ther persons in the meeting frequently moved her to
tears, so that she sat with her hand to her brow to hide the watering
eyes. She did not dread the appeal to herself, for Mr. Rhys never asked
her any troublesome questions; never anything to which she had to make
a troublesome answer; though there might be perhaps matter for thought
in it. He had avoided anything, whether in his asking or replying, that
would give her any difficulty _there_, in the presence of
others,--whatever it might do in her own mind and in secret. To-day he
asked her, "Have you found peace yet?"

"No," said Eleanor.

"What is the state of your mind--if you could give it in one word?"

"Confusion."

"What is it confused about? Do you understand--clearly--the fact that
you are a sinner? without excuse?"

"Fully!"

"Do you understand--clearly--that Christ has suffered for sins, the
just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God?"

"Yes. I understand it."

"Is there any confusion in your mind as to the terms on which the Lord
will receive you?--forsaking your sins, and trusting in him to pardon
and save you?"

"No--I see that."

"Do you think there is any other condition besides those two?"

"No."

"Why do you not accept them?"

Eleanor raised her eyes with a feeling almost of injustice. "I
cannot!"--she said.

"That makes no difference. God never gives a command that cannot with
his help be fulfilled. There was a man once brought to Jesus--carried
by foul men; he was palsied, and lay on a litter or bed, unable to move
himself at all. To this man the Lord said, 'Arise, take up thy bed, and
walk.' Suppose he had looked up and said, 'I cannot?'"

Eleanor struggled with herself. Was this fair? Was it a parallel case?
She could not tell. She kept silence. Mr. Rhys went on, with tones
subdued to great gentleness.

"My friend, Jesus invites to no empty board--to no cold reception. On
his part all is ready; the unreadiness lies somewhere with you, or the
invitation would be accepted. In your case it is not the bodily frame
that is palsied; it is the heart; and the command comes to you, sweet
as the invitation,--'_Give it to me_.' If you are entirely willing, the
thing is done. If it be not done, it is because, somewhere, you are not
willing--or do not believe. If you can trust Jesus, as that poor man
did, you may rise up and stand upon your feet this very hour. 'Believe
ye that I am able to do this?' he asked of the blind man whom