THE PLACE OF THE BEAUTIFUL.
"WHAT is that queer object yonder, Evelyn? Your eyes are younger than
mine," and Squire Hazelwood pointed in the distance where the sun had
just lighted up a glade in the park, revealing little gleams of beauty
before unseen.
"I cannot tell yet, father, we must get nearer; it is too small for a
cow, perhaps it's a calf; let me canter Fairy over the turf and see
what it is."
And touching her pony with the whip, she bounded over the intervening
sward, to the great admiration of the Squire, who loved to have her the
companion of his morning ride whenever he could presume to interrupt
the duties of the schoolroom. Not choosing to tear up the turf with the
heavier hoofs of his horse, he trotted round towards the spot where
Evelyn sat laughing at the object so unrecognisable at the greater
distance.
"Ha! I see you were right, Evelyn; yes, it is a calf." And the Squire
laughed merrily at the discovery.
The object was no other than Guy on his back, shading his eyes with his
cap, and studying the soft white clouds that sailed across the blue sky.
"Yes, of course it's a calf, Evelyn; let him finish his dream; but
ho! Young sir, you had better remember that you were not born to the
herd-life of Nebuchadnezzar, and there is such a thing as rheumatism in
these parts, which are not exempt from 'all the ills that flesh is heir
to.' Come along, Evelyn."
"Poor lad," he continued as they rode away, "if he is going to dream
away his life like that, I don't know what he will be fit for. I'm glad
he's no son of mine."
Now Miss Evelyn was not pleased with the tone of such remarks, and
wishing to impress her father with more respect for Guy's capacity, she
resolved to tell him of the great scheme which lighted up the dreamer's
future, and which would prove that he had at least an object in life,
though how it was to be furthered by lying about on the grass she did
not exactly see. So drawing close to her father's side, and looking
eagerly up at him,—
"But, father," she began, "you will never guess what a wonderful thing
Guy means to do—that is, if you let him, though I don't think you will."
"I'm sure I shall never guess at anything very wonderful in him, so
you will have to tell me, little woman; and pray don't imagine that I
should have the heart to hinder him."
"Well, father, it is this. Turn your head this way, that I may see how
astonished you will be. He says he is going to earn money enough to buy
back the Moat House from you. There now!"
The Squire certainly was surprised, and burst into a loud fit of
laughter as the most appropriate expression of it.
"Buy back the Moat, will he? Poor lad, poor lad! He may well lie on
his back with a bee like that in his bonnet,—ha! ha! ha! Excuse me, my
dear, for it really is the most ludicrous thing I have heard for years.
Buy back the Moat with money that he will earn!—Poor lad, poor lad!"
"He is not 'poor lad' at all, father," said Evelyn, indignantly; "he
has plenty of great, good thoughts in him."
"I dare say he has, but they will always be only thoughts. I cannot
help laughing, Evelyn. Why, his pale face and thin body haven't enough
life in them to do much harm or good in this world, poor lad. So he is
going to buy back the Moat! Well, all I can say is, let him, if he can;
we needn't feel very much alarmed at him, my little woman."
"I am not at all alarmed, father," said Evelyn, with some vexation at
his disrespectful mirth.
"No, I should think not, child, it's too comical to be serious about;
but I rather like his spirit, I didn't know it was in him, even to
dream about."
"Father is quite disagreeable this morning," thought Evelyn. "I almost
think I shall be on Guy's side, and wish he may buy it back some day.
What fun it would be! Poor lad, indeed! I cannot think what makes my
father talk in that way." And she tried to believe that the face was
not so very pale, and the long, thin figure not so very weak, though by
the stout, strong proportions of Squire Hazelwood, whom, had she lived
some years later in the world's age, she might have been disposed to
pronounce "jolly," Guy certainly did not look robust—or vulgar.
Then his tastes were singular, and not usually such as obtained
sympathy from the Squire, though Mr. Herbert's report of him as a
student was thoroughly satisfactory. He would spend hours watching the
clouds; would steal among the cattle, and coax them into picturesque
groups; tether a sheep or a goat, and take its portrait; study every
variety of foliage that adorned the changing seasons; and within the
cover of his little despised portfolio, treasured art-secrets that
should be revealed some future day.
Mr. Herbert observed and was disappointed; he would have preferred a
different career for his interesting pupil. Mrs. Falconer observed,
and waited too; perhaps she also would gladly have seen indications of
a desire for some remunerative profession or pursuit; but her means
of promoting it being very small, she did not venture too urgently to
propose a decision.
"Time enough yet," the Squire would say, in order to comfort her
concerning her boy; "he has not strength of body yet to bear him
through any great struggle in life. Another year of these green fields
and old woods that he seems to love so much, and then Master Guy must
shake himself up, and tell us what he is fit for."
But Guy was not idle, and would take no mean place as a scholar if sent
into either of the public schools; and the rapid development of his
talent as an artist was secretly proved by the occupation of every hour
that could be devoted to this overruling aim.
The works of God for his model could not but ennoble and purify his
taste, and such a choice would probably be a safe-guard from many
of the temptations of the world. But was it possible that Guy would
seek through it the fulfilment of ambitions at which he had sometimes
hinted? It was possible, and it was a fact.
"I cannot be a clergyman," thought he; "I am not good enough to preach
to others."
"You must preach by your life," whispered an indwelling monitor; "see
that the sermon be sound and faithful."
"I do not like the law, it has so much to do with injustice and
contention."
"Blessed are the peacemakers," rose to his mind.
"I cannot be a merchant, for I have no money to begin with."
"Thou shalt not covet," said the monitor again.
"I think I can paint in time, and I love it more than anything that
seems within my reach. But will it do any good in the world?"
"'Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord
Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by Him.'"
"And if I cannot do that, I will not be a painter," thought Guy; "to
earn money is all very well, and I like the idea very much, but it
isn't everything. Can I serve God in my work? I can think about Him,
love Him, admire Him, but can I serve Him by copying His beautiful
works on to my canvas, and wishing men to buy the representation? Is it
not selfish, useless in the world? Are people the better for the study
of art?"
And Guy reluctantly carried this new perplexity to his mother, for as
she had already earned money by the exercise of her talent, she must in
some way have faced and overcome the same difficulty.
"I am not prepared to assert that the world is any better for a
multitude of the things that are nevertheless lawfully done in it,"
said Mrs. Falconer; "it may perhaps be pleasanter for many a pursuit
which rises no higher than man's own gratification, and in moderation
such may be enjoyed; we are to 'use the world as not abusing it.' If
any lover of art can afford, without neglecting higher claims, to adorn
his house with a pictured record of the loveliness of scenes which have
charmed his sight, and of which he desires to preserve the memory, he
is not doing wrong; and if he cannot paint, he can purchase."
"Very well, dear mother, this brings us to the point. A man's house can
do without such adornment, though it may not look so elegant, and the
responsibility falls upon those who possess the power to supply that
deficiency."
"Who bestows that power? Where does it come from?" asked Mrs. Falconer.
"'Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above,'—is that an
answer?" said Guy.
"Yes, dear boy, it is the answer. And if we recognise the Giver, and
the proper end of all His gifts, we are solemnly responsible for the
use we make of them."
"Then you don't think there is anything wrong or trifling or
inconsistent in trying to be a clever artist, mother?"
"Certainly not, if one feels that it is an endowment of one's nature,
and circumstances in God's providence admit of its cultivation; but it
is very foolish, and useless also, for anyone to insist upon selecting
such a study if he possess no natural qualifications for it. There are
certain things that no amount of effort will ever attain; they belong
to the individual, are his by nature, and make what man calls genius."
"Do you mean when one's mind and thoughts and hopes and chosen work run
in any special channel, and one wishes to press everything into its
service, that one may be said to have a genius for it?" said Guy, with
a flush on his cheek, and a new light dancing in his eyes.
"I think it would not be wrong to conclude so; and in the useful
occupations of life, it is often a great satisfaction to see men's
delight in their chosen pursuits. What should we do if none of our
youths loved the sea, and seemed made on purpose to brave its dangers,
and enjoy its wonders? What mercies to mankind have resulted from the
physician's skill; but what drudgeries to undergo, what disagreeables
to encounter, what researches to pursue, before he can hope to attain
any eminence; and if he does at last attain it, his love and enthusiasm
for his profession have borne him over hindrances and difficulties
before which an indifferent student would have quailed in disgust or
settled down in mediocrity."
"Ah, yes, mother; but you see you have selected two occupations that
are necessary in the welfare of one's country or fellow creatures. Now
nobody is the better for painting, so far as I can perceive."
"Many are greatly the worse, Guy. A noble gift perverted it one of
Satan's instruments. Poetry and music rank in a similar position; but
enlist them all in the cause of truth, morality, and Christian love,
and they exercise a power for good which God can bless and prosper. For
this they were given, and woe to those who have profaned them for baser
uses."
"I want to feel sure that the profession I choose shall not be a mere
fancy of my own—a lazy sham for occupation, because I am obliged to
work; and it will not satisfy me that I love it, and delight in it, and
even succeed in it, if it never does good to anybody in the world. Why,
I might actually do harm, of I induced people to buy my pictures when
they ought to spend their money in some other way."
"I hope, if you knew that to be the case, you would not induce them,
Guy."
"No, of course I would not. Still, I want to see just the right
principle and motive, mother—one that will stand through everything."
"It is necessary in the providence of God that you should devote your
time and talents, whatever they may be, to gain your own living, dear
Guy, and it would comfort my heart if in so doing, you should be
able to make a home some day for our Maude, when either she might be
unemployed, or I may—"
"Hush, my mother; I can't bear your 'may be.' I want to make a home for
you both, or it will be no home to me."
"Then you have an honest, lawful motive, Guy."
"So I have, mother—a motive for work that will bear me through any
drudgery of preparation. Now for the sphere of it. My natural taste,
desire, conscious possession of some degree of—of talent, shall I
say?—point to the ornamental. I do wish I had a clear hard head for
something outrageously useful, quite indispensable to all the world!"
"Well," said his mother, smiling, "on the supposition that it is
to be something among the Fine Arts, let us try to find a little
encouragement."
"That's just what I want, mother; to be engaged in some way that God
can approve, while I am earning my subsistence by it."
"We must look back a long way, Guy, for our first token. I suppose
that when God created man 'in His own image,' the tastes, feelings
and perceptions of the creature were in perfect harmony with, if not
a reflection of, the mind of the Creator, and we know that he, with
all around him, was pronounced 'very good.' Now the dwelling-place of
this happy, holy one might have been merely some safe and peaceful spot
where communion with his Maker was sufficient to beautify it, even had
it been a forest or a plain.
"But we are told that it was 'a garden,' planted by the hand of God
Himself, and in which He caused to grow 'every tree that is pleasant
to the sight, and good for food.' Whatever would gratify an innate
appreciation of the beautiful was as indulgently provided as the
useful and necessary food for the body. We cannot doubt that Eden was
a scene of loveliness such as our world has never since possessed;
and the graceful occupation of 'dressing and keeping' it, involving
no toil, simply exercised that degree of refined taste and perfect
sense of order and harmony with which its lord would be endowed. These
attributes, though sullied by the fall, are not extinct in Adam's
children."
"No, that they are not," said Guy; "for you know what beautiful work
and richly-blended or contrasted colours the Indian tribes produce, and
in some of the ideas and speeches of untutored savages it almost seems
as if they thought and spoke in poetry."
"True; and while some among the more favoured races take advantage
of circumstances to develop these instinctive perceptions into some
practical form, others are content with their power of appreciation,
and enjoy sympathetically what genius provides; and mercifully so.
It is painful enough to hear bad music, read miserable rhapsodies
miscalled poetry, and be called upon to admire daubs that lack all the
requirements of true art, the first being a strict adherence to nature;
but happily these self-deceivers are not numerous, and usually give up
under want of encouragement.
"Thousands who can never be musicians delight in music; they have
the internal sense of harmony, but not the voice or touch of skill:
thousands who cannot sketch a gate-post, gaze with admiration on a
picture which tells its story to their eyes and hearts. Therefore the
influence of genius in works of art is a responsibility for which its
possessor will be called to solemn account, for it raises a standard
beneath which national character will be either elevated or corrupted.
"A gifted man may dedicate his genius to purity and virtue, and so
guide public taste and feeling in the right direction; or he may
degrade his gifts to the sensuous and profane, and leave the stamp of
satanic triumph on his day and generation. To use genius aright, dear
Guy, it must be consecrated and directed by the Spirit of Almighty God.
In all that is beautiful and sublime, He, the source of beauty, the
impersonation of all perfection, is the safe and willing Guide."
"Then, if His glory be our aim, we cannot go too far in the exercise of
His own gifts?" said Guy.
"Remembering, of course, to keep within the limits of obedience to His
own commands."
"Of course, mother. What makes you say that? Can anything be done for
God's glory that disobeys His will?"
"Yes, Guy, and therefore I added the warning. Men have so far deceived
themselves as to call into requisition some of the greatest triumphs
of art, and profess them for His glory and honour, while distinctly
violating His revealed commands."
"Ah! I know what you mean now, mother; but surely that sort of
profession is either hypocrisy or ignorance."
"It results from both, and with God's Word before us, both are wholly
inexcusable."
"Now, mother, I must just mention something that is in my mind on this
very point, and I'm glad our little talk has brought us to it. You know
our old church is very old indeed, and getting sadly dilapidated, and I
should like to see it made respectable."
"So should I, my dear boy; and I think probably when Mr. Hazelwood is
able to attend to it, he will have it made so."
"Well, suppose he gave me leave to do whatever I please with it; it is
God's house—"
"You mean it is, and always has been, devoted to purposes of Christian
worship."
"Yes, it is not used for anything else. Well now, could I make it too
beautiful with all the taste and skill in architecture, painting, and
sculpture, that I could muster to adorn it?"
"For a museum of beautiful things, an exhibition of your taste and
liberality, or for its present purpose; which do you intend?"
"Of course for its present use—a place where the Gospel is preached,
and where people meet to pray, and hear, and praise."
"Then to be acceptable to God, the worship must be according to His
known mind about it."
"Yes, of course, mother."
"Then listen, dear Guy; 'God is a Spirit, and they that warship Him,
must worship in spirit and in truth.' Whatever would interfere with
the exercise of spirit, by interesting or attracting the senses, is
an intrusion on the sanctity and exclusiveness of spiritual worship.
It is not with eye or ear, but with heart, soul, and conscience, that
God communes in His worshippers. He does not say, 'I dwell in gorgeous
temples, or on decorated altars;' but, on the contrary, He 'dwelleth
not in temples made with hands; neither is worshipped with men's hands,
as though He needed anything;' yet He has a dwelling-place on earth,
and where?
"The prophet tells us, 'Thus saith the high and lofty One that
inhabiteth eternity, I dwell in the high and holy place, with him,
also, that is of a contrite and humble spirit.' That is the true
invocation of the Divine presence, be it where it may—in a cathedral or
a barn; the external scene has nothing to do with it. God's 'high and
holy place' is a name for His eternal presence in sovereign majesty;
and from it, He bends in pardoning love to meet and bless the repentant
sinner."
"But, mother, do you think it may be more acceptable to God, more like
apprehending His perfections, if we ask Him to meet and bless us in
beautiful buildings, and among objects that we value and admire?"
"No, my dear Guy, it is not really so, however some imagine it. If man
were perfect again, it might be so; but experience proves the fact
that in proportion to the increase of external appliance and ornament
in the worship of the professing Church, was the decrease of spiritual
religion and practical godliness in heart and life, and the growth of
those corruptions which made what men called Christianity, a scandal
and disgrace to Europe.
"It is only the spirit-taught soul and consecrated heart that can offer
acceptable worship through the Great High Priest; and when men took
upon themselves to do it in their own way, and according to their own
sensuous ideas of beauty and acceptability, they had to find their
offerings turn to corruption, and their boasted improvements become
abuses. The main reason was to be found in the neglect of the Bible,
the only true standard of faith and holiness.
"'The entrance of Thy words giveth light; it giveth understanding unto
the simple,' was the experience of man; and the fact was observed by
man's great enemy; therefore to hide away God's words, and pre-occupy
the mind with human superstitions, alike served Satan's end and
the ambition of those who aimed at the subjugation of the minds
and consciences of their fellow sinners, and the enjoyment of the
Diotrephes spirit which assumes the blasphemous authority of a priestly
medium between God and man. Keep close to God's Holy Word, dear Guy,
and you will escape the snares of mere formal religion, as well as of
false teachers, however plausible both may be."
"But yet, mother, we know that when Moses was being instructed about
the Tabernacle, God actually inspired the work-people to do the
beautiful things that were required, as if no human skill could be
perfect enough."
"Quite true. No human idea could reach the occasion; for do you not
remember what that Tabernacle was to represent? It was to be made after
'the pattern' shown to Moses in 'the Mount;' this is carefully recorded
several times. * And what was that 'pattern'? However 'shown,' whether
by word or by illustration, it was nothing less than the dealing of God
in Christ with man in redemption and salvation. Such a plan could never
have been conceived by human intellect, and it required Divine teaching
to embody Divine truth in such type and symbol, or figure, as should
concentrate attention on the object to be represented."
* Exodus xxxi., xxxv., and Hebrews viii.
"The materials to be used were of God's own creation, and were to be
of the best and purest—gold, silver, and precious stones; cedar, silk,
flax, skins—and the working up of them into their destined use must be
by His own special instruction. So Bezaleel and Aholiab were 'called
by name,' and made as it were foremen of the work, 'filled with the
Spirit of God in wisdom and understanding,' that they might direct
and superintend all the 'wise-hearted' work-people who were selected
for the occasion. We must never forget for a moment that all these
arrangements were typical of something future; and these types were to
be apprehended by the senses, and obeyed in the practice, until the
right time should come for the reality to appear with the spiritual
truths prefigured.
"In due season, God sent forth His Son, 'the brightness of His glory,
the express image of His person,' united to our human nature with all
its sinless infirmities, to be, not only the manifestation of God in
righteous love to man, but to be also the representative of man to God,
obeying for us, dying for us, rising again for us, and re-uniting in
holy harmony for all believers the link that sin had broken between God
and man. Then the end and meaning of all those blood-sprinkled rites
and solemn services were fulfilled and understood; God no longer spoke
by altar and sacrifice, slain lambs and Aaronic priests, but by His
Son, 'the Word made flesh.'
"Then to retain the shadows would have interfered with the right
reception of the grand reality; and when the true Sacrifice declared
the long-prefigured deed accomplished, and bowed His head, and died,
the veil of the temple was rent from top to bottom, and the symbolic
ritual was abolished by the same Divine Hand that had instituted it.
"Simplicity and truth, decency and order, are the characteristics of
the new dispensation of the Holy Spirit, whose office is to take of
the things of Jesus, and show them to the spiritual understandings of
all who believe. Whatever distracts the mind, through eye or ear, by
painting, sculpture, music, from the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, is
an offence to God, a perversion of human talent, and an inevitable
hindrance to spiritual worship. If in their weak misapprehension of God
and truth, people call such things 'helps to devotion,' as many do, it
is because they slight the power of the promised Spirit, who 'searcheth
all things, yea, the deep things of God.'
"'The natural man,' or the man in his worldly, unrenewed nature, can
receive the emotional enjoyment of gazing on a pictured crucifixion, or
of listening to a thrilling Mass, and fancy it devotion; but the honour
of the passing excitement goes to the gifted painter and the skilled
musician, for 'the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit
of God,' and 'the things of God knoweth no man but the Spirit of God,'
and they must be 'spiritually discerned."
"Then no one really taught what true worship of God consists in should
feel any need of help," said Guy, musingly.
"I did not say that, my dear boy. Help is needed, but not human help.
Our Father knows how weak and unable we are to do anything as we should
like to do it, however truly we love and adore Him, so He has provided
the needed help. Do we want to pray? 'Likewise the Spirit also helpeth
our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought;
but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groaning which
cannot be uttered.' So you see prayer is not restricted even to words.
"And if we desire to praise, 'O Lord, open Thou my lips; and my mouth
shall show forth Thy praise.' 'My lips shall utter praise when Thou
hast taught me Thy statutes.' 'Let my soul live, and it shall praise
Thee,' which no 'dead' soul can do. Let us call things by their right
names, and not mistake one for another."
"But you do not object to beautiful music in the worship of God, dear
mother. I have heard you sing your very best in church."
"I am very glad you thought so, Guy. And few things are more delightful
than the praises of our God, sung from the heart, by voices cultivated
with scientific taste. Only, let us sing to the glory of God, and not
to the glory of ourselves or the mere gratification of the sensitive
ear."
"It seems a natural thing that when rich people become Christians, they
should like to spend money upon things connected with religion, though,
mother."
"Very natural indeed, dear Guy; but at the same time, unless the desire
is rightly directed, it may produce much harm."
"What would you consider being 'rightly directed,' mother?"
"I think a rich Christian should be content with much simplicity and
plainness in the externals of worship, not only because his own heart
in its loving communion with God in Christ soars far above all visible
things, but also lest he should be the means of misleading others, and
helping on their self-deception. He may take care that 'the place where
prayer is wont to be made,' and fellow Christians assemble to worship
God, is substantial, respectable, and, if you like, even handsome
in its proportions and provision for its purpose. But there his
responsibility ends in that behalf, and his sympathies are commanded
in another direction, namely, 'to visit the fatherless and widows in
their affliction,'—to seek out the lost and miserable, the hungry, the
naked, the sick, the oppressed, and in Christ's name, and for His sake,
minister to them of the substance committed to his stewardship. This
is the service which our Lord recognises as done unto Him. And it is
no sign of health in any professing communion when the decoration of a
visible temple takes the place of spiritual truth in the preparation
of the 'living stones' of the spiritual temple, 'the habitation of God
through the Spirit.'"
"Well now, mother, what about the Puritans? I am glad to feel that I
have real sympathy with their cause, and glory in their noble stand
against tyranny and priestcraft, when the religion and liberties of
England were threatened either by the weak or the wicked; but did they
not push non-essential matters to an extreme?"
"Unhappily it is the tendency of the human mind to rush to extremes,
and many a noble cause has been damaged by the violent reaction which
results from success. The Puritans (why, Guy, the very name is an
honourable witness) restored the supremacy of God's Word, with its holy
precepts of self-denial and godliness. Their men were majestic men,
firm of purpose, bold in action, wise in counsel, because they gave
due place to the souls within them, and lived, not as half men, but
whole men, not for time only, but for eternity; their women took their
anointed place, 'adorned with good works,' as 'daughters of the Lord
Almighty;' and experience testified of Puritanic principles, that they
were sound and safe, and never more so than in domestic life."
"But were they not too rigid and severe? Were they not hard and stern
about things that were innocent and natural, and so made their religion
distasteful and disagreeable, instead of lovable and winning?"
"I think it is true that they were often hard and strict in their
anxiety to exterminate the real licentiousness and abominations of the
time—they sometimes swept away lawful preferences and simple pleasures;
but when men have had to fight their way to freedom and virtue for
law and life, they may stand excused for trying to guard every avenue
through which the recurrence of past sin and degradation might threaten
their recovered rights. And it is a fact that no political bias or
religious partisanship can gainsay, that the less of luxury in the
life, and the simpler the form of worship among the people, the higher
rose our national character, and the stronger our moral influence among
the rulers of Europe. Let us take care that the beam of real disloyalty
to God and His holy truth is not in our own eyes, while condemning the
mote that may have interfered with the perfect light of our Puritan
forefathers'."
"It is just this, then, mother, to my mind in real desire to know the
truth. People were already made to anything that turned up in either
religion or politics that human schemes could devise, but to make a
true Puritan required the grace of God. I would have preferred to be
a Puritan if I had lived in those days, even if they would not have
allowed me to paint."
"I am glad to find that you are not fettered by prejudice, dear
Guy; for it is painful to hear the narrow judgments and one-sided
views of so many young people who are wholly ignorant of historical
and biographical facts, and are carried away with romantic
misrepresentations of heroism and honour. As for allowing you to
paint, those times were too full of stern realities to admit of much
cultivation of the arts; but many a brave Puritan endured portraiture,
and we need not forget that the sublimest poet England ever produced
was John Milton the Puritan."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]