"'And at last, the wish of the peasants seems to be fulfilled. There comes up an uncommonly violent thunder-storm; the rain pours down from heaven in streams, as if the clouds had burst; so that regular brooks are flowing down the village streets. Then the envious people triumph; there is no mistake about it, the field lying so exposed on the slope of the hill must be thoroughly laid waste. Those two men, it may well be, tremble too, for the storm is too frightful; but lose heart they do not; on the contrary, the need drives them to more ardent prayer: "Lord, help, and do not let the field be spoiled. Thou art the strong, almighty God of Sabaoth, and Thy hand is not shortened, but Thine arm is stretched out still." So they prayed; and when the storm was past they went confidently up to the field, a good many accompanying them; and as they were going, and while the many who went along could hardly hide their delight, they were singing in their hearts the hymn-- "Was mein Gott will gescheh allzeit, Sein Wille ist der beste; Zu helfen ist Er dem bereit, Der an Ihn glaübet feste."'" "Ditto, we don't understand that." "It means about this. 'The will of my God be done always. His will is the best. He is always ready to help them who rest on Him in firm faith.'" "'With that they are able to look up cheerfully and they are of good courage. And when they arrive at the field, what do they see? The entire field is unharmed. The stalks of grain lift their heads up bravely, as if they too would give thanks for the beautiful rain which has so refreshed them. But on both sides of the field a whole stream has poured down from the hill, and nothing is to be seen but a wild mass of rocks and stones. Whose is the strong hand which seized the rain flood, and parted it just before it came to the field, and so gently led it down on both sides of the field? Moved to the depth of their hearts, our two friends were constrained to cry out--"The Lord, He is the God! The Lord, He is the God! Give our God the glory." And it is to be hoped that many of the unbelievers, if not aloud, yet quietly joined in the prayer with them. "'And now, when the harvest was finished, and the farmer brought to the pastor what he had promised to give the Lord of the produce of the field, and then also the pastor's vow was made known to the farmer, the two fell upon their knees again and thanked the Lord for His goodness, because His mercy endureth for ever. Must not such gifts to the heathen go with God's special blessing resting upon them?'" "Is that all?" said Maggie. "That is all," said Meredith smiling. "I do not know what to make of that story," said Flora. "Why?" "Storms come from natural causes." "Oh, do they?" said Meredith. "You do not believe then what the psalm says--'He commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind'"---- "But that is poetry."