The Master’s keynote before every threatening evil was, “Be not afraid.” Carmen’s life-motif was, “God is everywhere.” Josè strove to see that the Christ-principle was eternal, and as available to mankind now as when the great Exemplar propounded it to the dull ears of his followers. But men must learn how to use it. When they have done this, Christianity will be as scientific and demonstrable to mankind as is now the science of mathematics. A rule, though understood, is utterly ineffective if not applied. Yet, how to apply the Christ-principle? is the question convulsing a world to-day.
God, the infinite creative mind, is that principle. Jesus showed clearly––so clearly that the wonder is men could have missed the mark so completely––that the great principle becomes available only when men empty their minds of pride, selfishness, ignorance, and human will, and put in their place love, humility and truth. This step taken, there will flow into the human consciousness the qualities of God himself, giving powers that mortals believe utterly impossible to them. But hatred must go; self-love, too; carnal ambition must go; and fear––the cornerstone of every towering structure of mortal misery––must be utterly cast out by an understanding of the allness of the Mind that framed the spiritual universe.
Josè, looking at Carmen as she sat before him, tried to know that love was the salvation, the righteousness, right-thinking, by which alone the sons of men could be redeemed. The world would give such utterance the lie, he knew. To love an enemy is weakness! The sons of earth must be warriors, and valiantly fight! Alas! the tired old world has fought for ages untold, and gained––nothing. Did Jesus fight? Not as the world. He had a better way. He loved his enemies with a love that understood the allness of God, and the consequent nothingness of the human concept. Knowing the concept of man as mortal to be an illusion, Jesus then knew that he had no enemies.
The work-day closed, and Carmen was about to leave. A shadow fell across the open doorway. Josè looked up. A man, dressed in clerical garb, stood looking in, his eyes fixed upon Carmen. Josè’s heart stopped, and he sat as one stunned. The man was Padre Diego Polo.
“Ah, brother in Christ!” the newcomer cried, advancing with outstretched hands. “Well met, indeed! I ached to think I might not find you here! But––Caramba! can this be my 114 little Carmen, from whom I tore myself in tears four years ago and more? Diablo! but she has grown to be a charming señorita already.” He bent over and kissed the child loudly upon each cheek.
Josè with difficulty restrained himself from pouncing upon the man as he watched him pass his fat hands over the girl’s bare arms and feast his lecherous eyes upon her round figure and plump limbs. The child shrank under the withering touch. Freeing herself, she ran from the room, followed by a taunting laugh from Diego.
“Caramba!” he exclaimed, sinking into the chair vacated by the girl. “But I had the devil’s own trouble getting here! And I find everything quiet as a funeral in this sink of a town, just as if hell were not spewing fire down on the river! Dios! But give me a bit of rum, amigo. My spirits droop like the torn wing of a heron.”
Josè slowly found his voice. “I have no rum. I regret exceedingly, friend. But doubtless the Alcalde can supply you. Have you seen him?”
“Hombre! With what do you quench your thirst?” ejaculated the disappointed priest. “Lake water?” Then he added with a fatuous grin:
“No, I have not yet honored the Alcalde with a call. Anxious care drove me straight from the boat to you; for with you, a brother priest, I knew I would find hospitality and protection.”