This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1883 edition. Excerpt: ...all I mean. I may not express it, but I am beginning to feel that sorrow is so much more sorrowful because we do not understand its meaning. "But it seems as if no one could understand that, mother." "Yes, it seems so; but now and then, in one''s highest moments, there is a flash, an instant gleam of light, and one sees that there is something to be understood, something to be watched for, waited for, that would transmute all the pain into sudden joy. It comes to me sometimes, and I am filled with repentance that I have grieved and fretted and spent the precious days in anxious care. I see for a moment that it should all make me glad--the loss, the pain, the humiliation; then the moment is gone, and all is dark again. But I have had it--the vision; I know it is there, I know it is true, I know that I shall one day stand and see the mystery unfold, and I wonder if I shall veil my face from the sight in very shame." Carl listened. He did not quite understand, he did not quite know the value of the truths that his receptive mind was storing up against a day of need. During the last week or two of his stay at the office he had many a long and earnest talk with his mother. The two would sit by the firelight, and it always seemed to Carl that that last hour before bed-time was the happiest hour of the twenty-four. It was natural that Carl should wish to be guided by his mother as to the course it would be best for him to pursue in the immediate future. "You can never be anything but a musician/'' she said, "and it is wasting time, wasting life, that you should do other things." "I know it is so, mother; I feel it so strongly that I dread any one even suggesting that I should do anything else. It is like a...