When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. You mustn't go by what you read so much as by what you see and hear. ” He awoke. Nor Jacques. She bent down. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. F.
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