“You think highly of Christianity as a moral system, and only wish its professors lived up to their duties. Well, I wish so too. I wish all who call themselves Christians were one-tenth as kind, as unselfish, as disinterested, as some of you who call yourselves infidels. But the difference between you is simply this. The humblest, the most faulty, sincere Christian knows that whatever good there may be in him is the fruit of that divine Life; while you are very apt to consider your virtues your own, and your faults the result of circumstances, due to heredity, perhaps, or education, or the cross-grained perversity of your next neighbor. And you are quite right; your faults are due to just these things. They are a part of the Kingdom of Death, which the Life of Christ came into the world to conquer. “It is said that ‘if to-night a new star were created in some far-distant constellation, ages would pass before its light could reach us, but only a few seconds before the earth would feel its presence.’ And would not the influence of that star be just the same whether we knew of it or not? Would our world be deflected from its present orbit one hair’s-breadth more or less because that new star could not be found upon a single astronomical chart? The name of Jesus Christ may not be found upon your guide to the stars, dear friends, but His life is nevertheless within and around you, making you better as you yield to it, or worse as you resist it. For as individuals you _can_ resist it, perhaps, forever, though, as a race, humanity must and will grow more and more into His image and likeness, Who _is_, that is, Who _breathes_, Life, Love, and Truth.” “Now, I suppose,” said Dr. Richards, who waited outside the church door, with Alice on his arm and Freddy in his chair, whereof Louis served as propeller,—“now, I suppose you think you have settled the whole question, and convinced everybody by that sermon?” “On the contrary,” replied Mr. Clare. “There’s a verse that always comes into my mind the moment I finish preaching. I wish it wouldn’t, for it has rather a depressing effect at times, so that I am compelled to reason myself into optimism again before I can go on with the service,” with a mischievous glance, as he lent a hand to help the Ark over a gutter. “Optimism! humph! I gave you credit for greater knowledge of the world. What is the verse?” “‘The sermon being ended, All turned and descended; The pikes went on stealing, The eels went on eeling. Much delighted were they, But preferred the old way!’ “It is from St. Anthony’s sermon to the fishes, I believe, but that is all I know of the poem,” said Mr. Clare. “Ah! there’s a deal of human nature in fishes,” said the doctor, laughing. “Well, then, what is the good of preaching?”