“We must walk by faith, Edith, and not by sight,” replied Mr. Carroll, in a tone that indicated some small measure of impatience.

“A true faith, dear husband!” said Mrs. Carroll tenderly, while a slight suffusion appeared about her eyes.

“A true faith is ever enlightened and guided by reason.  When reason plainly points the way, faith bids us walk on with unfaltering steps.”

“And does not reason now point the way?” asked Mr. Carroll.”

“I think not.  From our school we receive nearly seven hundred dollars; and we have not found that sum too large for our support.  I know that I work very hard, and that I find it as much as I can do to keep all things comfortable.”

“But remember that we have rent to pay.”

“I know.  Still a little over five hundred dollars remain.  And the present offer is only three hundred.  Edward, we cannot live upon this sum.  Think of our three children.  And my health, you know, is not good.  I am not so strong as I was, and cannot go through as much.”

The wife’s voice trembled.

“Poor, weak doubter!” said Mr. Carroll, in a tender, yet reproving voice.  “Does not He who calls us to this labor know our wants?  And is not He able to supply them?  Have you forgotten that the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof?  Whose are the cattle upon a thousand hills?  Did not God feed Elijah by ravens?  Did the widow’s oil fail?  Be not doubtful but believing, Edith!  And what if we do have to meet a few hardships, and endure many privations?  Are these to be counted against the salvation of even one precious soul?  The harvest is great, hut the laborers are few.”

Mrs. Carroll knew her husband well enough to be assured that if he believed it to be his duty to accept a call from Lapland or the Indian Ocean, he would go.  Yet, so strongly did both reason and feeling oppose the contemplated change, that she could not help speaking out what was in her mind.

“The day of miracles is past,” she replied.

“We must not expect God to send us bread from heaven if we go into a wilderness, nor water from the rock, if we wander away to some barren desert.  This Parish of Y—­cannot afford living to any but a single man, and, therefore, it seems to me that none but a single man should accept their call.  Wait longer, Edward.  We have every comfort for our children, and you are engaged in a highly useful employment.  When the right field for ministerial labor offers, God will call you in a manner so clear that you need not feel a doubt on the subject.”

“I feel no doubt now,” said Mr. Carroll.  “I recognise the voice of my Master, and must obey.  And I will obey without fear.  Our bread will be given and our water sure.  Ah!  Edith.  If you could only see with me, eye to eye.  If you could only take up your cross hopefully, and walk I by my side, how light would seem all the burden I have to bear?”