"It was ordered to be observed. The distinction was felt before."
They were again silent a moment, while the thrush's song filled the air with liquid rejoicing.
"That bird," said Diana slowly, "sings as if he had got somewhere above all the sins and troubles and fights of life; I mean, as if he were a human being who had got there."
"That will do," said the minister.
"But that's impossible; so why should he sing it?"
"Take it the other way," said the minister, smiling.
"You mean"—said Diana, looking up, for she had sat down before the open window, and he stood by her side;—"you mean, he would not sing a false note?"
"Nor God make a promise he would not fulfil. Come up-stairs."
"But, Basil!—how could the bird's song be a promise from God?"
"Think;—he gave the song, Diana. As has been said of visible things in nature, so it may be said of audible things,—every one of them is the expression of a thought of God."