Cathcart. "It sounds rather profane to me."
"I mean a picture in words, where more is meant than meets the ear."
"But why call it a parable?"
"Because it is one."
"Why not speak in plain words then?"
"Because a good parable is plainer than the plainest words. You remember
what Tennyson says--that
'truth embodied in a tale
Shall enter in at lowly doors'?"
"Goethe," said the curate, "has a little parable about poems, which is
equally true about parables--
'Poems are painted window-panes.
If one looks from the square into the church,
Dusk and dimness are his gains--
Sir Philistine is left in the lurch.
The sight, so seen, may well enrage him,
Nor any words henceforth assuage him.
But come just inside what conceals;
Cross the holy threshold quite--
All at once,'tis rainbow-bright;
Device and story flash to light;
A gracious splendour truth reveals.
This, to God's children, is full measure;
It edifies and gives them pleasure.'"
"I can't follow that," said Adela.
"I will write it out for you," said Harry; "and then you will be able
to follow it perfectly."
"Thank you very much. Now for your parable."
"It is called _The Lost Church_; and I assure you it is full of
meaning."
"I hope I shall be able to find it out."
"You will find the more the longer you think about it.
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