nd
friend and brother, not all the doctrines about him, even if every one
of them were true, can save you. Poor orphan children, we cannot find
our God, and they would have us take instead a shocking caricature of
him!"

"But how should sinners know what is or is not like the true God?"

"If a man desires God, he cannot help knowing enough of him to be
capable of learning more--else how should he desire him? Made in the
image of God, his idea of him cannot be all wrong. That does not make
him fit to teach others--only fit to go on learning for himself. But in
Jesus Christ I see the very God I want. I want a father like him. He
reproaches some of those about him for not knowing him--for, if they
had known God, they would have known him: they were to blame for not
knowing God. No other than the God exactly like Christ can be the true
God. It is a doctrine of devils that Jesus died to save us from our
father. There is no safety, no good, no gladness, no purity, but with
the Father, his father and our father, his God and our God."

"But God hates sin and punishes it!"

"It would be terrible if he did not. All hatred of sin is love to the
sinner. Do you think Jesus came to deliver us from the punishment of
our sins? He would not have moved a step for that. The horrible thing
is being bad, and all punishment is help to deliver us from that, nor
will punishment cease till we have ceased to be bad. God will have us
good, and Jesus works out the will of his father. Where is the refuge
of the child who fears his father? Is it in the farthest corner of the
room? Is it down in the dungeon of the castle, my lady?"

"No, no!" cried lady Arctura, "--in his father's arms!"

"There!" said Donal, and was silent.

"I hold by Jesus!" he added after a pause, and rose as he said it, but
stood where he rose.

Lady Arctura sat motionless, divided between reverence for distorted
and false forms of truth taught her from her earliest years, and desire
after a God whose very being is the bliss of his creatures.

Some time passed in silence, and then she too rose to depart. She held
out her hand to Donal with a kind of irresolute motion, but withdrawing
it, smiled almost beseechingly, and said,

"I wish I might ask you something. I know it is a rude question, but if
you could see all, you would answer me and let the offence go."

"I will answer you anything you choose to ask."

"That makes it the more difficult; but I will--I cannot b