‘But the vision of green pasture, of waters that would quench the parching thirst of the desert, it seemed a mirage,—and no good Shepherd waded out to me in my desert. Sometimes I found other wanderers, who asked of me the waters, and this seemed to fill my heart with deeper anguish; like Hagar, I could die in the wilderness, but I could not see my child die. So I tried to escape, but I could not, and I was obliged to lift my eyes to Heaven for their sakes. I did not tell them that what I took for mirage was real,—I did not try to turn stones into bread, I could only tell them of what I felt must be the creed of Goethe, that creation is the garment of God, and these shores of earth could not be all; there must be something true and substantial behind the phenomenal. The philosophy of St. John interpreted by Browning, the consciousness of love in my own nature, bore witness to the greater love of God. The Spirit within bore witness that there was a Father of spiritual life, and therefore that a divine sonship was possible for us. And as in our desolation we looked up together, it seemed as if the old truth _was_ coming back to us, but in a new way. Jesus had taught it, only we had not seen it before.... If we felt the witness of the Spirit prompting us to cry, Abba Father, and if there was a Father, this prompting must come from Him. And so I listened once more for this Voice. And I was not left alone in the desert, as I waited in my first grief. God sent to me messengers when I had lain down there in the stupefaction of spiritual sleep. They offered me angels’ food. I watered it with tears, but I took it,—I ate it, whilst praying that God would take away my life,—take it, lest I should tempt others into the stony desert. Yes, I, who had refused to take others to the Lord’s Table, because they were faint and hungry, and in the highways of the world,—I, who had thought it profane, thought now that my mere hunger gave me a right to come. If He was indeed there, He might fill the empty cruse with oil. He might hear me as I said, “We have no wine.” And I remembered as I dared to come in my unbelief, the words I had been taught, of the hungry being filled. I thought I had once been of the mighty and rich, now I knew I was weak and hungry, so I came. But I saw not the Master, only a stranger whom I knew not, for my eyes were holden, and I did not recognise Him.