The Scripture Club of Valley Rest, on the fourth day of its assembling, found itself a fixed and famous institution. Some of the members had at first regretted that no one of the smaller rooms in the church edifice was unoccupied at the hour of session; but this regret was soon abandoned, for the reason that neither the pastors study nor the regular Bible class-room, had either been available at the noon-day hour, would have been large enough to accommodate the class and its visitors. The main audience-room was the only one which was adequate to the requirements of the class. When the benediction was pronounced after the morning sermon, a large portion of the congregation remained, and, instead of chatting leisurely with the occupants of neighboring pews and preventing the exit of unsociable people, they hurried to the seats nearest the corner occupied by the class. Even then, those who came last were occasionally compelled to exclaim "Louder!" for the attendants of the Second Church did not compose the entire body of hearers. Members of the five other churches in the town, though loath to depart from their denominational associations and pride so far as to worship elsewhere, were not only without scruples against listening to an informal body like the Scripture Club, but hurried from their own places of worship to the Second Church, and some of them were suspected even of staying away from their own services in order to reach the Scripture Club in time to secure good seats.
The effect of all this upon the Club was stimulating in high degree. Its first effect was to decrease whatever tendency to personality existed; whatever might be the week-day opinions of the members about each other, on Sunday every one tacitly agreed to the application of the Satanic rule that religion is religion, and business is business. Some special effort was necessary to bring Squire Woodhouse to forget, for an hour in the week, his burned barn and the action of President Lottson's insurance company; but finally the Squire's pride closed his lips upon this tender subject. Members, who before had possessed no religious ideas excepting those they had adopted at second-hand, now began to think for themselves, and being men of natural wits well sharpened by business experience, they speedily developed theories of their own, and strengthened their own pet positions. The few religious books of reference in the village library—many of them having once been gladly given to the library by the very men who now sought them—were in demand at early morn and dewy eve, pastors' libraries were ransacked, and some members even consulted booksellers, and purchased works bearing upon their own special lines of thought and belief. Respect for the ideas of others did not necessarily imply assent, so discussion was frequent and animated. Champions of the faith—as delivered unto themselves—were numerous, and assailants of the truth as held by the orthodox were in sufficient numbers to keep their antagonists from lapsing into a condition of mere assertion. And over and around everything, like a glorious halo, was the assurance, always prominent, that free speech would not only be welcomed, but that the lack of it, from any motive of fear or conservatism, would greatly be regretted by every member.
The discussion of the first beatitude consumed the time of four entire sessions, and during all these days it was in vain that Mr. Hopper carried the review containing the paper on "The True Location of the Holy Sepulchre." When, on the fifth day, Deacon Bates asked whether any other members had anything to say on the subject under consideration, Captain Maile made answer:
"Call it a drawn fight, and give it up at that; if any man here had been whipped, he wouldn't know it."
"Oh, come, come!" said Squire Woodhouse, "I'll join issue with you on that. I want to know what 'poor in spirit' means, and have a share in the kingdom of heaven——"
"But you don't want to know where or what the kingdom is," interrupted Mr. Jodderel.
"Yes, I do; but I want first to know what poor in spirit means. I feel pretty sure about it now, but——"
"That's it, exactly," said Captain Maile. "But—but you don't want to be anything that interferes with business. Give us something easier, Mr. Leader."
There were some indignant whispers of dissent, but none of them were audible enough to attract the attention of the class, and Deacon Bates read the next verse.
"Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted," read Deacon Bates. "Brother Prymm, will you open the discussion of this beatitude?"
"There is none other more precious to the earthly nature," said Mr. Prymm, "and yet the passage proves the comprehensiveness peculiar to inspired words. Sin and perplexity are the lot of all mortals, and they bring trouble with them; but the single sorrow which raises man up to God, and brings God down to man, is mourning. It may be done from sinful causes—upon earth—but whatever the cause, the act itself shows us how near God is to us, and what are his sentiments usward. He knows from the greatness and purity of his own nature how intense this sentiment may be, and his sympathy shows itself so tenderly in no other way as by this promise, that he will come to his children and comfort them when they are in sorrow. What an evidence of the need of a God does this promise afford! Where else can we turn for true comfort when in trouble? Earthly friends lack that knowledge of us from which alone true sympathy can come; the pleasure of the flesh can give us nothing better than temporary forgetfulness; but the divine sympathy is perfect in its knowledge, timely and appropriate in its expression, and incalculable in its force and endurance."
"I am glad to offer my weak testimony in support of the remarks of Brother Prymm," said Builder Stott, who came next in the order of rotation. "I have had my sad experiences in this world,—all of you have had yours, I suppose,—but it seems to me that mine have been peculiar. I've trusted men and been swindled by them. I've been abused for things that I never thought of doing. I've lost dear ones that left places that have never been filled and never can be, and I have found no one whose words could be more than a mockery—one that wasn't intended, of course, but that hurt just as badly as if it had. It has been only when on my knees, or praying silently as I walked the street, that I found a sympathizing friend. There can be no doubt in me about what that passage means—I know all about it by blessed experience."
"So do I," said Mr. Buffle. "I've been what men call fortunate in this world's affairs, but if any one here thinks that money can buy exemption from misery, I want to tell him that he's greatly mistaken. I lost a child two or three years ago—some of you remember her; I'd have changed places with the cheapest workman in my shipyard—yes, the most miserable beggar in the street—if by doing so I could have brought her back again. But money couldn't do it, and, as our friend Stott has just remarked, the best of earthly friends couldn't take the sting away. I can't say that God's comfort came just when I most wanted it, but God is good and wise; he sent it when he thought best, and it was full of blessing when it came. It doesn't heal wounds to be comforted by Heaven—the wounds remain as tender as ever; but the pain and the feeling of hopelessness depart, and a man is made to feel like the wounded soldier, or the wrecked, starved sailor when help comes—he knows he has a friend to lean upon."
Mr. Buffle felt for his handkerchief and applied it to his eyes; an operation which, in spite of his great-heartedness, he seldom had occasion to perform in public: meanwhile Broker Whilcher said:
"I don't agree with every one here, as most of you know; but the beautiful promise which forms the subject of our lesson to-day has been fulfilled to me. I can't explain how, but I profess to be too much of a man to deny what I learn by experience, even when I can't ascertain who my teacher is. My own great ups and downs of life have been principally social, and, as has been remarked by others, they are the hardest of any to bear. And somehow—I wish I could learn how—I have been helped, soothed, sustained, whenever I could abandon myself to the influence of whatever higher power it is that looks to the hearts of men and sees that they are not entirely crushed."
"The older a man grows in years and experience," said Judge Cottaway, without his official cough, "the greater his experience of sorrow. The exercise of wisdom may prevent some troubles that carelessness and ignorance may induce, but even then there is more of misery in life than any human influences can avert. I believe, after much deliberation upon the evidence adduced from the affairs of men, that the Comforter is also the one who afflicts in many cases; but so certain am I of his wisdom and goodness that I would never avert his chastening hand. The cry of Christ in the garden, 'O, my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt,' should be the sentiment of every one that is in affliction. That more bitter cry that was sounded from the Cross may also be, without sin, re-echoed by the human soul in trouble; but every one learns, by blessed experience, that the soul is never forsaken, and that our sorrows are known to Heaven better than they are to ourselves."
Mr. Jodderel sat next, and Squire Woodhouse whispered to his nearest neighbor:
"Too bad; he'll bring in the kingdom of heaven and pit it against the Ring." But to the astonishment of every one, Mr. Jodderel said only:
"No one knows more of this blessed Comforter than I. My childish days were heavily clouded; I was abused in youth; I am misunderstood now; I have lost dear ones; a long procession has preceded me to the grave, each member of it leaving my heart more lonely than before, and the time has come when I am too old to search for new friends and dear ones. But upon my knees, or as I commune with him upon my bed in the night season, or when I read his precious promises given by word of mouth or through his holy prophets, I find consolation and hope and cheer, and forget that I am a lonely old man in an unsympathetic world."
"Captain Maile?" said Leader Bates, and the ex-warrior responded:
"Everything I have heard this morning agrees with my own experience, and no matter what doubters may say and hypocrites may help them to make people believe, I can never forget the special blessings I have received in affliction, and when I have least expected them."
Squire Woodhouse sat next to Captain Maile, and joined in the general acknowledgment by saying:
"You all know me, my friends; you know I've often had a pretty hard row to hoe, for often it's been in a shape that hoeing couldn't help. But when the worst has come, and I couldn't do anything but stand still and endure it; when I couldn't shake it off, or forget it, or improve it any way, there came in just when I couldn't expect it, or see how it could happen even with God managing it; when every one I leaned on failed me, and I had to shut myself up in my own miserable heart—then there came a visitor that made himself at home, helped me, changed me, made a new man of me, and showed me that the worst chance of man is the best one for God—blessings on his holy name forever."
Then Dr. Fahrenglotz said:
"For myself, I have no family ties. I never knew my parents, for they entered into the unknowable while I was yet a babe; I have had neither brother nor sister, but I have had friends, and they have passed away, leaving my heart as empty as if it had never contained any other denizen. I have felt the last pulsation of the heart-dealings of many of you, and have watched you afterward with a solicitude which it might have seemed officious for me to have expressed. And to myself and to others I have known true, mysterious comfort to come, I know not from where; the great outer, the intangible envelope of the human heart, is hidden from my sight and thought; but from it I know there comes a subtle mystery whose influence transcends that of mortals, and which influence is tender, soothing, and lasting—an influence which I cannot characterize more aptly than to say that it must come from some one or some principle of nature akin to that of Him whom most religious bodies denominate The Great Physician."
"Excuse me, gentlemen," said young Mr. Banty, who had come in late, and had, sorely against his will, been compelled to occupy a seat among those whom he called "the Saints;" "Excuse me; I didn't come in to say anything to-day, but, things going as they are, I can't be quiet. I went abroad a year ago; most of you know why. There was a lady in the question. She died; I suppose it was best for her, for I didn't, in the slightest degree, begin to be fit for her, but her death didn't hurt me any the less. I haven't, since then, been as good a man as I should have been. I don't mind saying that the ways in which I've tried to forget my trouble haven't been such as have done me any good. But as everybody else has opened his heart to-day, I wouldn't be a bit of a man if I kept mine shut. I want to say that when I have a quiet hour, and get to thinking about that girl, there's something happens that I don't understand, but I'm very thankful for. I got to be a great deal less despairing, though, at the same time, I think a great deal more tenderly about her. I lose my ugliness at losing her; I see how much better it was for her; I see how things had better go as they should than as I want them, and I come out of that time less willing to go on a spree, less anxious to see the boys, and more anxious to go on thinking than to do anything else."
The order of rotation demanded that the next speaker should be Mr. Alleman, and that gentleman remarked:
"I am heartily glad to see that there is one ground upon which all of us can meet. Those of you who know me know what frequent occasion I have had to learn all that you have learned of the unspeakable power of a comforting God. I have instinctively passed the greater portion of my life in my affections, for I know of no other sentiment which is so all-comprehensive; and through these I have found daily new causes for mourning. We are informed by Jesus that the greatest of all commandments is that enjoining love toward God, and that the second is like unto it, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' To try to fulfill this command is to have constant incentives to mournfulness. Every day I have them, from some cause heretofore unexpected, and the causes involve so many other people in troubles, which might be avoided, and for which I can blame only myself, that but for the presence of the Comforter I would be driven to despair or madness. What a tremendous responsibility rests upon us, my friends, in this our greatest relation to humanity, and how impossible it would be to endure it unless aided by a power greater than our own. I cannot, by any words, express my satisfaction at hearing so many men, and, in other religious matters, men of such differing views, testify to the unfailing promptness of the Great Sympathizer. And I should be glad to hear a wider expression of experiences, and assure myself that, in troubles outside the range purely personal, my fellow-beings enjoy the comfort that I do. I am confident that the recital of such experiences would strengthen every one for greater works of humanity and love."
There was a dead silence for several minutes, and the leader finally relieved the uncomfortable sensation of the members by asking:
"Has any one any other remarks to offer?"
No one responded.
"The next lesson, which we will hardly have time to begin to-day, will be upon the third beatitude," said Deacon Bates. "The class may consider itself dismissed, I suppose."
"Now, wasn't that just like Alleman?" asked Squire Woodhouse of Captain Maile. "We were having the most heavenly time I ever did know inside of a church, and he utterly ruined it."
"The rest of you didn't act a bit as if you'd ruined yourselves, did you?" asked the Captain, in reply.
"Why, how?" asked the Squire.
"Eyes have they, but they see not," answered the Captain, starting abruptly for his carriage.
The members of the club spent a whole week in trying to recover from the bad effects of Mr. Alleman's peculiar and untimely harangue, and even then they did not succeed.
"We were getting into such an unusual, such a heavenly state of mind," explained Mr. Hopper, "and the Lord knows that heavenly states of mind are scarce enough anywhere under the best of circumstances. We were forgetting all the tricks, the games that had been come upon us in the discussion of other points on which the brethren had made up their minds, and picked out their trees to hide behind; and we were having just the happy, quiet, sympathetic time which a man knows how to appreciate when he's knocked about the world for a little while, when all of a sudden Alleman must come in, and spring some of his peculiar notions upon us. I don't see why the Lord lets such men torment the world about religious affairs. They're good enough in every other way."
Other members of the class wondered also; and when, on the following Sunday, Deacon Bates asked if any one else had any remarks to make on the late lesson, nobody answered. So the leader read:
"'Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.' Judge Cottaway"—the Deacon had skillfully inveigled the Judge into a front seat before the discussion began, so as to have a strong and respectable opening—"we would be glad to learn your views of this passage."
"I take it to mean," answered the Judge, "that meekness is a virtue so highly esteemed by the Almighty, that he offers, as an incentive to its cultivation, the most highly valued of earthly inducements. Meekness seems to be the antithesis, the exact opposite of strife, and so much of strife is so causeless and harmful, yet so attractive to the ordinary mind, that those who indulge in it are by this passage warned by implication. Meekness is not a virtue of such greatness as poverty of spirit, as may be inferred from the smaller reward promised to those who practice it, and——"
"I want to correct the gentleman right there," exclaimed Mr. Jodderel. "What earth are they to inherit? This earth? Why, everybody laughs at that notion. A man's got to fight awfully hard to get anything in this world, and harder yet to keep whatever he gets. The path of meekness leads but to the poor-house. The earth alluded to evidently means the new earth, which, in the Revelation, John beheld, in connection with the new heaven. That new earth appeared after the destruction of the old one; and for what could it have appeared but to be populated by the redeemed spirits from this? That was the kingdom of heaven, and the text before us evidently refers to it. 'The meek shall inherit the earth;' the apostles, to whom this passage was spoken, needed no more definite expression about the matter, of which the Master doubtless had spoken many times with them. The whole passage seems to me an exact repetition of the one before it, just to give emphasis to the first."
"I wonder if that's exactly straight?" remarked Squire Woodhouse, more with the air of a man in a soliloquy than one asking a question. "If there is a way of inheriting the earth, or even a little piece of it, I'd like to know all about it; but if its only the next world that the passage refers to——"
"If it refers only to the next world, you're not in such a hurry to understand it," interrupted Captain Maile.
"We—ell," drawled the Squire, "that isn't exactly the way I was going to finish off, but I guess it's pretty near the truth. It don't sound well either, does it?"
"Brother Prymm?" said Deacon Bates, and the champion of orthodoxy responded to the invitation by saying,
"The meek are undoubtedly those who follow the non-resistant injunctions which are found everywhere in the New Testament; they are the men who when one cheek is struck turn the other also, who render not railing for railing."
"And who, when the coat is taken, will offer the cloak also," added Captain Maile.
"Certainly," said Mr. Prymm, with rather a wry face, "though I cannot, with any present light, see how the latter course would be practical and judicious. The other injunctions are but amplifications of the inspired saying, 'A soft answer turneth away wrath,' but how property rights can be maintained at all, if the injunction quoted by Captain Maile were followed, I am unable to see."
"It wouldn't work in the steamboat business," declared Mr. Buffle. "It's hard enough to get the worth of your money, even when men promise to pay; but if a man were to understand that by stealing one of my tug-boats he would have a right to expect a first-class lake packet as a present, I'd have to go out of business within a fortnight."
"I'm inclined to think the passage in question must be an interpolation by one of Christ's reporters," said President Lottson, who had been taking a cautious course of Matthew Arnold.
"Why, if I were to live up to that injunction," said Builder Stott, "folks would want to modify their house plans every day. In fact they do it now. The moment I try to oblige a man by giving a little more than his contract calls for, he wants something else. Women in particular are perfectly awful that way; they——"
"Ladies are present," remarked Lawyer Scott, who was considerable of a ladies' man.
"Just think of a broker trying to do business in that way!" exclaimed Broker Whilcher.
"Or a man whose principal crop is hay," said Squire Woodhouse.
"Or an importer of English cutlery," suggested Mr. Jodderel. "Still, the passage ought either to be explained away or lived up to, for if going contrary to business rules is necessary to inherit the new earth—it's contrary to sense that this earth can be got hold of by any such unbusiness-like operation—the new earth, otherwise the kingdom of heaven——"
"Members will please bear in mind the rule that remarks are to be made in regular order," interposed the leader hastily. "We will hear from Brother Hopper."
"I suppose meekness means patience," said the gentleman addressed, nervously clutching his coat-tail pocket with its precious contents; "not getting into a stew about everything, in fact; but how a man is to be so, when everything goes on the way it shouldn't, is more than I can tell, and how they're going to get the earth for their pains is a bigger puzzle yet."
Mr. Lottson being called upon, said:
"I can only repeat about this passage my remarks upon the one which preceded it. It means exactly what it says, but it means it only in a spiritual sense, and only to those to whom it was said—to the disciples of Christ, and those whose conditions of life are equally admirable and peculiar. The disciples were meek—all but Peter, that is—and he stopped being a man of the world after he learned that he couldn't be that and a consistent disciple too. And look at the result! Haven't the disciples of Christ inherited the earth? Hasn't the blood of the martyrs been the seed of the Church? Hasn't the non-resistent, patient, self-sacrificing course of Christian missionaries led to the conversion of powerful heathen nations, opened avenues of trade between them and Christian countries——"
"Which have straightway been traveled over by men who rob the heathen, poison them with rum, and kill them off with the popular vices of civilization," interrupted Captain Maile.
"Opened avenues of trade between them and Christian countries," resumed President Lottson, as if no interruption had occurred, "created a demand for the Bible and the school, discouraged war, extended the area of production, established representative governments in the place of irresponsible despotisms, brought from foreign lands, to study our institutions, men whose fathers and grandfathers were brutal savages, and hastened the coming of the day when at the name of Jesus every knee shall bend and every tongue confess him Lord? Business alone could never have done this; it required a special development of mind, and to those whom he had created for this purpose Jesus enounced this promise, which was the only one that in the nature of things could be made to them about earthly interests."
"I declare!" whispered Squire Woodhouse to Mr. Buffle, "Lottson did that splendidly. If it wasn't for the way he treated me about that barn I should say that Lottson ought to have gone into the ministry." At the same moment Deacon Bates called Mr. Prymm to the chair, took the floor himself, and said:
"There was a remark dropped by Mr. Lottson, and followed up in his excellent speech, which I am certain conceals a truth which is not clearly enough realized. If it was, a number of puzzling questions that have been before the class could have easily been answered. He said the passage should be taken in a spiritual sense. It certainly should. God is a Spirit; our own spirits are our only immortal parts; everything else in us and everything around us is transient and perishable. The meek should be meek in a spiritual way; they should not be puffed up with knowledge, or what they think to be such, but should in humility open their hearts to the influences of the Holy Spirit. Business has nothing to do with our eternal welfare; it is only one of the necessary but transient affairs of our perishable, material bodies; but the things unseen are eternal. If we would constantly keep this fact in our minds I am sure many of our present difficulties in studying the Scriptures would disappear. This earth is not our abiding place; our time here is but short; 'A thousand years are but as a day in His sight;' heaven is our final and eternal home, and it was to instruct us how to prepare our souls for the future state of existence that the prophets spoke and Jesus came to earth."
"According to that, it don't matter how we do business," said Squire Woodhouse; "every man can be just as sharp and underhanded as he pleases. Well, it's a comfortable belief, but I think you're mistaken, Deacon, about its being lost sight of; I think pretty much everybody lives up to it, as far as business goes."
"Dr. Fahrenglotz," remarked the leader, in evident confusion at the moral deduced from his theory.
"Although not attaching to the words that degree of authority that some do," said the Doctor, "their unselfish tendency and their moral beauty convince me that they have an important meaning. That they can apply to the common affairs of life I cannot believe, for the theory is contrary to reason and experience. They probably refer to some coming state of society when the application of true reason shall have raised men above their present physical and moral level, and enabled them to translate the mystic sayings of the worlds great seers."
"Then the passage doesn't command anything that's really essential to salvation?" asked young Mr. Waggett.
"Oh, no, certainly not," said Captain Maile. "Nothing does, or if it does, our business is to get around it somehow, and look at some other side of it."
The leader called upon Mr. Alleman, who said:
"The simple fact that this saying was given is sufficient excuse and command to follow it, no matter what it brings us or takes from us. As, however, the material bearing of the passage has attracted more attention to-day than the manifest desire of Christ, I wish to recall to notice the peculiar wording. Jesus does not say that the meek shall earn or acquire the earth, but that they shall inherit it. An inheritance is something that the child obtains from the parent through love and affection. The passage means: 'Be meek, not given to strife, not stirring up wrath, attending to your own affairs, not assuming to be better or more deserving than others;' and God, who owns the earth and all that is in it, who makes man his steward, who pulleth down one and setteth up another, who knows the uses of property better than we do, and who sooner or later puts it into proper hands, will give you the earth. Be meek, and trust to God for appreciation, even upon earth."
"One o'clock," observed President Lottson, and the session closed.
"Now wasn't that just like Alleman?" asked Squire Woodhouse of Mr. Jodderel. "Beautiful idea—perfectly heavenly; but nothing in it that a man can take hold of without running the risk of losing some of his property. He'd better not talk that way before the city booksellers, if he don't want to have to pay cash for every bill of books he buys."
And Captain Maile walked out singing to himself, but in a tone loud enough to be offensive, the old song beginning,
The Scripture Club proceeded promptly to work on the ensuing Sunday. Too many men had brought to the previous meeting ideas which they could not find time to express; so on the second Sunday in which the nature and reward of the meek were considered, the members who had not expressed their views, with several who had, made haste to occupy front seats, so as to be sure of opportunities to speak.
Among these was Squire Woodhouse. He had several times ruined the regularity of the proceedings of other meetings, but still he was unsatisfied. He had not expressed his own views in full, partly because he had not been asked to do so, but principally because he had had no settled views to express. Now, however, the case was different. He had leisurely pondered over everything that he had heard in the class, he had admired each original idea with the true American heartiness toward new notions, he had endeavored to reconcile them with his unformulated but still very positive preconceived religious opinions, and his honesty had finally triumphed over his theology and his sophistry. When he came to church, therefore, he neglected his own pew and took the front seat and the extreme right end thereof, so when Deacon Bates opened the exercises of the class immediately after service, it was impossible not to call upon Squire Woodhouse first of all. The Squire cleared his throat, waved his head about in a dissatisfied manner, and finally said:
"This thing of being meek grows pretty big when you think about it for a little while, and the worst of it is that everything else in the chapter is only a chip out of the same block. All of it—being meek and everything else—seems to come in the end to just this: you mustn't be like folks in general, particularly like business men. I confess that I don't know exactly how to do it all, but it seems to me it must be done by any one who believes that Jesus Christ had the right to say all that he did. I don't know how to be meek about the way I was swindled—treated, I mean—by the insurance companies when my barn burned down——"
"Personal!" whispered Mr. Prymm.
"I don't care if it is personal," said Squire Woodhouse. "I'm trying to point a moral, and it isn't my fault if other folks get in the way and get hurt. I don't know how to be meek when I'm abused, but——"
"It isn't required of you," said Mr. Jodderel. "You're expected to take care of what has been intrusted to you in your capacity as a steward of the Lord."
Many were the affirmative shakes of head which followed this remark.
"I suppose I am," said the Squire, "and so long as I am a human being I won't be likely to forget it; but whether when I get mad over being swindled the anger all comes from my feeling of being deprived of the Lord's property, I'm not so sure: I've a suspicion that more of it comes from the heart of Squire Woodhouse than from the kingdom of heaven."
"Not a bit of it," said Mr. Hopper, finding at last a subject upon which he could speak from the abundance of his heart. "Aren't you working for the good of your family, and don't St. Paul say that the man who don't look out for his family is worse than an infidel?"
"Yes," said the Squire meditatively; "but he don't tell you to boil over when there's nothing to be gained by it, and when getting mad makes you uninteresting to everybody, not excepting yourself. He doesn't tell you to let your suspicions manage your wits, and determine what sort of a man your neighbor is. The man who gets the best of me in a trade may be a scoundrel; I've always made it a rule to think so, in fact; but when I come to think of it, I remember that I've sometimes made a hard, sharp trade myself without meaning anything wrong."
"You never carried back the unfair gains, though, when you saw what you'd done, did you?" asked Captain Maile.
"Well, no; not that I can recollect. I have tried to make it up to the man in some way or other, though."
"Taking pains to tell him why you were trying to do it?" asked the Captain.
"No—no, I can't say that I did—I don't know that I ever succeeded in doing it, any how," said the Squire honestly. "I'd think it over, off and on, and before I'd know it, the whole thing would fall out of my mind."
"So all you did was to ease your conscience—sing it to sleep, so to speak," continued the Captain. "You gave him all the good feeling you could, which you couldn't help giving any way, because you're naturally a good-hearted fellow, and then when you'd comforted yourself your work stopped."
"That's about the truth of the matter," replied the Squire, "though I didn't mean to out with it all so plainly before folks."
"Then," asked the Captain, "what's the moral difference between you and a rascal?"
"Sh—h—h—h" arose in chorus, even President Lottson taking part in the remonstrance.
"There isn't any," said the Squire stoutly, "if everybody's a rascal that's called one. But anybody that has the honest feelings I have, and that loves the square thing so much, and likes so much to see it done, isn't a rascal, and as I've had the kind of experiences I've told about, I don't see why other men that have had others like them, and that are called ugly names by me as well as everybody else, mayn't be just as right at heart as I am. After this I'm going to believe them so, any how."
There was a general nod of assent, and President Lottson arose, went around to where the Squire was sitting, and offered his hand to the loser of the barn. The Squire took it, rather gingerly at first, but finally gave it a squeeze so hearty that President Lottson winced and drew his hand away.
"There!" exclaimed Captain Maile; "everything is all right now, of course. Goodness don't consist in doing right, but only in feeling right. Not what you do, but what you believe is what saves a man."
"Such is the decree of God and the decision of the Church," remarked Mr. Prymm.
"Then what saints the devils must be!" observed the Captain; "for they believe, though, to be sure, they tremble."
Another murmur of dissent was heard, and young Mr. Waggett hastened to throw a small quantity of oil on the troubled waters by remarking that whatever was sufficient to salvation was the fulfillment of God's plan as revealed in the holy Scriptures.
"I'm not through yet," said the Squire. "I was coming to that point. Of course, other men make blunders very much like mine. I ought to be meek about judging them—I ought to forgive them their trespasses as I hope to have mine forgiven. But if there's so much excuse to think bad of men for what they do and don't do, we ought to put the cause out of the way, as well as to be patient with others as we'd have them patient with us. If I've had reason so many times to think the worst about church members, I suppose that sinners—sinners outside of the Church—must see them to be just as bad as I do. And if they do, what inducement is there for sinners to come into the Church?"
"Salvation!" promptly answered young Mr. Waggett.
"That's no moral inducement," said the Squire; "it's a selfish one."
"Oh, oh, oh!" exclaimed Builder Stott, supported by a sympathetic sensation which was manifested by most of the members, while Mr. Jodderel sprang to his feet and said—shouted, almost:
"Mr. Chairman, I protest against this drifting away from the subject by talking all sorts of new-fangled notions that——"
"Free speech is the rule of this class," said Captain Maile. "You've given us a great deal about the kingdom of heaven that nobody ever heard of before, that's as unheard of in the Bible or the Church——"
"It is in the Bible," said Mr. Jodderel; "you'll find it in the prophets and apostles from beginning to end."
"I would suggest," said Mr. Prymm, in the most measured and soothing of tones, "that Brother Woodhouse should remember that we have but a single hour in the week to talk upon these subjects, and that however deeply he may be interested in his own peculiar views, it would be well to let all who are present have an opportunity to offer their views."
"Yes, let's get away from morality as soon as we can," said Captain Maile. "What's Sunday good for, if you can't in it get away from these enraging affairs of the week? Nine-tenths of the moral questions in the world are started by business; and who has any right to drag business into the Lord's house on Sunday, and just after a sermon, too?"
Faces confused, awry, angry, and merry, showed that the Captain had aroused a great deal of feeling, which, in sentiment, was not a unit. Deacon Bates would have ordered the immediate relief of the class from extraneous subjects; but he had, from the beginning of the services, groaned over the fact that next to Squire Woodhouse sat Mr. Jodderel, and no one else could be called upon without destroying that rule of rotation upon which the leader generally depended for relief. Silently resolving to pack the front seats on the succeeding Sunday, he said, in tones so subdued as to be almost pathetic:
"Brother Jodderel."
The members looked resignedly into each other's eyes; Mr. Stott turned to the table of Hebrew weights and measures in his Bible, and tried to lose himself in them; Broker Whilcher began slyly ciphering on a card, doubtless to solve some problem of the market; Mr. Alleman buried himself in a school report from some other town; Mr. Hopper re-read to himself the paper on "The True Location of the Holy Sepulchre;" and Mr. Buffle dropped into gentle slumber.
"I want to say," said Mr. Jodderel, "that you can't rightly know how to be meek until you know what's to be required of you in the earth which the meek are to inherit, and you can't know that without knowing where and what that earth is. Now, it can't mean this earth, for if the meek inherited it, it would be stolen away from them precious quickly. What happens to a meek man when somebody hits him without knocking the meekness out of him?—he gets hit again. What happens to him if somebody tries to swindle him out of his property, and he don't show that he won't endure imposition?—he'll be cheated out of every cent. So the meekness that we think about is evidently not the thing for the earth that's to be inherited, and the question is, what is? And that brings us back to the question, What sort of a land are we going to inherit? It——"
"If it is to be the abode of the finally saved and redeemed," said Mr. Radley, "I really don't see that meekness can be enjoined upon its inhabitants, unless we are all mistaken about the nature of the change that will take place after death. Our mental condition will be determined for us, and we can't do better on this earth than act according to what seems the highest order of goodness. I should really like to ask the gentleman if the next world is all that we are to think of while we remain in this one, and whether we are not to guide ourselves somewhat by the rights of other people as well as by our own desires?"
"This earth is not our abiding place," quoted Mr. Prymm; "we have a home not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."
"Certainly," said Mr. Jodderel; "that's correct; it is in the heavens—in the sky—the air above us, in which are suspended all the planetary bodies, one of which——"
"The gentleman has lost sight of my question," said Mr. Radley.
"So will everybody else," remarked Captain Maile. "If you press that question, you'll ruin the interest of this meeting. We didn't come here to learn what we ought to do; we're here to study out what's to be done for us."
"Not a bit of it," said Mr. Buffle, who has slowly awakened from his nap. "I'm not, any way. I'm as fond as any one else of getting anything; but I've already been blessed with more than I deserve, and I want to know what God's will concerning me is on earth as well as in heaven."
"Always providing it don't cost you anything," said Captain Maile.
"Nonsense," replied Mr. Buffle, rather angrily. "I never refused to spend money on any really useful charity."
Several members softly responded, "That's true."
"Yes," said Captain Maile; "you occasionally spend a penny out of a dollar, so to speak, and you deserve credit for it, for very few other men of means go so far; you're ahead of your day and generation. When I carry around a subscription paper for anything, your name always has a handsome sum after it. But do you really mean that you are going through this Sermon on the Mount—if we live long enough to get through it, which is very unlikely at the present rate of progress—and practically agree to what it says?"
Mr. Buffle was cornered; but blessed be corners! There are no other positions in life from which a man can obtain so good a view of himself. Mr. Buffle studied the back of the seat in front of him for a few seconds; looked rather blank, then very modest, then very manly, raised his head, and said:
"Yes, I do."
"Good!" was the only word Captain Maile uttered, while Mr. Jodderel shook his head dismally, and exclaimed:
"Here we are, away from the subject again, Mr. Leader!"
"We can hurry back to it, if the gentleman will answer my question," observed Mr. Radley.
"It's one o'clock," remarked Builder Stott.
The members arose, and most of them departed as soon as possible, while President Lottson turned to Stott, and said:
"You did that just in time."
"Well," said Stott modestly, "something had to be done. This old fight between faith and works has played the mischief wherever it's come up among men, and I'm not going to sit still and see it break up an interesting class like this. I've no other chance to study the Bible except here, and I'm not going to have it ruined by a lot of theorists getting into a row. I'm afraid it's too late, though. Buffle got some new notion into his head when Maile cornered him there; and he never lets go of any thought that strikes him as good. The first thing you'll hear of will be another subscription list, with his name at the head, and he'll go into it with all his might, like he did about the building of this church; and everybody will be worried by him, and he'll drag it in here, and act as if the Bible wasn't anything but a code of every-day morals."
"And forget all about the gospel-plan of salvation," said young Mr. Waggett.
"And the kingdom of heaven," suggested Mr. Jodderel.
"And the atonement, the central truth of the Scriptures," remarked Mr. Prymm; "the vicarious efficacy of the atonement."
"And you'll shut your ears and eyes for fear you might be converted and healed," said Captain Maile.
And the lingerers went straightway every man to his own house.
As the next meeting of the Scripture Club was about to open, certain members noticed that Mr. Jodderel had taken a seat which would entitle him to be the first person called upon for an opinion, and that he was divesting his pockets of a large number of books, most of them in faded and unconventional bindings. The members glanced at each other in terror, and when the opening prayer was concluded, Mr. Radley promptly exclaimed:
"Mr. Leader, the New Testament contains eight thousand verses, lacking two. With occasional quadrennial exceptions, there are but fifty-two Sundays in a year. We have already consumed, on an average, two Sundays to a verse; at this rate we will need more than three hundred years to get through the New Testament. Certain chapters, like the first chapter of Matthew and the third chapter of Luke, may form exceptions; but as no man here can expect to live through much more than one-tenth of the time necessary to consider all the Gospels and Epistles, and as, even at the rate of a verse to a day, we would need to have our lives extended to several times the average longevity of mortals, I move that no single verse of Scripture shall be allowed to monopolize the attention of this class for more than one Sunday."
"I second the motion," said Mr. Alleman.
"Mr. Leader!" exclaimed Mr. Jodderel, "I object. We have spent two Sundays in considering the third beatitude, and we know no more about the whereabouts of the kingdom of heaven than when we began. If the proposed resolution takes effect now, and we find each verse of the Gospel as interesting as those already studied, no one knows how many of us may go from our deathbeds to the bar of God without knowing what to expect thereafter."
"And as God is only our Father, and the maker of the universe, and as we profess only to believe that he is wiser and more loving than any earthly parent, we daren't trust him to make the matter plain in the next world," observed Captain Maile.
"Question!" exclaimed every one who had perceived Mr. Jodderel's collection of books.
The question was put and carried, with but two dissenting voices, that of young Mr. Waggett being one of them. Then the Leader read the verse:
"Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled;" and he asked Mr. Jodderel to open the discussion. The gentleman addressed maintained a sulky silence for about two minutes, and finally remarked:
"This class seems bound to drift from spiritual interests to temporal ones. The discussion of the most important question suggested by revelation has been prevented by an almost unanimous vote, and now we are expected to consider righteousness—mere morality—and its rather dubious earthly reward. Filled? Why, certainly they will be filled. In this late day and age no man studies the moral law without learning more than his mind can hold. Righteousness is good; it is necessary; men need to learn about it, and others need to teach it, but it's an awful come-down for the great fact of a life beyond the grave."
"Certainly," said Captain Maile. "Righteousness is full of annoying little bothers about what ought to be done for other people, while the kingdom of heaven consists only of what is to be done for ourselves. The Bible is crammed full of these tormenting hints, and they always appear just when a man would rather think about something else; being given by divine command, though, as the majority of the class believe they are, I suppose they must be talked about in one way or another."
"They certainly should," said Broker Whilcher, who had been attracted to Mr. Jodderel's side by the array of books which that gentleman had begun to bring into line. "I have a sad reputation in point of orthodoxy, but what Captain Maile admits in sarcasm, I declare in the most solemn earnest. Morality is the order of things, and to a sinner like me, it seems to be a matter of prime importance. The interest which some of the members display in the nature of the kingdom of heaven is quite natural and proper; but how they propose to get there without morality, or, if they please, righteousness, is a puzzle to any man who reads the Bible and notices the importance attached to right conduct."
Deacon Bates promptly called President Lottson to the chair, took the floor himself, during an animated buzz by the class, and delivered with rapidity and emphasis the following speech:
"The method of reaching the better world, other than that of mere right doing, is rightly a matter of wonder to those who do not accept the inspired Word as a divinely designed and revealed plan for the salvation of sinful man. But if any of the good Book has binding force, all of it has; it stands or falls as a whole. We are informed by the apostle whose writings fill half of the New Testament, that 'The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin, which is death. For what the law'—that is, the law of righteousness—'for what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God, sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned the flesh: that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.' And again we are told—oh, blessed assurance to those who find the law of righteousness impossible to fulfill!—that 'Abraham believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness.' And we are also told, by the Saviour himself, that 'God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoso believeth in him shall not perish but have eternal life.' The law cannot be fulfilled by man; we are all imperfect; even when we will to do right the flesh wars against the spirit, and ignorance hinders men of the best intentions from doing what they would do. No man can be saved through the law; excepting Jesus Christ, 'there is no other name under heaven whereby mankind can be saved.' I hope I have answered the gentleman's question in a manner distinct enough to be understood by him and such others here present to whom the Gospel plan of salvation is not as plain as it should be."
Deacon Bates resumed the chair, and Broker Whilcher replied:
"The explanation is perfectly satisfactory, as an answer to my question; but it seems to me rather strange that any one should be willing to enter without effort when everybody is plainly told the desires of the king and benefactor whom they expect to meet."
Builder Stott sat next, and hastened to the rescue of faith from a freethinker like Mr. Whilcher.
"Suppose we do right always," said he, "what does it amount to? Our righteousness is as filthy rags in His sight, according to the inspired Word, and there's very little to hope for from anything so worthless. Nobody knows, even when he's doing his best, whether he is right or wrong. Even Satan sometimes appears as an angel of light. I can remember many a time when I've done what seemed to be exactly the right thing, and I not only went without any credit for it, but it seemed to make everything else go wrong. I begin to think the Lord knows his own business best, and that we can't meddle with it without getting into trouble."
"Getting into trouble is an excuse for not trying to do right, is it?" asked Captain Maile.
"No, it isn't," replied Mr. Stott quite testily; "but a man can do a great deal of trying without succeeding, and without finding what is the proper thing to do. If we always knew just what was right, we should never get into trouble."
"I should like to ask the gentleman if Christ, the apostles, and prophets never got into trouble?" said Mr. Alleman.
"I suppose they did," replied Mr. Stott, in visible embarrassment; "but—but that was divinely ordained for the benefit of sinful man."
"I should like also to ask if the gentleman considers the servant above his master, and free from responsibility for his conduct?"
"No, of course not," said Mr. Stott, "but——"
Mr. Stott's expression remained unfinished for so long a time that Mr. Buffle took pity upon him, and remarked:
"It seems to me that unless hungering and thirsting after righteousness is a special virtue, it would not have been brought into this small group of qualities for which special blessings are promised. If it is of so much consequence, we ought, in gratitude to God, to be anxious to learn just what righteousness is. What we are to get for practicing it isn't of so much consequence. And as there aren't many of us who have had so much reason to study the meaning of the word as our friend Judge Cottaway has, I think the class will be willing to waive the regular order of answering for once, and hear from the Judge his opinion of this important word."
Every one looked at the Judge, and Deacon Bates remarked that he would assume that Mr. Buffle expressed the sentiments of every one.
"Righteousness," said the Judge, with his regulation court-room air, "has but one meaning. Philologically, legally, morally, and spiritually it means right doing. Legally, righteousness consists in obeying the law, and, by implication, refraining from offending the law. Morally, it is the very highest attainment possible to man; in its fulfillment every ordinary duty of man toward man is accomplished. Spiritually, either under the old dispensation or the new, its range of application is increased and its nature strengthened and elevated. By no correct line of reasoning, nor by any honest interpretation of the letter and spirit of the Scriptures, can the imperative obligation of man to do righteousness be set aside. Because the term is frequently used as a synonym for piety, there is no excuse for substituting religious belief for it, for true piety must include righteousness, and has no foundation without it. The religious sentiment may suddenly take possession of a man who has previously been unrighteous; but it is reputable and valuable only so far as it induces its subject to attain, not only to negative righteousness, the refraining from misconduct, which the law holds to be sufficient, but also to that positive, active virtue, enjoined by all the inspired teachers, which shall make a man actively virtuous, and from higher motives than that of merely escaping penalties and gaining rewards. Christ himself said of the moral law that every jot and tittle of it should be fulfilled."
"And it was fulfilled, on the Cross, when he cried, 'It is finished,'" interrupted Builder Stott.
"That's so," said young Mr. Waggett, now thoroughly aroused. "If it hadn't been, we never could have been saved."
"If the gentlemen really infer from Christ's last words that he meant to set aside the moral law," resumed Judge Cottaway, "the Church has been making a sad blunder during the twenty centuries which have followed the scene on Calvary. During all these years, she has been a teacher of morality; she has restrained, sometimes by persuasion, oftener by authority, sometimes by mistaken methods, sometimes in too lukewarm a manner, the baser passions of mankind, and encouraged the nobler qualities. In legal righteousness, the ancient Romans surpassed the world, and gave the models of all codes in operation to-day in the civilized world. And yet righteousness among the Romans, while wise, was often vindictive, and always wholly selfish. The smallest, most ignorant community in our neighborhood to-day has a higher, purer conception and practice of morality than the central city of the world had in the time of Christ, and though it is not under the special direction of the Church, its growth can be traced back to no other source."
"I've often heard," said Mr. Jodderel, "that so an Episcopalian admits the authority and divine origin of his Church, he can believe anything he pleases, and the address we have just listened to convinces me that the statement is true. Why, gentlemen, while nobody has a higher respect for Judge Cottaway's character and attainments than I have, it seems to me that he isn't much different from a Unitarian or any other freethinker that imagines he has some hold upon religion. Why, gentlemen, what's the good of Christ having lived and died at all, if we're still in bondage under the law? I don't mean that we're not to do right when we can—I want to do right as much as any man ever did—but if I've got to be bothered about all the little points that the Scribes and Pharisees fussed over, I don't see how much better off I am than they were."
"The gentleman is better off, as he expresses it," said the Judge, "because he has the benefit of the clearer light which Christ shed upon the law, and because through the life and death of Christ he has incentives to that love for the Source of all goodness which enables a man to overcome difficulties which, to the merely selfish moralist, are utterly insurmountable. It is thus that love becomes the fulfillment of the law, for it enables the weakest man to overcome his worst inclinations."
"What becomes, then, of the doctrine of justification by faith—the corner-stone of all Protestantism?" asked President Lottson.
"It remains as strong as ever," answered the Judge. "All are forgiven, our misdeeds committed in ignorance, when—mark the condition—when we are honest in intention and effort. 'The just'—the righteous, that is, those who do right to the best of their knowledge—'shall live by faith.' I would remind the gentleman that Christian theology, of every school, is based principally upon the principles laid down by that masterly jurist, the Apostle Paul, and that he makes of faith not the master but the subordinate of love. 'And now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.'"
"You can't go back on Paul," remarked Squire Woodhouse, "but it's often seemed to me that religious people treat Paul a great deal as the boys treat my orchard; they steal the apples they like the looks of best, but the best I've got are really the least handsome, and I generally have the full crop to myself."
Some one reminded the Leader that it was one o'clock, and the class arose.
"I'm going into Humbletop's class after this," said Builder Stott to President Lottson. "I was a little doubtful when this class was started whether it wouldn't sooner or later run things into the ground, and now it has done it. Cottaway is a dangerous man, for all his knowledge and squareness. There are men here, members of our Church, that'll be as likely as not to swallow all that he said, and then what'll their faith amount to? I say that if any such nonsense gets a hold in this church it ought to be made a matter of discipline."
"I think I shall remain with the class," said President Lottson. "There is a great deal of what is said here that I can't approve of, but that is all the more reason that somebody with a cool head and quick wits should be on hand to prevent the orthodox faith from going to ruin."
"I was very much interested in your remarks," said Broker Whilcher to the Judge. "Matthew Arnold has put forth some of the same views."
"I am glad to hear it," replied the Judge. "They will save him from drifting into vacuity, and they will convince his readers of his honesty of purpose. I wish only that I could believe that such views had as strong a hold upon the Church as they have upon the outside world. Verily, Christ never spoke a truer saying than that 'a man's foes shall be they of his own household.'"