So I view the case. Ethel must not be permitted to sacrifice herself
for her father."
Mrs. Birtwell sat for a long time without replying. Her eyes were
bent upon the floor.
"Hopeless!" she murmured, at length, in a low voice that betrayed
the pain she felt. "Surely that cannot be so. While there is life
there must be hope. God is not dead."
She uttered the last sentence with a strong rising inflection in her
tones.
"But the drunkard seems dead to all the saving influences that God
or man can bring to bear upon him," replied Mrs. Sandford.
"No, no, no! I will not believe it," said Mrs. Birtwell, speaking
now with great decision of manner. "God can and does save to the
uttermost all who come unto him."
"Yes, all who come unto him. But men like Mr. Ridley seem to have
lost the power of going to God."
"Then is it not our duty to help them to go? A man with a broken leg
cannot walk to the home where love and care await him, but his Good
Samaritan neighbor who finds him by the way can help him thither.
The traveler benumbed with cold lies helpless in the road, and will
perish if some merciful hand does not lift him up and bear him to a
place of safety. Even so these unhappy men who, as you say, seem to
have lost the power of returning to God, can be lifted up, I am
sure, and set down, as it were, in his very presence, there to feel
his saving, comforting and renewing power.
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