word you said about it."

"Perhaps that is because you have no right to understand it."

"I thought all Protestants had a right to understand every word of the
Bible," she returned.

"If they can," I rejoined. "But last Sunday, for instance, I did not expect
anybody there to understand a certain bit of my sermon, except your mamma
and Thomas Weir."

"How funny! What part of it was that?"

"O! I'm not going to tell you. You have no right to understand it. But most
likely you thought you understood it perfectly, and it appeared to you, in
consequence, very commonplace."

"In consequence of what?"

"In consequence of your thinking you understood it."

"O, papa dear! you're getting worse and worse. It's not often I ask you
anything--and on my birthday too! It is really too bad of you to bewilder
my poor little brains in this way."

"I will try to make you see what I mean, my pet. No talk about an idea that
you never had in your head at all, can make you have that idea. If you had
never seen a horse, no description even, not to say no amount of remark,
would bring the figure of a horse before your mind. Much more is this the
case with truths that belong to the convictions and feelings of the heart.