"My thought was this, as I stood and looked that first morning on those motionless figures, dressed in armour, that had been used, now only shadows, as it were, of what once had been—that each one of us living and breathing, and enjoying life had a set of armour which we ought to put on, but which often lay hidden away, rusty and useless, because we disregarded the message our great Captain had sent us—sent to each one who loves and serves Him—'Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and, having done all, to stand.'"
"Oh, I see now!" said John.
"You do not see all," answered Agnes, gently. "That old knight in the corner is not my knight, for I have pulled mine to pieces."
"Have you?" asked Hugh, regretfully.
"Yes," said Agnes. "Here is his armour, hanging up against the wall. I asked Uncle if I might divide his armour between us six, and he willingly gave me leave. Now, what I want to know is this—which of us is willing, earnestly and faithfully, to take his or her share of this invisible armour, and begin this very day to clasp on one piece at any rate, that so we may make the first step towards 'taking unto us the whole armour of God.'"
"But, Agnes," objected John, "many of us—all, I hope—have taken the great step of enlisting under the Captain; you do not mean that?"
"Oh no," answered Agnes quickly, "we are all soldiers; but we fail to put on the armour God has appointed in order that we may be able to stand! We walk along satisfied in our own strength, far too often."
"Oh, that's all right," answered John earnestly. "I was only afraid lest for the sake of an illustration, and a very nice idea, Agnes, any one might forget for a moment that, ere we can be soldiers, we must be redeemed by precious blood."
"I did not mean that," said Agnes, "but was thinking of ourselves, because I hope we all home been washed in that precious blood."
"Then what is it you want us to undertake so seriously?" asked Hugh from his dark corner.