s, "Behold we put bits in the horses' mouths, that they
may obey us";--she had gone on to moral government and suasion; the
means and the forces of both, not failing to illustrate largely here
from personal experience; and on and up to the one great and strong
hand that holds the reins of all, and makes even sunlight and shade,
rock and hill, do his work and his bidding.

But now in all that broad picture of life and life work, appeared a
little dark spot; which, small as it was, formed for the moment the
vanishing point, where every line of beauty and sunlight met and ended.
For with that strange recognizing of unknown things, Faith saw before
her the house where the dying woman lay,--and knew it for that, before
the doctor spoke. A plain, brown, unpainted house; straight and square,
with no break of piazza or window blinds; tapestried on the front with
frost-bitten gourd vines, the yellow and green fruit yet unscathed. The
usual little gate and dooryard common to such country houses; the usual
remains of autumn flowers therein; the usual want of trees. Yet by the
universal law of indemnification, the house was more picturesque than
painting and architecture could have made it. Neighbours it had none,
for contrast; but a low woody point of land stretched off behind it,
reaching out even into the Mong. And the Mong itself--with its cool
sharp glitter in the stirring wind, and the swash of its blue waves at
the very foot of the little paling about the house; its white-sailed
craft, its white-winged sea gulls;--

"Our lives are rivers, gliding free
To that unfathomed, boundless sea,
The silent grave!
Thither all earthly pomp and boast
Roll, to be swallowed up and lost
In one dark wave.

'Thither the mighty torrents stray,
Thither the brook pursues its way,
And tinkling rill.
There all are equal. Side by side
The poor man and the son of pride
Lie calm and still."

Of the two that now entered that little dooryard, one felt all this and
one did not. The one who had felt "the power of an endless life,"
perceived the narrow bounds of this,--to the one who had nothing
beyond, its domain was vast. And as is often the case, the man went
first and the angel followed.

The doctor stepped up to the bedside and made some general enquiries.
But it did not appear that there was much _he_ could do.

"Mrs. Custers," said he presently, "you know I promised I would bring,
if I could, a lady