And hence spring those comforting subterfuges of hope to which they all fly.

Not being able to trust the Father entirely, they yet say: 'Who can tell what took place at the last moment?
Who can tell whether God did not please to grant them saving faith at the eleventh hour ?'--that so they might pass from the very gates of hell, the only place for which their life had fitted them, into the bosom of love and purity! This God could do for all: this for the son beloved of his mother perhaps he might do! O rebellious mother heart! dearer to God than that which beats laboriously solemn under Genevan gown or Lutheran surplice! if thou wouldst read by thine own large light, instead of the glimmer from the phosphorescent brains of theologians, thou mightst even be able to understand such a simple word as that of the Saviour, when, wishing his disciples to know that he had a nearer regard for them as his brethren in holier danger, than those who had not yet partaken of his light, and therefore praying for them not merely as human beings, but as the human beings they were, he said to his Father in their hearing: 'I pray not for the world, but for them,'-- not for the world now, but for them--a meaningless utterance, if he never prayed for the world; a word of small meaning, if it was not his very wont and custom to pray for the world--for men as men.

Lord Christ! not alone from the pains of hell, or of conscience--not alone from the outer darkness of self and all that is mean and poor and low, do we fly to thee; but from the anger that arises within us at the wretched words spoken in thy name, at the degradation of thee and of thy Father in the mouths of those that claim especially to have found thee, do we seek thy feet.

Pray thou for them also, for they know not what they do..