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Nor can we determine the true significance of any living act; for being ourselves within the compass of the life-mystery, we cannot hold it at arm's length from us and look at its lines of configuration. Nor of a life can we in any measure determine the success by what we behold of it.
It was on a grey day when I met the strange tramp whose life-mystery is here told. I came upon him on a quiet forenoon, and was surprised by him. He came, as it were, out of thin air. I had been looking at the river with eyes that saw not I was exploring my own heart and its memories when suddenly I turned round and saw him, smiling, with a greeting on his countenance.
Praying with those who were about to give up the ghost; administering the last rites of the Church to those who, in awful agony, were fluttering like singed moths at the edge of the great flame, the Great Life-Mystery of Death. He wrote beautifully sad letters of comfort to the mothers of boy-officers who were killed. Father S knew every man: every man knew Father S and admired him.
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