When once to a man the human face is the human face divine, and the hand of his neighbor is the hand of a brother, then will he understand what St. Paul meant when he said, “I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren.” But he will no longer understand those who, so far from feeling the love of their neighbor an essential of their being, expect to be set free from its law in the world to come. There, on the battlements of safety in the narrow circle of their heaven, they will regard hell from afar and say to each other, “Listen to their moans. But do not weep, for they are our neighbors no more.” St. Paul would be wretched before the throne of God, if he thought there was one man beyond the pale of his mercy, and that as much for God’s glory as for the man’s sake. Who that loves his brother would not, upheld by the love of Christ, arise from the company of the blessed and walk down into the dismal regions of despair to sit with the last of the unredeemed, and be himself more blessed in the pains of hell than in the glories of heaven? Who, I mean, that had the mind of Christ, that had the love of the Father?

But it is a wild question. God is, and shall be, All in all. Father of our brothers and sisters, thou wilt not be less glorious than we, taught of Christ, are able to think thee. It is because we hope not for them in thee, not knowing thee, not knowing thy love, that we are so hard and heartless to the brothers and sisters whom thou hast given us.