"Well," continued Mrs. Thorburn, "I should urge you to take God's checks patiently and thankfully. If He tries to withdraw some parts of the figures of life, do not cling to them: if He tries to leave Himself the one great background, let Him. Let Him do what He will with you. He loves you, and will do nothing violently, nothing you cannot bear. With every temptation He will make a way to escape, that you may be able to bear it.""

6

"Go on," said Jessy, whose face still was covered by her hands, eager to drink in each remark which Mrs. Thorburn made, "you are telling me just what I wanted."

"Then, my dear Miss Seymour, determine to see God's hand in every thing; determine to read His handwriting on the wall of your life chamber, wherever you move; and trust, entirely trust to His being willing to enable you to bear patiently your trial, and that He will never give you more than you are able to bear ;` and all will be well. He will feed His flock like a Shepherd, and will carry the lambs in His arms.' 'He will temper the wind to the shorn lamb, and will ever stay His rough wind in the day of the east wind.' If He tries it is to make heaven more dear to you and earth less."

you

"But ah! there is the point," said Jessy; "I cannot make heaven dear to me; it is not dear to me; I dread it; it is strange and awful to me; I had rather stay here, rather be with Leonard, rather not die."

"So I felt once," said Mrs. Thorburn, "and know your feeling well. But God will make heaven dear to

C C

you if you will let Him. You cannot make yourself love it it is no matter of our own effort; it is the result of acts which form a habit. You will love heaven and long for it more in proportion as more and more of those you love go thither, or as the cords of your earthly tabernacle are cut away. The tent which is stretched out on the soil of the wilderness appears firm and stable, and appears to need no wind to swell it out: but when the cords are cut its folds hang loose and windless, and need God's air to stretch them. If He cuts your tentropes for you, He will prepare a wind of His own to swell out the canvass: trust Him for that. Lie more passively in His hand, more quietly; that is what He wants; and let Him do to you what seemeth Him good."

There was a pause. "O thank you, dear Mrs. Thorburn, thank you ten thousand times. There was one thing more which I had to say, one little thing, I don't know how to say it."

"Say it, Miss Seymour, if you will; I am only too thankful to aid you."

"O it was this: I know it is only my own fault: but Leonard does not talk as you do. He does not understand my difficulties; he does not seem to sympathise with my feelings. He smiles when I tell him all this, and says I am all right and am so much better than he is; and he does not know half—oh not half;-if he did he never would say all he does. What shall I do? what should I do? And yet he is so very very good."

"Don't think of that, Miss Seymour. Pray that

GOD will guide him and you. Pray that you may both 'have a right judgment in all things.' He will guide you both. Let him see by your example the influence of religion, and he will understand your wants better. Do not fret because he cannot understand you: no one thoroughly understands us but JESUS. 'He knoweth our frame,' and understands the whole case. Mr. Loraine loves GOD and is walking towards heaven, and GOD will guide into perfect truth all those who have set out in its blessed paths. Rely on that. The way of truth is sure to bring those who walk in it to its own lamp. Its stream will certainly lead up to its fountain. You are both in God's hand, so leave Him to do His own work. We are inclined to think far too much about our own personalities."

"What do you mean by that?" said Jessy.

"I mean," said Mrs. Thorburn, "that we make a great mistake in dwelling so much on our own personal condition. The great body of His Church and the personal glory of JESUS should be more our aim, and then we shall fall into our own place. Ezra's joy should be ours, to count it our highest privilege to be allowed after our wanderings to be a nail in His holy place."

"How do you mean? I do not understand you."

"I mean that we should have the general coherence and glory of His kingdom in our eye; we should aim at being nails keeping together the whole: doing often rough work, perhaps, and rude to look at. Be thankful to be a 'nail in His holy place.' You, dear Miss Seymour, are dwelling too much on the personal

points of the character, and are fretting and making yourself wretched, because you are thinking more of the members than the Body. The nail keeps all together, and by the coherence of the whole is itself kept."

"I like that thought, much, very much. But tell me how exactly do you mean. How can I be a nail in His holy place?"

"We keep God's house together many ways: when we bring together those who dispute; when we show a consistent life; when we forgive those who have deeply injured us; when we consent to the shame of penitence and confession, and take patiently God's dealing for our sins; then we are nails in God's house, nails in His holy place. You may depend on it, dear Miss Seymour, that your troubles many of them arise from your too great individuality. You allow yourself to think too much of yourself, instead of letting care and anxiety sink down in the one great feeling that God should do what He likes with you, and that He is carving and chiselling the stone for its own position in His holy place."

"Jessy, my love," said the voice of Mrs. Mulso, "I am sure you have been long enough with Alice. Come down to luncheon; it is not good for you to be so long talking; you know it is not, and here are your father and Miss Loraine both coming down the lane to find you."

The tone of Mrs. Mulso's voice told plainly enough, that her usual jealousy of Mrs. Thorburn's influence was at that moment prominent and uppermost, and

that her dread of her influencing Jessy's mind with any of her peculiar views was agitating the old lady.

Jessy pressed Mrs. Thorburn's hand, and looked through that full eye of her's the deep gratitude of her soul. She felt at that moment that anything was insipid and empty to her except the one yearning to seek GOD, and to find comfort to her spirit. But she could not wait, and she hastily left the room to follow Mrs. Mulso to the luncheon room, and to new scenes, people, and conversations.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE LUNCHEON.

THE luncheon was laid in a long passage which led from the dining-room into the drawing-room. It was furnished with Persian carpet, long couches, and hung with pictures; while large portfolios giving out an odorous smell of Russia leather and dust leant against the wall. Here and there in retiring niches were high blue and white China vases, which sent up scents when you approached them, seeming to come from sweet things of years ago which had been left and forgotten, down low in the shady depth; and in vain had gone on sending up their antiquated odours to claim notice and release. But they called in vain. none ever heeded, save sometimes a straggling idler who, on some long autumn holiday peering behind