globe--are celebrating at this moment
the glory of the Crucified.

And what are those many nations doing who have other prophets, and
honor the Divinity in other ways--the Jews, the Mussulmans, the
Buddhists, the Vishnuists, the Guebers? They have other sacred days,
other rites, other solemnities, other beliefs. But all have some
religion, some ideal end for life--all aim at raising man above the
sorrows and smallnesses of the present, and of the individual existence.
All have faith in something greater than themselves, all pray, all bow,
all adore; all see beyond nature, Spirit, and beyond evil, Good. All
bear witness to the Invisible. Here we have the link which binds all
peoples together. All men are equally creatures of sorrow and desire, of
hope and fear. All long to recover some lost harmony with the great
order of things, and to feel themselves approved and blessed by the
Author of the universe. All know what suffering is, and yearn for
happiness. All know what sin is, and feel the need of pardon.

Christianity, reduced to its original simplicity, is the reconciliation
of the sinner with God, by means of the certainty that God loves in
spite of everything, and that he chastises because he loves.
Christianity furnished a new motive and a new strength for the
achievement of moral perfection. It made holiness attractive by giving
to it the air of filial gratitude.

* * * * *

JULY 28TH, 1880.--This afternoon I have had a walk in the sunshine, and
have just come back rejoicing in a renewed communion with nature. The
waters of the Rhone and the Arve, the murmur of the river, the austerity
of its banks, the brilliancy of the foliage, the play of the leaves, the
splendor of the July sunlight, the rich fertility of the fields, the
lucidity of the distant mountains, the whiteness of the glaciers under
the azure serenity of the sky, the sparkle and foam of the mingling
rivers, the leafy masses of the La Batie woods,--all and everything
delighted me. It seemed to me as though the years of strength had come
back to me. I was overwhelmed with sensations. I was surprised and
grateful. The universal life carried me on its breast; the summer's
caress went to my heart. Once more my eyes beheld the vast horizons, the
soaring peaks, the blue lakes, the winding valleys, and all the free
outlets of old days. And yet there was no painful sense of longing. The
scene left upon me an indefinable impres