Then came the awakening to the sounds of the monastery bells, and in
due time the small English congregation assembled, and one at least
was trying to force an attention that had freely wandered ever
before.
The preacher was the chance visitor, an elderly clergyman with
silvery hair. He spoke extempore from Job xxviii.
Where shall wisdom be found?
And where is the place of understanding?
Man knoweth not the price thereof;
Neither is it found in the land of the living.
The depth saith, "It is not in me:"
And the sea saith, "It is not with me."
It cannot be gotten for gold.
Neither shall silver be weighed for the price thereof.
What he said was unlike any sermon the young people had heard before.
It began with a description of the alchemist's labours, seeking for
ever for the one great arcanum, falling by the way upon numerous
precious discoveries, yet never finding the one secret which would
have rendered all common things capable of being made of priceless
value. He drew this quest into a parable of man's search for the One
Great Good, the wisdom that is the one thing necessary to give
weight, worth, and value to the life which, without it, is vanity of
vanities.
Pages:
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481