Chapter VI: The Simple Prayer,

THE very next day he called again.

"It's all right," he said. "The girl is free to go where she chooses. Now I want to ask you a question. Where do you go to church?"

"I attend -Church. Dr. M- is my pastor."

"But you're not a member."

"Oh, yes! I have been for a great many years."

His countenance expressed real disappointment. "I could have sworn you didn't believe in such humbug."

"O Mr. Lambert, don't say so!" Marion'! eyes filled with tears. She had always supposed that he was a Christian and a member of some church.

"I've never seen any cant about you. In fact, I took it for granted that you were a good, common-sense girl. Why, all that nonsense about joining a church and taking an oath that you believe such and such doctrines has exploded long ago!"

"Don't you believe any doctrines?"

"I believe this: that it's the life we must look to. Why, I've seen men,—and women too,—who swallowed the whole creed, covers and all, stiff and straitlaced, thought it a sin to smile, but who wouldn't give a penny to a poor man to save his soul. I'm sick of this talk about doctrine. Give me the life,—that's what I look at."

"But how shall we know how to live unless we study God's Word? We have exact directions there,—and these are what I call doctrines. I am sure you believe that Jesus Christ came to set us an example of a perfect life."

"I'll allow that for the sake of argument."

"Did He ever sin?"

"Not that I ever heard of, but I don't know much about it."

"Can you name any other man who ever lived without sin?"

"Perhaps not. I always said the world was up side down. But what does that prove? I don't know what you are driving at."

"Then the claim of Jesus Christ himself, that He was the Son of God, in a peculiar sense,—that no man can come to the Father except through Him,—is a claim we must acknowledge."

"I don't know anything about that. You are taking too much for granted."

"Why, if any other man should claim to be divine, saying, in plain terms, 'I and my Father are one,' he would be seized and punished for blasphemy. It would be monstrous, presumptuous in the last degree. The fact that Jesus Christ claimed that he was one with the Father, the fact that he was a sinless being, and could not therefore be such a wicked impostor, that he proved his assertion by his life, his teachings, and his power to work miracles, is the great central truth on which Christianity is based. If you read your Bible prayerfully, as I earnestly hope you do, you must concede so much."

Mr. Lambert twirled his glove, looked grave, and then said, "Well, what of that?"

"How do you suppose the world came to be upside down, Mr. Lambert?"

"Can't say. Can vouch for the fact, though. Everything and everybody is helter-skelter."

"Including Mr. Regy, I suppose."

"Yes; he is as bad as any of them."

"And needs a power out of himself to put him right."

"That's true."

"This power we have in our blessed Saviour. He came to save us from sin and from all its dismal consequences."

"Well, admit that too, for the sake of argument."

"Now, my dear friend," urged Marion, seizing his arm and gazing wistfully in his face, "believing so much, as I am sure you do, you have the very root and foundation of the Christian doctrine. A good life must and will grow out of such a belief. Jesus Christ, who was rich, became poor for our sakes. He sacrificed ease, comfort, home on earth, and all that makes life dear. I say nothing of the glories of heaven, the worship of myriads of holy beings, which He willingly exchanged for disgrace, ignominy, and death. I am only speaking now of Him in His human nature. He loved us to that extent He was willing to do and bear all this for us, to make us happy here and hereafter. We must acknowledge ourselves degraded indeed, if we are not willing to do something to show our appreciation of such love. What does He ask of us? Only that we return His love, and cherish kindly feelings toward each other. Love God, and our neighbor as ourselves. This is the life you so rightly urge that we must live. It flows naturally from the doctrine. Any other motives than love to God and to our fellows fail of power to help us live this life.

"You see I have not said a word about the theories that man, in different stages of the world, has built on these fundamental truths. There always has been and always will be different ways of explaining God's truth; but speculation is outside of fundamental truth. Man a sinner, Christ a Saviour, is enough for me. Any man, woman, or child, really desirous of showing his love to Christ, can find rules in God's Word to guide him in every emergency."

"About joining a certain church, for instance." There was an ill-concealed sneer in Mr. Lambert's voice.

"Yes, we have the example of companies of disciples gathering themselves together to recount what God had done for them. Our Saviour himself honored and showed His approbation of these gatherings by being present with them. The most affecting of all His dying messages to His disciples was that they should eat bread as a symbol of his body broken, and drink wine as a symbol of His blood shed for them. This was to be a continual reminder of what He had done. I can say from my own experience, that this communing with Christ in His sacrifice brings Him nearer to me not only as a Saviour but as a friend, or elder brother, than anything else could do."

"I don't see any Christianity in one soul de-crying another, and calling each other hard names."

"I don't see any Christianity in one man stealing his neighbor's coat, or his property of any kind. One act is as much Christian as the other. If the disciples of Christ would only live up to the example He set for us, one man would never decry or call his neighbor hard names merely because they differ on non-essentials.

"People's likes and dislikes are as wide apart as their countenances. Because one man has blue eyes, he needn't decry a man who has black. All that is required of him is that he shall use aright the eyes God has given him. One man is so constituted that in his worship of God he prefers liturgy and certain prescribed forms. This mode, which we call Episcopalian, helps his fervor, and the very forms assist him to keep his mind from wandering.

"Others find these written prayers, etc., irksome and monotonous: they like more stir and bustle; such become Methodists. God never expected or intended that we should all be patterned in the same mould. Social intercourse would be very tame if we were. Mr. Regy, for instance, has his own method of relieving the poor, and I have mine," she added, smiling.

"Mr. Regy is an old humbug," growled Mr. Lambert. "I'm always ashamed when I've been in his society. He's the most provoking man I'm acquainted with."

"And yet he is in a fair way to attain a high position: 'He that humbleth himself shall be exalted.'"

Mr. Lambert's face crimsoned, and he muttered some unintelligible words. He caught up his hat and cane in a hurry, when she said, tenderly,—

"May I say something to you, my dear friend?"

"Humph! That's cool! Here you've been driving into me with hammer and tongs, and now you ask very meekly, may I say something to you?' Well, say on; a few hits more or less won't kill me."

"It is only this, dear sir. When we accept Jesus Christ as our own personal Saviour, He will flood our souls with such peace and joy as we never before conceived. His love helps us to bear trials, to meet disappointment with true fortitude, to look forward without fear to the time when we shall walk through the dark valley. I shall pray daily that such love as this may fill your soul."

His face became so convulsed while she made this personal appeal that she was really alarmed. Putting a violent restraint on himself, he rallied and exclaimed in a light tone,—

"You were cut out for a theological professor I was not aware of this accomplishment." He would not notice the hand she held out to him, but with a gruff "Good day," left the room.

After his departure, Marion found herself so shaken that she could scarcely collect her thoughts. She went to her chamber, and with tears plead for her friend. "O God, show Thy self to him in the face of thy Son, Jesus Christ." This was the burden of her petitions.

Fortunately for her, this was the day of the week when the foreign mail came in. A letter from her dearest friend would restore her spirits. While she was waiting for it, thoughts of Mr Lambert would intrude, and she was surprised that, knowing him so intimately as she had for some years, she was so little acquainted with his early life. "I wish I could comfort him as daughter would. Did he really disbelieve every thing, as he pretended?"

She at last put on her hat and, summoning Hepsey, went to call on Esther. She was recovering from her fright, and seemed relieved that she was freed from a bond which had proved such a burden to her.

"I advise her to go back to her old name again," explained Mrs. Cole. "Esther Sims she is to be from this time."

Miss Howard promised that Hepsey should accompany Esther to a clothing store, where suitable outfit would be provided for her, which she could pay for with her after-earnings.

"Am I to go into the cigar factory?" inquired Esther, with a shudder.

"Oh, no! You are to live with me. Hepsey has adopted you," laughing. "I can speak for her that she will be strict, but kind."

Esther looked up suddenly, as though she scarcely understood, but, seeing the bright smile on Miss Howard's face, her own grew radiant then, with a quick movement, she threw herself on her knees before the lady, while tears of joy ran down her cheeks.

"Poor child!" murmured Marion. "She has known so little the comfort of a home."

"Or having real friends to care for her," interrupted Hepsey, wiping her own eyes.

It was indeed a change in Esther's life, difficult for her, at least, to comprehend. For days after she went to live with her kind friends, she seemed to herself to be in a dream. Nothing made it seem so real as the prayers Mr. Mitchell offered when they all gathered around the family altar. As she told Hepsey afterward, she would go without food rather than to lose the opportunity of being present.

"Do you recollect a little prayer you taught us at the mission school, Miss Howard?"

This lady and Esther were sitting at their sewing when the child timidly asked the question. She was gradually becoming accustomed to kind words, losing the habit of starting, when suddenly addressed, as though she feared a blow.

Esther's hands trembled with eagerness as she asked the question.

"Do you mean the prayer which begins, 'Help me, dear Lord'?"

"Yes, ma'am." The child closed her eyes, bent her head forward just in the old way she had been taught, and repeated the whole prayer with a solemnity and fervor which deeply affected the hearer.

"Help me, dear Lord, this day, to be honest, faithful, and true toward my fellows, and above all to love Thee, blessed Saviour, with all my heart. Help me to remember that God sees all that I do, and hears all that I say, and that He is able to protect and guide all those who put their trust in Him. For Jesus Christ's sake, we ask this. Amen."

With a half-checked sob the child went on, gradually forgetting her timidity, and giving to her faithful teacher an insight into her poor, lonely, repressed life which was never forgotten.

"O Miss Howard! it frightens me to think how bad I was at the mission school. I used to whisper and set the girls to laughing, and waste my thread, and do so many naughty things. Miss Farnum ought to have put me out. But if she had," sighing, "I never should have learned that good prayer" (speaking with great awe) "and then what should I have done when I was in such trouble?

"I used to kneel in the corner and repeat it over and over till it seemed like I heard Jesus' voice say, 'I will, child.' Once when he"—she always alluded to her husband as he—"came home drunk, and beat me, I worried 'cause I couldn't get to my corner and kneel down. I did manage to sit up in bed and put my hands together as you told us, and I said it over and over in my heart. I thought, maybe as He knows all about us, He'd know how it hurt me to move, and wouldn't mind if I did cry and moan, 'cause I couldn't help it."

"My poor child. I am very glad you knew where to go for comfort. Did you ever try to form a prayer for yourself?"

"No, ma'am, not a prayer. I wasn't fit for it, you know; but when he was swearing and threatening to kill me,—not him, but rum,—I used to whisper, O God, pity me. Dear Jesus, take away the bad heart that makes him treat me so. Once after I had asked God to make him good and help me to be patient, he came and looked at me as I lay on the straw. He wasn't drunk then, and he said, 'I'm sorry for your sake you ever saw me, Esther.' His voice was real kind, like as though he pitied me. When he'd gone, I told Jesus about it. Was it naughty?" as she saw Miss Howard suddenly put her handkerchief to her eyes, "and I loved Jesus Christ so much that I forgot all the pain in my head and my side, so I fell asleep."