vision as
you would have. The Father of our spirits is not content that we should
know Him as we now know each other. There is a better, closer, nearer
than any human way of knowing, and to that He is guiding us across all
the swamps of our unteachableness, the seas of our faithlessness, the
desert of our ignorance. It is so very hard that we should have to wait
for that which we can not yet receive? Shall we complain of the shadows
cast upon our souls by the hand and the napkin polishing their mirrors
to the receiving of the more excellent glory! Have patience, children of
the Father. Pray always and do not faint. The mists and the storms and
the cold will pass--the sun and the sky are for evermore. There were no
volcanoes and no typhoons but for the warm heart of the earth, the soft
garment of the air, and the lordly sun over all. The most loving of you
can not imagine how one day the love of the Father will make you love
even your own.

Much trustful talk passed between father and daughter as they walked
home: they were now nearer to each other than ever in their lives
before.

"You don't mind my coming out here alone, papa?" said Dorothy, as, after
a little chat with the gate-keeper, they left the park. "I have of late
found it so good to be alone! I think I am beginning to learn to think."

"Do in every thing just as you please, my child," said her father. "I
can have no objection to what you see good. Only don't be so late as to
make me anxious."

"I like coming early," said Dorothy. "These lovely mornings make me feel
as if the struggles of life were over, and only a quiet old age were
left."

The father looked anxiously at his daughter. Was she going to leave him?
It smote him to the heart that he had done so little to make her life a
blessed one. How hard no small portion of it had been! How worn and pale
she looked! Why did she not show fresh and bright like other young
women--Mrs. Faber for instance? He had not guided her steps into the way
of peace! At all events he had not led her home to the house of wisdom
and rest! Too good reason why--he had not himself yet found that home!
Henceforth, for her sake as well as his own, he would besiege the
heavenly grace with prayer.

The opening of his heart in confessional response to his daughter,
proved one of those fresh starts in the spiritual life, of which a man
needs so many as he climbs to the heavenly gates.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

PAUL FABER'S DRE