when the vast tide flows
landward, and fills the dry, solitary sand-pools with the leaping
brine. "Only wait," said the deep and tender voice, "only endure, only
believe; and a sweetness, a beauty, a truth beyond your utmost dreams
shall be revealed."

XXXIII

The Mystery of Suffering

Here is a story which has much occupied my thoughts lately. A man in
middle life, with a widowed sister and her children depending on him,
living by professional exertions, is suddenly attacked by a painful,
horrible, and fatal complaint. He goes through a terrible operation,
and then struggles back to his work again, with the utmost courage and
gallantry. Again the complaint returns, and the operation is repeated.
After this he returns again to his work, but at last, after enduring
untold agonies, he is forced to retire into an invalid life, after a
few months of which he dies in terrible suffering, and leaves his
sister and the children nearly penniless.

The man was a quiet, simple-minded person, fond of his work, fond of
his home, conventional and not remarkable except for the simply heroic
quality he displayed, smiling and joking up to the moment of the
administering of anaesthetics for his operations, and bearing his
sufferings with perfect patience and fortitude, never saying an
impatient word, grateful for the smallest services.

His sister, a simple, active woman, with much tender affection and
considerable shrewdness, finding that the fear of incurring needless
expense distressed her brother, devoted herself to the ghastly and
terrible task of nursing him through his illnesses. The children
behaved with the same straightforward affection and goodness. None of
the circle ever complained, ever said a word which would lead one to
suppose that they had any feeling of resentment or cowardice. They
simply received the blows of fate humbly, resignedly, and cheerfully,
and made the best of the situation.

Now, let us look this sad story in the face, and see if we can derive
any hope or comfort from it. In the first place, there was nothing in
the man's life which would lead one to suppose that he deserved or
needed this special chastening, this crucifixion of the body. He was
by instinct humble, laborious, unselfish, and good, all of which
qualities came out in his illness. Neither was there anything in the
life or character of the sister which seemed to need this stern and
severe trial. The household had lived