open; the
warm summer air came in, and over the hills and the lowland the
brilliance and glow of the evening sunlight was just at its brightest.
Diana sat gazing out, while her thoughts went wandering. Suddenly she
pulled them up; and her question was rather a departure, though
standing in a certain negative connection with them.

"Basil, I can't make out just what _faith_ is."

"Cannot you?"

"No. Can you help me? The Bible says, '_believe_,' '_believe_.' I
believe. I believe everything it tells me, and you tell me; but I have
not faith."

"How do you know that?"

"If I had, I should be a Christian."

"And you think you are not?"

"I am sure I am not."

"Are you willing?"

"I think--I am willing," Diana answered slowly, looking out into the
sunlight.

"If you are right, then faith must be something more than mere belief."

"What more is it?" she said eagerly, turning her face towards him now.

"I think the heart has its part in it as well as the head, and it is
with the heart that the difficulty lies. In true Bible faith, the heart
gives its confidence where the intellect has given its assent. '_With
the heart_ man believeth unto righteousness.' That is what the Lord
wants;--our personal trust in him; unreserved and limitless trust."

"Trust?" said Diana. "Then why cannot I give it? why don't I?"

"That is the question to be answered. But, Di, the heart cannot yield
that confident trust, so long as there is any point in dispute between
it and God; so long as there is any consciousness of holding back
something from him or refusing something to him. Disobedience and trust
cannot go together. It is not the child who is standing out in
rebellion who can stretch out his hand for his father's gifts, and know
that they will be given."

"Do you think I am rebelling, Basil?"

"I cannot see into your heart, Di."

"What could I be 'holding back' from God?"

"Unconditional surrender."

"Surrender of what?"

"Yourself--your will. When you have made that surrender, there will be
no difficulty about trusting. There never is."

Diana turned to the window again, and leaning her head on her hand, sat
motionless for a long time. Sunlight left the bottom lands and crept up
the hills and faded out of the sky. Dusk and dews of twilight fell all
around, and the dusk deepened till the stars began to shine out here
and there. Sweet summer scents came in on the dew-freshened air; sweet
chirrup of insects made their