He saw that fate hung by a thread; that our lives are turned on the pivot of some mere chance; that, traced back to their source, all our joys and all our sorrows appear to come of some accident no more momentous than a word or a look.

In solemn tones he seemed to say that there is a plague-spot of evil at the core of this world and this life, and that it infects everything.

We may do our best--we should do our best--but we are not therefore to expect reward.

Perhaps that reward will come to us while we live.

More likely it will be the crown laid on our grave.