The next day rose glorious. Indeed, early as the sun rose, I saw him
rise--saw him, from the down above the house, over the land to the east and
north, ascend triumphant into his own light, which had prepared the way for
him; while the clouds that hung over the sea glowed out with a faint flush,
as anticipating the hour when the west should clasp the declining glory in
a richer though less dazzling splendour, and shine out the bride of the
bridegroom east, which behold each other from afar across the intervening
world, and never mingle but in the sight of the eyes. The clear pure light
of the morning made me long for the truth in my heart, which alone could
make me pure and clear as the morning, tune me up to the concert-pitch of
the nature around me. And the wind that blew from the sunrise made me hope
in the God who had first breathed into my nostrils the breath of life, that
he would at length so fill me with his breath, his wind, his spirit, that
I should think only his thoughts and live his life, finding therein my own
life, only glorified infinitely.

After breakfast and prayers, I would go to the church to await the arrival
of my new acquaintance the smith. In order to obtain entrance, I had,
however, to go to the cottage of the sexton. This was not my first visit
there, so that I may now venture to take my reader with me. To reach the
door, I had to cross a hollow by a bridge, built, for the sake of the
road, over what had once been the course of a rivulet from the heights
above. Now it was a kind of little glen, or what would in Scotland be
called a den, I think, grown with grass and wild flowers and ferns, some
of them, rare and fine. The roof of the cottage came down to the road,