Part 55 (1/2)
”But can I pray without faith? Did any man ever kneel before a log, and ask the log that he might believe in the log? Had he no faith in the log, could it be possible that he should be seen there kneeling before it?”
”Has the Bible then for you no intrinsic evidence of its truth?”
”Yes, most irrefragable evidence; evidence that no thinking man can possibly reject. Christ's teaching, the words that I have there as coming from his mouth are irresistible evidence of his fitness to teach. But you will permit me to use no such evidence. I must take it all, from the beginning of my career, before I can look into its intrinsic truth. And it must be all true to me: the sun standing still upon Gibeon no less than the divine wisdom which showed that Caesar's tribute should be paid to Caesar.”
”If every man and every child is to select, how shall we ever have a creed? and if no creed, how shall we have a church?”
”And if no church, how then parsons? Follow it on, and it comes to that. But, in truth, you require too much; and so you get--nothing.
Your flocks do not believe, do not pray, do not listen to you. They are not in earnest. In earnest! Heavens! if a man could believe all this, could be in earnest about it, how possibly could he care for other things? But no; you pride yourselves on faith; but you have no faith. There is no such thing left. In these days men do not know what faith is.”
In the evening, when the ladies had gone to their rooms, they were again together; and Bertram thought that he would speak of Caroline.
But he was again foiled. There had been some little bickering on the part of Mrs. Wilkinson. She had been querulous, and had not cared to hide it, though George and Adela were sitting there as guests. This had made her son unhappy, and he now spoke of it.
”I am sorry you should hear my mother speak in that way, George. I hope I am not harsh to her. I try to refrain from answering her. But unless I go back to my round jackets, and take my food from her hand like a child, I cannot please her.”
”Perhaps you are too careful to please her. I think you should let her know that, to a certain extent, you must be master in your own house.”
”Ah! I have given that up long since. She has an idea that the house is hers. I do not care to thwart her in that. Perhaps I should have done it at first; but it is too late now. To-night she was angry with me because I would not read a sermon.”
”And why then didn't you?”
”I have preached two to-day.” And the young clergyman yawned somewhat wearily. ”She used to read them herself. I did put a stop to that.”
”Why so? why not let her read them?”
”The girls used to go to sleep, always--and then the servants slept also, I don't think she has a good voice for sermons. But I am sure of this, George--she has never forgiven me.”
”And never will.”
”Sometimes, I almost think she would wish to take my place in the pulpit.”
”The wish is not at all unnatural, my dear fellow.”
”The truth is, that Lord Stapledean's message to her, and his conduct about the living, has quite upset her. I cannot blame Lord Stapledean. What he did was certainly kind. But I do blame myself. I never should have accepted the living on those terms--never, never.
I knew it when I did it, and I have never since ceased to repent it.”
And so saying he got up and walked quickly about the room. ”Would you believe it now; my mother takes upon herself to tell me in what way I should read the absolution; and feels herself injured because I do not comply?”
”I can tell you but of one remedy, Arthur; but I can tell you of one.”
”What remedy?”
”Take a wife to yourself; one who will not mind in what way you read the absolution to her.”
”A wife!” said Wilkinson, and he uttered a long sigh as he continued his walk.
”Yes, a wife; why not? People say that a country clergyman should never be without a wife; and as for myself, I firmly think that they are right.”