Was it not
a dreadful thing, he thought with himself, and was right in so
thinking, that love to any lovely thing--how much more to the
loveliest being God had made!--whose will is the soul of all
loveliness, should cause him, in any degree, or for any time, to
forget him and grow strange to the thought of him? The lack was
this, that, having found his treasure, he had not yet taken it home
to his Father! Jesus, himself, after he was up again, could not be
altogether at home with his own, until he had first been home to
his Father and their Father, to his God and their God. For as God
is the source, so is he the bond of all love. There are Christians
who in portions of their being, of their life, their judgments, and
aims, are absolute heathens, for with these, so far as their
thought or will is concerned, God has nothing to do. There God is
not with them, for there they are not with God. Do they heed St.
Paul when he says, "Whatsoever is not of faith is sin"?
So, between these two, an unrest had come in, and they were no more
sure of ease in each other's presence, although sometimes, for many
minutes together, thought and word would go well between them, and
all would be as simple and shining as ever.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHARLES JERMYN, M. D.
The only house in the neighbouring village where Lady Joan
sometimes visited, was, as the gardener had told Cosmo, that of the
doctor, with whose daughter she had for some years, if not
cultivated, yet admitted a sort of friendship.
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