He had brought over to Oakdene a discourse on the eternity of punishment.Perhaps he honestly believed that people could be frightened to heaven, at any rate he preached a most ghastly sermon, and, what was worse, preached it with vindictive energy.
The poor, mangled, much-distorted text about the tree lying as it falls was brought to the fore once again, and, instead of bearing reference to universal charity and almsgiving as it was intended to do, was ruthlessly torn from its context and turned into a parable about the state of the soul at death.The words "damned" and "damnation," with all their falsely theologized significance, rang through the little church and made people shudder, though all the time the speaker knew well enough that there were no such words in the New Testament.Had he been there himself to see he could not have described his material hell more graphically.Presently, leaning right over the pulpit, his eyes fixed on the manor pew just beneath him, he asked in thundering tones "My brethren, have you ever realized what the word LOST means?" Then came a long catalogue of those who in Mr.Cuthbert's opinion would undoubtedly be "lost," in which of course all Erica's friends and relatives were unhesitatingly placed.
Now to hear what we sincerely believe to be error crammed down the throats of a congregation is at all times a great trial; but, when our nearest and dearest are remorselessly thrust down to the nethermost hell, impatience is apt to turn to wrath.Erica thought of her gentle, loving, unselfish mother, and though nothing could alter her conviction that long ere now she had learned the truths hidden from her in life, yet she could not listen to Mr.Cuthbert's horrible words without indignant emotion.A movement from Donovan recalled her.Little Dorothy was on his knees fast asleep; he quietly reached out his hand, took up Erica's prayer book which was nearest to him, and wrote a few words on the fly leaf, handling the book to her.She read them."Definition of LOST: not found yet."Then the anger and grief and pain died away, and, though the preacher still thundered overhead, God's truth stole into Erica's heart once more by means of one of his earliest consecrated preachers a little child.Once more Dolly and her father were to her a parable; and presently, glancing away through the sunny south window, her eye fell upon a small marble tablet just below it that she had not before noticed, and this furnished her with thoughts which outlasted the sermon.
At the top was a medallion, the profile of the same fine, soldierly looking man whose portrait hung in Donovan's study, and which was so wonderfully like both himself and little Ralph.Beneath was the following inscription:
In loving Memory of RALPH FARRANT, Who died at Porthkerran, Cornwall, May 3, 18--, Aged 45Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning."The date was sixteen years back, but the tablet was comparatively new, and could not have been up more than six years at the outside.
Erica was able partly to understand why Donovan had chosen for it that particular text, and nothing could more effectually have counteracted Mr.Cuthbert's sermon than the thoughts which it awoke in her.
Nevertheless, she did not quite get over the ruffled feeling, which was now in a great measure physical, and it was with a sense of relief that she found herself again in the open air, in the warmth, and sunshine, and gladness of the September day.Donovan did not say a word.They passed through the little church yard, and walked slowly up the winding lane; the children, who had stopped to gather a fine cluster of blackberries, were close behind them.In the silence, every word of their talk could be distinctly heard.
"I don't like God!" exclaimed Ralph, abruptly.
"Oh, you naughty!" exclaimed Dolly, much shocked.
"No, it isn't naughty.I don't think He's good.Why, do you think father would let us be shut up in a horrid place for always and always? Course he wouldn't.I 'spects if we'd got to go, he'd come, too."Donovan and Erica looked at each other.Donovan turned round, and held out his hand, at which both children rushed.
"Ralph," he said, "if any one told you that I might some day leave off loving you, leave off being your father what would you do?""I'd knock them down!" said Ralph, clinching his small fist.
Donovan laughed a little, but did not then attempt to prove the questionable wisdom of such a proceeding.
"Why would you feel inclined to knock them down?" he asked.
"Because it would be a wicked lie!" cried Ralph."Because I know you never could, father.""You are quite right.Of course I never could.You would never believe any one who told you that I could, because you would know it was impossible.But just now you believed what some one said about God, though you wouldn't have believed it of me.Never believe anything which contradicts 'Our Father.' It will be our father punishing us now and hereafter, and you may be sure that He will do the best possible for all His children.You are quite sure that I should only punish you to do you good, and how much more sure may you be that God, who loves you so much more, will do the same, and will never give you up."Ralph looked hard at his bunch of blackberries, and was silent.
Many thoughts were working in his childish brain.Presently he said, meditatively:
"He did shout it out so loud and horrid! I s'pose he had forgotten about 'Our Father.' But, you see, Dolly, it was all a mistake.
Come along, let's race down the drive."
Off they ran.Erica fancied that Donovan watched them rather sadly.
