8o Musings by Camp-Fire and Wayside 



sciousness almost immediately after she was dragged 

 down. This startling incident gave me new light 

 on the character of Nature's tragedies. 



Across a high ridge from our home Island Lake 

 lies a beautiful round pool, scarcely over eighty 

 rods in diameter, but sixty feet deep, fringed with 

 white birches, a little emerald beauty. We noticed, 

 when exploring here, that it was teeming with small 

 bass not over six inches in length, all of a size and 

 all adults. The explanation was not far to find. 

 This lake has been isolated from other waters for 

 centuries, and its inhabitants were reduced to 

 dwarfs by overcrowding and starvation. 



There can scarcely be said to be room for choice 

 between a sudden — and if painful, for the briefest 

 moment painful, death— and a lingering and miser- 

 able decay from slow disease or starvation. It is 

 true that the prayer-book has among its petitions 

 this one: "From sudden death, good Lord, deliver 

 us." But that was put in to keep in repair the idea 

 that time in which to secure the ministrations of the 

 priest is desirable. 



The conclusions from these facts are, that the 

 tragedies of Nature are benign; that they reduce to 

 a minimum the sum total of pain; and that con- 

 versely they greatly increase the possibilities and 

 the great aggregate of happiness. They are also 

 essential to the development of the high orders of 

 life, including man, with his splendid possibilities 

 of joy in the higher planes of knowledge. 



