Spirit of Father Faber Apostle of London e-bog

Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. How one comes to love this great huge London, when God has thrown us into it as our vineyard! The monster - it looks so unmanageable, and it is positively so awfully wicked, so hopelessly magnificent, so heretically wise and proud after its own fashion. Yet after a fashion it is good also. Such a multitudinous remnant who have never bowed the knee to Baal, such numbers seeking their way to the light, such hearts Grace touched, so much secret holiness, such supernatural lives, such loyalty, mercy, sacrifice, sweetness, greatness. St. Vincent Ferrer preached in its streets, and Fr. Colombiere in its mews. Do not keep down what is good in it. Help people to be saints. Not all who ask for help really wish it, when it comes to be painful. But some do. Raise ten souls to detachment from creatures, and to close union with God, and what will happen to this monster city? Who can tell? Monster as it is, it is not altogether unamiable. It means well often, even when it is cruel. Well-meaning persons are unavoidably cruel. Yet it is often as helpless and as deserving of compassion as it is of wrath and malediction. Poor Babylon! would she might have a blessing from her unknown God, and that Grace might find its way even into her Areopagus!