POSTSCRIPT
We turn the pages of the Book of Life with impatient hands. And if we shut up the book at a sad page we say, hastily, "Life is sad." But it is not so. There are other pages waiting to be turned. I, who have copied out one little chapter of the lives of Rachel and Hester, cannot see plainly, but I catch glimpses of those other pages. I seem to see Rachel with children round her, and d.i.c.k not far off, and the old light rekindled in Hester"s eyes. For Hope and Love and Enthusiasm never die.
We think in youth that we bury them in the graveyards of our hearts, but the gra.s.s never yet grew over them. How, then, can life be sad, when they walk beside us always in the growing light towards the Perfect Day.