Gods they were not, but foul spirits of the air,
rulers of the darkness. Was there not glory and honour in fighting
with them, in daring their anger under the shield of faith, in
putting them to flight with the sword of truth? What better
adventure could a brave man ask than to go forth against them, and
wrestle with them, and conquer them?
"Look you, my friends," said Winfried, "how sweet and peaceful is
this convent to-night, on the eve of the nativity of the Prince of
Peace! It is a garden full of flowers in the heart of winter; a
nest among the branches of a great tree shaken by the winds; a
still haven on the edge of a tempestuous sea. And this is what
religion means for those who are chosen and called to quietude and
prayer and meditation.
"But out yonder in the wide forest, who knows what storms are
raving to-night in the hearts of men, though all the woods are
still? who knows what haunts of wrath and cruelty and fear are
closed to-night against the advent of the Prince of Peace? And
shall I tell you what religion means to those who are called and
chosen to dare and to fight, and to conquer the world for Christ?
It means to launch out into the deep.
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