THE TOWN. 27

 tions of the fort, ever saw that a vast and beau-
 tiful meaning might lie in broken human lives?
 How blank to the little creature in its tiny shell, *
 which lived its short life with myriads like itself,
 were the purposes of those great currents in the
 depths of the sea that plucked its life away from
 it; yet, perhaps, no more meaningless than were
 his own sin and pain to the wicked man, toiling
 in blazing heat above the shell-banks on the
 island, with a ring and chain around his ankle
 and with a bitter heart. How could he tell the
 purpose of his broken life, or know that it might
 be needed in the path of that

 "Far-off divine event
 To which the whole creation moves !"

 The island, lying so low that from the oppo-
site beach one can look across it to the reefs
and breakers, was the safeguard of the town,
sleeping tranquilly among its palms aAid oranges
when it had need of protection. For the ledges
and sand-bars extend far into the sea, like the
fingers of an unseen hand waiting to clutch and
crush the ships of any foe.