s, methinks. They may mean well-nigh aught. For
me, I would say, Holiness is walking with God, and according to the will
of God."

"Well! Is not God pleased with the doing of good?"

"God is pleased with nothing but Christ. He is not pleased with you
because of your deeds. He must first accept _you_, and that not for any
your deserving, but for the sake of the alone merits of His Son; and
then He shall be pleased with your deeds, since they shall be such as
His Spirit shall work in you. But nothing can please God except that
which cometh from God. Your works, apart from Him, be dead works. And
you cannot serve the living God with dead works."

Blanche's half-unconscious shrug of the shoulders conveyed the
information that this doctrine was not agreeable to her.

"Surely God will be pleased with us if we do out best!" she muttered.

"By no means," said Mr Tremayne quietly. "Your best is not good enough
for God. He likeneth that best of yours to filthy rags. What should
you say to one that brought you a present of filthy rags, so foul that
you could not so much as touch them?"

Blanche, who was extremely dainty as to what she touched, quite
appreciated this simile. She found an answer, nevertheless.

"God is merciful, Mr Tremayne. You picture Him as hard and unpitiful."

"Verily, Mistress Blanche, God is merciful: more than you nor I may
conceive. But God hath no mercies outside of Christ. Come to Him
bringing aught in your hand save Christ, and He hath nought to say to
you. And be you ware that you cannot come and bring nothing. If you
bring not Christ, assuredly you shall bring somewhat else,--your own
works, or your own sufferings, or in some manner your own deservings.
And for him that cometh with his own demerits in hand, God hath nought
saving the one thing he hath indeed demerited,--which is--Hell."

Mr Tremayne spoke so solemnly that Blanche felt awed. But she did not
relish the doctrine which he preached any better on that account.

"How have I demerited that?" she asked.

"God Himself shall answer you. `He that hath not the Son of God hath
not life.' `He that believeth not is condemned already.'"

"But I do believe--all Christians believe!" urged Blanche.

"What believe you?"

"I believe unfeignedly all that the creed saith touching our Lord."

"And I believe as unfeignedly all that the Commentaries of Caesar say
touching that same Julius Caesar."

"What mean you, Master Tre