The Redemption of David Corson

of temptation, a critical hour which shall more es

rified him, so that when he did at last recall the experience which had affected him so deeply, it was with indifference. The charm had vanished. Even the gypsy's beauty paled in the light of the Holy Sabbath morning. He c

kind and trustful faces of his family, dispelled the last cloud from the sky of his soul. Having finished the round of morn

tions of the Spirit is absolute. They are to him as imperat

ff," he said, kissing her

mp, my son?" she asked, regardi

shall hear me," replied the young devotee, his face lighting up w

inistrations fruitful," his mother sa

his inward calm. The very intensity of his recent struggles had rendered his soul acutely sensitive, like a delicate musical instrument which responded fr

re in the embrace of Nature, filled his soul with joy. He accosted the trees as one greets a friend; he chatted with the b

unconscious of its chains because they have not been stretched t

alize how much of his exhilaration came from the feelings awakened by the experiences of the day before. One might almost say that a spiritual fragrance from the wom

een the calm face of Dorothy Fraser, soft and tender feelings had arisen in his heart; but they were only t

opportunity to thrust itself again before his consciousness. In the meantime he was happy. Never had he seemed to himself more perfectly possessed by the Divine Spirit than at the moment when he reached the summit of the last hill, and looked down into the valley where lay the lumber-camp. He paused to gaze upon a scene of su

have been deceived by my

the echo of his own voice. He tried the door, and it opened. Through it he entered the low-ceiled room. On every hand were evidences of recent departure; living coals still glowed in the ashes and crumbs were scattered on the tables. There coul

more. If he had spoken the real sentiment of his heart he would have said: "I have been deceived." He did not speak, however, but struggled bravely to throw off the feelings of surprise and doubt; and so, reassuring his faith aga

try my faith. All he requires is obedience! It is not necessary t

-worn Bible, he turned to the fourteenth chapter of the Gospel of Saint John, rose to his feet and began to read. It was strange to be reading to this emptiness and silence, but after a moment he adjusted himself to the situation. The earnest effort he was m

and fragmentary. He suffered an unfamiliar and painful embarrassment, but struggled on, and his thoughts cleared themselves like a brook by flowing. Each effort resulted in a greater facility of utterance, and soon the joy of triumph began to inspire him. The old confidence returned at last and his soul, filled with faith and hope and fervor, poured itself forth in a full torrent. He began to be awed by the conjecture that his errand

. It seemed to him like a sob and there followed stumbling footsteps as of some one in hurried f

His thoughts began to flow less easily and his tongue occasionally to stammer; the strangeness of his experience came back upon him with redouble

nce. Through the open door to which his back was turned, a little snake had made its way into the room, and having writhed silently across the floor, coiled itsel

ce and yet he must have been thinking, for he suddenly collapsed, sank down on a rude bench and rested his head on his hands as if he had come to some disagreeable, and perhaps terrible conclusion. And so indeed he had. The uneasy suspicions which had been floating in his mind in a state of solution were suddenly crystallized by this

dom could have planned this repulsive adventure! I have been misled! I a

cause its existence had been testified to by others, but because he daily and hourly entered its sacred precincts. He had faith in God, not because He had spoken to apostl

d the superstructure of his faith crumbled and fell. He had been deceived! The communicati

it became the theater of a desperate battle between the good and evil elements of life. Doubt grappled

aid was true, then! Religion was a delusion, and he had been spending the best portion of his life in hugging it to his bosom. Much of his youth had already

e the simple country people among whom he had grown up, and those provincial ideas

as if he would be swept completely from his moorings. But his trust had been firmly anchored, and did not easily let go its hold.

eager face, these were foes against which he struggled in vain. A feverish desire, whose true significance he did not altogether understand, tugged at his heart, and he felt himself drawn by unseen hands toward this mysterious and beautiful being. She seemed to him at that awful moment, when his whole world of thought and feeling was

o convince himself that this experience was a trial of his faith, and that if he stood out a little longer, his doubt would pass away. He lifted his head and glanced at the serpent still coiled upon the hearth. Its eyes were fixed upon him in a gorgon-like stare, and hi

lives of other men, experiences in his own heart, and apparent inconsistencies in the Bible. There was also a virus whose existence he did no

it falls, nor how unstable the wall until it crumbles. And so in the moral natures

s the wall tottering; a whisper, a smile, even the sight of

g open on the table, hurled it frantically at the snake and flung himself out of

appetites, to satisfy my normal desires. It was for this that life was given. I have too long believed that duty consisted in conquering nature. I no