I see a door, a multitude near by,

In creed and quarrel, sure disciples all!

Gladly they would, they say, enter the hall,

But cannot, the stone threshold is so high….

But see, one comes; he listens to the voice;

Careful he wipes his weary dusty feet!

The voice hath spoken – to him is left no choice;

He hurries to obey – that only is meet.

Low sinks the threshold, levelled with the ground;

The man leaps in – to liberty he’s bound.

The rest go talking, walking, picking round.

George MacDonald (1824-1905), The Diary of an Old Soul, 16th and 18th April.