ated,
they think, nearer by talent and state to perfection, basking in the
sunshine of God's love. Talent, position, much exterior activity, much
supposed goodness, are, in their eyes, titles to the kingdom, and
infallible signs of charity. And then they foolishly deplore their own
state as far removed from that perfection, because forsooth their minds
are uncultured, their faith simple, and their time taken up with the
drudgery of life.

They forget that not this gift or that work or anything else is
necessary. One thing alone is necessary, and that is practical love of
God. Nothing counts without it. And the sage over his books, the
wonder-worker at his task, the apostle in his wanderings and labors,
the very martyr on the rack is no more sure of having charity than the
most humble man, woman or child in the lowest walks of life who loves
God too much to offend Him. It is not necessary to have the tongues of
men and angels, or faith that will move mountains, or the fortitude of
martyrs; charity expressed in our lives and deeds rates higher than
these.

A thing is good in the eyes of its maker if it accomplishes that for
which it was made. A watch that does not tell time, a knife that does
not cut, and a soul that does not love God are three utterly useless
things. And why? Because they are no good for what they were made. The
watch exists solely to tell the hour, the blade to cut and the soul to
love and serve its Maker. Failing in this, there is no more reason for
their being. Their utility ceasing, they themselves cease to exist to a
certain extent, for a thing is really no longer what it was, when it
fails to execute that for which it came into being.

Charity, in a word, amounts to this, that we love God, but to the
extent of not offending Him. Anything that falls short of such
affection is something other than charity, no matter how many tags and
labels it may wear. If I beheld a brute strike down an aged parent, I
would not for a moment think that affection was behind that blow; and I
could not conceive how there could be a spark of filial love in that
son's heart until he had atoned for his crime. Now love is not one
thing when directed towards God, and another where man is concerned.

The great hypocrisy of life consists in this that people make an
outward showing of loving God, because they know full well that it is
their first duty; yet, for all that, they do not a whit mend their
ways, and to sin costs