“I have never heard of him since. I was left rich by the death of my father, and all that money could do was done, but I heard nothing of either wife or child. Is it not a sad story, Maurice?” “Yes, very sad! You must have suffered terribly.” “I did suffer terribly; but I tell you this, dear lad, to show you how a man can force himself to be cheerful, even when he thinks life has no further joys for him. Look at me! When my wife left me, I thought that the sun of my life had set forever. I looked forward to years of misery; and probably my existence would have been miserable, had I not, with the aid of God, resisted the evil one. I did resist him, by accustoming myself to take an interest in all things; and, by schooling myself into patience, I found life, if not blissful, at least endurable. I now love my work among my parishioners, I enjoy my Greek studies, I interest myself in my garden, and am thus able to live a comparatively happy life. Had I given way weakly to my misery, I would have been an unhappy man all my life, and have done no good in my generation; but I fought against the evil spirit, with the aid of God I conquered him, and now can look back with thankfulness to the calamity which tried and chastened my soul.” “And you are happy now?” “Yes,” said the Rector firmly. “I am as happy as any mortal can hope to be. ‘Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward,’ says Job; but if we did not fight against these troubles they would overwhelm us. So, my dear lad, do as I have done, fight against the evil spirit, and, with God’s grace, you will be victorious.” “I thank you for your advice, sir, and I will try and follow it.” “My story is but a dull one, I am afraid,” resumed the Rector, after a pause,—“dull and prosaic, with no romance to render it captivating; but I only told it to show to you what a man can do if he fights against his troubles, and does not yield weakly at the first attack of the enemy. You have no unhappy love, you have no regrets; therefore, my dear lad, show yourself to be a man, and do not thus weakly yield to a phantom of your own creation. Try to be interested in life, fall in love and marry if you can, and I promise you all will yet be well with you. Your troubles are but dreams of a disordered brain, which can be banished by an effort of will; so rouse yourself, Maurice, conquer your weak spirit, and with God’s help you will be a happy man.” “Thank you, sir,” said Maurice, grasping the Rector’s hand; “I will do what you say. I have been weak, but I will be so no longer. I will take up the duties of life, and do my best to perform them well. Your sermon, your story, has done me good, Mr. Carriston; and I feel that I would be indeed a coward to flinch from the fray in which you have so bravely fought and conquered.”