GEORGE MORLEY.--"First let me say that I would consult your intellect on a matter which habitually attracts and engages mine--that old vexed question of the origin and uses of Evil, not only in the physical, but the moral world; it involves problems over which I would ponder for hours as a boy--on which I wrote essays as a schoolman--on which I perpetually collect illustrations to fortify my views as a theologian." "He is writing a book," thought Darrell, enviously; "and a book on such a subject will last him all his life. Happy man!" GEORGE MORLEY.--"The Pastor, you know, is frequently consulted by the suffering and oppressed; frequently called upon to answer that question in which the scepticism of the humble and the ignorant ordinarily begins: 'Why am I suffering? Why am I oppressed? Is this the justice of Providence? Has the Great Father that benign pity, that watchful care for His children, which you preachers tell us?' Ever intent on deducing examples from the lives to which the clue has become apparent, must be the Priest who has to reason with Affliction caused by no apparent fault; and where, judged by the Canons of Human justice, cloud and darkness obscure the Divine--still to 'vindicate the ways of God to man.'" DARRELL.--"A philosophy that preceded, and will outlive, all other schools. It is twin-born with the world itself. Go on; though the theme be inexhaustible, its interest never flags." GEORGE MORLEY.--"Has it struck you, Mr. Darrell, that few lives have ever passed under your survey; in which the inexpressible tenderness of the Omniscient has been more visibly clear than in that of your guest, William Losely?" DARRELL (surprised).--"Clear? To me, I confess that if ever there were an instance in which the Divine tenderness, the Divine justice, which I can never presume to doubt, was yet undiscernible to my bounded vision, it is in the instance of the very life you refer to. I see a man of admirable virtues--of a childlike simplicity of character, which makes him almost unconscious of the grandeur of his own soul--involved by a sublime self-sacrifice--by a virtue, not by a fault--in the most dreadful of human calamities--ignominious degradation;--hurled in the midday of life from the sphere of honest men--a felon's brand on his name--a vagrant in his age; justice at last, but tardy and niggard, and giving him but little joy when it arrives; because, ever thinking only of others, his heart is wrapped in a child whom he cannot make happy in the way in which his hopes have been set!--George-no, your illustration might be turned by a sceptic into an argument against you."