
self…pity。 He was out of tune with everything around him。 He
had been thinking； through the dead night； of all that he had
given up when he left the house of his father； the wealthy
pagan Demetrius； to join the company of the Christians。 Only
two years ago he had been one of the richest young men in
Antioch。 Now he was one of the poorest。 The worst of it was
that； though he had made the choice willingly and with a kind of
enthusiasm； he was already dissatisfied with it。
The new life was no happier than the old。 He was weary of
vigils and fasts； weary of studies and penances； weary of
prayers and sermons。 He felt like a slave in a treadmill。 He
knew that he must go on。 His honour； his conscience； his
sense of duty； bound him。 He could not go back to the old
careless pagan life again； for something had happened within
him which made a return impossible。 Doubtless he had found
the true religion； but he had found it only as a task and a
burden； its joy and peace had slipped away from him。
He felt disillusioned and robbed。 He sat beside his hard
couch； waiting without expectancy for the gray dawn of another
empty day； and hardly lifting his head at the shouts of his
friends。
〃Come down； Hermas； you sluggard！ Come down！ It is
Christmas morn。 Awake； and be glad with us！〃
〃I am coming；〃 he answered listlessly； 〃only have patience
a moment。 I have been awake since midnight； and waiting for
the day。〃
〃You hear him！〃 said his friends one to another。 〃How he
puts us all to shame！ He is more watchful； more eager； than
any of us。 Our master； John the Presbyter； does well to be
proud of him。 He is the best man in our class。〃
While they were talking the door opened and Hermas stepped
out。 He was a figure to be remarked in any companytall；
broad…shouldered； straight…hipped； with a head proudly poised
on the firm column of the neck； and short brown curls
clustering over the square forehead。 It was the perpetual
type of vigorous and intelligent young manhood； such as may be
found in every century among the throngs of ordinary men； as
if to show what the flower of the race should be。 But the
light in his eyes was clouded and uncertain； his smooth cheeks
were leaner than they should have been at twenty； and there
were downward lines about his mouth which spoke of desires
unsatisfied and ambitions repressed。 He joined his
companions with brief greetings；a nod to one； a word to
another；and they passed together down the steep street。
Overhead the mystery of daybreak was silently
transfiguring the sky。 The curtain of darkness had lifted
along the edge of the horizon。 The ragged crests of Mount
Silpius were outlined with pale saffron light。 In the central
vault of heaven a few large stars twinkled drowsily。 The
great city； still chiefly pagan； lay more than half…asleep。
But multitudes of the Christians； dressed in white and carrying
lighted torches in their hands； were hurrying toward the
Basilica of Constantine to keep the new holy…day of the
church； the festival of the birthday of their Master。
The vast； bare building was soon crowded； and the younger
converts； who were not yet permitted to stand among the
baptised； found it difficult to come to their appointed place
between the first two pillars of the house； just within the
threshold。 There was some good…humoured pressing and jostling
about the door； but the candidates pushed steadily forward。
〃By your leave； friends； our station is beyond you。 Will
you let us pass？ Many thanks。〃
A touch here； a courteous nod there； a little patience； a
little persistence； and at last they stood in their place。
Hermas was taller than his companions； he could look easily
over their heads and survey the sea of people stretching away
through the columns； under the shadows of the high roof； as
the tide spreads on a calm day into the pillared cavern of
Staffa； quiet as if the ocean hardly dared to breathe。 The
light of many flambeaux fell； in flickering； uncertain rays；
over the assembly。 At the end of the vista there was a circle
of clearer； steadier radiance。 Hermas could see the bishop in
his great chair； surrounded by the presbyters； the lofty desks
on either side for the readers of the Scripture； the
communion…table and the table of offerings in the middle of
the church。
The call to prayer sounded down the long aisle。 Thousands
of hands were joyously lifted in the air； as if the sea had
blossomed into waving lilies； and the 〃Amen〃 was like the
murmur of countless ripples in an echoing place。
Then the singing began； led by the choir of a hundred
trained voices which the Bishop Paul had founded in Antioch。
Timidly； at first； the music felt its way； as the people
joined with a broken and uncertain cadence： the mingling of
many little waves not yet gathered into rhythm and harmony。
Soon the longer； stronger billows of song rolled in； sweeping
from side to side as the men and the women answered in the
clear antiphony。
Hermas had often been carried on those
Tides of music's golden sea
Selling toward eternity。
But to…day his heart was a rock that stood motionless。 The
flood passed by and left him unmoved。
Looking out from his place at the foot of the pillar； he
saw a man standing far off in the lofty bema。 Short and
slender； wasted by sickness； gray before his time； with pale
cheeks and wrinkled brow； he seemed at first like a person of
no significancea reed shaken in the wind。 But there was a
look in his deep…set； poignant eyes； as he gathered all the
glances of the multitude to himself； that belied his mean
appearance and prophesied power。 Hermas knew very well who it
was： the man who had drawn him from his father's house； the
teacher who was instructing him as a son in the Christian faith；
the guide and trainer of his soulJohn of Antioch； whose fame
filled the city and began t