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NEVER, perhaps, in the course of his life had Willy felt happier than when he had fairly got beyond the lodge-gate, and found himself upon the dusty high road.
There was pleasure in escaping from present annoyance; there was pleasure in the thought of a quiet interview with a friend; there was pleasure in bringing comfort to a sufferer who needed it; and there was pleasure-oh! what pleasure! -in the sense of victory over his fears. He had been helped; he had not disgraced his Christian profession; he had acted as his mother would have wished him to act; and the eye of his King was upon him. Even the feeling of his own weakness and proneness to fall was not sufficient to damp this joy; he had found that strength may be given to the weak-that it will be given to those who seek it from above.