Bolton’s crime; but because Brookville had never forgiven Andrew Bolton....  Hate is the one destructive element in the universe; did you know that, friends?  It is impossible for a man or woman who hates another to prosper....  And I’ll tell you why this is—­why it must be true:  God is love—­the opposite of hate.  Hence All Power is enlisted on the side of love....  Think this over, and you’ll know it is true....  Now the Bolton mystery:  A year ago we were holding a fair in this village, which was sick and impoverished because it had never forgiven the man who stole its money....  You all remember that occasion.  There were things to sell; but nobody had money to buy them.  It wasn’t a pleasant occasion.  Nobody was enjoying it, least of all your minister.  But a miracle took place—­ There are miracles in the world today, as there always have been, thank God!  There came into Brookville that day a person who was moved by love.  Every impulse of her heart; everything she did was inspired by that mightiest force of the universe.  She called herself Lydia Orr....  She had been called Lydia Orr, as far back as she could remember; so she did no wrong to anyone by retaining that name.  But she had another name, which she quickly found was a byword and a hissing in Brookville.  Was it strange that she shrank from telling it?  She believed in the forgiveness of sins; and she had come to right a great wrong....  She did what she could, as it is written of another woman, who poured out a fragrant offering of love unappreciated save by One....  There quickly followed the last chapter in the tragedy—­for it was all a tragedy, friends, as I look at it:  the theft; the pitiful attempt to restore fourfold all that had been taken; the return of that ruined man, Andrew Bolton, after his heavy punishment; and his tragic death....  Some of you may not know all that happened that night.  You do know of the cowardly attack made upon the helpless girl.  You know of the flight of the terrified man, of how he was found dead two days later three miles from the village, in a lonely spot where he had perished from hunger and exposure....  The body was discovered by James Dodge, with the aid of his dog.  With him on that occasion was a detective from Boston, employed by Miss Bolton, and myself.  There was a sum of money found on the body amounting to something over five thousand dollars.  It had been secreted beneath the floor of Andrew Bolton’s chamber, before his arrest and imprisonment.  It is probable that he intended to make good his escape, but failed, owing to the illness of his wife....  This is a terrible story, friends, and it has a sad ending.  Brookville had never learned to forgive.  It had long ago formed the terrible habits of hate:  suspicion, envy, sharp-tongued censure and the rest.  Lydia Bolton could not remain here, though it was her birthplace and her home....  She longed for friendship!  She asked for bread and you gave her—­a stone!”