at I saw the preacher again. He
stood on the top of a steep monticle, used by pilots as a look-out for
vessels approaching that coast, a dangerous one, abounding in rocks and
quicksands. There he stood on the monticle, preaching to weather-worn
fishermen and mariners gathered below upon the sand. "Who is he?" said I
to an old fisherman, who stood beside me with a book of hymns in his
hand; but the old man put his hand to his lips, and that was the only
answer I received. Not a sound was heard but the voice of the preacher
and the roaring of the waves; but the voice was heard loud above the
roaring of the sea, for the preacher now spoke with power, and his voice
was not that of one who hesitates. There he stood--no longer a young
man, for his black locks were become gray, even like my own; but there
was the intelligent face, and the calm, serious look which had struck me
of yore. There stood the preacher, one of those men--and, thank God,
their number is not few--who, animated by the spirit of Christ, amidst
much poverty, and, alas! much contempt, persist in carrying the light of
the Gospel amidst the dark parishes of what, but for their
instrumentality, would scarcely be Christian England. I would have
waited till he had concluded, in order that I might speak to him and
endeavour to bring back the ancient scene to his recollection, but
suddenly a man came hurrying towards the monticle, mounted on a speedy
horse, and holding by the bridle one yet more speedy, and he whispered to
me: "Why loiterest thou here?--knowest thou not all that is to be done
before midnight?" and he flung me the bridle; and I mounted on the horse
of great speed, and I followed the other, who had already galloped off.
And as I departed, I waved my hand to him on the monticle, and I shouted,
"Farewell, brother! the seed came up at last, after a long period!" and
then I gave the speedy horse his way, and leaning over the shoulder of
the galloping horse, I said: "Would that my life had been like his--even
like that man's!"

I now wandered along the heath, till I came to a place where, beside a
thick furze, sat a man, his eyes fixed intently on the red ball of the
setting sun.

"That's not you, Jasper?"

"Indeed, brother!"

"I've not seen you for years."

"How should you, brother?'

"What brings you here?"

"The fight, brother."

"Where are the tents?"

"On the old spot, brother."

"Any news since we parted?"

"Two deaths, brothe