ould have expected some terrible enormities charged to those
who are excluded from Heaven, as the reason; but no,--they are condemned
for _not_ doing positive good, as if that included every possible harm."

"Perhaps," said Miss Ophelia, "it is impossible for a person who does no
good not to do harm."

"And what," said St. Clare, speaking abstractedly, but with deep
feeling, "what shall be said of one whose own heart, whose education,
and the wants of society, have called in vain to some noble purpose; who
has floated on, a dreamy, neutral spectator of the struggles, agonies,
and wrongs of man, when he should have been a worker?"

"I should say," said Miss Ophelia, "that he ought to repent, and begin
now."

"Always practical and to the point!" said St. Clare, his face breaking
out into a smile. "You never leave me any time for general reflections,
Cousin; you always bring me short up against the actual present; you
have a kind of eternal _now_, always in your mind."

"_Now_ is all the time I have anything to do with," said Miss Ophelia.

"Dear little Eva,--poor child!" said St. Clare, "she had set her little
simple soul on a good work for me."

It was the first time since Eva's death that he had ever said as many
words as these to her, and he spoke now evidently repressing very strong
feeling.

"My view of Christianity is such," he added, "that I think no man can
consistently profess it without throwing the whole weight of his being
against this monstrous system of injustice that lies at the foundation
of all our society; and, if need be, sacrificing himself in the battle.
That is, I mean that _I_ could not be a Christian otherwise, though
I have certainly had intercourse with a great many enlightened and
Christian people who did no such thing; and I confess that the apathy
of religious people on this subject, their want of perception of wrongs
that filled me with horror, have engendered in me more scepticism than
any other thing."

"If you knew all this," said Miss Ophelia, "why didn't you do it?"

"O, because I have had only that kind of benevolence which consists in
lying on a sofa, and cursing the church and clergy for not being martyrs
and confessors. One can see, you know, very easily, how others ought to
be martyrs."

"Well, are you going to do differently now?" said Miss Ophelia.

"God only knows the future," said St. Clare. "I am braver than I was,
because I have lost all; and he who has nothing t