The dean could assure him that he well knew these lonely hours of thought, and great was the blessing that might be found in them; but he would venture to suggest what he knew from his own experience, that the problems which a man worked out alone were not always the most trustworthy.  He would, therefore, remind him of the passage where we are recommended to confess to each other, which seemed to suggest working in fellowship, and giving each other mutual assistance.

Johnsen answered that that was the very reason why he wished to speak to the congregation.

The two sat on opposite sides of the dean’s table, regarding each other attentively.  Johnsen was pale and had something nervous about his manner, which seemed to betoken a wish to bring the interview to a close.

Dean Sparre sat leaning back in his armchair, and in his hand he held a large ivory paper-knife, which he used to emphasize his words; not, indeed, for the purpose of gesticulating or striking on the table, but every now and then, when he came to some particular point, he drew the knife up and down on the sheets of paper which lay before him.

To speak the thoughts plainly before the congregation was certainly desirable in itself, and entirely in accordance with Scripture.  But it was quite easy to imagine that a man might want to make other confessions which should not be for every ear.  The Church had, therefore, another and more restricted form of confession, which was not only just as much in accordance with Scripture, but might often be still better adapted to ease the troubled heart.

Johnsen got up to take his leave.  He felt a great wish to speak before the congregation.  It was, in his opinion, of the greatest importance that he should have a perfectly clear idea of his own views, and that there should be nothing obscure or insincere between him and his hearers.

The dean also got up, and shook hands on wishing him good-bye.  He gave his young friend his best wishes for his undertaking, and hoped he would bear in mind that he, as dean, was always ready to assist him in every way, if he should at any time feel the need of his services.

“You will bear this in mind, my young friend, will you not?” said the old dean, with a fatherly look.

Johnsen muttered something about thanks as he hurried out of the room.  He was no longer in the frame of mind in which he had been during the last few weeks.  The peaceful, genial air of the dean’s study, with its well-filled bookshelves, had had a wonderful effect upon him, as had also the dean, with his manner, which was at the same time so mild and so earnest.  The mind of the young clergyman seemed, as it were, softened by an influence which he did not clearly understand, and the power of which he was not willing to recognize.