"But," said I doubtfully, "I had questioned what was right; at

least I had not been certain that I ought to do anything just

now."

"Of course I am speaking in the dark," he answered. "But you

can judge whether this matter of division is something that in

your father's place you would feel you had a right to know."

I mused so long after this speech, that I am sure Mr.

Dinwiddie must have felt that he had touched my difficulty. He

was perfectly silent. At last I rose up to go home. I do not

know what Mr. Dinwiddie saw in me, but he stopped me and took

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my hand.

"Can't you trust the Lord?" he said.

"I see trouble before me, whatever I do," I said with some

difficulty.

"Very well," he said; "even so, trust the Lord. The trouble

will do you no harm."

I sat down for a moment and covered my face. It might do me no

harm; it might at the same time separate me from what I loved

best in the world.

"Cannot you trust?" he repeated. " 'He that putteth his trust

in the Lord shall be made fat.' "

"You know," I said, getting up, "one cannot help being weak."

"Will you excuse me? - That is precisely what we can help. We

cannot help being ignorant sometimes, - foolish sometimes, -

short-sighted. But weak we need not be; for 'in the Lord

Jehovah is everlasting strength;' and 'he giveth power to the

faint.' "

"But there is no perfection, Mr. Dinwiddie."

"Not if by perfection you mean, standing alone. But if the

power that holds us up is perfect, - what should hinder our

having a fulness of that? 'If ye shall ask anything in My

name, I will do it.' Isn't that promise good for all we want

to ask?"

I sat down again to think. Mr. Dinwiddie quietly took his

place by my side; and we were still for a good while. The

plains of Jericho and the Jordan and the Moab mountains and

the Quarantania, all seemed to have new voices for me now;

voices full of balm; messages of soft-healing. I do think the

messages God sends to us by natural things are some of the

sweetest and mightiest and best understood of all. They come

home.

"Do you think," I asked, after a long silence, "that this

mountain was really the scene of the Temptation?"

"Why should we think so? No, I do not think it."

"But the road from Jericho to Jerusalem - there is no doubt of

that?"

"No doubt at all. We are often sure of the roads here, when we

are sure of little else."

There was a pause; and then Mr. Dinwiddie broke it.

"You left things in confusion at home. How do you feel about

that?"




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