So with this particular injunction, every circumstance in our lives is a challenge to it, and in presence of all alike it admits of one attitude only: 'Beareth all things, endureth all things.' I hope it will be long before that 'all' sticks in your gizzard, Evie,--before you come face to face with things which nature cannot bear, and yet which must be borne."He stopped, his voice quivering; and then after a pause went on again more calmly, "And throughout it is the same.Moral precepts everywhere, which will admit of no compromise, no limitation, and yet which are at war with our strongest passions.If one could only interpose some 'unless,' some 'except,' even an 'until,' which should be short of the grave.But we cannot.The law is infinite, universal, eternal; there is no escape, no repose.Resist, strive, endure, that is the recurring cry; that is existence.""And peace," I exclaimed, appealingly."Where is there room for peace, if that be true?"He sighed for answer, and then in a changed and lower tone added, "However thickly the clouds mass, however vainly we search for a coming glimmer in their midst, we never doubt that the sky IS still beyond--beyond and around us, infinite and infinitely restful."He raised his eyes as he spoke, and mine followed his.We had entered the wooded glen.Through the scanty autumn foliage we could see the stars shining faintly in the dim moonlight, and beyond them the deep illimitable blue.A dark world it looked, distant and mysterious, and my young spirit rebelled at the consolation offered me.
"Peace seems a long way off," I whispered.
"It is for me," he answered, gently; "not necessarily for you.""Oh, but I am worse and weaker than you are.If life is to be all warfare, I must be beaten.I cannot always be fighting.""Cannot you? Evie, what I have been saying is true of every moral law worth having, of every ideal of life worth striving after, that men have yet conceived.But it is only half the truth of Christianity.You know that.We must strive, for the promise is to him that overcometh; but though our aim be even higher than is that of others, we cannot in the end fail to reach it.The victory of the Cross is ours.You know that? You believe that?""Yes" I answered, softly, too surprised to say more.In speaking of religion he, as a rule, showed to the full the reserve which is characteristic of his class and country, and this sudden outburst was in itself astonishing; but the eager anxiety with which he emphasized the last words of appeal impressed and bewildered me still further.We walked on for some minutes in silence.Then suddenly Alan stopped, and turning, took my hand in his.In what direction his mind had been working in the interval I could not divine; but the moment he began to speak I felt that he was now for the first time giving utterance to what had been really at the bottom of his thoughts the whole evening.Even in that dim light Icould see the anxious look upon his face, and his voice shook with restrained emotion.
"Evie," he said, "have you ever thought of the world in which our spirits dwell, as our bodies do in this one of matter and sense, and of how it may be peopled? I know," he went on hurriedly, "that it is the fashion nowadays to laugh at such ideas.I envy those who have never had cause to be convinced of their reality, and Ihope that you may long remain among the number.But should that not be so, should those unseen influences ever touch your life, Iwant you to remember then, that, as one of the race for whom Christ died, you have as high a citizenship in that spirit land as any creature there: that you are your own soul's warden, and that neither principalities nor powers can rob you of that your birthright."I think my face must have shown my bewilderment, for he dropped my hand, and walked on with an impatient sigh.
"You don't understand me.Why should you? I dare-say that I am talking nonsense--only--only--"His voice expressed such an agony of doubt and hesitation that Iburst out--
"I think that I do understand you a little, Alan.You mean that even from unearthly enemies there is nothing that we need really fear--at least, that is, I suppose, nothing worse than death.But that is surely enough!""Why should you fear death?" he said, abruptly; "your soul will live.""Yes, I know that, but still--" I stopped with a shudder.
"What is life after all but one long death?" he went on, with sudden violence."Our pleasures, our hopes, our youth are all dying; ambition dies, and even desire at last; our passions and tastes will die, or will live only to mourn their dead opportunity.
The happiness of love dies with the loss of the loved, and, worst of all, love itself grows old in our hearts and dies.Why should we shrink only from the one death which can free us from all the others?""It is not true, Alan!" I cried, hotly."What you say is not true.
There are many things even here which are living and shall live;and if it were otherwise, in everything, life that ends in death is better than no life at all.""You say that," he answered, "because for you these things are yet living.To leave life now, therefore, while it is full and sweet, untainted by death, surely that is not a fate to fear.Better, a thousand times better, to see the cord cut with one blow while it is still whole and strong, and to launch out straight into the great ocean, than to sit watching through the slow years, while strand after strand, thread by thread, loosens and unwinds itself,--each with its own separate pang breaking, bringing the bitterness of death without its release.
His manner, the despairing ring in his voice, alarmed me even more than his words.Clinging to his arm with both hands, while the tears sprang to my eyes--"Alan," I cried, "don't say such things,--don't talk like that.
You are making me miserable."
