Here, then, are the two groups; and the central scene of the story is
the transfer of the principal character from the one group to the other.
Janet Dempster, the wife of Robert Dempster, is, like her husband, very
religious, but, like him, she is none the better for her religion. But
matters at home hurry to a climax. Dempster drinks more and more, and,
drinking, goes from bad to worse. He treats his wife, first with
coldness, and then with cruelty. At length comes the dreadful and
dramatic scene that readers of the story will never erase from their
memories. In a fit of drunken savagery he burst into her room at
midnight. He drags her from her bed; pushes her down the stairs and
along the hall; and then, opening the front door, he hurls her by sheer
brute force out into the street. Here is George Eliot's picture: '_The
stony street; the bitter north-east wind and darkness; and in the midst
of them a tender woman thrust out from her husband's home in her thin
nightdress, the harsh wind cutting her naked feet and driving her long
hair away from her half-clad bosom, where the poor heart is crushed with
anguish and despair._' It is in these desperate straits that religion
presents itself to her view in an entirely fresh guise.
In her extremity, poor Janet thinks of little Mrs. Pettifer--a member of
that other group, the group that resembles the lilies under my window,
the group of kindly souls whose lives have been irradiated and
beautified by their faith. She taps at the cottage window; Mrs. Pettifer
hastens to the door; and, as soon as that frightened little body can
recover from the first shock of her astonishment, she draws Janet into
the room and then into the warm bed. Having composed and soothed her,
she slips out of bed again, lights the fire and makes a cup of tea. In
_this_ guise, religion presents itself to Janet!
But she needs more! A roof to shelter her, a fire to warm her and a
friend to caress and mother her--these are very welcome; but her heart
is crying out with a yet deeper hunger. She feels that she, a poor weak
woman, is standing against a world that is too hard and too strong and
too terrible for her. What can she do? Where can she go? Little Mrs.
Pettifer urges her to open her heart to Mr. Tryan, the minister; and to
Mr. Tryan she accordingly goes. And in Mr. Tryan she finds ready
helpfulness, warm sympathy, and a perfect understanding of her inmost
need. Her life, she feels, is but a tangled skein. To convince her that
he is no stranger to such conditions, Mr. Tryan tells her of his own
struggles and distresses. He has not stood aloof from the battle,
looking on; he has been in the thick of the fight--_and has been
wounded_. She feels for him, and, in feeling for him, becomes conscious
that the healing of her own hurt has already begun. In _this_ guise,
religion presents itself to Janet Dempster!
In the person of Mrs. Pettifer and in the person of Mr. Tryan, religion
became incarnate under the eyes of poor Janet. In the person of Mrs.
Pettifer and in the person of Mr. Tryan, '_the word became flesh_.'
But Janet still needs more! Mrs. Pettifer shelters and soothes her
_body_; Mr. Tryan comforts and strengthens her _mind_; but her _soul_,
her very _self_, what is she to do with _that_? She feels that she
cannot trust _herself_ with _herself_. Is there no still greater
incarnation of the faith?
Mrs. Pettifer is the _Incarnation Motherly_.
Mr. Tryan is the _Incarnation Ministerial_.
But, in her heart of hearts, there is still a deep and bitter cry. Mrs.
Pettifer can comfort; she cannot keep through all the days to come! Mr.
Tryan can counsel; he cannot guard from future sins and sorrows! To whom
can she commit herself? It is from Mr. Tryan's lips that the answer
comes. The words fall upon her broken spirit, as she herself tells us,
like rain upon the mown grass:
'_COME UNTO ME, ALL YE THAT LABOR AND ARE HEAVY-LADEN, AND I
WILL GIVE YOU REST!_'
And once more the solution is an incarnation! When Janet's storm-beaten
_body_ needed fire and food and shelter, religion became incarnate in
the person of Mrs. Pettifer. When Janet's distracted _mind_ needed
counsel and guidance, religion became incarnate in the person of Mr.
Tryan. But when Janet's sin-laden _soul_ cried out for a Saviour Who
could deliver her from the stains of the past, and keep her amidst the
perils of the future, religion became incarnate in the Person of the Son
of God!
_The Incarnation Motherly!_
_The Incarnation Ministerial!_
_The Incarnation Mediatorial!_
'_Come unto Me!_' the Saviour said. And Janet came! She was a changed
woman! '_A delicious hope_,' George Eliot tells us, '_the hope of
purification and inward peace, had entered into Janet's soul, and made
it spring-time there as well as in the outer world!_' '_She felt_,' we
are told again, '_like a little child whose hand is firmly grasped by
its father, as its frail limbs make their way over the rough ground: if
it should stumble, the father will not let it go._' She had opened her
heart to the living Lord as the living flowers open their petals to the
glad sunlight; and He had become the strength of her life and her
portion for ever. Temptation came, fierce and sudden and terrible; but
He was always there and always able to deliver.