refore directed your eyes to that fearful passage."

"Does the Lord then carry out His designs by means of guile?" said Peter,
with a groan. "Is not the Lord true? Would the Lord impress upon me
that I had committed a sin of which I am guiltless? Hush, Winifred!
hush! thou knowest that I have committed the sin."

"Thou hast not committed it," said Winifred, sobbing yet more violently.
"Were they my last words, I would persist that thou hast not committed
it, though, perhaps, thou wouldst, but for this chastening; it was not to
convince thee that thou hast committed the sin, but rather to prevent
thee from committing it, that the Lord brought that passage before thy
eyes. He is not to blame, if thou art wilfully blind to the truth and
wisdom of His ways."

"I see thou wouldst comfort me," said Peter, "as thou hast often before
attempted to do. I would fain ask the young man his opinion."

"I have not yet heard the whole of your history," said I.

"My story is nearly told," said Peter; "a few words will complete it. My
wife endeavoured to console and reassure me, using the arguments which
you have just heard her use, and many others, but in vain. Peace nor
comfort came to my breast. I was rapidly falling into the depths of
despair; when one day Winifred said to me, 'I see thou wilt be lost if we
remain here. One resource only remains. Thou must go forth, my husband,
into the wide world, and to comfort thee I will go with thee.' 'And what
can I do in the wide world?' said I, despondingly. 'Much,' replied
Winifred, 'if you will but exert yourself; much good canst thou do with
the blessing of God.' Many things of the same kind she said to me; and
at last I arose from the earth to which God had smitten me, and disposed
of my property in the best way I could, and went into the world. We did
all the good we were able, visiting the sick, ministering to the sick,
and praying with the sick. At last I became celebrated as the possessor
of a great gift of prayer. And people urged me to preach, and Winifred
urged me too, and at last I consented, and I preached. I--I--outcast
Peter, became the preacher, Peter Williams. I, the lost one, attempted
to show others the right road. And in this way I have gone on for
thirteen years, preaching and teaching, visiting the sick, and
ministering to them, with Winifred by my side hearkening me on.
Occasionally I am visited with fits of indescribable agony, generally on
the n