"That is because you do not consider well the nature of the service, Peggy. Have I not vowed to fight manfully under Christ's banner against sin, the world, and the devil, and continue His faithful soldier and servant unto my life's end? A soldier does not choose the nature of his service. 'Tis the very essence of a good soldier that he hath no will of his own, but goes cheerfully wherever he is sent by his commander, whether to lead a forlorn hope, or to stand sentinel at a distance from the field, or to work at an entrenchment, whether to die in a place where all men shall see and honor him, or in some obscure service, where no man shall so much as hear of him. It is all the same to him, so he does his work well. "But Christ's soldier hath this advantage, that he never can perish forgotten and unknown. He fights, conquers, and dies, if need be, under the eye of the Captain of his salvation, and when that Captain shall appear, he will receive a crown which fadeth not away. And so I say I can serve Him as well in Master Smith's shop, as here in my father's pulpit; and though I don't deny that it is a great cross to give up the thought of taking orders, yet I mean to try to bear it cheerfully, and say, through all, 'God's will be done!'" "Amen!" said a deep and sweet voice behind us, which sounded so like my father's that both Dick and I started and turned round in a hurry. There stood a grave and comely gentleman, a dignified clergyman, by his dress. He had a most reverend and noble air, but his face was full of kindliness, not without a shrewd suspicion of humor and even of sarcasm. "I crave your pardon, my young ones, for listening to your conversation," said he, with a courteous air, "but I caught a few words, and was really too much interested to interrupt you. I conclude," he added, glancing at my mourning dress, "that you are the children of the late excellent rector of this parish. I knew him at college, and can see some resemblance in your faces. But may I ask you, my young friend," he said, turning to Richard, "why you give up the thought of taking orders?" "Surely, sir," answered Dick, "it is no secret. My father died poor, and I have no means of gaining the necessary education." "But there are places—however, we will not talk longer here, since the air is something damp," said the strange gentleman, interrupting himself. "My friend Mr. Carey hath made me free of his study, where there is a fire, and we can talk there with more comfort and propriety." As he spoke, he opened the door of the little vaulted room next the vestry, which my father had caused to be fitted up as a study. He had spent a great deal of money upon it, for dear father knew not how to save when he had the gold to spend. The stranger invited us to sit, and placed a chair for me, as if I had been some great lady.