Part 28 (1/2)

He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies; And he that _will_ be cheated to the last, Delusions strong as h.e.l.l shall bind him fast.”

_Cowper_.

”I did conceive, Mistress Blanche,” said Mr Tremayne one morning, as the party rose from the breakfast-table, ”that you would with a good will see the picture of Clare's grandsire, the which hangeth in my study-chamber?”

”Oh ay, an' it like you,” responded Blanche eagerly.

Clare had seen the portrait, but not Blanche. Mr Tremayne led the way to his study, allowed her to examine the likeness at her leisure, and answered all her questions about John Avery. Entrapped Blanche did not realise that he was catching her with the same sort of guile which Saint Paul used towards the Corinthians. [2 Corinthians 12, 16] Mrs Tremayne came in, and sat down quietly with her work, before the inspection was over. When her curiosity was at length satisfied, Blanche thanked Mr Tremayne, and would have left the room with a courtesy: but such was by no means the intention of her pastor.

”I have heard, say, Mistress Blanche,” said he quietly, ”that your mind hath been somewhat unsettled touching the difference, or the lack of difference, betwixt us and the Papists. If so be, pray you sit down, and give us leave to talk the same over.”

Blanche felt caught at last. It must be Sir Thomas, of course, who had told the Rector, for there was no one else who could have done it. And it may be added, though Blanche did not know it, that her father had specially begged Mr Tremayne to examine into the matter, and to set Blanche right on any points whereon she might have gone wrong.

Thus brought to a stand and forced to action, it was Blanche's nature to behave after the manner of a mule in the same predicament, and to affect stronger contrary convictions than she really felt. It was true, she said rather bluntly: she did think there was very little, if any, difference between many doctrines held by the rival Churches.

”There is all the difference that is betwixt Heaven and earth,” answered Mr Tremayne. ”Nay, I had well-nigh said, betwixt Heaven and h.e.l.l: for I do believe the Devil to have been the perverter of truth with those corruptions that are in Papistry. But I pray you, of your gentleness, to tell me of one matter wherein, as you account, no difference lieth?”

With what power of intellect she had--which was not much--Blanche mentally ran over the list, and selected the item on which she thought Mr Tremayne would find least to say.

”It seemeth me you be too rude [harsh, severe] to charge the Papists with idolatry,” she said. ”They be no more idolaters than we.”

”No be they? How so, I pray you?”

”Why, the images in their churches be but for the teaching of such as cannot read, nor do they any wors.h.i.+p unto the image, but only unto him that is signified thereby. Moreover, they pray not unto the saints, as you would have it; they do but ask the saints' prayers for them. Surely I may ask my father to pray for me, and you would not say that I prayed unto him!”

”I pray you, pull bridle there, Mistress Blanche,” said Mr Tremayne, smiling; ”for you have raised already four weighty points, the which may not be expounded in a moment. I take them, an' it like you, not justly in your order, but rather in the order wherein they do affect each other. And first, under your good pleasure,--what is prayer?”

Blanche was about to reply at once, when it struck her that the question involved more than she supposed. She would have answered,--”Why, saying my prayers:” but the idea came to her, _Was_ that prayer? And she felt instinctively that, necessarily, it was not. She thought a moment, and then answered slowly;--

”I would say that it is to ask somewhat with full desire to obtain the same.”

”Is that all?” replied Mr Tremayne.

Blanche thought so.

”Methinks there is more therein than so. For it implieth, beyond this, full belief that he whom you shall ask,--firstly, can hear you; secondly, is able to grant you; thirdly, is willing to grant you.”

”Surely the saints be willing to pray for us!”

”How know you they can hear us?”

Blanche thought, and thought, and could find no reason for supposing it.

”Again, how know you they can grant us?”

”But they pray!”

”They praise, and they hold communion: I know not whether they offer pet.i.tions or no.”

Blanche sat meditating.

”You see, therefore, there is no certainty on the first and most weighty of all these points. We know not that any saint can hear us. But pa.s.s that--grant, for our talk's sake, that they have knowledge of what pa.s.seth on earth, and can hear when we do speak to them. How then?