"Let use take care of itself." "It will," he
says. "There is no beauty without freedom."
Nothing is too high for him, nothing too low or small. To speak more
truly, in his eyes there is no small, no low. From a philanthropy down to
a gown, one catholic necessity, one catholic principle; gowns can be
benefactions or injuries; philanthropies can be well or ill clad.
He has a ministry of co-workers,--men, women, and guileless little
children. Many of them serve him without knowing him by name. Some who
serve him best, who spread his creeds most widely, who teach them most
eloquently, die without dreaming that they have been missionaries to
Gentiles. Others there are who call him "Lord, Lord," build temples to him
and teach in them, who never know him. These are they who give their goods
to the poor, their bodies to be burned; but are each day ungracious,
unloving, hard, cruel to men and women about them. These are they also who
make bad statues, bad pictures, invent frightful fashions of things to be
worn, and make the houses and the rooms in which they live hideous with
unsightly adornments.
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