The Edge of the Shadow
This is the happiness of the god of the universe, if there is any god of the universe."
He moved in his chair, his elbows out, his fingers extended, his bony face uplifted.
"Abner," he cried, "I am willing for you to endure life as you find it and say it is the will of God, but, as for me, I will not be cowed into submission. I will not be held back from laying hold of the lever of the great engine merely because the rumble of the machinery fills other men with terror."
"Mansfield," replied my uncle, in his deep, level voice, "the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom."
The old man moved his extended arms with a powerful threshing motion, like a vulture beating the air with its great wings.
"Fear!" he cried. "Why, Abner, fear is the last clutch of the animal clinging to the intelligence of man as it emerges from the instinct of the beast. The first man thought the monsters about him were gods. Our fathers thought the elements were gods, and we think the impulse moving the machinery of the world is the will of some divine authority. And always the only thing in the universe that was superior to these things has been afraid to assert itself. The human will that can change things, that can do as it likes, has been afraid of phantasms that never yet met with anything they could turn aside."
He clenched his hands, contracted his elbows, and brought them down with an abrupt derisive gesture.
"I do not understand," he said, "but I am not
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