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CHAPTER XII.
Meredith paused, half closed his book, was evidently pondering for a minute, and then exclaimed, "I have learned something!"
"Why, so have we all," said his sister. "What now particularly?"
"I have got a hint."
"What about? There is no fortress for you to storm, and you do not want the treasure."
"I think I should like to have lived in those times," Meredith went on.
"People were in earnest, Mr. Murray."
"Yes. So are some people in these times."
"But not the world generally; or only about making money. _Then_ people were in earnest about things worth the while."
"It does seem so from these stories," said Mr. Murray; "but, dear Meredith, you may be equally in earnest about the same things now, and with as good reason."
"Isn't it more difficult, sir, when n.o.body else, or only a few here and there, think and feel with you?"
"Yes, more difficult; or rather, more easy to go to sleep; but so much the greater need of men who are not asleep. What is your hint? I am curious, with Miss Flora."
"The way that fellow spent his treasure, sir. I was thinking, wouldn't a chapel--that is, a little church--a little free church, at Meadow Park be a good thing? The nearest church is two miles off; we can drive to it, but the people who have no horses cannot, and the poor people"----
Meredith got a variety of answers to this suggestion. His sister opened her mouth for an outcry of dismay. Maggie clapped her hands with a burst of joy. Esther stared; and a smile, very sweet and wise, showed itself on Mr. Murray's lips.
"Quixotic!--ridiculous!" said Flora. "Isn't it, Mr. Murray? Ditto has not money enough for everything, either. A church!--and then, I suppose, a minister!"
"Is it a bad notion, Mr. Murray?" inquired Meredith.
"I should think not very."
"Is it extravagant?"
"Miss Flora thinks so."
"Well, Mr. Murray, think what it would cost!" cried the young lady.
"Not so much as a large evening party--that is, it ought not. I suppose Meredith is not thinking of stone carvings and painted windows, but of a neat, pleasant, pretty, plain house, where people can worship G.o.d and hear the words of life."
"That is it exactly," said Meredith.
"Then I should say that one very fine evening entertainment would build two."
"But the minister! he must be paid," said Flora.
"Yes, and I am not for starving a minister, either," said Mr. Murray.
"But what is Meredith to do with his income, Miss Flora?"
"That's just what I want to know," remarked Meredith in an undertone; while Flora answered with some irritation--
"He can let it acc.u.mulate till he has made up his mind."
"'Riches kept for the owners of them, to their hurt,'" said Mr. Murray.
"Better not, Miss Flora. Remember, Meredith is only a steward. 'The silver is mine, and the gold is mine,' saith the Lord of hosts."
"Do you mean, Mr. Murray, that we cannot do what we like with our money?"
"You can do what you like with it, certainly."
"But I mean, isn't it _right_ for us to do what we like with it?"
"I should like to do that," murmured Meredith.
"Miss Flora, the question is, rightly stated,--May a steward use his lord's money for his own or his lord's pleasure?"
Flora coloured and pouted. "But that makes religion----Why, I never thought religion was strict like _that_. Then it isn't right to buy jewels or dresses?"
"Dresses--certainly."
"But I mean, rich dresses--dresses for company. And pictures--and horses--and books--and"----
"Stop, Miss Flora. The servant himself belongs to his lord; therefore he must make of himself the very best he can. For this, books will certainly be needed, and to some degree all the other things you have named, except jewels and what you call _rich_ dresses. The only question in each case is--'How can I do the Lord's work best? how can I spend this money to honour and please Him most?' That will not always be by the cheapest dress that can be bought, nor by checking the cultivation of taste and the acquiring of knowledge, nor even by the foregoing of arts and accomplishments. Only the question comes back at every step, and must at every step be answered--'What does the Lord want me to do _here_? Does He wish me to spend this money--or time--on myself, or on somebody else?'"
"Why it would be _always_ on somebody else," said Flora looking ready to burst into tears; "and there would be no real living at all--no enjoying of life."
"A mistake," said Mr. Murray quietly. "The Lord told us long ago--'He that will save his life shall lose it; and he that loseth his life for my sake, _the same shall find it_.'"
Flora put up her hand over her eyes, but Meredith's eyes sparkled.
"Then you think well of my plan, Mr. Murray?" he said.
"As far as I understand it."
"How would the Pavilion do, for a skeleton of the church?"
"O Ditto! the dear old Pavilion!" exclaimed Maggie.
"Why not? I do not want to shut myself off from everybody now; and I have the whole house--more than enough. And the Pavilion stands in a good place near the road."
Mr. Murray and Meredith went into a discussion of the plan, and Maggie listened, while Flora after a while resumed her work and went moodily on with it. At last Mr. Murray remarked--
"This is not so interesting to everybody, Meredith, and we have time enough to talk it over. Suppose you go on reading."
"Do you like these Saxon stories?" said Meredith pleased.
"Very much."