ONE evening as the problem of Life was pressing hard upon me, and I was contemplating the awful seeming of the unreal, and trying to catch a glimpse of the real, it seemed to me that a vast ocean rolled before me, and on it were many ships.
Some were gaily dressed with streamers flying, and all on board seemed joyous and gay. Others, not so pretentious, were plowing their way through the waves, and others with heavy cargoes, moved slowly along.
One ship of all in sight, attracted my attention. It seemed small, in the distance, and all the other ships seemed antagonistic to it, for ever and anon they ran against it with such force as would seem sufficient to sink it, but by wonderful skill it always came up triumphantly.
