"There ought not to be, Aunt Faith; and if I was not so weary of
hypocrisy, I think I could almost throw myself at His feet and give my
life into His hands. I want to believe in Him; indeed, I may say I do
believe in Him. But I have been kept from coming forward as an 'avowed
disciple,' by the contempt I cannot help feeling for some whom I know
as 'avowed disciples.' If there is a contemptible fault in the world
it is hypocrisy. I will not believe that God loves the rich
church-member, who makes long prayers, and puts five cents in the
plate, better than the poor outcast who goes half-starved for days in
order to help a sick companion."

"But, Hugh, no one asks you to believe anything of the kind. Do you
not remember our Saviour's parable of the Good Samaritan who saved the
wounded man, while the priest and the Levite, men supposed to be
particularly religious, passed by on the other side! The world was the
same in our Saviour's day that it is now, and there is no class
against which He utters more severe reproaches than these very
religious hypocrites."

"But, Aunt Faith, these hypocrites are so often prominent in the
churches. That is what offends me."

"It was so then, Hugh. Our Saviour saw it, and repeatedly tore off the
masks."

"But if the hypocrites are in the church, is it not better to stay
out?"

"By no means, my dear boy. God has commanded us to make an open
profession before men, and we must obey with reverent humility. It is