time that seems a thousand years—through my cold, dark childhood to my cold, dark womanhood. Is that not enough to quiet you? Is that not enough to teach you the lesson of Nothing? You are not a genius, but you are not a fool."
"I will keep my one atom of faith," said my soul.
"But lie and sleep now," I said. "Don't reach after that Light any more. Let us both sleep a few years."
"No," said my soul.
"Oh, my soul," I wailed, "look away at that glowing copper horizon—and beyond it. Let us go there now and take an infinite rest. Now! We can bear this no longer."
"No," said my soul; "we will stay here and bear more. There would be no rest yet beyond the copper horizon. And there is no need of going anywhere. I have my one atom of faith."
I gazed at my soul as it stood plainly before me, weak and worn and faint, in
