Strange words of a strange love! An austere patriot’s passion for his fatherland!

He sat down; for half-an-hour we never spoke; neither he to me nor I to him: that interval past, he recommenced —

“Jane, I go in six weeks; I have taken my berth in an East Indiaman which sails on the 20th of June.”

“God will protect you; for you have undertaken His work,” I answered.

“Yes,” said he, “there is my glory and joy. I am the servant of an infallible Master. I am not going out under human guidance, subject to the defective laws and erring control of my feeble fellow-worms: my king, my lawgiver, my captain, is the All-perfect.

It seems strange to me that all round me do not burn to enlist under the same banner, —