“’I’ll but lie down and bleed awhile,
  And then I’ll rise and fight again.’

You must never mind being defeated, old man.  You must never say that your sins have done for you!  I don’t care what a man has done, I don’t care how cruel, wicked, sensual, evil he has been, if in the bottom of his heart he can say, ‘I belong to God, after all!’ That’s the last and worst assault of the devil, when he comes and whispers to you that you have cut yourself off from God.  You can’t do that, whatever you feel.  I have been thinking to-day of all the mistakes I have made, how I have drifted along, how I have enjoyed myself, when I might have been helping other people; what a lazy, greedy, ugly business it has all been, how little I have ever made myself do anything.  But I don’t care.  I go straight to God and I say, ’Father, I have sinned against Heaven and before Thee, and am no more worthy to be called Thy son.’  But I am His son, for all that, and I know it and He knows it; and Apollyon may straddle across the way as much as he likes, but he can’t stop me.  If he does stop me, he only sends me straight home.”

I saw the tears stand in Father Payne’s eyes, and I said hurriedly and eagerly, “Why, Father, you have done so much, for me, for all of us, for everyone you have ever had to do with.  Don’t speak so; it isn’t true, it hasn’t been a failure.  You are the only person I have met who has showed me what goodness really is.”

Father Payne pressed my arm, but he did not speak for a moment.

“You are very good to me, old man,” he said in a moment.  “I was not trying to get a testimonial out of you, you know; and of course you can’t judge how far I have fallen short of all I might have done.  But your affection and your kindness are very precious to me.  You give me a message from God!  It matters little how near the truth you are or how far away.  God doesn’t think of that.  He isn’t a hard reckoner; He’s only glad when we return to Him, and put down our tired head upon His shoulder for a little.  But even so, that isn’t the end.  As soon as we are strong again, we must begin again.  There’s plenty left to do.  The battle isn’t over because you or I are tired.  He is tired Himself, I dare say.  But it all goes on, and there is victory ahead.  Don’t forget that, dear boy.  It’s no good being heart-broken or worn out.  Rise and fight again as soon as you can.  I’m quite ready—­I haven’t had enough.  I have had an easy post, I don’t deny that.  I have suffered very little, as suffering goes; and I’m grateful for that; but we mustn’t fall in love with rest.  If we sleep, it is only that we may rise refreshed, and go off again singing.  We mustn’t be afraid of weakness and suffering, and we mustn’t be afraid of joy and strength either.  That’s treachery, you know.”