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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

It's a strange notion
some people have, that it's more respectable to sleep under man's
roof than God's."
"To have no settled abode," said the clergyman, and paused.
"Like Abraham?" suggested Donal with a smile. "An abiding city seems
hardly necessary to pilgrims and strangers! I fell asleep once on
the top of Glashgar: when I woke the sun was looking over the edge
of the horizon. I rose and gazed about me as if I were but that
moment created. If God had called me, I should hardly have been
astonished."
"Or frightened?" asked the minister.
"No, sir; why should a man fear the presence of his saviour?"
"You said God!" answered the minister.
"God is my saviour! Into his presence it is my desire to come."
"Under shelter of the atonement," supplemented the minister.
"Gien ye mean by that, sir," cried Donal, forgetting his English,
"onything to come 'atween my God an' me, I'll ha'e nane o' 't. I'll
hae naething hide me frae him wha made me! I wadna hide a thoucht
frae him. The waur it is, the mair need he see't."
"What book is that you are reading?" asked the minister sharply.
"It's not your bible, I'll be bound! You never got such notions
from it!"
He was angry with the presumptuous youth--and no wonder; for the
gospel the minister preached was a gospel but to the slavish and
unfilial.
"It's Shelley," answered Donal, recovering himself.


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