mber, to the opinion of the blessed martyrs, who
dreaded bodily pain least, and avoided it least, of all the ills which
could befal them. Wherefore they are, in the sight of God, and of all
true men unto this day--the blessed martyrs.

But these people--and there are too many of them by hundreds of
thousands--do not want to be blessed. They only want to be comfortable
in this world, and in the next. As for blessedness, they do not even
know what it means; and our Lord's seven beatitudes, which begin--"Blessed
are the poor in spirit"--are not at all to their mind; even, alas! alas!
to the mind of many who call themselves religious and orthodox; at least
till they are so explained away, that they shall mean anything, or
nothing, save--I trust I am poor in spirit: and nevertheless I am right,
and everyone who differs from me is wrong.

The plain truth is--when all fine words, whether said in prayers or sung
in hymns, are stript off--that they do not wish to go to hell and pain;
and therefore prefer, very naturally, though not very spiritually, to go
to heaven and pleasure; and so sing of "crossing over Jordan to Canaan's
shore," or of "Jerusalem the golden, with milk and honey blest," and so
forth, without any clear notion of what they mean thereby, save selfish
comfort without end; they really know not what; they really care not
where. And that they may arrive there or at a far better place; and have
their wish, and more than their wish: I for one heartily desire. But
whether they arrive there, or not; and indeed, whether they arrive at
some place infinitely better or infinitely worse, depends on whether they
will give up selfish calculations of loss and gain, selfish choosing
between mere pain and pleasure: and choose this; choose, whatever it may
cost them, between being good and being bad, or even being only half
good; as little good as they can afford to be without the pains of hell
into the bargain.

My friends--What if Christ should answer such people--I do not say that
He does always answer them so, for He is very pitiful, and of tender
mercy;--but what if He were to answer them, Save you? Help you? O
presumptuous mortal, what have you done that Christ should save or help
you? You are afraid of being ruined. Why should you not be ruined? What
good will it be to your fellow-men if you keep your money, instead of
losing it? You are making nothing but a bad use of your money. Why
should Christ help you t