"Christianity is not a theory or a speculation, but a _life_; not a
philosophy of life, but a life and a living process."--_Coleridge._
Kate Turner walked slowly along the street at the foot of Terrace Hill.
She looked up at the beautiful home where she had spent the previous
evening, and as she saw the velvet lawn and terraced walks bordered with
bright flowers, she half pitied herself because she was only a plodding
music teacher. She was not envious, but she had such longing aspirations
to be somebody in the world; she wanted so many things, needed so much
to complete her education, and starved herself in so many ways for the
sake of completing it, that sometimes she grew discontented with her
lot. Fortunately her moods did not last long, however, and especially
when she went home to her artist friend, Grace, with whom she shared
rooms. They were both making their own way in the world, and were a
great help to each other, as well as a great comfort.
Kate was wondering what Mrs. Hayden did every day with her leisure. She
should think she would be tired always going to parties and lunches and
operas, or receiving calls. "But then, I am thankful to know her," she
concluded, casting a last glance at the stately mansion before turning
the corner. "After all, life might be worse for me, and I can be a happy
nobody if not a famous somebody," she said to herself, as she ran
upstairs, after stopping at the baker's for a loaf of bread and a pot of
jam.
"Well, Gracious, what noble message have you given to the world through
your work to-day?" she cried, a moment later, gaily peering into the
studio through the _portières_ that separated their parlor from the work
room.
"Is that you, Kate? Well, I've been trying the whole afternoon to make
this Hebe look like a modern Hypatia, but----"
"In other words," interrupted Kate, "you would change innocence into
intellect. Now, look here, Grace, just leave this dainty girl alone. She
would never do to serve the gods if you gave her the aspect and bearing
of a goddess. Let her alone, or the world would not recognize her as a
representative woman," laughed Kate, inspecting the picture with
critical eyes.
"Kate, stop laughing, and tell me truly if you think it would not do to
give her a little more independence."
"You know it's the worst thing in the world to give a woman even an
inkling that such a thing exists," said the mischievous Kate, with a
total abandonment to consequences as she gave the artist an impetuous
hug.
"Well, let us have tea, and we'll discuss the subject later," said
Grace, somewhat mollified.
"I am afraid, Gracious, you are something in the same mood I was when I
started home to-night, but I concluded to let 'dull care' take care of
itself, and be merry while the sun shines, which means as long as we
have enough to pay our rent, and the prospect of a little more next
month," continued Kate as she brought a tiny oil stove from the depths
of a closet and proceeded to "put the kettle on."
"I have been so full of thoughts of the nineteenth century that I found
it hard to go back to the Pagan ages, but here this picture is ordered,
and I must finish it by next week, so I guess this one will have to go
without my message," said Grace, a little gloomily, for above all things
she loved to put her own individuality into her pictures, which she
generally did with rare success.
"You mustn't have just one ideal of woman, or you'll lose the art of
painting the sweetest phases of womanhood," replied the busy housemaid
from the sepulchral closet.
"Oh! if I have such excellent models as you make in that checked apron
and dusting cap, I can do nobly."
Grace laughed good humoredly as she cleaned her palette and set Hebe in
one corner.
"Now, my dear, isn't there something I can do to help arrange the
feast?" as she went into the little back room they used for a kitchen.
"Yes, wash the grapes and open the jam while I cut the bread and pour
the tea."
A few minutes later they were _tête-à-tête_ at the little table, and as
they sat down Grace said with a comical smile: "Quite a difference
between our banquet of last night and this, isn't there?"
"I should remark there is, but after all, Grace, I believe I am quite
content. As I was passing along at the foot of the hill this evening a
momentary dissatisfaction came over me that I couldn't have a few
advantages _like_ Mrs. Hayden's, not hers of course, but similar ones,"
with a smile at the distinction, "and then I wondered how she spends all
her leisure, for of course she has the whole twenty-four hours at her
disposal, and--well, to be brief, I would not want to live without some
object in life, and so I thought it best the way it is now."
"Very wise conclusion, Kate, that's just what I always say, and really
who is there with whom we would care to exchange places? There are so
many kinds of people and so many things for humanity to contend against,
I don't know that I should want to change burdens with anyone."
"Mrs. Dyke, for instance, would you not think yourself fortunate to be
like her?" said Kate, with a merry twinkle in her eyes.
"Oh, deliver me from that comparison! Why, she carries everybody's sins
on her shoulders; I even heard she had taken Robert Elsmere to throw at
the world!" laughed Grace.
"But not his wife; she didn't read about her. Wasn't it too funny to
hear her go on last night, and the way she looked at the minister to
emphasize her position?"
"Yes, but how many there are like her--read just enough to know there
are such and such characters and such and such incidents. Now of course
she has heard the minister define Robert's crime, as he would call it I
suppose, so she thinks she can use the whole argument," replied Grace, a
little scornfully.
"Mrs. Hayden interposed just at the right time. I was glad she did, too.
It seems she has considered Catherine's position and could speak a good
word for her," said Kate, sipping her tea, thoughtfully.
"Well, if she calls her an ideal of wifely love, I don't admire the
reality," exclaimed Grace, with more vigor than elegance, as she put
down her tea-cup.
"I got positively impatient," she continued, "when I read about her
cruelty to Robert, judging him in that inquisitor's fashion. Poor
fellow! _I_ think he died of a broken heart."
"But, Grace, she did what she thought was her religious duty, and it
must have been hard for her to withdraw herself so completely when she
loved him so much," said the more charitable Kate.
"Do you call that love which would let him go tramping off alone, with
not even a word of sympathy, and so afraid that her religion would be
contaminated she could not even hear him preach? I don't pretend to be
religious, but any religion stands on a poor foundation if it can be
swept away by anybody's opinions."
"It wasn't that; it was because she thought it was wrong to listen to
heresy, as she supposed it was, and----"
"How did she know? Had she taken pains to find out? Did she study it
carefully and have a reason for her cruel judgment?" interrupted the
wrathful Grace.
"Well, she was conscientious and was doing what she had been taught was
right."
"Kate, if there is anything that makes me out of patience with people
it is when they hang all their actions on what somebody else says, and
that excuse is simply barbarous in this case."
"Remember that in religion one must follow what he thinks to be right,
and Catherine Elsmere represents a large class of people; in fact, the
majority of religious people."
Kate was naturally inclined to be charitable, and this, added to her
early training in a religious home, as well as her position as a church
member, made her understand Catherine's position from a conscientious
standpoint much more than Grace. She could readily appreciate the fixed
law of conscience Catherine had made for herself by pledging her sacred
word of honor to her father, whom she revered as an infallible
authority, as most people revere the legends and doctrines of the
church.
"I admit that it is right to follow the dictates of one's own
conscience, but I believe in having an enlightened conscience, and a
reason for opinions. For that matter, so did Robert have a conscience,
and while I don't understand his religion, I respect his honesty and
effort. There are a great many beautiful things in what he says, but
there must be a mistake somewhere in a religion that can not save to the
uttermost, and his didn't. I haven't found one that does," said Grace,
with some irony.
"Nevertheless, Grace, there is nothing to warrant your assertion in the
Bible. The Christian religion is full of the most blessed promises of
salvation in _everything_," said Kate, gently, but flushing a little as
she spoke, for she disliked talking religion with Grace, who was so
skeptical, although if compelled to do so, it was a matter of duty to
stand up for her Christian principles.
"Yes, I admit it gives many wonderful promises, but where are they
realized? It seems to me the very fact that the church has not proven
them, made such people as Robert Elsmere doubt them even as possible of
fulfillment."
"Why Grace, surely _you_ don't disbelieve in the power of God to fulfill
the promises?" exclaimed Kate, deeply pained.
"I am talking from Robert Elsmere's standpoint," answered Grace,
evasively.
"My sympathy is with Catherine, for to her, religion was a living answer
to her deepest needs and feelings, and to doubt that answer was nothing
less than sacrilege," said Kate, with a bright red spot on either cheek.
"Well," answered Grace, throwing down her napkin, "I want to see a
religion that will stand infinite investigation without falling into
ruins, and Robert reasoned himself away from the old beliefs and dogmas
because he investigated them. He used his God-given reason, and I think
that is to be used as well as the blind, unquestioning faith of
Catherine."
"There are times when we need faith and times when we need reason, but
faith applies to religion and reason to the things of the world,"
replied Kate, recalling what she had heard a few Sundays before.
"Well, to me the ideal of religion is a marriage, a union of faith and
reason--but this is idle talk. What does anybody know of such perfection
as I demand anyway?"
Grace impatiently pushed her chair away from the table, and went to look
at her picture again, in a decidedly gloomy mood.