The proving comes afterward.”

“How could one ever be willing to trust in something one wasn’t sure about?”

He smiled.

“Did you ever take a ride in an airplane?”

“Oh yes, two or three times. In fact, I’ve been considering whether I won’t go back to college that way.”

“But have you tested the machinery? Did you go over the engine? Do you know the mechanic who made it? Can you be perfectly sure there is not a flaw somewhere that may cause a terrible accident?”

“Why, no, of course not. But others have gone up and come down in safety. The planes are tested. The accidents are very few.”

“Ah, just so. You believe the plane is all right. You do not know yourself but nevertheless you are willing to trust yourself to the plane. Well, take this matter of trusting God the same way. Others have tried Him. Old saints throughout the ages have given witness that He has sustained them through trials, has always kept His promises even unto death. Sinners have accepted Him and been utterly changed by Him. Why could you not swing off and trust Him in the same way? Haven’t you known someone that you are sure has been happy in trusting God?”

“Oh yes, Grandmother, I suppose. At least she banks a lot on such things, although she doesn’t talk as you do. I don’t believe she even knows that line you’re giving me. She thinks if you join the church the trick is done. But she’s old, of course. She’s about come to the end. Maybe when I get there I might feel that way, too.”

“I wish you knew me well enough to believe what I say.” He smiled his winning smile. “I’d like to tell you what the Lord Jesus has done for me, has been to me, since I’ve taken Him for my Savior. I’m young. And I can testify that I’ve never had such joy in my life as since I knew the Lord.”

Constance, with a deep restlessness in her soul, studied the face of the young man before her.

“You’re different from anybody I ever met,” she said speculatively. “I wonder why?”

“If I’m different it’s only because He’s saved me.”

“Do you mean you’ve always been this way?” asked Constance, studying him thoughtfully. “How come?”

“No,” he said, “only about two years.”

“But,” she said, frowning, puzzled, “don’t you miss a lot out of life taking a line like this?”

“Not a thing,” he said earnestly. “I’m finding out every day how much I missed before I was saved.”

“But I don’t understand,” said Constance after a moment’s puzzled silence. “You speak as if you were perfectly sure you were saved. How can you possibly know that?”

“Because He has said it, and I believe Him,” said Seagrave jubilantly. “Look, here are the words,” and he drew out a little, soft leather book from his inner pocket and fluttered over the leaves. “Here it is: ‘He that believeth hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life.’”

Constance took the book and read the passage over slowly and at last handed it back to him.

“A great many people don’t believe the Bible is anything but a book,” she said with a superior tone.

“Yes, and a great many people don’t know what it means to be saved. Listen to this one”—he fluttered the tiny leaves again and read—” ‘If our gospel is hid, it is hid to them that are lost!’ Spiritual things are spiritually discerned. The people who do not believe the Bible do not know it.