till she shared her soft and holy heart with her son, as his
father had shared his clear and deep, if too unlearned, head.

We have one grandmother at least signalised in the Bible; but no
grandfather, so far as I remember. But amends are made for that in the
_Holy War_. For Think-well would never have been the man he became had
it not been for the old Recorder, his grandfather on his mother's side.
Some superficial people said that there was too much severity in the old
Recorder; but his grandson who knew him best, never said that. He was
the best of men, his grandson used to stand up for him, and say, I shall
never forget the debt I owe him. It was he who taught me first to make
conscience of my thoughts. Indeed, as for my secret thoughts, I had
taken no notice of them till that summer afternoon walk home from church,
when we sat down among the bushes and he showed me on the spot the way.
And I can say to his memory that scarce for one waking hour have I any
day forgotten the lesson. The lesson how to make a conscience, as he
said, of all my thoughts about myself and about all my neighbours. Such,
then, were Think-well's more immediate ancestors, and such was the
inheritance that they all taken together had left him.

Think-well! Think-well! My brethren, what do you think, what do you
say, as you hear that fine name? I will tell you what I think and say.
If I overcome, and have that white stone given to me, and in that stone a
new name written which no man shall know saving he that receiveth it; and
if it were asked me here to-night what I would like my new name to be, I
would say on the spot, Let it be THINK-WELL! Let my new name among the
saved and the sanctified before the throne be THINK-WELL! As, O God, it
will be the bottomless pit to me, if I am forsaken of Thee for ever to my
evil thoughts. Send down and prevent it. Stir up all Thy strength and
give commandment to prevent it. Do Thou prevent it. For, after I have
done all,--after I have made all my overt acts blameless, after I have
tamed my tongue which no man can tame--all that only the more throws my
thoughts into a very devil's garden, a thicket of hell, a secret swamp of
sin to the uttermost. How, then, am I ever to attain to that white stone
and that shining name? And that in a world of such truth that every
man's name and title there shall be a strict and true and entirely
accurate and adequate description and exposition of the very tho