Say and Seal, Volume I

Faith's laugh, which was indeed very low but unavoidable, was the first testimony.

"I hope you may—" said Mr. Linden,—"the words sound pleasant. I am not quite sure what they mean."

"Ah! There you are again!" said Miss Essie. "As difficult to catch at other things as at blind man's buff. Well I'll be frank with you, for I don't mean to offend you. I mean, the sort of people who are called 'rigidly righteous'—people who think it incumbent on them to be better than their neighbours."

"O no—" said Mr. Linden,—"I quite disclaim that. I only think it incumbent on me to be better than myself."

"Yes, but you are one of the people I mean—aren't you?"

"Not according to that term, Miss Essie. May I ask what you mean by the other?"

"Rigidly righteous?"

"Yes."

"Why I told you—people that pretend to be better than people in general. People in general, you know, get on without pretending much to be good at all: and of course it's disagreeable to be brought short up at every turn with 'you ought not,' and 'you ought;' and whether it is said or acted don't make much difference. Now here's this child, a little while ago, thought she mustn't say anything was good but a minister.

"Do you mean Christians?" said Mr. Linden.

"Well—" said Miss Essie, "I hope we're all Christians—aren't we?We're not heathens."

"I mean the followers of Christ. Is that what you meant? I do wear the badge of that 'Legion of Honour.'"

Miss Essie looked fidgeted. Faith was letting her ice-cream melt while she listened. Mrs. Stoutenburgh in the midst of supper-table attentions gave an anxious eye and ear to the conference, which she would not interrupt.

"Well now tell me what you mean by that?" said Miss Essie, feeling herself in some confusion, of terms at least.

"Can I find plainer words? You know what was meant by a follower in the old feudal times?"

"No I don't," said Miss Essie beginning to sip her coffee again. "Tell me!"

"A follower was one who binding himself to the service his lord required of him, thenceforth paid it—in peace or in war,—to the end of his life. And the terms of agreement were two-fold,—fidelity on the one side, protection on the other. 'They follow me,' says Christ, 'and I give unto them eternal life.'"

"Yes, but," said Miss Essie, "do you think it is required that we should put ourselves so much out of the way to be good? I think people were meant to enjoy themselves."

"_I _enjoy myself—" said Mr. Linden smiling a little. "What think you makes the lark fly circling up into the very sunbeams, singing as lie goes?—is it duty? is it to rise above the robins and sparrows?"

"I don't understand you!" said Miss Essie respectfully.

"That is just the inner life of many a Christian,—his very heart-cry is,

'Nearer, my God, to thee!
Nearer to thee!
E'en though it be a cross,
That raiseth me!'—"

"Well, you think nobody can be safe that don't live just so?" persistedMiss Essie.

"In whom such a life is not at least begun?—How can it be, Miss Essie?Safe? without the blessing of God?"

"Well there we differ," said the lady. "That's what I mean by being rigidly righteous. I think every one must judge for himself."

A little more erect Mr. Linden stood, drawing himself up slightly—it was his wont sometimes under a touch of excitement, and spoke with his deep emphasis these words—

"'This is life eternal, to know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.'—Miss Essie, where is your permit for free judgment against the Bible?"

"I didn't mean that," said Miss Essie, lowering her crest. "But I mean that everybody can't be good after your strict way."

"I am not standing up for myself, you know," said he pleasantly, "nor denying that you have described me right; but what a follower of Christ ought to be, is no more rigid than sunlight—or than the wings of angels. Yet both sun and angels 'always do his commandment' who made them both."

"Oh people can't be sunlight—nor angels neither, in this world. You'reUtopian! That's what I said."

"They can be 'burning and shining lights,'" said Mr. Linden. "MissEssie, will you gainsay the Bible? Why can they not?"

"They can be—but I suppose they aren't obliged to be; or what is to become of us all?" said Miss Essie, half seriously half defiantly.

"That will depend upon whom we follow," he answered gravely.

"Well now, Mr. Linden, how many people in the world are 'followers' in the way you have described them?—and are all the rest going to destruction? Take the people in this room now, for instance,—boys and all here's twenty of us perhaps. How many do you suppose are here of your way of 'following'? You're one—who's another? Stand off there, and see whom you can get to join you!"

"Stand off and say with Moses—'who is on the Lord's side?'—there would be several, Miss Essie."

"Well count up," said Miss Essie. "I suppose they have no objection to shew themselves. You are one—who's another?"

"I am another," said Faith, rising and setting down her ice cream.

"You!"—said Miss Essie turning the black eyes upon her,—"you look like it, child!"

"You must put the 'rigid' out of your head," Mr. Linden said, with a smile which changed as he spoke.

"Well who else?" said Miss Essie, for some reason or other in an impatient temper. "Tell them your definition, will you, and ask who'll stand by you. Mrs. Stoutenburgh!—make them all stop and attend."

"If I ask them you may think they come to please me."

"No, no, you know how to say it. Mr. Stoutenburgh!—boys!—listen. I want to know how many there are here of a particular kind of people—Mr. Linden will tell you what kind."

He spoke then—as Faith had once or twice heard him speak, sending his voice through the room almost without raising it.

"Miss Essie de Staff wishes to know how many there are here of a particular kind of people—those that 'have sworn unto the Lord, and will not go back.' Whoever is of that number will please come over to this side."

There was a little astonished pause. Mr. and Mrs. Stoutenburgh, just then at the further end of the room, had moved at Miss Essie's summons, but stopped short at the first sound of Mr. Linden's voice, and looked in a sort of maze,—he clearly was not jesting, that was all they could make out. That too the boys saw: but for a minute they stood like statues,—then Reuben stepped from the group and walked quietly, deliberately, over to where Mr. Linden stood; the covenant-signing in his face glowing with the Free Church addition—"until death!"

One and another followed him—one after another,—Faith was surprised to see how many: ranging themselves about Mr. Linden. But something in it all touched him—stirred him,—something perhaps personal to himself and them; for after the first three or four had come he looked no more,—his eyes fell, and the firmly compressed lips could not quite conceal their trembling. He stood as statue-like as the boys had done.

In the interest of a moment and a scene that she never forgot, it was a simple thing that Faith lost thought of her own standing. Perhaps Miss Essie shared her oblivion of self for that minute; her look of uneasy curiosity changed to a sobriety that was almost awe. Perhaps self-recollection came back; for after eying the dumb show with uncommonly blank black eyes, both they and she suddenly started into action.

"That will do," she said with voice and gesture,—"you may go back—scatter! and be boys again. Mr. Linden, what I complain of is, that you say you are on the Lord's side and that everybody else is not!"

His thoughts came back slowly, as from some far distant region,—he even turned to Faith and wheeled up a chair for her before he answered.