It is morning by the sea. The sleeper wakes to rain and meditation on the nature of the universe, man and his life in it. As he considers this world of injustice, pain and mystery, he decides that ""the world is not reality. The world is a dream."" The day moves on and so do the thoughts of the narrator, to take up in their turn the nature of pain, of evil, of external reality, of the Self, the impossibility of free will and the rightness of all that is, the need for simple faith which alone can sustain and which leads to meaning in ""the Oneness,"" the touchstone toward which we must move in mutual sympathy. And so as the day turns, the philosopher turns from thoughts of suffering and loss to an inspiriting mutuality, and the consolation that death may indeed be a new birth. H. A. Hartwick does not openly rely on any particular faith, yet his meditation calls upon several for its insights and conclusions, in a fresh synthesis. It will appeal to the more eclectic seeker of reflective bent.