IN THE UTTERMOST PARTS OF THE SEA
    
    
        SOME years ago, large ships were sent towards the north
    pole, to explore the distant coasts, and to try how far men
    could penetrate into those unknown regions. For more than a
    year one of these ships had been pushing its way northward,
    amid snow and ice, and the sailors had endured many hardships;
    till at length winter set in, and the sun entirely
    disappeared; for many weeks there would be constant night. All
    around, as far as the eye could reach, nothing could be seen
    but fields of ice, in which the ship remained stuck fast. The
    snow lay piled up in great heaps, and of these the sailors
    made huts, in the form of bee-hives, some of them as large and
    spacious as one of the "Huns' graves," and others only
    containing room enough to hold three or four men. It was not
    quite dark; the northern lights shot forth red and blue
    flames, like continuous fireworks, and the snow glittered, and
    reflected back the light, so that the night here was one long
    twilight. When the moon was brightest, the natives came in
    crowds to see the sailors. They had a very singular appearance
    in their rough, hairy dresses of fur, and riding in sledges
    over the ice. They brought with them furs and skins in great
    abundance, so that the snow-houses were soon provided with
    warm carpets, and the furs also served for the sailors to wrap
    themselves in, when they slept under the roofs of snow, while
    outside it was freezing with a cold far more severe than in
    the winter with us. In our country it was still autumn, though
    late in the season; and they thought of that in their distant
    exile, and often pictured to themselves the yellow leaves on
    the trees at home. Their watches pointed to the hours of
    evening, and time to go to sleep, although in these regions it
    was now always night.
    
        In one of the huts, two of the men laid themselves down to
    rest. The younger of these men had brought with him from home
    his best, his dearest treasure- a Bible, which his grandmother
    had given him on his departure. Every night the sacred volume
    rested under his head, and he had known from his childhood
    what was written in it. Every day he read in the book, and
    while stretched on his cold couch, the holy words he had
    learnt would come into his mind: "If I take the wings of the
    morning, and fly to the uttermost parts of the sea, even there
    Thou art with me, and Thy right hand shall uphold me;" and
    under the influence of that faith which these holy words
    inspired, sleep came upon him, and dreams, which are the
    manifestations of God to the spirit. The soul lives and acts,
    while the body is at rest. He felt this life in him, and it
    was as if he heard the sound of dear, well-known melodies, as
    if the breezes of summer floated around him; and over his
    couch shone a ray of brightness, as if it were shining through
    the covering of his snow-roof. He lifted his head, and saw
    that the bright gleaming was not the reflection of the
    glittering snow, but the dazzling brightness of the pinions of
    a mighty angel, into whose beaming face he was gazing. As from
    the cup of a lily, the angel rose from amidst the leaves of
    the Bible; and, stretching out his arm, the walls of the hut
    sunk down, as though they had been formed of a light, airy
    veil of mist, and the green hills and meadows of home, with
    its ruddy woods, lay spread around him in the quiet sunshine
    of a lovely autumn day. The nest of the stork was empty, but
    ripe fruit still hung on the wild apple-tree, although the
    leaves had fallen. The red hips gleamed on the hedges, and the
    starling which hung in the green cage outside the window of
    the peasant's hut, which was his home, whistled the tune which
    he had taught him. His grandmother hung green birds'-food
    around the cage, as he, her grandson, had been accustomed to
    do. The daughter of the village blacksmith, who was young and
    fair, stood at the well, drawing water. She nodded to the
    grandmother, and the old woman nodded to her, and pointed to a
    letter which had come from a long way off. That very morning
    the letter had arrived from the cold regions of the north;
    there, where the absent one was sweetly sleeping under the
    protecting hand of God. They laughed and wept over the letter;
    and he, far away, amid ice and snow, under the shadow of the
    angel's wings, wept and smiled with them in spirit; for he saw
    and heard it all in his dream. From the letter they read aloud
    the words of Holy Writ: "In the uttermost parts of the sea,
    Thy right hand shall uphold me." And as the angel spread his
    wings like a veil over the sleeper, there was the sound of
    beautiful music and a hymn. Then the vision fled. It was dark
    again in the snow-hut: but the Bible still rested beneath his
    head, and faith and hope dwelt in his heart. God was with him,
    and he carried home in his heart, even "in the uttermost parts
    of the sea.
    
    
                                THE END
    


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