ke the mote dancing
here in the sunbeam. But you, if you should enter the remotest village,
you would be at home. _There_ is a house, and within it is a man who
welcomes you as a spiritual brother, as a father. He is not there of
himself, but has been placed there by another; and you have not come of
yourself, but have been led by another. You are doubly welcome, my
child, for perceiving and realizing this immediately. You knock at my
door, and it is open to you; and it will be open whenever you may come.
You knock at my heart, and that is open to you, be sure of that. I have
no house of my own; my house belongs to him who shall come after me,
and not to him either, and my heart is His who has made it beat."

The Priest stopped speaking, and fixed his regard upon Manna, who had
closed her eyes, as if she could not bear the sunlight, could not gaze
at the countenance on which the Spirit was now descending. The Priest
could see how deeply she was moved; he placed his hand in a friendly
way upon her head, saying:--

"Look up at me. I repeat to you, that you have come alone, and you know
why you have come alone; this spares us the necessity of coming to an
understanding, as worldlings term it. Coming to an understanding!"

The Priest laughed.

"Coming to an understanding! and they never do understand each other,
they, the cultivated, as they call themselves, or the self-cultivating,
as they ought to call themselves, for they believe that they can make
themselves into anything they please. They need a recommendation from
someone, who must say who they are and what they are; but we, we need
no introduction, no recommendation. You are recommended and introduced,
inasmuch as you are a child of our holy Church. Hold fast to this, my
child, and speak to me about whatever you wish to, of what is sacred
and what is profane, of what is great and what is small; you will
always find with me a home. If they disgust you in the world, and make
you feel homeless, remember, here is rest and here is home. Look out of
doors! Your father has, above there, a hot-house for foreign plants
which, are not at home in our climate; this room is your hot-house for
the plant of holy faith which, is not at home yonder. My child, I cast
no stone at any one, but I tell you, and you know already, this plant
is not of this world, and is, in this world, in a foreign climate; it
has been brought to us from heaven."

The Priest stood looking out of the wi