Concerning Isabel Carnaby

by Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler

"He has indeed, my poor Martha; and it is when we think he has no longer the power to harm us that he is most to be dreaded. But tell me, what is the temptation that has been assailing you now?"

Martha's face was the picture of gloom as she replied: "I feel that covetousness and the love of money are creeping upon me in my old age; and we all know that the Lord hateth the covetous man, and that the love of money is the root of all evil."

Mr. Seaton's face was very tender as he answered: "I fancy that you are unduly distressing yourself. Surely I, who know you so well and with whom you have met in class all these years, should have perceived this fault in your character had it ever existed. Believe me, your conscience is over-sensitive, and now falsely accuses you."

But Martha shook her head. "The heart knoweth its own bitterness," she replied, "and I want you to help me to conquer the devil, and not explain him away. As my Aunt Matilda Jane said, when the doctor told her she had nasal catarrh: 'It is a common cold in the head, and I haven't sent for you to christen it but to cure it'. That is what Aunt Matilda Jane said, and she had right on her side, to my thinking."

"Well, Martha, if, as you say, the sin of covetousness is lying in wait for your soul, I can only pray for you, and entreat you to watch as well as pray that you enter not into this temptation."

"That is not enough. There is more than prayer wanted in my case. Not that prayer is not sufficient for some, and I should be the last to say a word against it; but I want something more myself," replied the penitent.

"Then tell me what that more is," demanded Martha's spiritual adviser, in some perplexity.

"I want you to remove the temptation far from me, so that I can no longer behold the accursed thing. In fact I want you to take all my savings, and spend them, and never let me hear of them again, they being but filthy lucre at best, and amounting to one hundred and eleven pounds, fifteen shillings and sixpence in all," added the excited Martha, thrusting her bank-book into her master's hand. "If I keep them, they may draw my soul into perdition, and make me as them that have their portion in this life; while if you'll only take and spend them, you'll save my soul alive, and be able to have a fire in your bedroom all the winter, which the mistress ought never to be without, her being so rheumatic, bless her dear heart!"

Then at last the minister understood; and he also understood that when any pilgrim's face is set as though to go to Jerusalem, it is no sign of true apostleship to try to turn that pilgrim back. So he took Martha's bank-book into his keeping, until such time as he saw fit to return it to her.

"Thank you, Martha," he said, and his eyes were full of tears. "I will do as you bid me, and shall be able to see that your dear mistress lacks nothing during the coming winter, owing to your generosity. And you in your turn will always remember that in this household, as in the early Church, we have all things in common; and that whatever is ours is also yours."