CHAPTER V.
Martin, being willing to yo to sea, goes to sea against his will.

OUR years rolled away, casting chequered light
iz and shadow over the little village of Ashford
in their silent passage—whitening the forelocks of
the aged, and strengthening the muscles of the young.
Death, too, touched a hearth here and there, and
carried desolation to a home; for four years cannot
wing their flight without enforcing on us the lesson
—which we are so often taught, and yet take so
long to learn—that this is not our rest, that here
we have no abiding city. Did we but ponder this
lesson more frequently and earnestly, instead of mak-
ing us sad, it would nerve our hearts and hands to
fight and work more diligently—to work in the cause
of our Redeemer—the only cause that is worth the
life-long energy of immortal beings—the great cause
that includes all others; and it would teach us to
remember that our little day of opportunity will soon
be spent, and that the night is at hand in which no

man can work,