"I can't make you understand it, sir."
"Why can't you? who can?" said he quickly.
"It is written, Mr. Simlins,—'They shall be all taught of God.'"—She shewed him the place. "And it is written, 'Come, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, and to the house of the God of Jacob; and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths.'—That is it. If you are willing to walk in his paths, he will shew them to you." Faith looked eagerly at the farmer, and he looked at her. Neither heart was hid from the other.
"But supposin' I was willin'—which I be, so fur's I know—I don't know what they be no more'n a child. How am I goin' to find 'em out?"
Faith's eyes filled quick as she turned over the leaves again;—was it by sympathy alone that occasion came for the rough hand to pass once or twice hastily across those that were looking at her? Without speaking, Faith shewed him the words,—"If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine."
"That is the question, dear Mr. Simlins. On that 'if' it all hangs." The farmer took the book into his own hands and sat looking steadily at the words.
"Well," said he putting it back on her lap—"supposin' the 'if' 's all right—Go ahead, Faith."
"Then the way is clear for you to do that; and it's all easy. But the first thing is here—the invitation of Jesus himself."
"'Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.'"
"You see," she went on very gently,—"he bids you learn of him—so he is ready to teach you. If you are only willing to take his yoke upon you,—to be his servant and own it,—he will shew you what to do, step by step, and help you in every one."