ree
wither, but send it rain. And give a little softness to the hearts of
callous men. And remind us that widows live, and that there are
fatherless. Teach us how to heal sickly children, and be easy on horses.
And give us gentleness. And when roses grow on the walls in June, put a
bud in our hearts....

"And forgive us our trespasses ..."

The picture that came into Shane's mind then was not the picture of an
abased man beating his breast, but the thought of a mature man clanging
through the halls of heaven past every guard until he came where wisdom
and beauty was, and standing and throwing back his head: "I have done
wrong," he would say, "rotten wrong, and I'm wretched about it." And
there would be an answer: "You did right to come."

"As we forgive those who trespass against us ..."

Ah! That was hard! That was the most difficult thing in the world, the
Celt in Shane knew. The horripilation of the skin, the twitching
nostrils, the feeling for the knife in the armpit.... When one was
young, the careless word, the savage blow, the brooding feud.... But men
grew better with the increase of the years, and with maturity came the
sense that not every one could insult or hurt a man. The jibes and
trespasses of petty people meant so little, and one sensed the Destiny,
the strange veiled One, balanced in His own wise time the evil done a
man with unexpected good.... One grew wiser even yet with the years and
knew that a great wrong was outside one's personal jurisdiction.... One
had to leave that to the broad justice of the High God.... One could
appeal there, as with the old _cri de haro_ of Norman low.... _Haro!
haro! A l'aide, mon prince. On me fait tort!_ Hither! Hither! Help me,
my king; one dropped on one's knees in the market-place: I am being
injured overmuch! And it was the prince's duty to help feal men.... To
forgive trespasses--only one understood in maturity, one grew to it....
The strong and wise were the meek, not the weaklings ... the men who
knew that justice was absolute ... the men with the calm eyes and the
grim smile, they were the terrible meek....

"And lead us not into temptation ..."

A little cry of humility that was, a very human reminder to the Only
Perfect One that we in this very small world were weak. Work we had to
do, destinies to fulfil, but under weakness, or from false strength, one
might wander from our appointed path.... The power of office, let it
breed arrogance ... the sense o