"WHAT WOULD YOU DO, DEAR?"


She joined in his laugh albeit, there was a tender look in her eyes.
After a moment, she said, gently:--

"It is not scheming, Evan; I am only trying to set about the work for
which I have been chosen. I'll tell you how it all came to me. I was
reading--my morning reading, you know--after you had gone; taking little
dips here and there in the fashion that you think is so unsystematic,
and I came upon this verse: 'He is a chosen vessel unto me,' you know,
about Paul? Well, it came to me with a sudden sense of awe and beauty,
the being chosen of God to do a great work. I stopped reading to think
it out; what a grand moment it must have been to Paul when he realized
it. And I began to feel almost sorry that we lived in such different
times, with no such opportunities! I stopped right in the midst of my
folly to remember that I was as certainly chosen of God as ever Paul
was; for assuredly I did not come to him of myself, nor begin to love
him of myself, and therefore he must indeed have chosen me; and I
wondered whether probably each Christian had not a work to do as
definite as Paul's--a work that would be given to no other, unless
indeed the chosen one failed. I did not want to fail, and I asked God
not to let me. Then, of course, I set to wondering what my work, or my
part of some other person's work, could be. It was the morning after you
had told me that about Ester Ried. You cannot think how that impressed
me. I could not get away from the wonderment as to how her work was
prospering, and whether there were chosen ones enough, or if there might
possibly be a little place for me. I couldn't settle anything, and
finally I decided to look at Paul's work a little while. Of course, it
was not reasonable to suppose that the duties of the great apostle had