end in the room. "Her
religion was a religion of the heart," her biographer says. "Her
communion with her Father was of the most natural, most childlike
character. No rule or habit guided her. She just spoke to Him as a child
to its father when she needed help and strength, or when her heart was
filled with joy and gratitude, at any time, in any place. He was so real
to her, so near, that her words were almost of the nature of
conversation. There was no formality, no self-consciousness, no
stereotyped diction, only the simplest language from a quiet and humble
heart. It is told of her that once, when she was in Scotland, after a
tiresome journey, she sat down at the tea table alone, and, lifting up
her eyes, said, 'Thank you, Father--ye ken I'm tired,' in the most
ordinary way as if she had been addressing her friend. On another
occasion in the country, she lost her spectacles while coming from a
meeting in the dark. She could not do without them, and she prayed
simply and directly, 'O Father, give me back my spectacles!' A lady
asked her how she obtained such intimacy with God. 'Ah, woman,' she
said, 'when I am out there in the bush, I have often no other one to
speak to but my Father, and I just talk to Him....'"

"I just talk to Him!" There is the secret of getting and keeping close
to the Father, the most worth-while Companion we can possibly have with
us on country walk, on vacation excursion, amid business perplexities,
in the desert or in the thronged city street, when the days are crowded
with burdens, or when the time of rest after work has come.

Try Him and see if it is not so.

VI

A CHAPTER OF--ACCIDENTS?

A man had planned a three-day trip with care. On paper everything looked
promising for a combination of business and pleasure that would make
these days stand out in the record of the year.

In the morning he would go to Washington. There he would have
opportunity to see in one of the Departments a man whose help in an
emergency would prove invaluable. At four in the afternoon he would
leave for Cincinnati. By taking the train he would miss a bit of scenery
at Cumberland, which he had hoped to see. This could not be helped,
however, for by the train he would be set down in Cincinnati in good
season for the important one-day session of a committee, the primary
object of the trip.

To be sure, he would have to miss another important committee meeting at
home, unless he should forego the Washingto