He is unconscious of the ill-health except through his
fancy, and regards it as an intellectual result. It is an affliction
worse ten thousand times than any direct physical pain which ends in
pain. Zachariah could not but admit that he was still physically
weak; he had every reason, therefore, for supposing that his mental
agony was connected with his sickness, but he could not bring himself
to believe that it was so, and he wrestled with his nightmares and
argued with them as though they were mere logical inferences.
However, he began to get better, and forthwith other matters occupied
his mind. His difficulty was not fairly slain, pierced through the
midst by some heaven-directed arrow, but it was evaded and forgotten.
Health, sweet blood, unimpeded action of the heart, are the divine
narcotics which put to sleep these enemies to our peace and enable us
to pass happily through life. Without these blessings a man need not
stir three steps without finding a foe able to give him his death-
stroke.
Zachariah longed to see his wife again; but he could not bring her to
Liverpool until he had some work to do. At last the day came when he
was able to say that he was once more earning his living, and one
evening when he reached home she was there too.
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