y
man can be saved, if he likes, or not?"

"Let Christ answer you--not me. `No man can come to Me, except the
Father which hath sent Me draw him.'"

"Ah! then man has no responsibility?" And Ambrose gave another wink at
us.

"Let Christ answer you again. `Ye will not come unto Me, that ye might
have life.' If they had come, you see, they might have had it."

"But how do you reconcile the two?" said Ambrose, knitting his brows.

"When the Lord commands me to reconcile them, He will show me how. But
I do not expect Him to do either, in this world. To what extent our
knowledge on such subjects may be enlarged in Heaven, I cannot venture
to say."

"But surely you must reconcile them?"

"Pardon me. I must act on them."

"Can you act on principles you cannot reconcile?"

"Certainly--if you can put full trust in their proposer. Every child
does it, every day. You will be a long while in the dark, Mr
Catterall, if you must know why a candle burns before you light it.
Better be content to have the light, and work by it."

"There are more sorts of light than one," said my Aunt Kezia.

"That is the best light by which you see clearest," was the Vicar's
answer.

"What have you got to see?" asked Ambrose.

"Your sins and your Saviour," was the reply. "And till you have looked
well at both those, Mr Catterall, and are sure that you have laid the
sins upon the Sacrifice, it is as well not to look much at anything
else."

I think Ambrose found that he was in the corner this time, and just the
kind of corner that he did not care to get in. At any rate, he said no
more.

Sophy's wedding, which took place this evening, was the quietest I ever
saw. She let Mr Liversedge say how everything should be, and he seemed
to like it as plain and simple as possible. No bridesmaids, no favours,
no dancing, no throwing the stocking, no fuss of any sort! I asked him
if he had any objection to a cake.

"None at all," said he, "so long as you don't want me to eat it. And
pray don't let us have any sugary Cupids on the top, nor any rubbish of
that sort."

So the cake was quite plain, but I took care it should be particularly
good, and Hatty made a wreath of spring flowers to put round it.

The house feels so quiet and empty now, when all is over, and Sophy
gone. Of course she is not really gone, because the Vicarage is only
across a couple of fields, and ten minutes will take us there at any
time. But she is not o