PREFACE. vii 



commences. Tliis acids another great attraction to tlie 

 stream : the hixnry of floating aimlessly np or down as 

 the tide listeth. It matters not that it is the same 

 stream ; as we near the river every bend presents a pict- 

 ure, unlike the varied landscape before us as we return. 

 What greater joy than floating with the tide ? One 

 becomes as the water itself, hopeless as fate, whether 

 borne oceanward or inland. Indeed, we are little else 

 than tide -borne creatures, whatever our calling. Our 

 pitiless surroundings dictate every motion of the hand, 

 every flush of the intellect. Man's free agency is equal 

 to that of the rock-encased toad that a blast in the 

 quarry sets at freedom. Freedom ! the toad's first leap 

 will be determined by the nearest fly. But man is prac- 

 tically free who does not feel the chafing of his chains, 

 and should ask no happier fate. Perhaps it may seem 

 trifling and unworthy manhood to thus drift aimlessly 

 along ; to ])e afloat and have no port in view. It is less 

 so than it seems. "Who can tell at what moment a pass- 

 ing breeze may lodge us upon a sand-bar ; may firmly en- 

 tangle us among the branches of a sunken tree ; may 

 carry us from the main channel to some hitherto unseen 

 stream known far better to the bittern and the musk- 

 rat than to man. Are not any and all these ports, if I 

 may call them such, of sufticient merit to be worthy of 

 making? What treasures may there not be there in 

 waiting ! The wealth for wliich we sigh may often be 

 where it is least suspected. If we chance to be caught 

 upon a sand-bar or a waterlogged tree, let it be to the 

 advantage of our patience to await cheerfully for the 

 helpful tide to set us free. His happiness is half assured 

 who has learned to be patient. Suppose it is a sand-bar 

 that has checked our progress. Is this a. port that may 

 not be advantageously made? What is a sand-bar? A 



