He asked me if I ever prayed, and I was
shy; I could not tell him, because I only prayed for him. It was easier
to say that sometimes I reviled. Ah! why can we not be true to
ourselves?"
"But I can't always pray," she went on sorrowfully; "only sometimes;
generally when I am in church. The thought of him comes over me then,
and a great longing to have him beside me, kneeling, with his heart
made tender, and his soul purified and uplifted to God as mine is,
possesses me--a longing so great that it fills my whole being, and
finds a voice: 'My God! my God! give him to me!'"
"'Angels of God in heaven! give him to me! give him to me!'" I
answered, bitterly.
"Yes, I remember," she rejoined, "I said it in my arrogant ignorance. I
did not understand, and this is different."
"It is always _different_ in our own case," I answered. "Do you
remember that passage Ralph Waldo Emerson quotes from Lord Bacon:
'Moral qualities rule the world, but at short distances the senses are
despotic'? it seems to me that when you call upon God in that spirit
you are worshipping Him with your senses only.
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