consciousness of a continent throbbing in sympathy, despite the frowns and lies and evil speakings of governments and press and capitalistic organisations and of those whom these influence, dawned upon him.  All the world over it was the same, two great ideas were crystallising, two great parties were forming, the lists were being cleared by combats such as this for the ultimate death-struggle between two great principles which could not always exist side by side.  The robbed were beginning to understand the robbery; the workers were beginning to turn upon the drones; the dominance of the squatter, the mine-owner, the ship-owner, the land-owner, the shareholder, was being challenged; this was not the end, but surely it was the beginning of the end.

“Curse them!” muttered Ned, grinding his teeth, as he gazed out upon the moonlit country-side.  “What’s the good of that?” he thought.  “As Geisner says, they don’t know any better.  A man ought to pity them, for they’re no worse than the rest of us.  They’re no better and no worse than we’d be in their places.  They can’t help it any more than we can.”

A great love for all mankind stole over him, a yearning to be at fellowship with all.  What fools men are to waste Life in making each other miserable, he thought!  Why should not men like Strong and Geisner join hands?  Why should not the republican kiss pass from one to another till loving kindness reigned all the world round?  Men were rough and hasty and rash of tongue and apt to think ill too readily.  But they were good at heart, the men he knew, and surely the men he did not know were the same.  Perhaps some day——­He built divine castles in the air as he twisted Nellie’s rose between his fingers.  Suddenly a great wonder seized him—­he realised that he felt happy.

Happy!  When he should be most miserable.  Nellie would not be his wife and his union was in danger and prison gates yawned in front and already he was being hunted like an outlaw.  Yet he was happy.  He had never been so happy before.  He was so happy that, he desired no change for himself.  He would not have changed of his free will one step of his allotted path.  He hated nobody.  He loved everybody.  He understood Life somewhat as he had never understood before.  A great calm was upon him, a lulling between the tempest that had passed and the tempests that were coming, a forecast of the serenity to which Humanity is reaching by Pain.

“What does it matter, after all?” he murmured to himself.  “There is nothing worth worrying over so long as one does one’s best.  Things are coming along all right.  We may be only stumbling towards the light but we’re getting there just the same.  So long as we know that what does the rest matter?”

“What am I?” he thought, looking up at the stars, which shone the brighter because the moon was now hidden behind the train.  “I am what I am, as the, old Jew God was, as we all are.  We think we can change everything and we can change nothing.  Our very thoughts and motives and ideals are only bits of the Eternal Force that holds the stars balanced in the skies and keeps the earth for a moment solid to our feet.  I cannot move it.  I cannot affect it.  I cannot shake it.  It alone is.”