ect, however,
that for such purposes it is rather music than articulation that is
needful--that, with a hope of these finer results, the language must
rather be turned into music than logically extended.

The next morning he awoke at early dawn, hearing the birds at his
window. He rose and went out. The air was clear and fresh as a new-made
soul. Bars of mottled cloud were bent across the eastern quarter of the
sky, which lay like a great ethereal ocean ready for the launch of the
ship of glory that was now gliding towards its edge. Everything was
waiting to conduct him across the far horizon to the south, where lay
the stored-up wonder of his coming life. The lark sang of something
greater than he could tell; the wind got up, whispered at it, and lay
down to sleep again; the sun was at hand to bathe the world in the light
and gladness alone fit to typify the radiance of Robert's thoughts. The
clouds that formed the shore of the upper sea were already burning from
saffron into gold. A moment more and the first insupportable sting of
light would shoot from behind the edge of that low blue hill, and the
first day of his new life would be begun. He watched, and it came. The
well-spring of day, fresh and exuberant as if now first from the holy
will of the Father of Lights, gushed into the basin of the world, and
the world was more glad than tongue or pen can tell. The supernal light
alone, dawning upon the human heart, can exceed the marvel of such a
sunrise.

And shall life itself be less beautiful than one of its days? Do not
believe it, young brother. Men call the shadow, thrown upon the universe
where their own dusky souls come between it and the eternal sun, life,
and then mourn that it should be less bright than the hopes of their
childhood. Keep thou thy soul translucent, that thou mayest never see
its shadow; at least never abuse thyself with the philosophy which calls
that shadow life. Or, rather would I say, become thou pure in heart, and
thou shalt see God, whose vision alone is life.

Just as the sun rushed across the horizon he heard the tramp of a heavy
horse in the yard, passing from the stable to the cart that was to carry
his trunk to the turnpike road, three miles off, where the coach would
pass. Then Miss Lammie came and called him to breakfast, and there sat
the farmer in his Sunday suit of black, already busy. Robert was almost
too happy to eat; yet he had not swallowed two mouthfuls before the sun
r