ely his own fault. I used to think like that, but God has given
me clearer vision now. Here is poor Sar'-Ann, not daring to show her
face outside the door; covered with shame for her own sin and Ginty's.
Oh yes, love, she has spoiled her life. But think of how she has been
brought up: in a little cottage where there was a big family and only
two rooms; where the father was coarse and the boys--poor little
fellows--imitated him; and the mother, though she has a kind heart, is
vulgar and often thoughtless; where decency has been impossible and
woman's frailty has been made a jest. It has not been Sar'-Ann's
fault, love, that she has been placed there. She had no voice in the
selection of her lot. She might have been in your home and you in
hers. That little bunch of heather would have been safe yet if it had
not been growing by the roadside where you stood."

"Then God is responsible for Sar'-Ann?" I asked.

"God is her Father, and He loves her very dearly," she replied simply.
"There are lots of questions I cannot answer, love, but I am sure He
will not throw Sar'-Ann away because she has been blighted and stained."

The squire broke in now, and there was just a little tremor in his
voice as he spoke:

"'And when the vessel that he made of the clay was marred in the hands
of the potter he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the
potter to make it.'"

Mother Hubbard's eyes lit up. "Yes, sir," she said, "and I do not
think he grieved too much because the first design went wrong. He just
made it again another vessel. Perhaps he meant at first to make a very
beautiful and graceful vessel, but there were imperfections and flaws
in the material, so he made it into a homely jug; and yet it was
useful."

"Oh, Mother Hubbard!" I said, "there are all sorts of imperfections and
flaws in your logic, and I know people who would shake it to pieces in
a moment."

"Well, love, perhaps so; but they would not shake my faith:

"'To one fixed ground my spirit clings,
I know that God is good.'"

"Stick to that, Mrs. Hubbard," said the squire earnestly; "never let go
that belief. Faith is greater far than logic. I would sooner doubt
God's existence than His goodness. Problems of sin and suffering have
oppressed my brain and heart all my life, but like you I have got
clearer vision during these later days. The clouds often disperse
towards the sunset, and my mental horizon is undimmed now. You and I