In less than a week a small parcel arrived by post addressed to Carol.
He knew before he opened it that it contained the little book which he
had so longed for, and which would be, if possible, even dearer to him,
henceforth, from the circumstances under which he regained it. He took
the little parcel to Mrs. Mandeville's room after breakfast, and opened
it there. As he drew the small volume from its cardboard case, he held
it up to show her. Then, opening it, he exclaimed in a tone of great
surprise, mingled with joy:
"Auntie, it is in dear Father's own handwriting!
'To Carol: from Father.'"
"How can it be?"
Then, as they examined the writing, they saw that Miss Desmond had cut
the words from her letter. So neatly had the foreign paper been gummed
in, it was not at first noticeable.
"Was it not lovely of Cousin Alicia to think of it, Auntie?"
"It was, indeed, dear. You will always realize now that it is your
father's gift."
"Yes, Auntie; my earthly father's and my heavenly Father's, too. I was
thinking this morning of that lovely verse in Isaiah: 'Before they call
I will answer: and while they are yet speaking I will hear.' And I knew
that Love had answered before I called. Before I knew my need, it was
met. I am glad the letter was delayed so long, because I have learned
so much. 'Every trial of our faith in God makes us stronger,' Mrs. Eddy
says. It did seem at first as if I should have to wait years for the
book, didn't it? I am glad I was so sure that Love could and would find
a way."
As the boy spoke, the Rector walked into the room. In a momentary
impulse Carol seized the little book which lay on the table, and held it
tightly. A crimson flush suffused his face. The next instant he looked
up at his uncle with fearless eyes, and held out the book to him,
saying, "Uncle Raymond, Cousin Alicia has sent me the little book Father
asked her to get for me, and see--isn't it beautiful?--'To Carol: from
Father,' is in Father's own handwriting."
The Rector took the book, examined the inscription, but made no remark.
"Father did not want me to belong to the nine. You would not like me to
either, would you, Uncle Raymond?"
"To the nine, boy?--What do you mean?"
"You remember, Uncle Raymond, when Jesus once healed ten lepers, nine
went thankless away. I have been healed, and I must acknowledge it at
all times, else I should be as one of them."
A frown gathered on the Rector's face.
"Never speak to me, Carol, of your healing in the same breath with the
healings of Jesus."
The boy looked sorely pained. For an instant he was silent. In that
instant he asked:
"Father-Mother God, lead me."
Then he said:
"May I ask you a question, Uncle Raymond?"
"Certainly, Carol; if it is something you want to know."
"It is something I often think about, Uncle. Are there any 'shepherds
in Israel' now? Can you tell me?"
"Why, of course, Carol; Israel typifies the Christian world, and God's
ministers are His shepherds."
"Yes, Uncle, that was what I thought. Is God not angry now with the
shepherds? I often read the 34th chapter of Ezekiel. God was very
angry with the shepherds of that time. He said, 'Woe be to the
shepherds, because they had not healed that which was sick, nor
strengthened that which was diseased, nor bound up that which was
broken, neither had they sought out that which was lost.'"
"There have been times in history, Carol, when God's ministers--His
shepherds--have been able to heal the sick, but for generations the
healing power has been withheld.
"Yes, Uncle, I understand that. For many centuries before Jesus came
the healing power had been lost. He brought it back, and taught his
disciples how to heal the sick. Then at the end of only three centuries
it was lost; and again after many centuries God has sent a messenger to
bring it back, but not everyone will listen to the message."
The boy spoke reflectively, as one thinking aloud, not addressing either
his uncle or his aunt.
"Raymond," said Mrs. Mandeville quickly (she noted the growing anger on
the Rector's face), "Carol has a way of thinking about things he reads
in the Bible. His thoughts have often helped me. He does not mean
to--to reproach you. Will you tell me, dear Raymond, have you ever read
this book which you condemn so strongly?"
"I have not read it, Emmeline. One does not need to read Mrs. Eddy's
books to condemn them. The press criticisms and extracts I have read
were quite enough for me. Since Carol's father wished him to have a
copy of the book, I cannot keep it from him. Otherwise I should, most
certainly. I can only pray that he may ultimately see the error of its
teaching."
"The fruit is so good," Mrs. Mandeville said softly. "I can only judge
by that, until I have studied the book myself, which I intend to do. I
think, Carol, darling, you must run back to the school-room now, or you
will be late for lessons. Leave your little book with me. You know it
will be quite safe, and come to me after school."
After the boy had left the room Mrs. Mandeville turned to the Rector.
"Now I want to ask you a question, if I may, Raymond, may I?"
"Why, of course, Emmeline, you know perfectly well I shall be happy to
answer any question you wish to put to me--if I can."
"It is this, Raymond: the Apostle bids us, 'Let this mind be in you
which was also in Christ Jesus.' How would you define the 'Mind'
simply, that I may grasp it?"
The Rector's memory went back to a Sunday morning some months before
when he had preached what he considered a very eloquent sermon from that
verse in Philippians. Had his sister forgotten it?
"Do you forget, Emmeline, that I preached from that text not so very
long ago? I took as the keynote of my sermon, humility--the humility of
Jesus. From the context that was undoubtedly what Saint Paul meant."
"Yes, Raymond, I remember the sermon perfectly; but I cannot feel that
to possess humility, even in a superlative degree, would be to possess,
as the Apostle commands, the 'Mind' of Christ. Carol was thinking out
this subject, in the way he has of thinking about verses in the Bible,
and the thought he gave me seems nearer to it. He could see only love.
The mind that was in Christ was love. Now, Raymond, if we, at this
moment, possessed hearts full of love we could not criticise or condemn
anyone or any sect. We could not hold up creeds or dogmas, and say, 'It
is necessary to believe this or that because it is a canon of the
Church.' We should just know that we and they had passed from death
unto life when we love the brethren, and all are brethren who look to
the Lord Jesus Christ as an elder brother."
"It seems to me, Emmeline, that even before reading the book you have
imbibed some of its mischievous statements. Remember, it teaches a
religion of negation. According to Christian Science we have no Heavenly
Father, no personal God; nothing but a divine Principle, an eternal
existence, to worship."
"Oh, Raymond, you do make a mistake. How can you infer that if you have
not studied the book?"
"My authority, Emmeline, for the statement, is Dr. Hanson. He wrote a
pamphlet on Christian Science, issued by the Religious Tract Society."
"It seems strange, Raymond, that a man of Dr. Hanson's eminence should
write, and the Religious Tract Society should publish, a statement so
misleading,--a statement which a boy of Carol's years could easily
confute. Carol prays to, and speaks of his Heavenly Father in a way
which, I grieve to say, my own children never do. Only a few minutes
before you entered the room, he said that this little book was a gift
not only from his earthly father but from his Heavenly Father, too. So
how can there be no Heavenly Father to a Christian Scientist? It is true
he speaks more frequently of Him as Divine Love; and it seems to me he
has a more comprehensive idea of God than I have myself, for the thought
has often presented itself to me, how can we, as the Scriptures say,
'live, move and have our being' in Him, if God is a person, according to
our idea of personality? The idea which Carol has given me of God as
infinite Love, filling the universe like light, makes that verse more
intelligible."
"A discussion such as this, Emmeline, cannot be productive of any good.
I will send you that little pamphlet I mentioned."
"Thank you, Raymond. I will read it after I have read _Science and
Health_."
The Rector then changed the conversation, and spoke of the object of his
visit to the Manor that morning.