SCHOOLS OF THOUGHT.
THERE could be no doubt that Guy Falconer possessed genius for
painting, and that an ardent love of what men call "Nature" inspired
its direction, and ruled his taste. His efforts indicated a peculiar
style of his own, and his friends were advised to leave it unbiased
and unrestricted in its developments, until it should appear into what
school of study, for detail and experience, it might most suitably be
directed.
With the free air of the country around him, his health improved,
his form grew strong and manly, and his character began to manifest
a vigour and decision which rendered his associations of the highest
importance.
His mother and Mr. Herbert had sought to lay a good foundation of
Christian principles, and if Guy should go wrong, it would never be
from ignorance of right. But they knew that only the Holy Spirit of God
could implant love of the right, and guide to useful issues the quick
perceptions and firm will which they had prayerfully striven to rescue
from idle waste and natural selfishness.
Without cramping the gaiety of youth, his studies had been solid and
strengthening; what he knew at all, he knew well, and if he ventured an
opinion, it came from no shallow surface, but from a mine of thought in
which it had been carefully shaped, though more for soundness than for
ornament, and sometimes, perhaps, was also more sincere than polite.
Mr. Herbert claimed a stated portion of his time for real hard work
in the study, in preparation for a college course which Mr. Hazelwood
particularly desired him to pass through, and then Guy was free to
enjoy his companionship with the field of vision round him.
And then the morning mist, and evening sunset, the haze on distant
hills, the clouds and sky in storm and calm, the moonbeam on the river,
the foliage of park and wood, deer and cattle, ivied tower and village
cot, by turns caught the artist's eye, and supplied studies for his
pencil.
Thanks to the influences which had hitherto shielded his life, Guy
had learned much of the Creator from His own written Record, and
manifestation in His Son Jesus Christ, before doing homage to "His
eternal power and Godhead" in "the things that are made;" and when,
feeling the meagerness of human language to express his wondering
appreciation, the sweet words of Divine inspiration came suitably
to his aid, and the Psalmist of Israel had tuned the lyre to which
believing hearts through successive ages should chant their songs of
praise.
And while, in self-abasing contrast with the Divine Majesty, he
exclaimed with David, "'Lord, what is man that Thou are mindful
of him?" * He was able to advance with Paul into the solution of
the mystery, and by faith to "see Jesus, who was made a little
lower than the angels," ‡ a suffering, sorrowing Man, "that He, by
the grace of God, should taste death for every man," and in the
glorious consummation, having subdued all enemies, and abolished all
consequences of sin from the once perfect creation, will reinstate
the lawful King over His restored inheritance, and then again shall
"His name be excellent in all the earth," and all things animate and
inanimate respond to their original intent, and "everything that hath
existence shall praise the Lord."
* Psa. viii. ‡ Heb. ii.
Guy came to his wide field of study groping after no "unknown God,"
but from the presence of "the Truth" alone commissioned to reveal
Him. There is no risk of mistake when the spirit of man as a learner
listens to the Spirit of God as the teacher, and "looking unto Jesus"
apprehends the mighty import of the Divine proclamation, "This is My
beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased."
Whatever his chosen sphere of duty, the young believer is thus
fore-armed, and Christ has a faithful soldier in the battle field.
Intent on his congenial occupation, Guy was one day sketching, beneath
a group of trees that might have been planted specially as an artist's
post of observation, the picturesque village of Pine-wood End, where
the new school-house was becoming prominent against a background of
foliage rising abruptly on a steep hill-side.
An approaching footstep, a little imitation cough failing to attract
his notice, a voice tried effect upon his ear, and turning round he
saw a gentlemanly-looking young man, who had been pointed out a short
time before as the new tutor to the son of Sir Ryland N— of N— Hall, a
neighbouring landowner.
"I beg your pardon," said he, gaily, "but may I not presume to admire
your work?"
"No, sir," said Guy, smiling; "unless you wish me to think lightly of
your judgment. But you may expend as much admiration as you please
on the scene I am trying to represent. You will not find many so
gracefully combining variety and interest."
"Ah! Now you remind me of a landsman trying to beguile an old sailor,"
said the young man, laughing. "You have not travelled, or you would
scarcely notice a spot like this."
"Then I should not care to travel," said Guy. "But it need not be so.
We may travel to admire and wonder, without losing preference for the
land where we live and love."
"Ah, I see; at present your eyes are in the heart rather than the
head, and I dare say that is very pleasant for the time. But what if
some savage from the desert or jungle, some oily Greenlander from the
icebergs, or thick-headed Serf from Siberian steppes were to meet you
with this preference theory?"
"I should honour the sentiment, whatever I might think of his taste,"
returned Guy; "but I do not allow that preference indicates want of
appreciation."
"Well, well, I can only confess for myself a delight in the beautiful
and good wherever I find it," replied the stranger, with an air of
self-satisfaction that rather provoked his hearer.
"An equal amount of delight?" he inquired.
"Certainly, according to the nature of the subject. Why not?"
"Then," said Guy, laughing, "you deserve to go down—
"'To the vile dust from whence you sprung.
Unwept, unhonoured, and unsung.'"
"Come now, that is a challenge," said the stranger, seating himself at
the foot of the tree, "and I am sure you will not deny me the right
to defend myself. I should like to convince you that this idea is
altogether too narrow and mean for anything so great and wide as man's
capacities of intellect and affection. We are, as it were, off-shoots
of Deity; we are to emulate our origin, and our sympathies ought to
be as generous and universal. Benevolence and beauty being our ideal
of God, we worship Him in them wherever they exist, without regard to
place or time, or other associations."
"There must be other associations in my ideal of God," said Guy,
gravely. "A being all beauty and benevolence might lack wisdom,
power, truth, justice, and we need not forget that this very want,
with inability to comprehend the union of all such attributes in one
Supreme, led to the multiplication of deities in heathen worship."
"Well, you will grant at any rate that the Supreme Being whom we
worship is a fount of benevolence and beauty, results of which are
spread out everywhere, and everywhere demanding equal homage and
admiration?"
"In what way rendered?" asked Guy, after a pause.
"Oh, in our enjoyment and happiness, our appreciative instincts, of
course. What gives pleasure and makes happiness for His creatures must
derive its own reward in the bestowal."
"That is to say that my satisfaction in good health, in the enjoyment
of plenty, in a beautiful landscape, is God's reward for creating
such agreeable things, and that He requires from me no further
acknowledgment?—I am worshipping acceptably in receiving and enjoying?"
"It is not just the way I would put it," said the young tutor; "but let
it stand if you like."
"It is the plain English of your statement," said Guy; "and suppose for
the moment it is granted. It is only one side of things. Take the other
side, in things great or small. A frightful storm that wrecks ships of
all sizes on our shores, and makes hundreds of widows and orphans in
a night; an earthquake that swallows up the good and bad alike; the
sickness that wastes, the poverty that crushes, the deformity that
revolts, the tears of bitterness that fall on many an innocent face,
what then of your fanciful ideal of God? How do His attributes of
benevolence and beauty stand in such a contrast? Who enjoys, who has
satisfaction in such scenes? Who renders worship then to Him who is so
beautiful and good?"
"I cannot, of course, enter at once into proofs from natural philosophy
that would meet your argument so far as the laws of nature are
concerned, but doubtless it can be met. The moral objections are more
difficult to understand and deal with, but I think reason suggests that
out of such seeming ills some hidden good evolves, which, if we knew
it, would vindicate benevolence and goodness to our satisfaction."
"You have come to my armoury for that weapon to parry my thrust," said
Guy; "you take that view by faith, and you know it is written in the
Book of Truth; your mere reason could not have discovered it, and I
claim the credit where it is due."
"I cannot help it if our different schools of thought bring us to the
same conclusion," said the stranger, affecting to laugh. "Your Book of
Truth ought not to contradict my reason."
"It explains and reconciles what mere reason cannot reach," said Guy;
"and when pressed by facts, your ideal a Deity snatches a ray from the
source of Light and Truth, which only makes your darkness more visible;
but error is not scrupulous."
"Upon my word, I was not prepared for this encounter," said the
stranger, gaily; "I usually let people think as they please, for it
is not worth while to disturb them, and I always give them credit for
intending to think and act for the best."
"Then you have no standard: you let everyone invent his own God, and
admit that all may be equally true, or, pardon me for adding, care not
if all are equally false?"
"Really I prefer to use more courteous terms to myself, and judge that
I exercise Christian charity," said the tutor.
"Not Christian charity, sir, excuse me," said Guy. "True Christian
charity declares God's view of man and his condition, and the terms on
which they can be reconciled. Sin has made all the disturbance, and
caused all the seeming contradictions, and 'the wages of sin is death;
but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.' 'He
that is our God is the God of salvation,' and that He could not be,
if judgment and justice, mercy and truth were not the attributes of
His character, and the essence of His rule. Benevolence might pity the
fallen, and beauty lament over ruin, but it needed mercy and truth to
redeem, while wisdom planned, and love fulfilled the heavenly scheme
which proved that God is also just, while justifying the repentant
sinner. Pray do not think me presumptuous for holding the light to your
straying steps. Take it for your own, and they will become safe and
steady."
"You seem so much in earnest, young sir, that I will not charge you
with presumption, though methinks more years have passed over my head
than over yours, and my experiences and advantages have been greater."
"Years should give wisdom," said Guy, "and I should have been happy to
learn from you, had you spoken 'as one having authority;' but if giants
in human learning come and assail a boy-believer in the God of the
Bible, they must expect a pebble from his sling whether it hits or not,
and for that I cannot apologize."
"The people I meet with seem to find it too much trouble to think, and
it is rather refreshing to find someone with a mind of his own, so I
ask no apology, and shall be happy to become better acquainted," said
the stranger, offering his card. "Besides, I think you can give me some
information about the school-house yonder. I am told that religious
services are to be conducted there, there, for which some minister will
be required. My position here leaves a good deal of time on my hands,
and if I make up my mind to take orders, do you think it is open to me
to offer myself for the post?"
"If I am not presumptuous again," said Guy, unable to conceal his
surprise, "I cannot but wonder at the idea of accepting orders to do
what you disapprove of doing. Mr. and Mrs. Hazelwood intend that 'the
gospel of the grace of God' shall be proclaimed there, and your ideal
of God and human need flatly contradicts it."
"Oh, but you don't imagine I should treat those rustics to such
subjects as you and I can discuss together! They must be taught to be
honest and sober, and speak the truth, and obey their superiors."
"Fruit and flowers!" said Guy. "But you will have to do with thorns and
thistles. How will you 'make the tree good' that it may produce 'good
fruit'?"
"Oh, we must have patience, and work them round. Now one great means of
awing and solemnizing such people has been forgotten: there is nothing
striking or impressive about those buildings; they are too simple and
plain, and will be entered without reverence or fear; but just drop
your ignorant rustics into a magnificent cathedral, and observe the
effect! Why they would feel as if all the gods of the universe were
present there!"
"A flattering estimate of their case, certainly!" said Guy. "But,
notwithstanding, you might happen to find among them, those who know
why they assemble, and could tell you of One who said, 'Where two or
three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of
them.'"
"Possibly, if you have been taking a class there, for I am at no loss
to know your school of thought by this time. Then you think if I were
to apply to your respected squire, my success is doubtful?"
"Not at all," said Guy; "you have but to talk about 'schools of
thought' at the Moat House, and your design to grow on 'grapes on
thorns,' and 'figs on thistles,' and the matter would be quite settled."
"Really! Are they so narrow? It is a sad weakness of the Evangelical
school to think none can be right but themselves. I prefer the grand
broad view of God the benevolent Father of the whole human family,
and the universal brotherhood of man. It is the most comfortable,
good-tempered view of things, I assure you, and gives a pleasant
feeling towards one's fellow creatures."
"Ignorant rustics among the rest?" inquired Guy.
"Certainly. No rushing at people as if they were going to destruction,
and fretting your soul because they won't be saved."
"But saying, 'Peace, peace, when there is no peace," said Guy
indignantly. "No, sir, your school of thought has the wrong
head-master; but go to the Moat, and listen to those who belong to the
only school where effectual instruction can be had; they will tell you
far better than I can of the claims it has on your reverend attention,
and show you a standing more trustworthy than your shifting sands and
slippery self-complaisance."
"If report speaks truly, you have no great reason to championise the
present owner of The Moat," said the stranger carelessly.
"Then report as usual is false, sir," returned Guy, warmly. "It was a
good day for me, and for all the Falcon Range, when it passed into the
hands of its present owner."
"I beg your pardon, I thought it might be otherwise."
"And you forget your 'grand broad view' of 'universal brotherhood'
in sympathising with one at the expense of another," said Guy.
"Consistency, I suppose, is too lowly a study for your lofty school."
The stranger burst into a laugh as he replied,—
"You caught me there, I admit, but do not take me for an illustration
of my 'school'; I am very far from an accomplished scholar yet."
"I am glad to believe it," said Guy, kindly and frankly: "your heart
is not satisfied, and will not allow you to be as comfortable as you
pretend. Listen to it: it knows God is saying, 'My Son, give me thine
heart,' and inwardly feels, too, that only He knows what to do with it."
"Is it true," asked the stranger, "that the Falconers' ancestry
belonged to the Catholic Church?"
"Not since the Reformation," said Guy, rather struck with the terms of
the inquiry. "Their chaplain became a Protestant, and soon the family
and retainers followed, for he read daily from the word of God, and he
found no Popery there. The sexton will be delighted to show you the
remains of the old Bible that was chained to the reading-desk, and was
listened to by the people who gathered from miles round the country. He
can give you the history of those times, and of several relics of them
for which he has great veneration."
"Relics! I thought Protestants ignored relics."
"Perhaps these are allowable," replied Guy, smiling, "giving special
significance to words you must know very well: 'We have heard with our
ears, and our fathers have declared unto us the noble works that Thou
didst in their days, and in the old time before them,' delivering us
from persecution and error, and enabling martyrs to be faithful unto
death. It is a piece of an instrument of torture, and was used upon the
person of one detected reading that very Bible."
"Another school of thought, you see. Those worthies thought it
dangerous to allow the unlearned to read the Bible for themselves; then
came the pugnacious resolve to have it and keep it and understand it as
each man pleases; and presently you will be able to pave all our towns
with Bibles that nobody cares for!"
"If every good and right thing were to be set aside because some abuse
it and few know its real value, what would our civilization come to?"
said Guy. "But we are to remember that though the sower scattered his
seed over the wayside, among stones and thorns 'some fell into good
ground, and brought forth fruit.' So with our Bible: it is 'the word of
the kingdom,' and cannot return void, but must accomplish that which
God pleases, and prosper in the thing whereto He sends it."
"You have the advantage of me in your knowledge of it, I am bound to
confess," said the tutor.
"It is my 'school of thought,'" returned Guy; "it reveals the highest,
purest knowledge, and being the Word of the Living God, I must receive
it as I find it, neither adding to it nor taking from it, thereby
escaping the snares of both those 'schools' which by turns seem to have
caught your sympathies."
"I'm afraid there is no hope for me of the pastorate of Pine-wood End,"
said the stranger, smiling, "but perhaps I am better and shall take an
early opportunity to call and make my own impression at The Moat."
Which he did, and it was not a favourable one, notwithstanding some
fascination of manner, and much general information. He also visited
the Church, and after a long talk with Mr. Spadeley, left that
functionary in a perplexed meditation upon his probable or possible
creed.
"Well, well," thought the clerk and sexton, "it is said that extremes
do meet, but I'm fairly posed to know whether he be most Papist or most
unbeliever; but I hope our Master Guy ain't going to take up with him
nor his ways."
Then after sundry times scratching his head, and obtaining therefrom no
help to a conclusion, he added, mentally,—
"It's wonderful, it is, how he slips about like an eel, and when I
thought I'd caught him, he was through my fingers afore I knew it:
that's like what they call a Jesuit; then he sneered at a fine old text
that came nowhere but straight from the Lord Almighty: and that was
like what they call Infidel. So whether he be deep like the one, with
Satan to help him, or shallow like t'other, in the pride of his own
heart, he's a pitiful sight to see. He parson of Pine-wood End indeed!
Not while our good Squire is above ground, any way, and I'd as lief
bury the whole village, school-house and all, as let such a whirligig
set up to daze poor souls as he! The Lord have mercy on the young lad
that's got his tutoring."
"It is a curious 'school of thought,' that of Mr. Freakes," remarked
Squire Hazelwood. "I fear he is getting Sir Ryland to support 'The
Book of Sports,' and introduce Sunday games in the Park at N—. And the
bailiff declares he saw him and his pupil go into the Roman Catholic
Chapel in our county town. But I suppose it is no business of ours."
Mistress Hazelwood sat silent and thoughtful for some time, and then
looking up at her husband, "Dear Roger," she said, in lowly suggestive
tones, "should we not do unto others as we would they should do unto
us?"
"Surely we should, Dolly: what is on your mind?"
"We would like to be informed if we had a traitor in our house, and at
least test him for ourselves; and we should for our Master's honour,
and our people's welfare, desire to keep reverently the Lord's Day."
"Very true, dear wife; but what then? Would'st have me meddle with
other men's matters, and get into hot water with Sir Ryland, who seems
to care little what goes on in his name?"
"'If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his
cross, and follow me,'" said Dorothy Hazelwood, very softly. "'And
whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words—'"
"Dolly, that must not be. I will ascertain the truth of what I have
heard, first, and then ride over for a quiet talk with Sir Ryland. He
may perhaps take it kindly, seeing they are shooting and fishing in my
preserves without asking leave, and I have not complained; but if they
are poaching on my Masters' rights and defying His commands, why that's
another matter, and ought to be seen to."
But the tutor had succeeded in so far ingratiating himself with the
Baronet and his son as to secure a deaf ear to any suggestion of
distrust. The visit to the Romish chapel was "merely one of curiosity,"
though they had spent the day among priests, and joined in some
imposing ceremonies. The sports, too, in the Park were most innocent
and suitable, not interfering with anyone who preferred Sunday school,
and merely keeping young men and boys from lounging about the lanes.
Sir Ryland was very much obliged; was sure his neighbour's interest was
well meant; but considered himself quite able to judge of a tutor, and
take care of his own family.
"Well, my Lord fared no better—nay, much worse—for speaking the truth,"
thought the Squire, as he rode home somewhat discouraged, until greeted
by the warm earnest approval of his wife.
"Thou hast been faithful in little, and He in whose name you went, hath
hearkened and noted it, dear husband. 'In His favour is life,' and 'the
friendship of this world is enmity against Him.'"
The schools prospered, and the right agents were found, and Sir
Ryland's offer to join the Squire in building a handsome church
provided he might make the first presentation, was respectfully
declined; whereupon the Baronet talked of erecting one in his own
grounds to accommodate his own tenantry, and keep them from "the
narrow-minded" teaching at Pine-wood End. But happily for them, his
finances were not in the most flourishing condition, and Mr. Freakes
was not so much admired and trusted in the neighbourhood as he
considered due to his patronage and interest.
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