walked bewildered. He found there were many sides to duty, that inclination is not perforce opposed to it, and he was still struggling for clearness when he turned the corner of the road and saw the hills. Their calm mocked his restlessness, and their splendour made a little thing of him. He stood and fed on them. Against the tender colour of the sky they held the darkness of the coming night, and soon their arms would open to let forth a dusky coverlet for the world. Proud of that burden, they lifted serene heads above it and waited for the stars, and after them the day, and then the night once more, and all the buffetings that time, and wind and rain might bring them. Their beauty and strength and patience were holy to Alexander, and at the sight of them he was ready for any sacrifice of his ambition, while his mind was confused with longing to express his gratitude and praise. This was more than the appeal of the æsthetic: through nature he was half consciously trying to find God, and his troubles left him and went like winged things to the heights. He walked on: he had a conviction that his way would be made clear. This was strange to a mind that only came to its conclusions after fierce wrestling; but he did not question it, and, rejoicing in this new submission and in the clang of his boots on the hard road, he marched on until the hills drew more closely round him and the lake narrowed to receive its feeding streams. Green rushes grew in the shallows and were stirred by the water's gentle surge, and among them, unseen, Alexander thought the reedy pipe was played. The music woke such echoes in his heart that his stern self-control tried to refuse it hearing; but the hour was victor and the hills were its allies. In the perfection of impulse they swept upwards from the valley, and it was amazing that the dark and stunted yews round the little church, the scattered houses and the grazing cattle should have been allowed to keep the places men had given them, for the curves of the mountain's mysterious sides had the fatality of a wave. But they had the placidity of their own strength: themselves the victims of Nature's ruthlessness, they had learnt ruthlessness from her, yet remained benign, and in the face of their serenity the man was willing to distrust the efforts of his own mind. But only for this moment was he the yielding child of these numerous and mighty parents, ready to let his future be what they decreed: and only because he was aware of his waiting will, did he find this happiness in obedience to the evening and the hills.