the mansion- 第5部分

others；　

but　only　through　the　door　of　dreams；　and　was　walking　in　a　vision；



a　living　man　among　the　blessed　dead。　　Would　it　be　right　for　him

to　go　

with　them　into　the　heavenly　city？　　Would　it　not　be　a　deception；　

a　desecration；　a　deep　and　unforgivable　offense？　　The　strange；　

confusing　question　had　no　reason　in　it；　as　he　very　well　knew；　

for　if　he　was　dreaming；　then　it　was　all　a　dream；　but　if　his

companions　

were　real；　then　he　also　was　with　them　in　reality；　and　if　they　had

died　

then　he　must　have　died　too。　　Yet　he　could　not　rid　his　mind　of　

the　sense　that　there　was　a　difference　between　them　and　him；　

and　it　made　him　afraid　to　go　on。　　But；　as　he　paused　and　turned；　

the　Keeper　of　the　Gate　looked　straight　and　deep　into　his　eyes；　

and　beckoned　to　him。　　Then　he　knew　that　it　was　not　only　right　but



necessary　that　he　should　enter。



They　passed　from　street　to　street　among　fair　and　spacious

dwellings；　

set　in　amaranthine　gardens；　and　adorned　with　an　infinitely　varied

beauty　of

divine　simplicity。　　The　mansions　differed　in　size；　in　shape；　in

charm：　

each　one　seemed　to　have　its　own　personal　look　of　loveliness；　

yet　all　were　alike　in　fitness　to　their　place；　in　harmony　with　one

another；

in　the　addition　which　each　made　to　the　singular　and　tranquil

splendor　of

the　city。



As　the　little　company　came；　one　by　one；　to　the　mansions　which

were　

prepared　for　them；　and　their　Guide　beckoned　to　the　happy

inhabitant　

to　enter　in　and　take　possession；　there　was　a　soft　murmur　of　joy；　

half　wonder　and　half　recognition；　as　if　the　new　and　immortal

dwelling　

were　crowned　with　the　beauty　of　surprise；　lovelier　and　nobler

than　

all　the　dreams　of　it　had　been；　and　yet　also　as　if　it　were　touched

with　

the　beauty　of　the　familiar；　the　remembered；　the　long…loved。　　

One　after　another　the　travelers　were　led　to　their　own　mansions；　

and　went　in　gladly；　and　from　within；　through　the　open　doorways　

came　sweet　voices　of　welcome；　and　low　laughter；　and　song。



At　last　there　was　no　one　left　with　the　Guide　but　the　two　old

friends；

Doctor　McLean　and　John　Weightman。　　They　were　standing　in　front　of



one　of　the　largest　and　fairest　of　the　houses；　whose　garden　glowed

softly

with　radiant　flowers。　　The　Guide　laid　his　hand　upon　the　doctor's

shoulder。



〃This　is　for　you；〃　he　said。　　〃Go　in；　there　is　no　more　pain　here；　

no　more　death；　nor　sorrow；　nor　tears；　for　your　old　enemies　are　

all　conquered。　　But　all　the　good　that　you　have　done　for　others；　

all　the　help　that　you　have　given；　all　the　comfort　that　you　have

brought；

all　the　strength　and　love　that　you　have　bestowed　upon　the

suffering；　

are　here；　for　we　have　built　them　all　into　this　mansion　for　you。〃



The　good　man's　face　was　lighted　with　a　still　joy。　　He　clasped　his



old　friend's　hand　closely；　and　whispered：　〃How　wonderful　it　is！　　

Go　on；　you　will　come　to　your　mansion　next；　it　is　not　far　away；　

and　we　shall　see　each　other　again　soon；　very　soon。〃



So　he　went　through　the　garden；　and　into　the　music　within。　　

The　Keeper　of　the　Gate　turned　to　John　Weightman　with　level；

quiet；

searching　eyes。　　Then　he　asked；　gravely：



〃Where　do　you　wish　me　to　lead　you　now？〃



〃To　see　my　own　mansion；〃　answered　the　man；　with　half…concealed

excitement。　

〃Is　there　not　one　here　for　me？　　You　may　not　let　me　enter　it　yet；

perhaps；

for　I　must　confess　to　you　that　I　am　only〃



〃I　know；〃　said　the　Keeper　of　the　Gate〃I　know　it　all。　　

You　are　John　Weightman。〃



〃Yes；〃　said　the　man；　more　firmly　than　he　had　spoken　at　first；　

for　it　gratified　him　that　his　name　was　known。　　〃Yes；　I　am　John

Weightman；

Senior　Warden　of　St。　Petronius'　Church。　　I　wish　very　much　to　see　

my　mansion　here；　if　only　for　a　moment。　　I　believe　that　you　have

one　for　me。

Will　you　take　me　to　it？〃



The　Keeper　of　the　Gate　drew　a　little　book　from　the　breast　of　his

robe　

and　turned　over　the　pages。



〃Certainly；〃　he　said；　with　a　curious　look　at　the　man；　〃your　name

is　here；

and　you　shall　see　your　mansion　if　you　will　follow　me。〃



It　seemed　as　if　they　must　have　walked　miles　and　miles；　through

the　

vast　city；　passing　street　after　street　of　houses　larger　and

smaller；　

of　gardens　richer　and　poorer；　but　all　full　of　beauty　and　delight。　



They　came　into　a　kind　of　suburb；　where　there　were　many　small

cottages；　

with　plots　of　flowers；　very　lowly；　but　bright　and　fragrant。　　

Finally　they　reached　an　open　field；　bare　and　lonely…looking。　　

There　were　two　or　three　little　bushes　in　it；　without　flowers；　

and　the　grass　was　sparse　and　thin。　　In　the　center　of　the　field　

was　a　tiny　hut；　hardly　big　enough　for　a　shepherd's　shelter。　　

It　looked　as　if　it　had　been　built　of　discarded　things；　scraps　and



fragments　of　other　buildings；　put　together　with　care　and　pains；　

by　some　one　who　had　tried　to　make　the　most　of　cast…off　material。　



There　was　something　pitiful　and　shamefaced　about　the　hut。　　

It　shrank　and　drooped　and　faded　in　its　barren　field；　and　seemed

to　

cling　only　by　sufferance　to　the　edge　of　the　splendid　city。



〃This；〃　said　the　Keeper　of　the　Gate；　standing　still　and　speaking

with　

a　low；　distinct　voice〃this　is　your　mansion；　John　Weightman。〃



An　almost　intolerable　shock　of　grieved　wonder　and　indignation　

choked　the　man　for　a　moment　so　that　he　could　not　say　a　word。　　

Then　he　turned　his　face　away　from　the　poor　little　hut　

and　began　to　remonstrate　eagerly　with　his　companion。



〃Surely；　sir；〃　he　stammered；　〃you　must　be　in　error　about　this。　　

There　is　something　wrongsome　other　John　Weightmana　confusion　

of　namesthe　book　must　be　mistaken。〃



〃There　is　no　mistake；〃　said　the　Keeper　of　the　Gate；　very　calmly；　

〃here　is　your　name；　the　record　of　your　title　and　your　possessions



in　this　place。〃



〃But　how　could　such　a　house　be　prepared　for　me；〃　cried　the　man；　

with　a　resentful　tremor　in　his　voice〃for　me；　after　my　

long　and　faithful　service？　　Is　this　a　suitable　mansion　for　

one　so　well　known　and　devoted？　　Why　is　it　so　pitifully　small　and

mean？　　

Why　have　you　not　built　it　large　and　fair；　like　the　others？〃



〃That　is　all　the　material　you　sent　us。〃



〃What！〃



〃We　have　used　all　the　material　that　you　sent　us；〃　repeated　the　

Keeper　of　the　Gate。



〃Now　I　know　that　you　are　mistaken；〃　cried　the　man；　with　growing

earnestness；　〃for　all　my　life　long　I　have　been　doing　things　that　

must　have　supplied　you　with　material。　　Have　you　not　heard　that　

I　have　built　a　school…house；　the　wing　of　a　hospital；　twoyes；　

threesmall　churches；　and　the　greater　part　of　a　large　one；　

the　spire　of　St。　Petro〃



The　Keeper　of　the　Gate　lifted　his　hand。



〃Wait；〃　he　said；　〃we　know　all　these　things。　　They　were　not　ill

done。　　

But　they　were　all　marked　and　used　as　foundation　for　the　name　and

mansion　of

John　Weightman　in　the　world。　　Did　you　not　plan　them　for　that？〃



〃Yes；〃　answered　the　man；　confused　and　taken　aback；　〃I　confess

that　

I　thought　often　of　them　in　that　way。　　Perhaps　my　heart　was　

set　upon　that　too　much。　　But　there　are　other　thingsmy　endowment

for　

the　collegemy　steady　and　liberal　contributions　to　all　the　

established　charitiesmy　support　of　every　respectable〃



〃Wait；〃　said　the　Keeper　of　the　Gate　again。　　〃Were　not　all　these　

carefully　recorded　on　earth　where　they　would　add　to　your　credit？　



They　were　not　foolishly　done。　　Verily；　you　have　had　your　reward

for　them。　

Would　you　be　paid　twice？〃



〃No；〃　cried　the　man；　with　deepening　dismay；　〃I　dare　not　claim

that。　　

I　acknowledge　that　I　considered　my　own　interest　too　much。　　But

surely　

not　altogether。　　You　have　said　that　these　things　were　not

foolishly　done。　

They　accomplished　some　good　in　the　world。　　Does　not　that　count　

for　something？〃



〃Yes；〃　answered　he　Keeper　of　the　Gate；　〃it　counts　in　the

worldwhere　you

counted　it。　　But　it　does　not　belong　to　you　here。　　We　have　saved

and　used

everything　that　you　sent　us。　　This　is　the　mansion　prepared　for

you。〃



As　he　spoke；　his　look　grew　deeper　and　more　searching；　like　a

flame　of　fire。

John　Weightman　could　not　endure　it。　　It　seemed　to　strip　him　naked



and　wither　him。　　He　sank　to　the　ground　under　a　crushing　weight　of

shame；

covering　his　eyes　with　his　hands　and　cowering　face　downward　

upon　the　stones。　　Dimly　through　the　trouble　of　his　mind　he　felt

their

hardness　and　coldness。



〃Tell　me；　then；〃　he　cried；　brokenly；　〃since　my　life　has　been　so　

little　worth；　how　came　I　here　at　all？〃



〃Through　the　mercy　of　the　King〃the　answer　was　like　the　soft

tolling　of　

a　bell。



〃And　how　have　I　earned　it？〃　he　murmured。



〃It　is　never　earned；　it　is　only　given；〃　came　the　clear；　low

reply。



〃But　how　have　I　failed　so　wretchedly；〃　he　asked；　〃in　all　the

purpose　of　

my　life？　　What　could　I　have　done　better？　　What　is　it　that　counts

here？〃



〃Only　that　which　is　truly　given；〃　answered　the　bell…like　voice。　　

Only　that　good　which　is　done　for　the　love　of　doing　it。　　

Only　those　plans　in　which　the　welfare　of　others　is　the　master

thought。　

Only　those　labors　in　which　the　sacrifice　is　greater　than　the

reward。　　

Only　those　gifts　in　which　the　giver　forgets　himself。〃



The　man　lay　silent。　　A　great　weakness；　an　unspeakable　despondency

and

humiliation　were　upon　him。　　But　the　face　of　the　Keeper　of　the

Gate　was

infinitely　tender　as　he　bent　over　him。



〃Think　again；　John　Weightman。　　Has　there　been　nothing　like　that

in　

your　life？〃



〃Nothing；〃　he　sighed。　　〃If　there　ever　were　such　things；　it　must

have　been

long　agothey　were　all　crowded　outI　have　forgotten　them。〃



There　was　an　ineffable　smile　on　the　face　of　the　Keeper　of　the

Gate；　

and　his　hand　made　the　sign　of　the　cross　over　the　bowed　head　as　he



spoke　gently：



〃These　are　the　things　that　the　King　never　forgets；　and　because　

there　were　a　few　of　them　in　your　life；　you　have　a　little　place

here。〃



The　sense　of　coldness　and　hardness　under　John　Weightman's　hands　

gre