by the conversation we had had, and did not enjoy
the idea of going to bed and sleeping where one had so lately died--even
though he was a holy man. Resolving to sit up, I looked round the room,
and seeing some books on the table, took up one, which happened to be
Hare's "Mission of the Comforter." Almost the first page I glanced at
told the difference between the natural conscience and the work of the
Spirit. This I read and re-read till I understood its meaning.
The next morning as soon as breakfast was finished, I resumed the
conversation of the previous night with the additional light I had
gained on the subject. We had not talked long before Mr. Aitken said,
"Ah, my brother, you have changed your ground since last night!"
I at once confessed that I had been reading Hare's book, which he did
not know was in my room, nor even in the house. He was curious to see
it.
He then challenged me on another point, and said, "Have you peace with
God?" I answered, without hesitation, "Yes,"---for, for eight years or
more I had regarded God as my Friend. Mr. A. went on to ask me, "How did
you get peace?" "Oh," I said, "I have it continually. I get it at the
Daily Service, I get it through prayer and reading, and especially at
the Holy Communion. I have made it a rule to carry my sins there every
Sunday, and have often come away from that holy sacrament feeling as
happy and free as a bird." My friend looked surprised, but did not
dispute this part of my experience. He contented himself by asking me
quietly, "And how long does your peace last?" This question made me
think. I said, "I suppose, not a week, for I have to do the same thing
every Sunday." He replied, "I thought so." Opening the Bible, he found
the fourth chapter of St. John, and read, "'Whosoever drinketh of this
water shall thirst again.' The woman of Samaria drew water for herself
at Jacob's well, and quenched her thirst; but she had to come again and
again to the same well. She had no idea of getting water, except by
drawin