nt
to admire!

The problem was insoluble; the only way was to set one's self
courageously at one's own little corner of the gigantic scheme, to
attack it as faithfully as one could, by humble aspirations, quiet
ministries, and tender-hearted sympathy; to take as simply as possible
whatever message of beauty and hope fell to one's share; not to be
absorbed in one's own dreams and imaginings, but to interpret
faithfully every syllabic of the great Gospel; and, above all, to
remember that work was inevitable, necessary, and even beautiful; but
that it only had the noble quality, when it was undertaken for the love
of others, and not for love of oneself.

XVII

Spring--Wonder

The return of the sweet spring days, with the balmy breath of warm
winds, soft sunshine on the pastures, the songs of contented birds in
thicket and holt, brought to Hugh an astonishing richness of sensation,
a waft of joy that was yet not light-hearted, joy that was on the one
hand touched with a fine rapture, yet on the other hand overshadowed by
a wistful melancholy. The frame, braced by wintry cold, revelled in
the outburst of warmth, of light, of life; and yet the very
luxuriousness of the sensation brought with it a languor and a
weariness that was akin rather to death than life. He rode alone far
into the shining countryside, and found, in the middle of wide fields
with softly swelling outlines, where the dry ploughlands were dappled
with faint fawn-coloured tints, a little wood, in the centre of which
was a reed-fringed pool. The new rushes were beginning to fringe the
edges of the tiny lake, but the winter sedge stood pale and sere, and
filled the air with a dry rustling. The water was as clear as a
translucent gem, and Hugh saw that life was at work on the floor of the
pool, sending up rich tresses of green-haired water-weed. The copse
was green under foot, full of fresh, uncrumpling leaves. He sat down
beside the pool; the silence of the wide fields was broken only by the
faint rustling of sedge and tree, and the piping of a bird, hid in some
darkling bush hard by. Never had Hugh been more conscious of the
genial outburst of life all about him, yet never more aware of his
isolation from it all. His body seemed to belong to it all, swayed and
governed by the same laws that prompted their gentle motions to tree
and herb; but his soul seemed to him to-day like a bright creature
caught in the meshes of a net, beating its w