"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
pitifulconceit, 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