Does not the
glittering of the world's wealth piled into the Vatican,--useless
wealth lying idle in the midst of hideous beggary and starvation,--
proclaim with no uncertain voice, 'I KNOW NOT THE MAN'? The Man of
sorrows,--the Man of tender and pitying heart,--the Man who could
not send the multitude away without bread, and compassed a miracle
to give it to them,--the Man who wept for a friend's death,--who
took little children in His arms and blessed them,--who pardoned the
unhappy outcast and said, 'Sin no more,'--who was so selfless, so
pure, so strong, so great, that even sceptics, while denying His
Divinity, are compelled to own that His life and His actions were
more Divine than those of any other creature in human shape that has
ever walked the earth! Monsignor, there is no true representative of
Christ in this world!"
"Not for heretics possibly," said Moretti disdainfully.
"For no one!" said Cyrillon passionately--"For no poor sinking,
seeking soul is there any such visible comforter! But there is a
grand tendency in Mankind to absorb His Spirit and His teaching;--to
turn from forms and shadows of faith to the Faith itself,--from
descriptions of a possible heaven to the REAL Heaven, which is being
disclosed to us in transcendent glimpses through the jewel-gates of
science! There were twelve gates in the visioned heaven of St.
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