His tingling phrase was a joy for ever.
He took me to the church--one of the tiniest churches in the country, just the right size for a church in a tiny village and assured me that he had never once locked the door in his fifty years--day and night it was open to any one to enter.

It was a refuge and shelter from the storm and the Tempest, and many a poor homeless wretch had found a dry place to sleep in that church during the last half a century.

This man's feeling of pity and tenderness for the very poor, even the outcast and tramp, was a passion.

But how strange all this would sound in the ears of many country clergymen! How many have told me when I have gone to the parsonage to "borrow the key" that it had been found necessary to keep the church door locked, to prevent damage, thefts, etc.

"Have you never had anything stolen ?" I asked him.