"It was a merciful preservation. I hope you feel that it is a solemn thing to look Death in the face."
"I am not afraid of death," Joseph replied.
"You mean the physical pang. But death includes what comes after it,—-judgment. That is a very awful thought."
"It may be to evil men; but I have done nothing to make me fear it."
"You have never made an open profession of faith; yet it may be that grace has reached you," said Mr. Chaffinch. "Have you found your Saviour?"
"I believe in him with all my soul!" Joseph exclaimed; "but you mean something else by 'finding' him. I will be candid with you, Mr. Chaffinch. The last sermon I heard you preach, a month ago, was upon the nullity of all good works, all Christian deeds; you called them 'rags, dust, and ashes,' and declared that man is saved by faith alone. I have faith, but I can't accept a doctrine which denies merit to works; and you, unless I accept it, will you admit that I have 'found' Christ?"
"There is but One Truth!" exclaimed Mr. Chaffinch, very severely.
"Yes," Joseph answered, reverently, "and that is only perfectly known to God."
The clergyman was more deeply annoyed than he cared to exhibit. His experience had been confined chiefly to the encouragement of ignorant souls, willing to accept his message, if they could only be made to comprehend it, or to the conflict with downright doubt and denial. A nature so seemingly open to the influences of the Spirit, yet inflexibly closed to certain points of doctrine, was something of a problem to him. He belonged to a class now happily becoming scarce, who, having been taught to pace a reasoned
