and face to face or side
by side.

Over the woods and the waves, when the morning breaks, like a
bridegroom coming forth from his chamber, rejoicing as a strong man to
run a race, comes up the sun in his might and crowns himself king. All
the summer day, from morn to dewy eve, we sail over the lakes of
Paradise. Blue waters, and blue sky, soft clouds and green islands,
and fair, fruitful shores, sharp-pointed hills, long, gentle slopes and
swells, and the lights and shadows of far-stretching woods; and over
all the potence of the unseen past, the grand, historic past,--soft
over all the invisible mantle which our fathers flung at their
departing,--the mystic effluence of the spirits that trod these wilds
and sailed these waters,--the courage and the fortitude, the hope that
battled against hope, the comprehensive outlook, the sagacious purpose,
the resolute will, the unhesitating self-sacrifice, the undaunted
devotion which has made this heroic ground; cast these into your own
glowing crucible, O gracious friend, and crystallize for yourself such
a gem of days as shall worthily be set forever in your crown of the
beatitudes.

PART III.

Sometimes I become disgusted with myself. Not very often, it is true,
for I don't understand the self-abhorrence that I occasionally see long
drawn out in the strictly private printed diaries of good dead people.
A man's self-knowledge, as regards his Maker, is a matter that lies
only between his Maker and himself, of which no printed or written
(scarcely even spoken) words can give, or ought to give, a true
transcript; but in respect of our relations to other people I suppose
we may take tolerably accurate views, and state them without
wickedness, if it comes in the way; and since the general trend of
opinion seems to be towards excessive modesty, I will sacrifice myself
to the good of society, and say that, in the main, I think I am a
rather "nice" sort of person. Of course I do a great many things, and
say a great many things, and think a great many things, that I ought
not; but when I think of the sins that I don't commit,--the many times
when I feel cross enough to "bite a ten-penny nail in two," and only
bite my lips,--the sacrifices I make for other people, and don't
mention it, and they themselves never know it,--the quiet cheerfulness
I maintain when the fire goes out, or unexpected guests arrive and
there is no bread in the house, or my manuscript is respectfully
d