"Ay, but how shall we be sure that it is so?"
"Why, Mr. Carleton, Sir," said Mrs. Evelyn, "do you doubt that? Do you suppose it possible, for a moment, that a benevolent being would make creatures to be anything but happy?"
"You believe the Bible, Mrs. Evelyn?" he said, smiling slightly.
"Certainly, Sir; but, Mr. Carleton, the Bible, I am sure, holds out the same views, of the goodness and glory of the Creator ? you cannot open it but you find them on every page.
If I could take such views of things as some people have,"
said Mrs. Evelyn, getting up to punch the fire in her extremity ? "I don"t know what I should do! Mr. Carleton, I think I would rather never have been born, Sir!"
"Every one runs to the Bible!" said Mr. Stackpole. "It is the general armoury, and all parties draw from it to fight each other."
"True," said Mr. Carleton, "but only while they draw partially. No man can fight the battle of truth but in the whole panoply, and no man so armed can fight any other."
"What do you mean, Sir?"
"I mean that the Bible is not a riddle, neither inconsistent with itself; but if you take off one leg of a pair of compa.s.ses, the measuring power is gone."
"But, Mr. Carleton, Sir," said Mrs. Evelyn ? "do you think that reading the Bible is calculated to give one gloomy ideas of the future?"
"By no means," he said, with one of those meaning-fraught smiles; "but is it safe, Mrs. Evelyn, in such a matter, to venture a single grasp of hope without the direct warrant of G.o.d"s Word?"
"Well, Sir?"
"Well, Ma"am, that says, "The soul that sinneth, it shall die." "
"That disposes of the whole matter comfortably at once," said Mr. Stackpole.
"But, Sir," said Mrs. Evelyn ? "that doesn"t stand alone ? the Bible everywhere speaks of the fulness and freeness of Christ"s salvation!"
"Full and free as it can possibly be," he answered, with something of a sad expression of countenance; "but, Mrs.
Evelyn, _never offered but with conditions_."
"What conditions?" said Mr. Stackpole, hastily.
"I recommend you to look for them, Sir," answered Mr.
Carleton, gravely; ? "they should not be unknown to a wise man."
"Then you would leave mankind ridden by this nightmare of fear? ? or what is your remedy?"
"There is a remedy, Sir," said Mr. Carleton, with that dilating and darkening eye which showed him deeply engaged in what he was thinking about; "it is not mine. When men feel themselves lost, and are willing to be saved in G.o.d"s way, then the breach is made up ? then hope can look across the gap and see its best home and its best friend on the other side ?
then faith lays hold on forgiveness, and trembling is done ?
then, sin being pardoned, the sting of death is taken away and the fear of death is no more, for it is swallowed up in victory. But men will not apply to a physician while they think themselves well; and people will not seek the sweet way of safety by Christ till they know there is no other; and so, do you see, Mrs. Evelyn, that when the gentleman you were speaking of sought to-day to persuade his hearers that they were poorer than they thought they were, he was but taking the surest way to bring them to be made richer than they ever dreamed."
There was a power of gentle earnestness in his eye that Mrs.
Evelyn could not answer; her look fell as that of Constance had done, and there was a moment"s silence.
Thorn had kept quiet, for two reasons ? that he might not displease Fleda, and that he might watch her. She had left her work and turning half round from the table, had listened intently to the conversation, towards the last, very forgetful that there might be anybody to observe her ? with eyes fixed and cheeks flushing, and the corners of the mouth just indicating delight ? till the silence fell; and then she turned round to the table and took up her worsted-work. But the lips were quite grave now, and Thorn"s keen eyes discerned that upon one or two of the artificial roses there lay two or three very natural drops.
"Mr. Carleton," said Edith, "what makes you talk such sober things? ? you have set Miss Ringgan to crying."
"Mr. Carleton could not be better pleased than at such a tribute to his eloquence," said Mr. Thorn, with a saturnine expression.
"Smiles are common things," said Mr. Stackpole, a little maliciously; "but any man may be flattered to find his words drop diamonds."
"Fleda, my dear," said Mrs. Evelyn, with that trembling tone of concealed ecstasy which always set every one of Fleda"s nerves a-jarring ? "you may tell the gentlemen that they do not always know when they are making an unfelicitous compliment ? I never read what poets say about "briny drops"
and "salt tears", without imagining the heroine immediately to be something like Lot"s wife."
"n.o.body said anything about briny drops, Mamma," said Edith; "why, there"s Florence!"
Her entrance made a little bustle, which Fleda was very glad of. Unkind! ? She was trembling again in every finger. She bent down over her canvas and worked away as hard as she could. That did not hinder her becoming aware presently that Mr. Carleton was standing close beside her.
"Are you not trying your eyes?" said he.
The words were nothing, but the tone was a great deal; there was a kind of quiet intelligence in it. Fleda looked up, and something in the clear steady self-reliant eye she met wrought an instant change in her feeling. She met it a moment, and then looked at her work again with nerves quieted.
"Cannot I persuade them to be of my mind?" said Mr. Carleton, bending down a little nearer to their sphere of action.
"Mr. Carleton is unreasonable to require more testimony of that this evening," said Mr. Thorn; "his own must have been ill employed."
Fleda did not look up, but the absolute quietness of Mr.
Carleton"s manner could be felt; she felt it, almost with sympathetic pain. Thorn immediately left them, and took leave.
"What are you searching for in the papers, Mr. Carleton?" said Mrs. Evelyn, presently coming up to them.
"I was looking for the steamers, Mrs. Evelyn."
"How soon do you think of bidding us good-bye?"
"I do not know, Ma"am," he answered, coolly; "I expect my mother."
Mrs. Evelyn walked back to her sofa.
But in the s.p.a.ce of two minutes she came over to the centre- table again, with an open magazine in her hand.
"Mr. Carleton," said the lady, "you must read this for me, and tell me what you think of it, will you, Sir? I have been showing it to Mr. Stackpole, and he can"t see any beauty in it; and I tell him it is his fault, and there is some serious want in his composition. Now, I want to know what you will say to it."
"An arbiter, Mrs. Evelyn, should be chosen by both parties."
"Read it and tell me what you think!" repeated the lady, walking away, to leave him opportunity. Mr. Carleton looked it over.
"That is something pretty," he said, putting it before Fleda.
Mrs. Evelyn was still at a distance.
"What do you think of that print for trying the eyes?" said Fleda, laughing as she took it. But he noticed that her colour rose a little.
"How do you like it?"
"I like it pretty well," said Fleda, rather hesitatingly.