"Are you sure of that? I am not. Are you sure, first of all, it did not make you proud? Are you sure it has not made you work beyond your strength--I don't mean your strength of arm, for clearly that is all that could be wished, but of your chest, your lungs? Is there not some danger of your leaving someone who is dependent on you too soon unprovided for? Is there not some danger of your having worked as if God were a hard master?--of your having worked fiercely, indignantly, as if he wronged you by not caring for you, not understanding you?" He returned me no answer, but hammered momently on his anvil. Whether he felt what I meant, or was offended at my remark, I could not then tell. I thought it best to conclude the interview with business. "I have a delicate little job that wants nice handling, and I fancy you are just the man to do it to my mind," I said. "What is it, sir?" he asked, in a friendly manner enough. "If you will excuse me, I would rather show it to you than talk about it," I returned. "As you please, sir. When do you want me?" "The first hour you can come." "To-morrow morning?" "If you feel inclined." "For that matter, I'd rather go to bed." "Come to me instead: it's light work." "I will, sir--at ten o'clock." "If you please." And so it was arranged. CHAPTER IV. THE LIFE-BOAT. The next day rose glorious. Indeed, early as the sun rose, I saw him rise--saw him, from the down above the house, over the land to the east and north, ascend triumphant into his own light, which had prepared the way for him; while the clouds that hung over the sea glowed out with a faint flush, as anticipating the hour when the west should clasp the declining glory in a richer though less dazzling splendour, and shine out the bride of the bridegroom east, which behold each other from afar across the intervening world, and never mingle but in the sight of the eyes. The clear pure light of the morning made me long for the truth in my heart, which alone could make me pure and clear as the morning, tune me up to the concert-pitch of the nature around me. And the wind that blew from the sunrise made me hope in the God who had first breathed into my nostrils the breath of life, that he would at length so fill me with his breath, his wind, his spirit, that I should think only his thoughts and live his life, finding therein my own life, only glorified infinitely.