第72章
- Sylvie and Bruno
- Lewis Carroll
- 1156字
- 2016-03-02 16:33:20
"Why, that all Nature goes by fixed, regular laws--Science has proved that.So that asking God to do anything (except of course praying for spiritual blessings) is to expect a miracle: and we've no right to do that.I've not put it as well as he did: but that was the outcome of it, and it has confused me.Please tell me what you can say in answer to it.""I don't propose to discuss Captain Lindon's difficulties," Arthur gravely replied; "specially as he is not present.But, if it is your difficulty," (his voice unconsciously took a tenderer tone)"then I will speak."
"It is my difficulty," she said anxiously.
"Then I will begin by asking 'Why did you except spiritual blessings?'
Is not your mind a part of Nature?"
"Yes, but Free-Will comes in there--I can choose this or that; and God can influence my choice.""Then you are not a Fatalist?"
"Oh, no!" she earnestly exclaimed.
"Thank God!" Arthur said to himself, but in so low a whisper that only I heard it."You grant then that I can, by an act of free choice, move this cup," suiting the action to the word, "this way or that way?""Yes, I grant it."
"Well, let us see how far the result is produced by fixed laws.
The cup moves because certain mechanical forces are impressed on it by my hand.My hand moves because certain forces--electric, magnetic, or whatever 'nerve-force' may prove to be--are impressed on it by my brain.This nerve-force, stored in the brain, would probably be traceable, if Science were complete, to chemical forces supplied to the brain by the blood, and ultimately derived from the food I eat and the air I breathe.""But would not that be Fatalism? Where would Free-Will come in?""In choice of nerves," replied Arthur."The nerve-force in the brain may flow just as naturally down one nerve as down another.
We need something more than a fixed Law of Nature to settle which nerve shall carry it.That 'something' is Free-Will."Her eyes sparkled." "I see what you mean!" she exclaimed.
"Human Free-Will is an exception to the system of fixed Law.
Eric said something like that.And then I think he pointed out that God can only influence Nature by influencing Human Wills.
So that we might reasonably pray 'give us this day our daily bread,'
because many of the causes that produce bread are under Man's control.
But to pray for rain, or fine weather, would be as unreasonable as--"she checked herself, as if fearful of saying something irreverent.
In a hushed, low tone, that trembled with emotion, and with the solemnity of one in the presence of death, Arthur slowly replied "Shalt he that contendeth with the Almighty instruct him? Shall we 'the swarm that in the noontide beam were born,' feeling in ourselves the power to direct, this way or that, the forces of Nature--of Nature, of which we form so trivial a part--shall we, in our boundless arrogance, in our pitiful conceit, deny that power to the Ancient of Days?
Saying, to our Creator, 'Thus far and no further.Thou madest, but thou canst not rule!'?"Lady Muriel had covered her face in her hands, and did not look up.
She only murmured "Thanks, thanks!" again and again.
We rose to go.Arthur said, with evident effort, "One word more.
If you would know the power of Prayer--in anything and everything that Man can need try it.Ask, and it shall be given you.I--have tried it.
I know that God answers prayer!"
Our walk home was a silent one, till we had nearly reached the lodgings: then Arthur murmured--and it was almost an echo of my own thoughts--"What knowest thou, O wife, whether thou shalt save thy husband?"The subject was not touched on again.We sat on, talking, while hour after hour, of this our last night together, glided away unnoticed.
He had much to tell me about India, and the new life he was going to, and the work he hoped to do.And his great generous soul seemed so filled with noble ambition as to have no space left for any vain regret or selfish repining.
"Come, it is nearly morning! Arthur said at last, rising and leading the way upstairs.
"The sun will be rising in a few minutes: and, though I have basely defrauded you of your last chance of a night's rest here, I'm sure you'll forgive me: for I really couldn't bring myself to say 'Good night' sooner.And God knows whether you'll ever see me again, or hear of me!""Hear of you I am certain I shall!" I warmly responded, and quoted the concluding lines of that strange poem 'Waring' :--"Oh, never star Was lost here, but it rose afar Look East, where whole new thousands are!
In Vishnu-land what Avatar?"
"Aye, look Eastward!" Arthur eagerly replied, pausing at the stair-case window, which commanded a fine view of the sea and the eastward horizon."The West is the fitting tomb for all the sorrow and the sighing, all the errors and the follies of the Past: for all its withered Hopes and all its buried Loves! From the East comes new strength, new ambition, new Hope, new Life, new Love! Look Eastward!
Aye, look Eastward!"
His last words were still ringing in my ears as I entered my room, and undrew the window-curtains, just in time to see the sun burst in glory from his ocean-prison, and clothe the world in the light of a new day.
"So may it be for him, and me, and all of us!" I mused."All that is evil, and dead, and hopeless, fading with the Night that is past!
All that is good, and living, and hopeful, rising with the dawn of Day!
"Fading, with the Night, the chilly mists, and the noxious vapours, and the heavy shadows, and the wailing gusts, and the owl's melancholy hootings: rising, with the Day, the darting shafts of light, and the wholesome morning breeze, and the warmth of a dawning life, and the mad music of the lark! Look Eastward!
"Fading, with the Night, the clouds of ignorance, and the deadly blight of sin, and the silent tears of sorrow: and ever rising, higher, higher, with the Day, the radiant dawn of knowledge, and the sweet breath of purity, and the throb of a world's ecstasy! Look Eastward!
[Image...'Look eastward!']
"Fading, with the Night, the memory of a dead love, and the withered leaves of a blighted hope, and the sickly repinings and moody regrets thatnumb the best energies of the soul: and rising, broadening, rolling upward like a living flood, the manly resolve, and the dauntless will, and the heavenward gaze of faith--the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen!
"Look Eastward! Aye, look Eastward!"
End