第116章 The Protestant Confessional.(2)

"Oh,yes,you have,my child,"said the old man,cheerily."The One they called the 'Friend of sinners'is here to-day to welcome you,and is more ready to receive and advise you than I am.I'm not going to do anything for you but lead you to him who said,'Come unto me,all ye that are heavy laden;'and,'Whosoever cometh I will in nowise cast out.'""How much you make those words mean,as you speak them,"faltered Ida."You almost lead me to feel that not far away there is some one,good and tender-hearted,who will take me by the hand with reassuring kindness,as you have.""And you are right.Why,bless you,my child,religion doesn't do us much good until we learn to know our Lord as 'good and tender-hearted,'and so near,too,that we can speak to him,whenever we wish,as the disciples did in old times.So don't be one bit discouraged;see,I'll fasten your horse right here in the shade,and by and by I'll have him fed,for you must spend the day with us,and not go back until the cool of the evening.It hasn't seemed hospitable that you should have stood so long here under the trees;and Ididn't mean that you should,but things never turn out as we expect.""It is often well they don't,"thought Ida,as she looked around the quiet and quaintly beautiful spot,to which a kind Providence had brought her.It seemed as if her burden already were beginning to grow lighter.

"Now come in,my child,and tell me all your trouble.""Please,Mr.Eltinge,may I not go back with you into the garden?""Yes,why not?We can talk there just as well;"and he led her to a rustic seat in a shady walk,while from a tool-house near he brought out for himself a chair that had lost its back.

"I'll lean against this pear-tree,"he said."It's young and strong,and owes me a good turn.Now,my child,tell me what you think best,and then I'll tell you of One whose word and touch cures every trouble."But poor Ida had sudden and strong misgivings.As she saw the old gentleman surrounded by his flowers and fruits,as she glanced hesitatingly into his serene,quiet face,from which the fire and passion of youth had long since faded,she thought."So Adam might have looked had he never sinned but grown old in his beautiful garden.This aged man,who lives nearer heaven than earth,can't understand my wicked,passionate heart.My story will only shock and pain him,and it's a shame to pollute this place with such a story.""You spoke as if you were alone and friendless in the world,"said Mr.Eltinge,trying to help her make a beginning."Are you an orphan?""No,"said Ida,with rising color,and averting her face."My parents are both living.""And yet you cannot go to them?Poor child!That is the worst kind of orphanage.""Oh,Mr.Eltinge,this place seems like the garden of Eden,and Iam bringing into it a heart full of trouble and wickedness.""Well,my child,"replied the old gentleman,with a smile."I've brought here a heart full of trouble and wickedness many a time,so you need not fear hurting the garden.""But I fear I shall pain and shock you."

"I hope you will.I'm going to feel with and for you.What's the good of my sitting here like a post?""Well,"said Ida,desperately,"I promised to tell you everything,and I will.If there is any chance for me I'll then know it,for you will not deceive me.Somehow,what I am and what I have to say seemed in such sad contrast with you and your garden that I became afraid.You asked about my parents.My father is a very unhappy man.He seems to have lost hope and courage.I now begin to see that I have been chiefly to blame for this.I do nothing for his comfort.Indeed,I have been so occupied with myself and my own pleasure that I have given him little thought.He does not spend much of his time at home,and when I saw him he was always tired,sad,and moody.He seemed to possess nothing that could minister to my pride and pleasure save money,and I took that freely,with scarcely even thanks in return.

"I don't like to speak against my mother,but truth compels me to add that she acts much in the same way.I don't think she loves papa.Perhaps our treatment is the chief reason why life,seemingly,has become to him a burden.When he's not busy in he office he drinks,and drinks,and I fear it is only to forget his trouble.

Once or twice this summer he has looked like a man,and appeared capable of throwing off this destroying habit,and then by my wretched folly I made him do worse than ever,"and she burst into a remorseful passion of tears.

"That's right,my child,"said Mr.Eltinge,taking off his spectacles that he might wipe his sympathetic eyes;"you were very much to blame.Thank god,there are no Pharisees in this garden.

God bless you;go on."

"This that I've told you about my father ought to be my chief trouble,but it isn't,"faltered Ida."I fear you won't understand me very well now,and you certainly will never be able to understand how I could be tempted to do something at the very thought of which I now shudder.""No matter;my Master can understand it all if I can't.He's listening,too,remember.""It frightens me to think so,"said Ida,in an awed,trembling tone.

"That's because you don't know him.If you were severely wounded,would you be frightened to know that a good physician was right at hand to heal you?""But isn't God too infinite and far away to listen to listen to the story of my weakness and folly?I dare not think of him.My difficulty is just this--he IS God,and what am I?""One of his little children,my dear.Yes,he is infinite,but not far away.In the worst of my weakness and folly he listened patiently,and helped me out of my trouble.How are you going to get over this fact?He has listened to and helped multitudes of others in every kind of trouble and wrong.How are you going to get over these facts?"Ida slowly wiped her eyes.Her face grew very pale,and she looked at Mr.Eltinge steadily and earnestly,as if to gather from his expression and manner,as well as words,the precise effect of her confession.