“He has had a very sad life,” said the clergyman sorrowfully, “a life of spiritual revolt against the very conditions of his existence, as well as a mental and physical revolt against the wrongs of a world which can never be set truly right, save by the advent of One to whom in their blindness these would-be reformers never look for guidance, still less join in the cry for Him to appear and take the reins of government Himself. It is sorrowful to think of--that the very men most forward in the struggle to do justice to their fellow-men, are often the most careless about giving God His dues. They will render to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s, but will they render to God the things that are God’s? How often, as one hears them speak or reads the words they are speaking to the nation, does one say in one’s heart, ‘Lord, open their eyes so that they may see!’ for philanthropy alone will never raise or purify the world; it must be joined with a living faith in a living God, and the first love and service of our hearts must belong to God; the second, given to our neighbours.” Bride looked with a sudden questioning wistfulness into the clergyman’s face. “Mr. St. Aubyn, do you not think that a man who loves mankind with a true and unselfish love must somewhere in the depths of his heart have a love for God also, even though he may not know it? Is not love in its essence Divine? and can there be a true and pure love that does not in some sort own allegiance to God?” Mr. St. Aubyn’s face was serious and thoughtful. “Pure and true love is indeed Divine in its essence; but there is a carnal and earthly love too, which is but a travesty of God-given love, and burns to its own destruction. I think man often confuses these two loves, and sometimes calls the lower one the higher. Perhaps no eye but God’s can really distinguish altogether the gold and the dross, but we can sometimes judge the tree by its fruit. How often do we see evil fruit springing from a tree which we have thought to be good! We are deceived sometimes, but our Heavenly Father never!” “Yes! I think I know what you mean. I have seen something of that, as in poor Saul’s case. The fruit is a sorrowful crop, and yet he means nobly and well, I am sure. But there is no love of God in his heart; and yet I sometimes wonder whether perhaps the love for man does not come first with some: ‘If he loves not his brother whom he hath seen, how shall he love God whom he hath not seen?’ There are words very like that somewhere.”