The Seaboard Parish, Complete. George MacDonald
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of the fulfilment of every aspiration. I turned and looked at Wynnie. She stood pleased but listless amidst that which lifted me into the heaven of the Presence.
“Don’t you enjoy all this grandeur, Wynnie?”
“I told you I was very wicked, papa.”
“And I told you not to say so, Wynnie.”
“You see I cannot enjoy it, papa. I wonder why it is.”
“I suspect it is because you haven’t room, Wynnie.”
“I know you mean something more than I know, papa.”
“I mean, my dear, that it is not because you are wicked, but because you do not know God well enough, and therefore your being, which can only live in him, is ‘cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in.’ It is only in him that the soul has room. In knowing him is life and its gladness. The secret of your own heart you can never know; but you can know Him who knows its secret. Look up, my darling; see the heavens and the earth. You do not feel them, and I do not call upon you to feel them. It would be both useless and absurd to do so. But just let them look at you for a moment, and then tell me whether it must not be a blessed life that creates such a glory as this All.”
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