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Maxwell, W. B., 1866-1938

"The Devil's Garden"

It grew darker, the clouds
dropped still lower, and the wind again blew fierce and strong. He
left the broad ride and sauntered along one of the narrow tracks. He
could hear the wind as it tore through slender branches high above his
head, but down here it did not touch him; and he strolled on slowly,
feeling extraordinarily calm, full of a great reverence and wonder,
not noticing external things because he wished to maintain this
strange inward peace.
Then soon the voluminous but indefinite sensations of mental
tranquillity concentrated their soothing messages to make the comfort
of one definite thought, and Dale said to himself: "Christ has
returned to me."
And then he saw Him--not for an instant believing that he really saw
Him, that he had passed from the order of common facts into the realm
of miracles, that the usual laws of heaven had been broken by a
special material manifestation, or anything of that sort; but that he
saw Him with the beautifully clear visualization for which he had
longed and prayed. And it seemed to him that the power of his thoughts
took a splendid leap, and that he could now understand everything that
hitherto had been unintelligible and inexplicable. Very God, and very
man.


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