I met Mr. Claremont the next day, as I was going to see one of Miss Jane's sick people, and I ventured to tell him how much I had felt his sermon.
"But does it not require very great wisdom in speaking to others?" I asked.
"Undoubtedly," he said; "there is a time to speak, and a time to keep silence."
"But with me, Mr. Claremont," I said, "it always seems the time to keep silence."
"Have you been looking out for an opportunity?" he said. "Ready to speak and longing to speak, whenever and as soon as God shall give you one?"
"Hardly that," I said; "I have often thought I ought to speak, but have always persuaded myself that it was not the right time to do it."
"Ah!" he said. "Perhaps if you look carefully within, Miss Lindsay, you will find that at the bottom of it all there has been a little cowardice, a little unwillingness to be brave for the Master's sake—please forgive me for saying so—but I have often found it so myself. Often, when I have neglected speaking to others about their souls, I have found that it was not from want of opportunity, but from want of courage to use the opportunities that were given me."
"Yes," I said, "I believe you are right."
"Pray for opportunities to be given you, be on the look-out for opportunities, and use the opportunities as soon as ever they occur, and you will, I am sure, Miss Lindsay, find that there is indeed a time to speak, as well as a time to be silent."
