the woman that was
a sinner went out, washed and forgiven, from that sinless Presence, with
the shards of the broken alabaster box in her hand, she was less likely
than at any previous time in her life to reproach the fellow-sinners
whom she met on her journey home. So, when Philippa Sergeaux's eyes
were opened, and she came to see how much God had forgiven her, the
little that she had to forgive her father seemed less than nothing in
comparison. She could distinguish now, as previously she could not--but
as God does always--between the sin and the sinner; she was able to keep
her hatred and loathing for the first, and to regard the second with the
deepest pity. And when she thought of the sleep into which she could
have little doubt that his soul had been lulled,--of the black awakening
"on the brink of the pit,"--there was no room in her heart for any
feeling but that of unutterable anguish.

They had not sent for her to Arundel. Until she heard that the end was
reached, she never knew he was near the end at all.

It is not Christianity, but Pharisaism, which would shut up the kingdom
of heaven against all but itself. To those who have tasted that the
Lord is gracious, it is something more than mere privilege to summon him
that is athirst to come. "Necessity is upon them--yea, woe is unto them
if they preach not the gospel!" Though no Christian is a priest, every
Christian must be a preacher. Ay, and that whether he will or not. He
may impose silence upon his lips, but his life must be eloquent in spite
of himself. And what a terrible thought is this, when we look on our
poor, unworthy, miserable lives rendered unto the Lord, for all His
benefits toward us! When the world sees us vacillating between right
and wrong--questioning how near we may go to the edge of the precipice
and yet be safe--can it realise that we believe that right and wrong to
be a matter of life and death? Or when it hears us murmuring
continually over trifling vexations, can it believe that we honestly
think ourselves those to whom it is promised that all shall work for
good--that all things are ours--that we are heirs of God, and
joint-heirs with Christ?

O Lord, pardon the iniquities of our holy things! Verily, without Thee
we can do nothing.

On the morning that this news reached Kilquyt, an old man in the garb of
the Dominican Order was slowly mounting the ascent which led from the
Vale of Sempringham. The valley was just wa