She had all her life heard what her father had to say against Him, and what a good many well-meaning, but not very convincing, people had to say for Him.She had heard a few sermons and several lectures on various subjects connected with Christ's religion.She had read many books both for and against Him.She had read the New Testament.But could she quite honestly say that she had STUDIEDthe character of Christ? Had she not been predisposed to think her father in the right? He would not at all approve of that.Had she been a true Freethinker? Had she not taken a good deal to be truth because he said it? If so, she was not a bit more fair than the majority of Christians who never took the trouble to go into things for themselves, and study things from the point of view of an outsider.
In the silence and darkness of her little room, she began to suspect a good many unpleasant and hitherto unknown facts about herself.
"After all, I do believe that Mr.Osmond was right," she confessed at length."I am glad to get back my belief in him; but I've come to a horrid bit of lath and plaster in myself where I thought it was all good stone." She fell asleep and dreamed of the heathen Chinee, reading the translation of the translation of her father's words, and disbelieving altogether in "that invented demagogue, Luke Raeburn."The next day Charles Osmond, sitting at work in his study, and feeling more depressed and hopeless than he would have cared to own even to himself, was roused by the arrival of a little three-cornered note.It was as follow:
"Dear Mr.Osmond, You made me feel very angry yesterday, and sad, too, for of course it was a case of 'Et tu, Brute.' But last night I came to the unpleasant conclusion that you were quite right, and that I was quite wrong.To prove to you that I am no longer angry, I am going to ask you a great favor.Will you teach me Greek?
Your parable of the heathen Chinee has set me thinking.Yours very sincerely, Erica Raeburn"Charles Osmond felt the tears come to his eyes.The straightforward simplicity of the letter, the candid avowal of having been "quite wrong," an avowal not easy for one of Erica's character to make, touched him inexpressibly.Taking a Greek grammar from his book shelves, he set off at once for Guilford Terrace.
He found Erica looking very white and fragile, and with lines of suffering about her mouth; but, though physically weary, her mind seemed as vigorous as ever.She received him with her usual frankness, and with more animation in her look than he had seen for some weeks.
"I did think you perfectly horrid yesterday!" she exclaimed."And was miserable, besides, at the prospect of losing one of my heroes.
You can be very severe."
"The infliction of pain is only justified when the inflictor is certain, or as nearly certain as he can be, that the pain will be productive of good," said Charles Osmond.
"I suppose that is the way you account for the origin of evil,"said Erica, thoughtfully.
"Yes," replied Charles Osmond, pleased that she should have thought of the subject, "that to me seems the only possible explanation, otherwise God would be either not perfectly good or not omnipotent.
His all-wisdom enables Him to overrule that pain which He has willed to be the necessary outcome of infractions of His order.
Pain, you see, is made into a means of helping us to find out where that order has been broken, and so teaching us to obey it in the long run.""But if there is an all-powerful God, wouldn't it have been much better if He had made it impossible for us to go wrong?""It would have saved much trouble, undoubtedly; but do you think that which costs us least trouble is generally the most worth having? I know a noble fellow who has fought his way upward through sins and temptations you would like him, by the way, for he was once an atheist.He is, by virtue of all he has passed through, all he has overcome, one of the fines men I have ever known.""That is the friend, I suppose, whom your son mentioned to me.But I don't see your argument, for if there was an all-powerful God, He could have caused the man you speak of to be as noble and good without passing through pain and temptation.""But God does not work arbitrarily, but by laws of progression.
Nor does His omnipotence include the working of contradictions.He cannot both cause a thing to be and not to be at the same time.If it is a law that that which has grown by struggle and effort shall be most noble, God will not arbitrarily reverse that law or truth because the creation of sinless beings would involve less trouble.""It all seems to me so unreal!" exclaimed Erica."It seems like talking of thin air!""I expect it does," said Charles Osmond, trying to realize to himself her position.
There was a silence.
"How did this man of whom you speak come to desert our side?" asked Erica."I suppose, as you say he was one of the finest men you ever knew, he must, at least, have had a great intellect.How did he begin to think all these unlikely, unreal things true?""Donovan began by seeing the grandeur of the character of Christ.
He followed his example for many years, calling himself all the time an atheist; at last he realized that in Christ we see the Father.""I am sorry we lost him if he is such a nice man," was Erica's sole comment.Then, turning her beautiful eyes on Charles Osmond, she said, "I hope my note did not convey to you more than I intended.
