"Then fear destroys peace," continued the captain, "and I believe that it does so to a greater extent than does any other passion which troubles the soul, remorse only excepted. If we literally and fully obeyed the command so often repeated in Scripture, to hope and to be not afraid, a mountain of misery would be removed at once and cast into the sea. If you do not mind a personal application of the subject, would you, my dear child, feel uneasy at going to a house which is called haunted, if you realized that God fills all space, and that you are everywhere under His loving protection?" Emmie still continued silent, looking out of the carriage window. Her feelings were those of deep mortification. That she, earnestly pious as she was, should virtually be accused of want of faith, that her deficiency in this first requisite of religion should have been so glaring as to have attracted the notice of a partial relative, was a trial the more painful from being totally unexpected. "Bunyan represents Mistrust, the parent of unreasonable fear, as a robber," pursued the captain, referring again to that allegory which gives so wondrously true a picture of man's spiritual state. "We first meet Mistrust in company with Timorous, and their object is to discourage, to frighten, to make Christian start back from the perils which would meet him if he pursued the path of duty; when we next hear of Mistrust, he is in company with Guilt, and together they rob Little-faith of his treasure." "Yes, mistrust does rob us of our peace," said Emmie with a sigh. "And now, let me touch on my third point, even at the risk of giving some pain," said the captain. "Mistrust not only hinders usefulness, and mars peace, but prevents our glorifying our Maker as we might otherwise do. Is not the inconsistency of His children dishonouring to God? And is it not inconsistent to avow our belief that our Heavenly Father loves us--cares for us--is about our path and our bed, and yet to be as full of unreasonable terrors as if, like the fool, we said 'there is no God'? The Christian knows that Christ hath 'abolished death;' he knows that to depart from earth is to enter into rest; that light, and life, and glory await the redeemed of the Lord. Is it not inconsistent, I repeat, in one who believes all this, to shrink with unconcealed terror from the barest possibility that the time for his going home may be hastened, even a little? The natural effect of strong faith would be to make the righteous 'bold as a lion.'" "Uncle, you judge me very hardly," murmured Emmie, ready to burst into tears.