g grand in
being hopeless for one's self, or in serving the Unseen rather than
those about you, seeing it is easier to work for those who can not
oppose you, than to endure the contradiction of sinners. But I know you
agree with me that the best way to assist posterity is to be true to
your contemporaries, so there I need say no more--except that the
hopeless man can do the least for his fellows, being unable to give them
any thing that should render them other than hopeless themselves; and
if, for the grandeur of it, a man were to cast away his purse in order
to have the praise of parting with the two mites left in his pocket, you
would simply say the man was a fool. This much seems to me clear, that,
if there be no God, it may be nobler to be able to live without one;
but, if there be a God, it must be nobler not to be able to live
without Him. The moment, however, that nobility becomes the object in
any action, that moment the nobleness of the action vanishes. The man
who serves his fellow that he may himself be noble, misses the mark. He
alone who follows the truth, not he who follows nobility, shall attain
the noble. A man's nobility will, in the end, prove just commensurate
with his humanity--with the love he bears his neighbor--not the amount
of work he may have done for him. A man might throw a lordly gift to his
fellow, like a bone to a dog, and damn himself in the deed. You may
insult a dog by the way you give him his bone."

"I dispute nothing of all that," said Faber--while good Mr. Bevis sat
listening hard, not quite able to follow the discussion; "but I know you
will admit that to do right from respect to any reward whatever, hardly
amounts to doing right at all."

"I doubt if any man ever did or could do a thing worthy of passing as in
itself good, for the sake of a reward," rejoined Wingfold. "Certainly,
to do good for something else than good, is not good at all. But perhaps
a reward may so influence a low nature as to bring it a little into
contact with what is good, whence the better part of it may make some
acquaintance with good. Also, the desire of the approbation of the
Perfect, might nobly help a man who was finding his duty hard, for it
would humble as well as strengthen him, and is but another form of the
love of the good. The praise of God will always humble a man, I think."

"There you are out of my depth," said Faber. "I know nothing about
that."

"I go on then to say," continued the cur