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The Try-Works

           Lo!inmybriefsleepIhadturnedmyselfabout,andwasfrontingtheship’sstern,withmybacktoherprowandthecompass.InaninstantIfacedback,justintimetopreventthevesselfromflyingupintothewind,andveryprobablycapsizingher.Howgladandhowgratefultherelieffromthisunnaturalhallucinationofthenight,andthefatalcontingencyofbeingbroughtbythelee!

           Looknottoolonginthefaceofthefire,Oman!Neverdreamwiththyhandonthehelm!Turnnotthybacktothecompass;acceptthefirsthintofthehitchingtiller;believenottheartificialfire,whenitsrednessmakesallthingslookghastly.To-morrow,inthenaturalsun,theskieswillbebright;thosewhoglaredlikedevilsintheforkingflames,themornwillshowinfarother,atleastgentler,relief;theglorious,golden,gladsun,theonlytruelampallothersbutliars!

           NeverthelessthesunhidesnotVirginia’sDismalSwamp,norRome’saccursedCampagna,norwideSahara,norallthemillionsofmilesofdesertsandofgriefsbeneaththemoon.Thesunhidesnottheocean,whichisthedarksideofthisearth,andwhichistwothirdsofthisearth.So,therefore,thatmortalmanwhohathmoreofjoythansorrowinhim,thatmortalmancannotbetruenottrue,orundeveloped.Withbooksthesame.ThetruestofallmenwastheManofSorrows,andthetruestofallbooksisSolomon’s,andEcclesiastesisthefinehammeredsteelofwoe."Allisvanity."ALL.ThiswilfulworldhathnotgotholdofunchristianSolomon’swisdomyet

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