for them, be it the burden of some call, or work, or duty, or of
resistance to some temptation, or the struggle against sin or vice. It
comes to all of us, and not once only, but many times over, this hour of
darkness; and it will continue to come so long as the flesh is weak. And
it is at such moments that a man is the better for going with the prophet
into this Horeb, the mount of God, making Elijah's vision his own vision,
and renewing his strength, at the same Divine source. How often it
happens to men, to boys, to all alike, that they flee into the desert,
away from the post of present duty, away from the face of difficulties
which they cannot or will not stand up against, away from the moments of
trial and discipline. And, seeing that our life is not and cannot be a
solitary thing, seeing that the pulsations of each individual's life are
creating other pulsations which answer them back in other lives, we know
not where or how many, whenever we thus shrink away from our duty, when
we turn our back upon it, or despond about it, when we become deaf to the
higher calls, we are, in fact, crying to God to be relieved of our
service to Him and to our fellows. And it is a happy thing for our life
if He does not answer us according to our cry, and let us go into the
wilderness, and leave us alone there.

This voice, following us with the question, "What doest them here?" is
the evidence that God has not abandoned us.

"What doest thou here, Elijah?" How often must this voice have followed
the monk into his solitude, refusing to be silenced, piercing through all
the false notions about a man's relationship to his fellow-men, warning
each soul that it cannot separate itself from the great tide of universal
life.

And the voice comes to us, the same warning voice of God, whenever we