Stepping softly to the bedside, he found his boy sleeping sweetly, with a smile upon his face that told of perfect peace. His hand was laid upon the open Bible. Led by an impulse of curiosity, as we purblind mortals say, he stooped down and read, where Philip’s fingers lay, “There be many that say, Who will show us any good? Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us.... I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, for thou only, O Lord, makest me to dwell in safety.” “In peace,” said the squire, and looking at the restful countenance of his son, he read a commentary there that he could neither misunderstand nor dispute. He sat and pondered as the minutes passed, the subject of thoughts and emotions new and strange. Nor could he break the spell until Philip, waking refreshed and happy, turned to him with a gleam of glad surprise, and said,-- “My father!” “What is it, my son?” “Nay, nothing; nothing but the joy of having you by my side.” The glad old man, melted as his stedfast nature had never been, longed to do something in his great love. “Can I do anything for you?” said he. “Yes. Read to me a little,” pointing to his Bible. “Read the third chapter in St. John’s Gospel.” In this way the sceptical parent was brought into potent contact with the Great Teacher’s answer to another doubter, who asked, “How can these things be?” So the days passed by, the overhanging cloud caused by the dark deed in Thurston Wood had not density enough to shadow them very greatly. Both father and son believed that God would bring forth Philip’s righteousness as the light, and His judgment as the noonday. Philip silently and continuously prayed that the Spirit would take of the things of God and show them to his father’s mind and heart. Who shall doubt the answer to those pleadings of filial love? God’s providence and grace are both pledged to the fulfilment of believing prayer. The citadel so long impregnable to the assaults of Gospel truth was trembling under the combined influences at work. Will it yield to these? If not, the Lord hath yet other arrows in His quiver. “He hath bent his bow and made it ready, and ordained his arrows at the heart of” those who resist him. But if those hearts lay down their weapons and submit to Him, though the arrow may be sped, it shall wound to heal, and “dividing asunder between the joints and the marrow,” the sword of the Spirit shall open a way for the life-giving balsam of His own precious blood! CHAPTER XXVII. HANNAH OLLIVER’S “YOUNG MAN.” “The branch is stooping to the hand, And pleasant to behold; Yet gather not, although its fruit Be streaked with hues of gold. For bitter ashes lurk concealed Beneath that golden skin; And though the coat be smooth, there lies But rottenness within.” _Smedley._