d her, my will shall not be set
against his. I cannot be happy, but I will bow my head and let his waves
and his billows go over me. If there is such a God, he knows what a pain
I bear. His will be done. Jesus thought it well that his will should
be done to the death. Even if there be no God, it will be grand to be a
disciple of such a man, to do as he says, think as he thought--perhaps
come to feel as he felt.'

My reader may wonder that one so young should have been able to think so
practically--to the one point of action. But he was in earnest, and what
lay at the root of his character, at the root of all that he did, felt,
and became, was childlike simplicity and purity of nature. If the sins
of his father were mercifully visited upon him, so likewise were the
grace and loveliness of his mother. And between the two, Falconer had
fared well.

As he descended the mountain, the one question was--his calling. With
the faintest track to follow, with the clue of a spider's thread to
guide him, he would have known that his business was to set out at once
to find, and save his father. But never since the day when the hand
of that father smote him, and Mary St. John found him bleeding on the
floor, had he heard word or conjecture concerning him. If he were to set
out to find him now, it would be to search the earth for one who might
have vanished from it years ago. He might as well search the streets of
a great city for a lost jewel. When the time came for him to find his
father, if such an hour was written in the decrees of--I dare not say
Fate, for Falconer hated the word--if such was the will of God, some
sign would be given him--that is, some hint which he could follow with
action. As he thought and thought it became gradually plainer that he
must begin his obedience by getting ready for anything that God might
require of him. Therefore he must go on learning till the call came.

But he shivered at the thought of returning to Aberdeen. Might he not
continue his studies in Germany? Would that not be as good--possibly,
from the variety of the experience, better? But how was it to be
decided? By submitting the matter to the friend who made either
possible. Dr. Anderson had been to him as a father: he would be guided
by his pleasure.

He wrote, therefore, to Dr. Anderson, saying that he would return at
once if he wished it, but that he would greatly prefer going to a German
university for two years. The doctor replied th