We have seen, however, that Lottie was not morbidly7 conscientious8. She had gathered honey everywhere, and often in spite of conscience's protest. But now, for a rarity, conscience appeared with, and not against her. She was satisfied with the fact that she felt better than ever before; and the majority of even somewhat experienced Christians9 ask, as their ground of confidence, not "What is truth?" "What has God promised?"—but, "How do I feel to-day?" Little wonder, then, if inexperienced Lottie, with everything to learn, was content with being happy.
She had always looked upon religion as a painful necessity at some remote and desperate emergency of the future; but, after the hours spent with Hemstead, it seemed a source of joy beyond all the pleasures of her highly favored life. She was like one who had been living in the glare of artificial light, brilliant enough, it is true, but who had suddenly come out into the natural sunshine, and found it warmer, sweeter,—in brief, just what she craved10 and needed.
The distrust of these exalted11 and emotional states is general, and often well-founded, especially when experienced by such mercurial12 temperaments13 as that of Lottie Marsden. And when it is remembered that her ideas of true religion were of the vaguest kind, the conservative will think, "Whatever may take place in a book, the morning dew would be the type of all this feeling in real life."
And this would be true—alas, it is true of multitudes—had she been stirred by merely human causes, as sympathetic excitement, or appeals to her feelings or fears. But, as we have said before, she had looked upon the face of the Son of God. Circumstances, and the story of Lazarus, had concentrated her mind on Jesus Christ, as in that old and touching14 record He stands before the world in one of His most winning attitudes. She did not understand how she connected with Him the hope and happiness she felt. She was no doubt like many who, eighteen centuries ago, knew little of Christ, but in the midst of their pain and anguish15 suddenly felt his healing touch, and exulted16 with great joy, forgetting that only one disease had been cured, or one trouble banished17, and that they still remained in a world where pain and trouble threatened to the very end. But here was the ground of hope for those whom Jesus touched, as well as for Lottie: in curing one evil, He had proved His power and willingness to remove every evil, and when pain of body and the suffering of guilt18 again oppressed, the true source of help was known, and so Christ eventually became their Good Physician, intrusted with the entire care of their spiritual health.
No doubt at the time of Christ many a heart was stirred and borne heavenward, on the wings of strong emotion, by the eloquence19 of some gifted rabbi, by a gorgeous ceremonial in the Temple, or by the chantings of the multitudinous priests. But the emotions passed away, as they do now; and men and women relapsed into their old, material, selfish lives. They may have looked back with regret upon the ecstasy20 that once thrilled them, and wished that it could always have been maintained; but they found this impossible. So, now, the emotion goes, and the combinations that once produced it never return, or fail to inspire it again. Looking to themselves and their own feelings,—to inadequate21 means of help,—such persons are of course disappointed; and so gradually grow hard and legal, or apathetic22 and unbelieving. When in trouble, when the natural springs of life begin to fail, there seems no real and practical help.
If human experience proves anything it is that every life needs the personal and practical help-the direct touch and word—of One who is Divinely powerful and Divinely patient.
Many days of folly23—of sin, sorrow, and deep despondency—are before Lottie still; but she has seen her God weeping from sympathy with weak humanity, and a moment later rescuing from the hopeless extremity24 of death and corruption25. Here is not some vague thing like a half-forgotten emotion or an exalted religious experience in which to trust, but One who, instead of being a vanished, half-forgotten sensation, a philosophy, or even a sound creed26 and a logical doctrine27, is a living personal and powerful Friend, who can put forth28 His hand and sustain, as He did the timid Apostle who was sinking in the threatening waves.
The temple of Lottie's faith was yet to be built; but she had been so fortunate as to commence with the true "corner stone."
During the morning hours she was the object of considerable and perplexed29 thought on the part of several of the household. There was in her face the sweet spiritual radiance of the evening before, and the same gentleness and considerateness of manner marked her action. Mrs. Marchmont and her daughter said, "It is one of Lottie's moods." Bel surmised30 that she was a little sentimental31 over Hemstead, and was indignant that she should herself indulge, and awake in the student, feelings that doubtless, on Lottie's part, would end with the visit. As for De Forrest, he was thoroughly32 puzzled. The idea that Hemstead could be anything to her was perfectly33 preposterous34; and as for religion, that was a decorous thing of form and ceremonial pertaining35 to Sunday, and this was Monday. And yet, from some cause, Lottie seemed different from her old self.
He could not complain, however, for she had never been kinder to him; and if her eyes did seek Hemstead's face rather often, she could see nothing there which for a moment could compare with his own handsome features. He also concluded that it was a "mood"; but liked the new and gentle Lottie quite as well as the piquant36, and often rather brusque girl of other days.
But to Hemstead, as with chatting and reading they whiled away the morning hours around the parlor37 fire, Lottie was the bright particular star. Her face, now transfigured in its spiritual light, captivated his beauty-loving soul; while her words and manner suggested the hope that she, with himself, had found her way into the Holy of Holies. If this could ever be true, he felt that he could go to his work in the Western wilds, content and grateful, and that a long and toilsome life would be illumined by this dear memory. He, too, like Lottie, was on the Mount; but both would soon have to come down to the plain where the "multitude" was, and some of them "lunatic"; and when in the plain they would be very much like the multitude.
After dinner, in compliance38 with an invitation from Dr. Beams, they all went over to the church, to aid in decorating it with evergreens39. They found Miss Martell and several other ladies at work; also a sprinkling of gentlemen and a few young men who were on the border line between boys and beaux, and who were frequently passing from one character to the other.
Miss Martell greeted Hemstead more cordially than she did any of the others in the party from Mrs. Marchmont's; and seemed slightly surprised at Lottie's gentle and hearty40 salutation.
De Forrest remained closely at the latter's side, but Hemstead noted41 with deep and secret satisfaction that there was in her grave kindness nothing responsive to his constant and lover-like attention. Her brow often contracted, as if his sentiment annoyed her, and she treated him as one who, for some reason, must be borne with patiently.
"She is probably engaged, but is ceasing to love him," he thought. "She never could have respected him, and now he has forfeited42 whatever affection she may have had. Still she feels that she is chained to him, and must endure the life-long martyrdom of an ill-mated marriage"; and his heart overflowed43 with a great pity.
It did not occur to him that he was a miracle of disinterestedness44 when Lottie was concerned; and that her troubles moved him more than the woes45 of all the world beside. Like many another life-voyager, with hand upon the helm, he thought that he was directing his course, when in feet a strong and subtile current was sweeping46 him he not whither.
He and Lottie did not have much to say to each but their eyes often met, and at times, in his frank impulsiveness47, he looked at her so earnestly and sympathetically that she turned away to hide her heightened color. She was becoming conscious, with a secret wonder, that he, as no man ever before, had the power to cause her blood to ebb48 and flow in the most unaccountable manner.
A short time after their arrival he wandered over to the side of the chapel49 where Miss Martell was working, and she seemingly fascinated him. They apparently50 became so absorbed in each other's words as to think of no one else, and Lottie grew pale and quiet, feeling, in the mean time, an unreasonable51 resentment52 towards Miss Martell. If Lottie has received a little grace, she is, and ever will be, the natural possessor of abundance of human nature. Is this pale and silent girl the one whose cheeks, a little before, were aflame, and every nerve tingling54 with the most unwonted sensations, and for no better reason apparently than that Hemstead had seen her tugging55 at a fibrous spray of hemlock56, and had severed57 it with his knife? That was all the others had seen; but there was a great deal more, for in the act their hands had touched, and both had seemed in a positive state in the power to give, and in the negative in readiness to receive, a subtile influence, compared with which electricity is a slow and material agent. And he had lifted his large gray eyes to hers full of—he did not realize what, nor did she—but the cause was there, and the effect followed.
But now, with secret uneasiness, Lottie notes that he seems oblivious58 of her in his eager talk with Miss Martell.
Soon after joining the latter, Hemstead had said, in his straightforward59 manner, "You intimated to Mr. Harcourt yesterday that you were 'sorry he heard my sermon.'"
With a little embarrassment60 she replied, "I do not think that Mr. Harcourt was in the right condition of mind to be benefited by your line of thought."
"Do you think that any one could be benefited by it?"
She was a little puzzled. Was he, like some young clergy-men she had known, eager for a few crumbs61 of praise for his first crude efforts? She was not one to give any faint and hollow commendation, and yet she did not wish to hurt his feelings. But her reply had a tinge62 of satire63 in it, for she had no patience with the weakness of vanity.
"I will hardly venture an opinion. You, who have given so much time and thought to these subjects, ought to be a better judge than I."
He felt, rather than saw, the delicate barb64, and flushed slightly as he replied, "I admit that perhaps I ought to be, but whether I am or not, is quite another question. I am sure that your views upon the subjects treated yesterday are far truer than mine were. The wretched, heretical sermon that I inflicted65 upon you has already justly suffered an auto66 da fe. Before the day was over I saw that instead of preaching the gospel I had been elaborating, from a partial premise67, a crude view of my own. I shall no longer preach, that is, if I preach at all, as if human nature were the raw material which God intended to work up without any regard to the process, or how much refuse there was, or what became of it. Is not Christ weeping from sympathy at the grave of Lazarus a true manifestation68 of God's feeling toward us?"
"Mr. Hemstead," Miss Martell exclaimed, "I cannot tell you how glad I am to know your change of views. Most emphatically I say yes to your question. God is seeking to develop my character; only He is more patient and gentle than my good, kind father. But why do you say, 'If I preach at all'?"
His head bowed in honest humility69, as he replied, in a low tone,
"I often doubt whether I am worthy,—whether I am called."
She now saw that she had misjudged him, and was eager to reassure70 and confirm his purpose for life; and the converse71 that followed had grown so absorbing as to cause Hemstead to forget for the time one, who by some right, divine or otherwise, had suddenly taken possession of his thoughts with a despotism as sweet as absolute.
But while Miss Martell was speaking most earnestly to Hemstead, she saw some one enter the chapel door. Her color came and went. The sentence upon her lips faltered72 to a lame53 conclusion, and though she became deeply absorbed in the process of twining the fragrant73 cedar74 with the shiny laurel, she did not work as deftly75 as before. Looking round to see the cause, Hemstead caught one of Lottie's reproachful glances, and was soon at her side with a sense of almost guilty neglect.
Addie Marchmont found work of any kind, even preparation for the Christmas festival, stupid and tiresome76; therefore she welcomed the diversion of Harcourt's coming with double zest77; and with extravagant78 exclamations79 of delight summoned him to her side. Miss Martell stood at some distance, and had turned her back towards them. Harcourt did not see her at first, but the quest of his restless eyes indicated his hope that she was there. In the mean time he laughed and jested with Addie in something of his old-time style.
Lottie Marsden, like many of her young American sisters, could be decidedly pronounced at times; but a certain amount of grace and good taste characterized her manner. Addie had never been taught restraint of any kind, and to her a church was just the place for a little wild nonsense, and all present were compelled to feel that both her words and manner went beyond the limits of good taste, to say the least. To Harcourt, in his present state of mind, they were so annoying as to be almost offensive, and, thinking that Miss Martell was not present, he was about to leave the church in order to escape.
But Miss Martell, with her back towards them, had no means of knowing that Harcourt was not encouraging Addie, and that her freedom with him was not warranted by their relations.
"I have an engagement," said Harcourt, abruptly80; and he was about to hasten away, when between intervening groups his eye caught a glimpse of a figure rising for a moment out of one of the high-backed pews, and suggesting to him the object of his thoughts. As he stepped over to speak to Lottie, his eye lingered in that direction. Instead of going directly out, he strolled to the farther end of the audience room, speaking and bowing to one and another, but not permitting his eyes to wander long from the bent81 figure of a lady who sat with her back towards him, apparently wholly absorbed in wreathing evergreens.
She felt that he was coming towards her,—she heard his voice, and soon knew that his eyes were scanning her downcast face,—but she would not look up till he spoke82.
"Won't you deign83 me even a glance, Miss Martell?" he asked.
The color deepened somewhat in her cheeks, but she looked him full in the face, and said quietly, "Why use the word 'deign,' Mr. Harcourt?"
"I suppose because my conscience suggests that from you I deserve glances of dis-dain."
"Such 'glances' are not becoming from any one, and certainly not from me. Besides," she added, a little bitterly, at the thought of such a brainless, frivolous84 girl as Addie Marchmont enchaining a man like Harcourt, "people do not get their deserts in this world."
"You certainly will not."
"How is that?" she asked quickly, not taking his meaning,
"The world is not rich enough to give it you."
Her brow contracted into a sudden frown, and she said, a trifle coldly, "I do not enjoy that style of compliment, Mr. Harcourt."
"Is there any that you do enjoy?"
Her head bent over her work; her thoughts were swift and many, and in the quiet moment that Harcourt waited for an answer to his commonplace question, she fought and iron a battle which, if never known on earth, would never be forgotten in heaven. She mastered self and selfishness, in the very citadel85 of their strength. Fierce though brief was the struggle that took place beneath that gentle, calm exterior86, for the human heart is ever the same,—wilful, passionate87. With many it is often like the wild storm that will spend itself to the end, no matter how much of wreck88 and ruin is wrought89. With such as Miss Martell, it is like the storm which, at its height, heard the words of the Divine Master, "Peace, be still."
"Let him marry Addie Marchmont if he will," she concluded. "I will be kind and gentle to him all the same, and, cost me what it may, I will still see him, and seek to make him a true, good man."
So with woman's tact90 she turned his question, which savored91 only of sentimental gallantry, to good account, and said quietly, "You know the only 'style of compliment' that I like, and you enriched me with it at Mrs. Byram's company,—the promise you made me."
Harcourt sighed involuntarily. She seemed too angelic,—too far above and beyond him. As with a ministering spirit from heaven, her only thought was to win him from evil. Her face was pale from the hidden conflict which had cost her more dearly than he would ever know. Her eyes beamed upon him with a gentle, yet sweet, strange, spiritual light. She scarcely appeared flesh and blood. But he was very human, and his heart craved from her human love and earthly solace92. Though now, as at other times, this seemed as presumptuous93 to him as if some devotee had sacrilegiously fallen in love with his fair patron saint, still he felt a sudden and strong irritation94 that they should be so far apart.
She misunderstood his sigh, and added, "Am I a hard task-mistress?"
He shook his head, but there was dejection in his tone as he replied, "There have been many forms of idolatry in the world, but I have thought that those who worshipped the stars must have become a little discouraged at times,—they are so far off."
Her face had the pained expression of one misunderstood, but who cannot well explain. She said only, "Idolatry is ever profitless." She meant to hint, he thought, that his worship of her certainly would be.
He was chilled at heart. His quick, impetuous spirit prompted him towards recklessness. She saw that he was about to leave abruptly. As she played to win him, not for herself, but heaven, she saw that she had made a mistaken move, though she could not understand his manner. In her maidenly95 pride and delicacy96, she would have let him go if she had thought only of herself; but, conscious of her other motive97, she could seek to detain him, and asked, "What did you mean, Mr. Harcourt, by your fanciful allusion98 to star-worship?"
"I meant," he replied bitterly, "that to ordinary flesh and blood, kneeling in the cold before a distant star, be it ever so bright, is rather chilling and discouraging. The Greeks were shrewder. They had goddesses with warm, helping99 hands, and with a little sympathetic, human imperfection."
It hurt her cruelly that he so misjudged her; and in her confusion, she again said that which he interpreted wrongly.
"It is folly, then, to worship anything so cold and distant." She was about to add plainly, "I am neither a star nor a goddess, but a sincere, human friend,—human as yourself." She was about to make some delicate allusion to the time when he often sought her sisterly advice. But he, in the blindness of strong feeling, saw in her words only rebuke100 for the presumption101 of his love, and he harshly interrupted her.
"No doubt it is; but let me remind you of a fact often true in missionary102 experience. After the poor devils have been bereft103 of the objects of their fond and credulous104 worship, by proof that their deities105 are indifferent, they cease to have any faith at all"; and with a cold and rather formal bow he left her side and also left the church.
Miss Martell's head bent lower than ever over her work, and it was a long time before she lifted it or spoke to any one. But the others were occupied with themselves, and no one had noted this little side scene save Addie, who pouted106 that Harcourt had remained, but not at her side, after his expressed intention of leaving. No one surmised that two who had been present were sorely hurt. When we receive our slight cuts and bruises107 through life, there are usually outcry and abundant sympathy. But when we receive our deep wounds, that leave scars, often only God knows; and it is best so, for He can heal, but the world can only probe.
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1
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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analyze
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| vt.分析，解析 (=analyse) | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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morbidly
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| adv.病态地 | |
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conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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mercurial
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| adj.善变的，活泼的 | |
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temperaments
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| 性格( temperament的名词复数 )； （人或动物的）气质； 易冲动； （性情）暴躁 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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apathetic
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| adj.冷漠的，无动于衷的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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pertaining
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| 与…有关系的，附属…的，为…固有的(to) | |
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piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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disinterestedness
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woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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impulsiveness
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| n.冲动 | |
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ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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56
hemlock
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| n.毒胡萝卜，铁杉 | |
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severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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63
satire
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| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
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64
barb
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| n.（鱼钩等的）倒钩，倒刺 | |
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inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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auto
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| n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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premise
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| n.前提；v.提论，预述 | |
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68
manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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deign
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| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
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frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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citadel
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| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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savored
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| v.意味，带有…的性质( savor的过去式和过去分词 )；给…加调味品；使有风味；品尝 | |
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solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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presumptuous
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| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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maidenly
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| adj. 像处女的, 谨慎的, 稳静的 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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101
presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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102
missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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103
bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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104
credulous
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| adj.轻信的，易信的 | |
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105
deities
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| n.神，女神( deity的名词复数 )；神祗；神灵；神明 | |
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pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
bruises
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| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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