He said: “Oh my children, I direct your attention to the last part of this lesson, for the first part is very difficult to understand. Remember this—‘I would not trade my poverty for the palace of a prince. I would not trade it for a parson’s throne.’ Now, I can see some discontented faces among you, and perhaps you think: What idiocy is this? Perhaps you are a poor man with many children. Perhaps your horoscope forbids you to progress beyond a certain salary, so that no matter how you work— Oh I know, my children, I know how hard these things can seem. Such a man might cry out, seeing some Starbridge riding by in his motorcar, or feasting in a restaurant, or standing on the steps of the theater in his evening clothes, such a man might cry out, ‘Oh yes, gladly would I change my place with you. Gladly would I!’ Oh, my children, it is a natural mistake to think your own life is the hardest. But it is a mistake that Angkhdt will not permit us to make.” The parson turned the dead side of his face to his audience, and glared at them out of his unseeing eye. “This world is a cruel place. It is a place outside the reach of God’s mercy, a world we have all come to in our various ways. We have formed it with our sins. Man’s fate is a hard one, and you might be excused for thinking that a little comfort, a little freedom, a little money might make it softer. But consider, is life any better for the rich? Are their women more beautiful?

Do they find the joys of love more sweet? Do their children love them more? No, these questions of comfort, they are not the important ones.

“For remember, we Starbridges have a purpose. Now, even now, a great war is being waged for your safety, not sixty miles from our north gate, against heretics and tyrants. Tonight I have heard news of a great victory against the forces of our enemies.”

To make this announcement, he had presented the congregation with the living side of his face. But now he turned to look at them head on. “My children, our victory has come at bitter cost. Many thousands of our soldiers lie dead upon that field. And of those regiments of dead, how many of my family? I hear that my own brother and my own nephew also, my sister’s son, have purchased your continued safety with their blood. Now, warm in this beautiful church or safe in your homes, would you be willing to change your places with them? My children, these Starbridge officers are your bulwark and your shield. We would have no war or victory without them. The ones that still survive, do you envy them their comfort as they stretch out their blankets in the rain?