more inclined she grew to think that it had been a kind of snare on the
part of God, to trap her afresh into sin, and thus to prolong her
dependence on Him after her crying need was past. But, if this were
true, if He had done this, then He must LIKE people to remain miserable
sinners, so that He might have them always crawling to His feet. And
from this view of the case her ingenuous young mind shrank appalled.
She could not go on loving and worshipping a God who was capable of
double dealing; who could behave in such a "mean, Jewy fashion". Nor
would she ever forget His having forced her to endure the moments of
torture she had come through that day.

Lying on her bed, she grappled with these thoughts. A feeling of deep
resentment was their abiding result. Whatever His aim, it had been past
expression pitiless of Him, Him who had at His command thousands of
pleasanter ways in which to help her, thus to drive a poor unhappy girl
to extremities: one, too, whose petition had not been prompted by
selfish ends alone. What she had implored of Him touched Mother even
more nearly than herself: her part prayer to Him had been to save
Mother--whose happiness depended on things like examinations--from a
bitter disappointment. That much at least He had done--she would give
Him His due--but at the expense of her entire self-respect. Oh, He must
have a cold, calculating heart ... could one only see right down into
it. The tale of His clemency and compassion, which the Bible told, was
not to be interpreted literally: when one came to think of it, had He
ever--outside the Bible--been known to stoop from His judgment-seat,
and lovingly and kindly intervene? It was her own absurd mistake: she
had taken the promises made through His Son, for gospel truth; had
thought He really meant what He said, about rewarding those who were
faithful to Him. Her companions--the companions on whom, from the
heights of her piety, she had looked pityingly down--were wiser than
she. They did not abase themselves before Him, and vow a lifelong
devotion; but neither did they make any but the most approved demands
on Him. They satisfied their consciences by paying Him lip-homage, by
confessing their sins, and by asking for a vague, far-distant mercy, to
which they attached no great importance. Hence, they never came into
fierce personal conflict with Him. Nor would she, ever again; from this
time forward, she would rival the rest in lukewarmness.--But, befor