HOSPITALITY. I95 



was poured out, renewed itself in the homely pitcher, Baucis and 

 Philemon recognized heavenly guests and desired to offer to them 

 a sacrifice of their sacred guardian goose. But Jupiter and Mercury 

 forbade such costly offering, saying: "We are gods. Quit your 

 house and come with us to the top of yonder hill." And behold ! all 

 the other houses paid the penalty for their inhospitality by being 

 sunk in a rising lake. And then columns took the place of the 

 common posts of their own home, the thatch grew yellow and ap- 

 peared a golden roof, the floors became marble, the doors were en- 

 riched with carving and ornaments of gold, and Jupiter said, "What 

 favor have you to ask?" "We ask to be priests and guardians of 

 thy temple, and that one and the same day may take us from life." 

 In great age, on the steps of the temple Baucis saw Philemon 

 begin to put forth leaves and, Philemon changing in like manner, 

 a leafy crown grew over their heads. "Farewell, dear spouse," 

 they said together, and at the same moment the bark closed over 

 their mouths. The Tyanean shepherds still show the two^ trees, 

 an oak and a linden, standing side by side. Every house becomes 

 a golden roofed temple and every host and hostess are transformed, 

 even if their guests are neither gods nor angels, by true hospitality 

 into forms of perennial beauty. 



The spirit of poetry and beauty in hospitality has^ never been 

 more truly portrayed than by Df . Grace Denny : "The cause of 

 hospitality lies not in man's environment but in man himself, and 

 to find it in its purity we must search for it at the spring of his life, 

 in childhood." Here are two infants who have never met before. 

 They pause and regard each other :for some moments with grave, 

 neutral gaze. The one approaches, clasps chubby arms about the 

 other and with earnest effort carries him to a seat, the supremest 

 act of hospitality his small world affords. It is royal that, being 

 carried. But what says the act? The sublimest thing it has been 

 given man to say, "I care for you." In the world's early morning 

 man made his first great discovery, "I need you." There fol- 

 lowed shortly upon it his first great confession, "I care for you." 

 He has made no greater discovery, no greater confession since. He 

 can make no greater. "I need you," sounded Gethsemane's pain. 

 "I care for you," measured Calvary's glory. There's naught be- 

 yond. 



