ite crest; the upstanding green
water touched with sunlight and shadow, and changing tints of amber and
olive, down which the white foam came curling and rushing--sweeping in
knots of seaweed, and leaving all the pebbles with wet faces. Mr.
Linden let her look without the interruption of a word; but he
presently put his arm round her, and drew her a little into shelter
from the strong breeze. It was a while before she moved from her steady
gaze at the water; then she looked up, the joy of her face breaking
into a smile.

"Endecott, will you show me anything more grand than this?"

"You shall tell me when you have seen the uprising mists of Niagara,"
he answered, smiling, "or the ravines between snowcaps 'five thousand
summers old.'"

Her eye went back to the sea. "It brings before me, somehow," she said
slowly, "all time, and all eternity! I have been thinking here of
myself as I was a little child, and as I shall be, and as I am," she
added, with her inveterate exactness, and blushing. "I seem to see only
the great scale of everything."

"Tell me a little more clearly what you see," said Mr. Linden.

"It isn't worth telling. I see everything here as belonging to God. The
world seems his great work-place, and life his time for doing the work,
and I--and you," she said, with a flash of light coming across her
face, "his work-people. And those great breaking waves, somehow, seem
to me like the resistless, sure, beautiful, doings of his providence."
She spoke very quietly, because she was bidden, evidently.

"Do you know how many other things they are like?--or rather how many
are likened to them in the Bible?"--"No! I don't know the Bible as you
do."

"They seem to be a never-failing image--an illustration suiting very
different things. 'The wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot
rest,' and then, 'O that thou hadst hearkened to me I then had thy
peace been as a river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea.'"

"There is the endless struggle of human will and purpose against the
divine--'The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up
their voice; the floods lift up their waves. The Lord on high is
mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of
the sea.' 'Fear ye not me? saith the Lord: will ye not tremble at my
presence, which have placed the sand for the bound of the sea by a
perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it: and though the waves thereof
toss themselv