A Letter of Credit Part 73

"But my own mother gave me to Mr. Southwode."

"He could not take care of you properly; as he shewed that he was aware when he placed you under the protection of your aunt."

"She will never protect me," said Rotha. "She will do the other thing."

"Well, my dear, that does not change the circ.u.mstances," said Mrs.

Mowbray rising.

"Then you think"--said Rotha in great dismay--"you think I ought to pray, to know what I ought to do?"

"Yes. I know no better way. If you desire to do the will of the Lord, and not your own."

"But how shall I get the answer?"

"Look in the Bible for it. You will get it. And now, good night, my dear child! Don't sit up to-night to think about it; it is late. Start fresh to-morrow. You have a good time for that sort of study, now in the holidays."

She gave a kind embrace to Rotha; and the girl went to bed soothed and comforted. True, her blood boiled when she thought of her stockings; but she tried not to think of them, and soon was beyond thinking of anything.

The next day was filled with a white snow storm; with flurries of wind and thick, driving atoms of frost, that chased everybody out of the streets who was brought thither by anything short of stern business. A lovely day to make the house and one's own room seem cosy and cheery. It was positive delight to hear the sharp crystals beat on the window panes and to see the swirling eddies and gusts of them as the wind carried them by, almost in ma.s.s. It made quiet and warmth and comfort feel so much the more delicious. Rotha had retreated to her room after breakfast and betaken herself to her appointed work.

Her Bible had a new look to her. It was now not simply a book Mrs.

Mowbray had given her; that was half lost in the feeling that it was a book G.o.d had given her. As such, something very dear and reverent, precious and wonderful, and most sweet. Not any longer an awesome book of adverse law, with which she was at cross purposes; but a letter of love, containing the mind and will of One whom it was her utter pleasure to obey. The change was so great, Rotha lingered a little, in admiring contemplation of it; and then betook herself to the business in hand. How should she do? She thought the best way would be to ask earnestly for light on her duty; then to open the Bible and see what she could find.

She prayed her prayer, honestly and earnestly, but she hoped, quite as earnestly, that it would not be her duty to let her aunt have her fine stockings.

And here lies the one great difficulty in the way of finding what the Bible really says on any given subject which concerns our action. Looking through a red veil, you do not get the right colour of blue; and looking through blue, you will easily turn gold into green. Or, to change the figure; if your ears are filled with the din of pa.s.sion or the clamour of desire, the soft, fine voice of the Spirit in the word or in the heart is easily drowned and lost. So says F?nelon, and right justly--"O how rare a thing is it, to find a soul still enough to hear G.o.d speak!"

The other supposed difficulty, that the Bible does not speak directly of the subject about which you are inquiring, does not hold good. It may be true; nevertheless, as one or two notes, clearly heard, will give you the whole chord, even so it is with this heavenly music of the Lord's will.

Rotha did not in the least know where to look for the decision she wanted; she thought the best thing therefore would be to go on with that same chapter of Matthew from which she had already got so much light. She had done what in her lay to be "reconciled to her brother," alias her aunt; she was all ready to go further. Would the next saying be as hard?

She read on, for a number of verses, without coming to anything that touched her present purpose. Then suddenly she started. What was this?

"Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: but I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on the one cheek, turn to him the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the law and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain."--

Rotha stared at the words first, as if they had risen out of the ground to confront her; and then put both hands to her face. For there was conflict again; her whole soul in a tumult of resistance and rebellion.

Let her aunt do her this wrong! But there it stood written--"That ye resist not evil." "O why, thought Rotha, why may not evil be resisted?

And people _do_ resist it, and go to law, and do everything they can, to prevent being trampled upon? Must one let oneself be trampled upon? Why?

Justice should be done; and this is not justice. I wish Mrs. Mowbray would come in, that I might ask her! I do _not_ understand it."

At the moment, as if summoned by her wish, Mrs. Mowbray tapped at the door; she wanted to get something out of a closet in that room, and apologized for disturbing Rotha.

"You are not disturbing--O Mrs. Mowbray, are you _very_ busy?" cried the girl.

"Always busy, my dear," said the lady pleasantly. "I am always busy. What is it?"

"Nothing--if you are _too_ busy," said Rotha.

"I am never too busy when you want my help. Do you want help now?"

"O very much! I can_not_ understand things."

"Well, wait a moment, and I will come to you."

Rotha straightened herself up, taking hope; set a chair for Mrs. Mowbray, and received her with a face already lightened of part of its shadow of care.

"It is this, Mrs. Mowbray. I was looking, as you told me, to see what I ought to do; and look here,--I came to this:--'That ye resist not evil.'

Why? Is it not right to resist evil?"

"Read the pa.s.sage; read the whole pa.s.sage, to the end of the chapter."

Rotha read it; the verses she had been studying, and then, "Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate thine enemy: but I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven:"--Rotha read on to the end of the chapter.

"My dear," said Mrs. Mowbray then, "do you think you could love your enemies and pray for them, if you were busy fighting and resisting them?"

"I do not know," said Rotha. "Perhaps not. I do not think it would be easy any way."

"It is not easy. Do you not see that it would be simply impossible to do the two things at once? You must take the one course or the other; either do your best to repel force with force, resist, struggle, go to law, give people what they deserve; or, you must go with your hands full of forgiveness and your heart full of kindness, pa.s.sing by offence and even suffering wrong, if perhaps you may conquer evil with good, and win people with love, and so save them from great loss. It is worth bearing a little loss oneself to do that."

"But is it _right_ to let people do wrong things and not stop them? Isn't it right to go to law?"

"Sometimes, where the interests of others are at stake. But if it is only a little discomfort for you or me at the moment, I think the Bible says, Forgive,--let it pa.s.s,--and love and pray the people into better behaviour, if you can."

"I never can, aunt Serena," said Rotha low.

"My dear, you cannot tell."

"Then I ought to let her have my stockings?" Rotha said again after a pause.

"That is a question for you to judge of. But can you forgive and love her, and resist her at the same time? You could, if what she asks demanded a wrong action from you; but it is only a disagreeable one."

"Is it only because it is so disagreeable, that it seems to me so wrong?"

"I think it _is_ wrong in your aunt; but that is not the question we have to deal with."

"And if one man strikes another man--do you think he ought to give him a chance to strike him again?"

"What do the words _say?_"

Rotha looked at the words, as if they ought to mean something different from what they said.

"I will tell you a true story," Mrs. Mowbray went on. "Something that really once happened; and then you can judge. It was in a large manufacturing establishment, somewhere out West. The master of the establishment--I think he was an Englishman?-had occasion to reprove one of his underlings for something; I don't know what; but the man got into a great rage and struck him a blow flat in the face. The master turned red, and turned pale; stood still a moment, and then offered the man the other side of his face for another blow. The man's fist was already clenched to strike,--but at seeing that, he wavered, his arm fell down, and he burst into tears. He was conquered.--

"What do you think?"

"He was a very extraordinary man!" said Rotha.

"Which?" said Mrs. Mowbray smiling.

"O I mean the master."