A Letter of Credit Part 74

"But what do you think of that plan of dealing with an injury?"

"But does the Bible really mean that we should do so?"

"What does it _say_, my dear? It is always quite safe to conclude that G.o.d means what he says."

"People don't act as if they thought so."

"What then?"

"Mrs. Mowbray, I don't see how a man _could_."

"By the grace of G.o.d."

"I suppose, by that one could do anything," said Rotha thoughtfully.

Silence fell, which Mrs. Mowbray would not break. She watched the girl's face, which shewed thoughts working and some struggle going on. The struggle was so absorbing, that Rotha did not notice the silence, nor know how long it lasted.

"Then--you think--" she began,--"according to--that I ought--"

The words came slowly and with some inner protest. Mrs. Mowbray rose.

"It is no matter what I think. The decision must be made by yourself independently. Study it, and pray over it; and I pray you may decide rightly."

"But if _you_ thought, Mrs. Mowbray--" Rotha began.

"It is not I whom you have to obey, my child. I think your case is not an easy one; it would not be for me; I believe it would rouse all the wickedness there is in me; but, as you said, by the grace of G.o.d one can do anything. I shall pray for you, my dear."

She left the room, though Rotha would fain have detained her. It was much easier to talk than to act; and now she was thrown back upon the necessity for action. She sat leaning over the Bible, looking at the words; uncompromising, simple, clear words, but so hard, so hard, to obey! "If he compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain." And then Rotha's will took such a hold of her stockings, that it seemed as if she never could let them go. It was injustice! it was oppression! it was extortion! it was more, something else that Rotha could not define. Yes, true, but--"if he take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also."

A long while Rotha worried over those words; and then stole into her mind another thought, coming with the subtlety and the peace of a sunbeam.--It is not for aunt Serena; it is for Christ; you are his servant, and these are his commands.--It is true! thought Rotha, with a sudden casting off of the burden that was upon her; I _am_ his servant; and since this is his pleasure, why, it is mine. Aunt Serena may have the things; what does it signify? but I have a chance to please G.o.d in giving them up; and here I have been trying as hard as I could to fight off from doing it. A pretty sort of a Christian I am! But--and O what a joy came with the consciousness--I think the Lord is beginning to take away my stony heart.

The feeling of being indeed a servant of the Lord Christ seemed to transform things to Rotha's vision. And among other things, the words of the Bible, which were suddenly become very bright and very sweet to her.

The question in hand being settled, and no fear of the words any longer possessing her, it occurred to her to take her "Treasury of Scripture Knowledge" and see what more there might be about this point of not resisting evil. She found first a word back in Leviticus----

"Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself."--Lev. xix. 18.

It struck Rotha's conscience. This went even further than turning the cheek and resigning the cloak; (or she thought so) for it forbade her withal to harbour any grudge against the wrong doer. Not have a grudge against her aunt, after giving up the stockings to her? Yet Rotha saw and acknowledged presently that only so could the action be thoroughly sound and true; only so could there be no danger of nullifying it by some sudden subsequent action. But bear _no grudge?_ Well, by the grace of G.o.d, perhaps. Yes, that could do everything.

She went on, meanwhile, and read some pa.s.sages of David's life; telling how he refused to take advantage of opportunities to avenge himself upon Saul, who was seeking his life at the time. The sweet, n.o.ble, humble temper of the young soldier and captain, appeared very manifest and very beautiful; at the same time, Rotha thought she could easier have forgiven Saul, in David's place, than in her own she could forgive Mrs. Busby.

Some other words about not avenging oneself she pa.s.sed over; _that_ was not the point with her; and then she came to a word in Romans,----

"If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men."

That confirmed her decision, and loudly. If she would live peaceably with Mrs. Busby, no doubt she must do her will in the matter of the stockings.

But "with all men," and "as much as lieth in you"; those were weighty words, well to be pondered and laid to heart. Evidently the Lord would have his servants to be quiet people and kindly; not so much bent on having their own rights, as careful to put no hindrance in the way of their good influence and example. And I am one of his people, thought Rotha joyously. I will try all I can. And it is very plain that I must not bear a grudge in my heart; for if it was there, I could never keep it from coming out.

Then she read a verse in 1 Corinthians vi. 7. "Now therefore there is utterly a fault among you, because ye go to law one with another. _Why do ye not rather take wrong?_ why do ye not rather suffer yourselves to be defrauded?" It did not stumble her now. Looking upon all these regulations as opportunities to make patent her service of Christ and to please him, they won quite a pleasant aspect. The words of the hymn, so paradoxical till one comes to work them out, were already verified in her experience--

"He always wins who sides with G.o.d; To him no chance is lost.

_G.o.d's will is sweetest to him when It triumphs at his cost_."

Ay, for then he tastes the doing of it, pure, and unmixed with the sweetness of doing his own will.

And then came,--"Not rendering evil for evil, or railing for railing; but contrariwise blessing; knowing that ye are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a blessing."--1 Peter iii. 9.

"Contrariwise, _blessing_." According to that, she must seek out some way of helping or pleasing her aunt, as a return for her behaviour about the stockings. And strangely enough, there began to come into her heart, for the first time, a feeling of pity for Mrs. Busby. Rotha did not believe she was near as happy, with all her money, as her little penniless self with her Bible. No, nor half as rich. What could she do, to shew good will towards her?

There was n.o.body at the dinner table that evening, who looked happier than Rotha; there was n.o.body who enjoyed everything so well. For I am the servant of Christ she said to herself. A little while later, in the library, whither they all repaired, she was again lost in the architecture of the 13th and 14th centuries, and in studying Fergusson.

She started when Mrs. Mowbray spoke to her.

"How did you determine your question, my dear?"

Rotha lifted her head, threw back the dark ma.s.ses of her hair, and cleared the arches of Rivaulx out of her eyes.

"O,--I am going to let her have them," she said.

"What she demanded?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

"The words seemed plain, madame, when I came to look at them. That about letting the cloak go, you know; and, 'If it be possible, . . . live peaceably with all men.' If I was going to live peaceably, I knew I must."

"And you are inclined now to live peaceably with the person in question?"

"O yes, ma'am," said Rotha. She smiled frankly in Mrs. Mowbray's face as she said it; and she was puzzled to know what made that lady's eyes swiftly fill with tears. They filled full. Rotha went back to her stereoscope.

"What have you there, my dear?"

"O this old abbey, Mrs. Mowbray; it is just a ruin, but it is so beautiful! Will you look?"

Mrs. Mowbray put the gla.s.s to her eye.

"It is a severe style--" she remarked.

"Is it?"

"And it was built at a severe time of religious strictness in the order to which it belonged. They were a colony from Clairvaux; and the prior of Clairvaux, Bernard, was the most remarkable man of his time; remarkable through his goodness. In all Europe there was not another man, crowned or uncrowned, who had the social and political power of that man. Yet he was a simple monk, and devoted to G.o.d's service."

"I do not know much about monks," Rotha remarked.

"You can know a good deal about them, if you will read that work of Montalembert on the monks of the Middle Ages. Make haste and learn to read French. You must know that first."

"Is it in French?"

"Yes."