ame out from the divine region of its own
conscience until it writhe in the shame of being itself, loathe as
absolute horror the deeds which it would now justify, and long for
deliverance from that which it has made of itself. The moment the
discipline begins to blossom, the moment the man begins to thirst after
confession and reparation, then is he once more my brother; then from an
object of disgust in spite of pity, he becomes a being for all tender,
honest hearts in the universe of God to love, cherish, revere.

"Meantime, you who behold with aching hearts the wrongs done to the
lower brethren that ought to be cherished as those to whom less has been
given, having done all, stand comforted in the thought that not one of
them suffers without the loving, caring, sustaining presence of the
great Father of the universe, the Father of men, the God and Father of
Jesus Christ, the God of the sparrows and the ravens and the oxen--yea,
of the lilies of the field."

As might be expected, Mrs. Ramshorn was indignant. What right had he to
desecrate a pulpit of the Church of England by misusing it for the
publication of his foolish fancies about creatures that had not reason!
Of course nobody would think of being cruel to them, poor things! But
there was that silly man talking about them as if they were better
Christians than any of them! He was intruding into things he had not
seen, vainly puffed up by his fleshly mind.

The last portion of these remarks she made in the hearing of her niece,
who carried it home for the amusement of her husband. He said he could
laugh with a good conscience, for the reading of the passage, according
to the oldest manuscripts we have, was not "the things he hath not
seen," but "the things he hath seen," and he thought it meant--haunting
the visible, the sensuous, the fleshly, so, for, the satisfaction of an
earthly imagination, in love with embodiment for its own sake,
worshiping angels, and not keeping hold of the invisible, the real, the
true--the mind, namely, and spirit of the living Christ, the Head.

"Poor auntie," replied Helen, "would hold herself quite above the
manuscripts. With her it is the merest sectarianism and radicalism to
meddle with the text as appointed to be read in churches. What was good
enough for the dean, must be far more than good enough for an
unbeneficed curate!"

But the rector, who loved dogs and horses, was delighted with the
sermon.

Faber's whole carriage