"It would seem that what you say ought to be true, and yet I have always half-feared God—that is, when I thought about him at all. I have been taught that he was to be served; that he was a jealous God; that he was angry with the sinful, and that the prayers of the wicked were an abomination. I am sure the Bible says the latter is true, or something like it."
"It is true. If you set your heart on some evil course, or are deliberating some dishonesty or meanness, be careful how you make long or short prayers to God while wilfully persisting in your sin. When a man is robbing and cheating, though in the most legal manner—when he is gratifying lust, hate, or appetite, and intends to continue doing so—the less praying he does the better. An avowed infidel is more acceptable. But the sweetest music that reaches heaven is the honest cry for help to forsake sin; and the more sinful the heart that thus cries out for deliverance the more welcome the appeal. Let me illustrate what I mean by your own case. If you should go out from this prison in the same spirit that you did once before, seeking to gain position and favor only for the purpose of gratifying your own pride—only that self might be advantaged, without any generous and disinterested regard for others, without any recognition of the sacred duties you owe to God, and content with a selfish, narrow, impure soul—if, with such a disposition, you should commence asking for God's help as a means to these petty, miserable ends, your prayers would, and with good reason, be an abomination to him. But if you had sunk to far lower depths than those in which you now find yourself, and should cry out for purity, for the sonship of a regenerated character, your voice would not only reach your divine Father's ear, but his heart, which would yearn toward you with a tender commiseration that I could not feel were you my only son."
The sincerity and earnestness of Mrs. Arnot's words were attested by her fast-gathering tears.
"This is all new to me. But if God is so kindly disposed toward us—so ready to help—why does he not reveal himself in this light more clearly? why are we so slow and long in finding him out? Until you came he seemed against me."
"We will not discuss this matter in general. Take your own experience again. Perhaps it has been your fault, not God's, that you misunderstood him. He tries to show how he feels toward us in many ways, chiefly by his written Word, by what he leads his people to do for us, and by his great mind acting directly on ours. Has not the Bible been within your reach? Have none of God's servants tried to advise and help you? I think you must have seen some such effort on my part when you were an inmate of my home. I am here this evening as God's messenger to you. All the hope I have of you is inspired by his disposition and power to help you. You may continue to stand aloof from him, declining his aid, just as you avoided your mother, and myself all these weeks when we were longing to help you; but if you sink, yours will be the fate of one who refuses to grasp the strong hand that is and ever has been seeking yours."
"Mrs. Arnot," said Haldane thoughtfully, "if all you say is true there is hope for me—there is hope for every one."
Mrs. Arnot was silent for a moment, and then said, with seeming abruptness:
"You have read of the ancient knights and their deeds, have you not?"
"Yes," was the wondering reply, "but the subject seems very remote."
"You are in a position to realize my very ideal of knightly endeavor."