An Ambitious Man

"You judge others by your own true heart," he said. "But I know the

world as it is. Yes, the members of my church would forgive Miss

Adams for her sin--and cut her dead. They would daily crucify her

and her innocent child by their cold scorn or utter ignoring of them.

They would not allow their daughters to associate with this blameless

girl, because of her mother's misstep.

"It is the same in and out of the churches. Twenty people will

repeat Christ's words to a repentant sinner, but nineteen of that

twenty interpolate a few words of their own, through tone, gesture or

manner, until 'Go and sin no more' sounds to the poor unfortunate

more like 'Go just as far away from me and mine as you can get--and

sin no more!' Only one in that score puts Christ's merciful and

tender meaning into the phrase and tries by sympathetic association

to make it possible for the sinner to sin no more. I felt you were

that one, and so I appealed to you in this matter about Marah Adams."

Joy's eyes were full of tears. "You must know more of human nature

than I do," she said, "but I hate terribly to think you are right in

this estimate of the people of your congregation. I will go and see

what I can do for this girl to-morrow. Poor child, poor mother, to

pass through a second Gethsemane for her sin. I think any girl or

boy whose home life is shadowed, is to be pitied. I have always had

such a happy home, and such dear parents, the world would seem

insupportable, I am sure, were I to face it without that background.

Dear papa's death was a great blow, and mother's ill health has been

a sorrow, but we have always been so happy and harmonious, and that,

I think, is worth more than a fortune to a child. Poor, poor Marah--

unable to respect her mother, what a terrible thing it all is!"

"Yes, it is a sad affair. I cannot help thinking it would have been

a pardonable lie if Miss Adams had denied the truth when the girl

confronted her with the story. It is the one situation in life where

a lie is excusable, I think. It would have saved this poor girl no

end of sorrow, and it could not have added much to the mother's

burden. I think lying must have originated with an erring woman."

Joy looked at her rector with startled eyes. "A lie is never

excusable," she said, "and I do not believe it ever saves sorrow.

But I see you do not mean what you say, you only feel very sorry for

the girl; and you surely do not forget that the lie originated with

Satan, who told a falsehood to Eve."