fe of great simplicity."

"Is it always easy to find?" ventured Eleanor.

"Very!--if his will is all that we desire."

"But that is a very searching, deep question."

"Let it search, then. 'My meat is to do the will of him--' No matter
what that may be, Miss Powle; our choice lies in this--that it is his
will. And as soon as we set our hearts upon one or the other particular
sort of work, or labour in any particular place, or even upon any given
measure of success attending our efforts, so that we are not willing to
have him reverse our arrangements,--we are getting to have too much
will about it."

Eleanor looked up with some effort.

"You are making it a great matter, to be a true servant of Christ, Mr.
Rhys."

"Would you have it a little matter?" he said with a smile of great
sweetness and brightness. "Let the Lord have all! He was among us 'as
one that serveth'--amid discouragements and disappointments, and abuse;
and he has warned us that the servant is not greater than his Lord. It
is not a little thing, to be the minister of Jesus Christ!"

"Now you are getting out of the general into the particular."

"No--I am not; a 'minister' is but a servant; what we call a minister,
is but in a more emphatic degree the servant of all. The rules of
service are the same for him and for others. Let us look at another
one. Here it is--in John--"

And the fingers that Eleanor had watched the other morning, and with
which she had a curious association, came turning over the leaves.

"'Ye call me Master, and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am. If I then,
your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one
another's feet. For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I
have done to you.'--One thing is plain from that, Miss Eleanor--we are
not to consider ourselves too good for anything."

"No--" said Eleanor;--"but I suppose that does not forbid a just
judgment of ourselves or of others, in respect of their adaptations and
qualifications."

"Yes it does," he said quickly. "The only question is, Has the Lord put
that work in your hands? If he has, never ask whether your hands are
the right ones. He knows. What our Lord stooped to do, well may we!"

Eleanor dared not say any more; she knew of what he was thinking;
whether he had a like intuition with respect to her thoughts she did
not know, and would not risk them any nearer discovery.

"There is another thing about being a servant of Chr