I did good, I fear, only because
it was so pleasant--so pleasant to see human faces looking up into mine
with gratitude; so pleasant to have little children, even though they
were none of my own, clinging to me in trust; so pleasant when I went
home at night to feel that I had made one human being a little happier, a
little better, even only a little more comfortable; so pleasant to give
up my own pleasure, in order to give pleasure to others, that I fear I
forgot Thee in my own enjoyment. If I sinned in that, Lord forgive. But
at least, I have had my reward. My work among Thy poor was its own
reward, a reward of inward happiness beyond all that earth can give--and
now Thou speakest of rewarding me over and above, with I know not what of
undeserved bliss. Thou art too good, O Lord, as is Thy wont from all
eternity. Let me go and hide myself--a more than unprofitable servant,
who has not done the hundredth part of that which it was my duty to do."

What answer the Lord would make to the modest misgivings of that sweet
soul, I cannot say; for again, who am I, that I should put words into the
mouth of my Creator and my God? But this I know, that I had rather be--
what I am not, and never shall be--such a soul as that in the last day,
than own all the kingdoms of the world and the glory thereof. Still, it
is plain that such persons, however holy, however loving, are not those
of whom our Lord speaks in this parable. For they, too, know, and must
know, that inasmuch as they showed mercy unto one of the least of the
Lord's brethren, they showed it unto Him. But the special peculiarity of
the persons of whom our Lord speaks, is that they did not know, that they
had no suspicion, that in showing kindness to men, they were showing
kindness to Christ. "Lord," they answer, "when saw we Thee?"

It is a revelation to them, in the strictest and deepest sense of the
word. A revelation, that is an unveiling, a drawing away of a veil which
was before their eyes and hiding from them a divine and most blessed
fact, of which they had been unaware. But who are they? I think we must
agree with some of the best commentators, among others with that
excellent divine and excellent man, now lost to the Church on earth, the
late Dean of Canterbury, that they are persons who, till the day of
judgment, have never heard of Christ; but who then, for the first time,
as Dean Alford says, "are overwhelmed with t