BY GEORGE MAC DONALD, LL.D.
VOL. II.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
I. ANOTHER SUNDAY EVENING
II. NICEBOOTS
III. THE BLACKSMITH
IV. THE LIFE-BOAT
V. MR. PERCIVALE
VI. THE SHADOW OF DEATH
VII. AT THE FARM
VIII. THE KEEVE
IX. THE WALK TO CHURCH
X. THE OLD CASTLE
XI. JOE AND HIS TROUBLE
XII. A SMALL ADVENTURE
XIII. THE HARVEST
In the evening we met in Connie's room, as usual, to have our talk. Andthis is what came out of it.
The window was open. The sun was in the west. We sat a little aside outof the course of his radiance, and let him look full into the room.Only Wynnie sat back in a dark corner, as if she would get out of hisway. Below him the sea lay bluer than you could believe even when yousaw it—blue with a delicate yet deep silky blue, the exquisiteness ofwhich was thrown up by the brilliant white lines of its lapping on thehigh coast, to the northward. We had just sat down, when Dora broke outwith—
"I saw Niceboots at church. He did stare at you, papa, as if he hadnever heard a sermon before."
"I daresay he never heard such a sermon before!" said Connie, with theperfect confidence of inexperience and partiality—not to sayignorance, seeing she had not heard the sermon herself.
Here Wynnie spoke from her dark corner, apparently forcing herself tospeak, and thereby giving what seemed an unpleasant tone to what shesaid.
"Well, papa, I don't know what to think. You are always telling us totrust in Him; but how can we, if we are not good?"
"The first good thing you can do is to look up to him. That is thebeginning of trust in him, and the most sensible thing that it ispossible for us to do. That is faith."
"But it's no use sometimes."
"How do you know that?"
"Because you—I mean I—can't feel good, or care about it at all."
"But is that any ground for saying that it is no use—that he does notheed you? that he disregards the look cast up to him? that, till theheart goes with the will, he who made himself strong to be the helperof the weak, who pities most those who are most destitute—and who sodestitute as those who do not love what they want to love—except,indeed, those who don't want to love?—that, till you are well ontowards all right by earnestly seeking it, he won't help you? You areto judge him from yourself, are you?—forgetting that all the misery inyou is just because you have not got his grand presence with you?"
I spoke so earnestly as to be somewhat incoherent in words. But myreader will understand. Wynnie was silent. Connie, as if partly to helpher sister, followed on the same side.
"I don't know exactly how to say what I mean, papa, but I wish I couldget this lovely afternoon, all full of sunshine and blue, into unitywith all that you teach us about Jesus Christ. I wish this beautifulday came in with my thought of him, like the frame—gold and red andblue—that you have to that picture of him at home. Why d