him, but that thought surely will hardly content him.
He may reflect that he at least prevents the evil
which would be produced by his apostasy; and very
frequently in life, when we abstain from doing wrong,
we have to be satisfied with a negative result and
with the simple absence (which nobody notices) of
some direct mischief, although the abstention may
cost more than positive well-doing. This too,
however, is but cold consolation when the cord is
brought and the grave is already dug.
It must be admitted that Reason cannot give any answer.
Socrates, when his reasoning comes to an end, often
permits himself to tell a story. “My dialectic,”
he seems to say, “is of no further use; but here
is a tale for you,” and as he goes on with it
we can see his satyr eyes gleam with an intensity
which shows that he did not consider he was inventing
a mere fable. That was the way in which he taught
theology. Perhaps we may find that something
less than logic and more than a dream may be of use
to us. We may figure to ourselves that this universe
of souls is the manifold expression of the One, and
that in this expression there is a purpose which gives
importance to all the means of which it avails itself.
Apparent failure may therefore be a success, for the
mind which has been developed into perfect virtue
falls back into the One, having served (by its achievements)
the end of its existence. The potential in the
One has become actual, has become real, and the One
is the richer thereby.
PATIENCE
What is most to be envied in really religious people
of the earlier type is their intellectual and moral
peace. They had obtained certain convictions,
a certain conception of the Universe, by which they
could live. Their horizon may have been encompassed
with darkness; experience sometimes contradicted their
faith, but they trusted—nay, they knew—
that the opposition was not real and that the truths
were not to be shaken. Their conduct was marked
by a corresponding unity. They determined once
for all that there were rules which had to be obeyed,
and when any particular case arose it was not judged
according to the caprice of the moment, but by statute.
We, on the other hand, can only doubt. So far
as those subjects are concerned on which we are most
anxious to be informed, we are sure of nothing.
What we have to do is to accept the facts and wait.
We must take care not to deny beauty and love because
we are forced also to admit ugliness and hatred.
Let us yield ourselves up utterly to the magnificence
and tenderness of the sunrise, though the East End
of London lies over the horizon. That very same
Power, and it is no other, which blasts a country
with the cholera or drives the best of us to madness
has put the smile in a child’s face and is the
parent of Love. It is curious, too, that the
curse seems in no way to qualify the blessing.
The sweetness and majesty of Nature are so exquisite,
Copyrights
Pages from a Journal with Other Papers from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
