Next day, Sunday, he came down in a restless and worried state, which was only in part soothed by her companionship. "I shall have you all to myself to-day," she said repeatedly, and her delight awoke a response in him, even while those gnawing doubts went on. One shadow alone rested on Lettice, and that was the thought of Dr. Bryant. She could put aside bitter recollections of Theodosia, but not loving and pained recollections of him. Still, her prevailing sensation at present was of freedom and relief.
The brother and sister went to Church in the morning, and for a long walk in the afternoon. Felix once more found his inward battle lessening as her sweetness won him back to the old love of their childish days: and a keen consciousness was dawning that better things might exist in life than a hasty acquisition of wealth. In the evening, Lettice wiled him to Church again. She had been always used to go twice, and in London she could not, unless he would act escort.
He had not listened with any particular attention to the morning sermon; but this evening Mr. Kelly's text took hold upon his mind, and refused to be forgotten.
"For no man liveth to himself."
Some part at least of the sermon following was more or less an outcome of a certain conversation once held between Mr. Kelly and Prue, with reference to Felix himself. Of this Felix knew nothing; but he could not help listening. He had undoubtedly lived to himself of late, so far as such living is possible, and he knew it—nay, he had rather prided himself upon the fact. He had not lived for other men. He had not lived unto God. His one aim had been wealth; not wealth to be used for the good of fellow-men, but wealth purely and exclusively for his own advantage.
Such thoughts floated in a back region of his mind, while Mr. Kelly drew sharp distinctions between the life that is lived to God, and the life that is lived to self.
"In one sense," he explained, "no mean ever lives, or can live, utterly to himself. Our lives are so intertwined, one with another, that the lives of others must affect us, and our lives must affect them, at every point of contact. We must influence, and be influenced. We must help to make others more or less good, more or less happy. No choice here is left to us. From the very constitution of our nature and of human society, no man ever can live or die absolutely to himself alone. The manner of his living, and the manner of his dying, must tell upon the living and the dying of his fellow-men.
"Yet within limits we have choice—not only a choice whether our influence shall be for good or for evil; but also a choice whether our lives shall be unto God—unto our fellow-men—or exclusively unto self. The wide margin of aims, of motives, of intentions, is left to our decision. You must live; you must act; your living and acting must affect your neighbours and friends; all this, whether you will or no. But the spring of action, the motive-power of life, shall be as you choose. And remember, whatever you do or leave undone, God looks straight to the motive.
"In most men's lives we find one or two or more dominant motives, occasionally one only, so strong as to become a 'ruling passion.' Those who are so governed are commonly the men who get on, who do well, who succeed. That is to say, they succeed in their sins; they get on and do well in the thing which they have set before them to accomplish. The aim may be high or low: the thing may be good or bad; but at least they seldom fail in their object, because the full strength of body and mind is bent to the obtaining of it. When such men are won to the side of God, in the great battle against evil, they are men worth having. From them you will not see lazy or half-hearted service.
"If the leading aim, the mastering passion, in a man's life be Self, then the object for which he toils is poor and low; he gives money for that which is not bread, and his hunger and thirst cannot be satisfied. If the ruling aim and passion of his heart be to live unto God and unto men, then his object is noble, and unlimited possibilities lie before him.
"The love of self takes many different developments. It may desire money for self, success for self, comfort and ease for self, admiration for self. Or it may desire these things for the one being best loved on earth; and self may actually be worshipped and toiled for in that being, so that here we find another form of selfishness, though by no means so ignoble a form as the first.
"Now I do not for a moment say that these desires are intrinsically wrong. It is natural that we should like a measure of ease and comfort, that we should wish for wealth and success—natural and not evil. The evil lies in overbalancing. That which is right in moderation becomes wrong in excess. That which is harmless, even laudable, as a well-controlled aim, subject to high principle, becomes contemptible as the one sole object of a man's existence—becomes perilous as his mastering passion.
"Love God first; and other love will take its due place. Live for God first; and all your life will be in fair proportion. Work for God first; and you will work for fellow-men; Self sinking into a reasonable background. But put self first; live for self; toil for self; and the whole of your life will be ill-balanced, crooked, out of order and proportion.
"You need not for a moment suppose that this high aim is incompatible with a useful and successful career on earth. Rather, it should help you towards success, because it should ensure a single-hearted devotion to labour. Surely a man ought to work better for God and for others than for himself alone. No more inspiring, no more grand and uplifting motive can be found than this—'To do the Will of God!'
"Was ever any life loftier than the Life of Christ? He said, 'I come to do Thy Will, O God!' We too, in our little measure, may say and do the same. If that be the ruling passion of your heart, 'To do His Will,' then no success will injure you, and no adversities will shake your firm foundation. Whatever your line of life may be, it makes no difference. Christ is there; and you have to do His will. He may give you success; or He may not. But one thing is certain. You will not do your work less well because you do it 'unto Him.' You will not live a less beautiful life because you live it 'unto Him.'
"Success is more commonly His Will for the diligent; and He bids us to be diligent. He would not have us feeble and indolent servants. He would have us strive our utmost. And suppose He gives to us success and wealth—what then? What of the money so gained? My friends, remember, 'No man liveth to himself!' And wait upon your God for orders. The silver and gold are His, not yours. Whether you have much or little, you hold it all in trust for Him; and you have to do His Will."
Felix walked out of Church with those words sounding in his ears—
"You hold it all in trust for Him, and you have to do His Will."
He said not a word to Lettice. Like Cecilia, he was reserved. They talked of other things at supper; discussed Lettice's troubles; and planned little changes in their mode of life together. Lettice was in gay spirits, joyous as a kitten; and Felix was thoughtful, but not sad.