"And I deserve punishment for daring to
enquire into wisely-hidden mysteries! But, God knows it is not for
myself that I would pierce the veil! Nothing that concerns myself at
all matters,--I am a straw on the wind,--a leaf on the storm--and
whatever God's law provides for me, that I accept and understand to
be best. But for many millions of sad souls it is not so--and their
way is hard! If they could fully understand the purpose of existence
they would be happier--but they cannot--and we of the Church are too
blind ourselves to help them, for if a little chink of light be
opened to us, we obstinately refuse to see!"
He went to his sleeping room and threw himself down on his bed
dressed as he was, too fatigued in body and mind to do more than
utter his brief usual prayer, "If this should be the sleep of death,
Lord Jesus receive my soul!" And as he closed his eyes he heard the
rain drop on the roof in heavy slow drops that sounded like the dull
ticking of a monstrous clock piecing away the time;--and then he
slept, deeply and dreamlessly,--the calm and unconscious and
refreshing slumber of a child.
How long he slept he did not know, but he was wakened suddenly by a
touch and a voice he knew and loved, calling him.
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