"That is perfectly true. But you are taking the letter for the spirit, and that, I suspect, in more ways than one. The religion does not lie in not being sure about anything, but in a loving desire that the will of God in the matter, whatever it be, may be done. And if Harry has not learned yet to care about the will of God, what is the good of coming down upon him that way, as if that would teach him in the least. When he loves God, then, and not till then, will he care about his will. Nor does the religion lie in saying, _if the Lord will_, every time anything is to be done. It is a most dangerous thing to use sacred words often. It makes them so common to our ear that at length, when used most solemnly, they have not half the effect they ought to have, and that is a serious loss. What the Apostle means is, that we should always be in the mood of looking up to God and having regard to his will, not always writing D.V. for instance, as so many do--most irreverently, I think--using a Latin contraction for the beautiful words, just as if they were a charm, or as if God would take offence if they did not make the salvo of acknowledgment. It seems to me quite heathenish. Our hearts ought ever to be in the spirit of those words; our lips ought to utter them rarely. Besides, there are some things a man might be pretty sure the Lord wills." "It sounds fine, sir; but I'm not sure that I understand what you mean to say. It sounds to me like a darkening of wisdom." I saw that I had irritated him, and so had in some measure lost ground. But Harry struck in-- "How _can_ you say that now, Joe? _I_ know what the parson means well enough, and everybody knows I ain't got half the brains you've got." "The reason is, Harry, that he's got something in his head that stands in the way." "And there's nothing in my head _to_ stand in the way!" returned Harry, laughing. This made me laugh too, and even Joe could not help a sympathetic grin. By this time it was getting dark. "I'm afraid, Harry, after all, you won't get through to-night." "I begin to think so too, sir. And there's Joe saying, 'I told you so,' over and over to himself, though he won't say it out like a man." Joe answered only with another grin. "I tell you what it is, Harry," I said--"you must come again on Monday. And on your way home, just look in and tell Joe's mother that I have kept him over to-morrow. The change will do him good." "No, sir, that can't he. I haven't got a clean shirt." "You can have a shirt of mine," I said. "But I'm afraid you'll want your Sunday clothes." "I'll bring them for you, Joe--before you're up," interposed Harry. "And then you can go to church with Aggy Coombes, you know." Here was just what I wanted. "Hold your tongue, Harry," said Joe angrily. "You're talking of what you don't know anything about."