“Let me think what could be done with them. It seems to me,” said the clergyman, after a minute’s consideration, “that Mr. Hope might allow them, if such were really your desire, to be brought up under the gardener at the castle.”
“That is an excellent plan!” cried Ernest, clapping his hands; “there they would always be under your eye; you would teach them also the narrow way to heaven!”
“There might be some objections to the plan,” said Mr. Ewart, reflecting; “it might place you uncomfortably to have those near the castle who had known you in such a different position.”
“It will be good for me,” said Ernest, with animation. “If I ever am tempted to be lifted up with pride, I shall have but to look at them and remember what I was; and if anything can humble me, that will. Will you kindly write to Mr. Hope directly?”
“There is no need to do that,” replied the clergyman; “I have heard from him to-day, and came now to tell you that it is his wish that as soon as you are equal to moving, you and your brother should start at once for the castle.”
“Oh, I am ready for anything!” cried Ernest; “I mean that I am ready to travel,” he added, correcting himself, “for my new situation I fear that I am not ready.”
“The two best introductions to any new sphere of life are—trust in God, and mistrust of ourselves.”
“Do you think that I shall have many dangers now, I mean as a pilgrim?” asked Ernest.
“You will have dangers still, though of a different kind. Your battle-field is changed, but not your enemy. The good seed in your heart was in peril before from the hot sun of trial beating upon it; now God grant that the cares, riches, and pleasures of this world may not spring up as thorns to choke it! Your great refuge must be self-examination and prayer; with these, by God’s grace, you will safely walk still on the slippery high path before you.”
“I trust that nothing will make me forget that I am a pilgrim,” said Ernest.