and outgoing of the seasons, the birth of the flowers, the growth of
forests, the outpourings of the sunlight, the silent glittering of
the stars. A wide illimitable Beneficence embraces all creation. A
vast Eternal Pity exists for all sorrow, all sin. He who first swung
the planets in the air, and bade them revolve till Time shall be no
more--He, the Fountain-Head of Absolute Perfection, is no deaf,
blind, capricious, or remorseless Being. To Him the death of the
smallest singing-bird is as great or as little as the death of a
world's emperor. For Him the timeless withering of an innocent
flower is as pitiful as the decay of a mighty nation. An infant's
first prayer to Him is heard with as tender a patience as the united
petitions of thousands of worshippers. For in everything and around
everything, from the sun to a grain of sand, He hath a portion,
small or great, of His own most Perfect Existence. Should He hate
His Creation, He must perforce hate Himself; and that Love should
hate Love is an impossibility. Therefore He loves all His work; and
as Love, to be perfect, must contain Pity, Forgiveness, and
Forbearance, so doth He pity, forgive, and forbear. Shall a mere man
deny himself for the sake of his child or friend? and shall the
Infinite Love refuse to sacrifice itself--yea, even to as immense a
humility as its greatness is immeasurable? Shall we deny those
merciful attributes to God which we acknowledge in His creature,
Man? O my Soul, rejoice that thou hast pierced the veil of the
Beyond; that thou hast seen and known the Truth! that to thee is
made clear the Reason of Life, and the Recompense of Death: yet
while rejoicing, grieve that thou art not fated to draw more than a
few souls to the comfort thou hast thyself attained!"

Fascinated by the speaker's voice and countenance, I listen,
straining my ears to catch every word that falls from his lips. He