ABSTRACT
I watched the sunset. Oh, it is not true that nature touches me too deeply for me to bear it, as I have often said, and tried to believe, when I could not see it. A sky of infinite purity and depth and palpitating colour, the dying softness of the last notes of some pathetic song, the wonder of some world of science first opening to me, the silence of a far-away wood in the evening, the strength of a strong intellect showing great wonders to one, or the joy after victory, the strength in time of weakness, the unexpected letter, coming when one is worn out or has fought a hard battle, the perception of purpose when all had seemed confused, the presence of a friend when loneliness has oppressed one—all these can only gain certain glory when they break in on a life of hard duty.
