same way with the joy and sorrow of Nature; for every animal that suffers there are two that are glad, for every tree that dies there are two in the full vigour of the joy of life. And that joy and that life is my constant study. I soak myself in it, and shall so do until I am utterly impregnated with it. And when that day comes, when there is no tiny or obscure fibre in my being that does not completely realise it, then, with a flash of revelation, so I take it, I shall 'grasp the scheme of things entire.' Whether by life or by death, I shall truly realise that I and that moth flitting by, and the odours of the garden and the river are indivisibly one, just an expression of the spirit of life, which is God." He paused a moment. "There were two other questions you asked me," he said. "What have I got to show for the years I have spent here? I shrug my shoulders at that; it is I who am being shown. The second concerns my personal appearance, for you say I look younger. That is probably quite true and quite inevitable, for the contemplation of the eternal youth of the world I suppose must make one younger, body and soul alike. And that is all, I think." Evelyn was listening with extreme attention; he did not look in the least uninterested. "My word, you've got a perfectly sober plan at the bottom of it all," he said, "and I thought half of it was moonshine and the other half imagination. There is one more question--two more. What if the whole of the suffering and the cruelty and the death in Nature is made clear to you in a flash, if it is that which will come to make you grasp the scheme of things entire?" Merivale smiled still, rocking forward in his chair with his hands clasped round his knee. "That is possible," he said, "and I recognise that. But I don't think I am frightened at it If it is to be so, it is to be so. Though I suppose one won't live after it. Well?" "And the second question. You think, then, it is our duty to seek happiness and joy and forget the sorrow of the world?" "I think it is so for me," said he, "though I do think that there are many people, most, I suppose, that realise themselves through sorrow and suffering. I can only say that I believe I am not one of those. The way does not lie for me there." Evelyn got up, and stood leaning on the balustrade of the verandah. This was beginning to touch him more closely now; his own threads were beginning to interweave in the scheme Merivale drew. "And for me," he said. "What is your diagnosis of me? Am I one of those who will find themselves through sorrow or through joy?" Merivale turned to him with almost the same eagerness in his face as Evelyn himself showed.