d,
and there are things which can but be felt. No man can utter the secret
of the Lord--only the Lord Himself. Ask Him to whisper it to you. You
will care little for the smiles or the frowns of the world when He has
done so."

Is not that just what I want? "But will He tell it to any one?" I
said.

"He tells it to those who long for it," she replied. "His smile may be
had by any who will have it. It costs a great deal, sometimes. But it
is worth the cost."

"What does it cost, Madam?"

"It costs what most men think very precious, and yet is really worth
nothing at all. It costs the world's flatteries, which are as a net for
the feet; and the world's pleasures, which are as the crackling of
thorns under the pot; and the world's honours, which are empty air. It
often costs these. There are few men who can be trusted with both."

There was a minute's silence, and then she said,--

"The Scottish Catechism, my dear, saith that `Man's chief end is to
glorify God, and to enjoy Him for ever.' Grander words were never
penned out of God's own Word. And among the most striking words in it
are those of David, which may be called the response thereto--`When I
awake up after Thy likeness, I shall be satisfied with it.'"

Then Annas and Flora came in.

But I had got what I wanted.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bloomsbury Square, London, September 23rd 1745.
While we were travelling, I could not get at my book to write anything;
and had I been able, I doubt whether I should have found time. We
journeyed from early morning till late at night, really almost as though
we were flying from a foe: though of course we should have had nothing
to fear, had the royal army overtaken us. It was only the Elector's
troops who would have meddled with us; and they were in Scotland
somewhere. There is indeed a rumour flying abroad to-night (saith my
Uncle Charles), that the Prince has entered Edinburgh: but we know not
if it be true or no. If so, he will surely push on straight for London,
since the rebellious troops must have been driven quite away, before he
could do that. So my Uncle Charles says; and he saith too, that they
are a mere handful of raw German mercenaries, who would never stand a
moment against the courage, the discipline, and the sense of right,
which must animate the King's army.

Oh dear! where shall I begin, if I am to write down a