“There was a mysterious robbery of Francois’ money on the steam boat a couple of weeks ago,” said Chamilly in English again, “I shall have to lend him some to set him up in business here, but mustn’t do it till after my election.”

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE IDEAL STATE.

The air, meanwhile, had been losing its dampness and the mist disappearing, when Haviland drew up his rod and threw it into the boat, and called upon his friend to turn and look at the sunrise.

American sunsets and sunrises, owing to the atmosphere, are famous for their gorgeousness; but some varieties are especially noble.  Mountain ones charm by floods of lights and coloring over the heights and ravines, to whose character indeed the sky effects make but a clothing robe, and it is the mountains, or the combination, that speaks.  But looking along this glassy avenue of water, flushed with the reflection, it was the great sunrise itself, in its own unobstructed fullness, spreading higher and broader than ever less level country had permitted the Ontarian to behold it, that towered above them over the reedy landscape, in grand suffusions and surges of color.

“It is in Nature,” said Chamilly, comprehending that Chrysler felt the scene, “that I can love Canada most, and become renewed into efforts for the good of her human sons.  I feel in the presence of this,”—­he waved his hand upward, “that I could speak of my ideas.”

“You would please me.  You said a nation must have a reason for existing and that Canada should have a clear ideal of hers.  What is the raison d’etre of Canada?”

“To do pre-eminently well a part of the highest work of all the world!  If by being a nation we can advance mankind; if by being a nation we can make a better community for ourselves; our aims are founded on the highest raison d’etre,—­the ethical spirit. We must deliberately mark out our work on this principle; and if we do not work upon it we had better not exist.”

Then Haviland related to Chrysler freely and fully the comprehensive plan which he had worked out for the building of the nation.

“First of all,” he said, “as to ourselves, there are certain things we must clearly take to mind before we begin:” 

“That we cannot do good work without making ourselves a good people;”

“That we cannot do the best work without being also a strong and intellectual people;”

“And that we cannot attain to anything of value at haphazard; but must deliberately choose and train for it.”

“Labors worthy of Hercules!” ejaculated the old gentleman.

“Worthy of God,” the young one replied.  The difference of age between himself and the Ontarian seemed to disappear, and he proceeded confidently: