NAT'S COTTAGE.
"IT ought to be well done certainly, with three of us to accomplish
the business," said Mr. Prior, patting the pony's head as he began to
loosen the rein. "Unless indeed it were a case of 'too many cooks,'
Tyrrell."
"Dapple ain't the sort of 'broth' to be so easy spoilt, sir," said Nat,
with a laugh.
"I hope not. By the bye, Tyrrell—yes, you can tighten that strap a
little—did I not hear that you were thinking of changing your cottage
soon?"
"At quarter-day—yes, sir," said Nat, looking flattered at the interest
shown in his affairs. "You see, sir, the one we're in now, though
it's a neat place enough, is over small, and it's draughty and smoky
besides. So now I'm getting on a bit in the world, we thought we'd look
out for a better."
"You have not found one yet, I suppose?"
"Why, no, sir, and I'm not sure after all that I haven't been imprudent
in giving notice about this, before we'd some idea of a new one like to
suit us."
"Poor fellow—but of course you could not help that, though it was
unwise," said Mr. Prior compassionately.
Nat Tyrrell was not the only one present who stared with open eyes.
Mr. Prior looked back so calmly, however, that even Mrs. Prior began
to fancy she must have been mistaken, in thinking that her husband had
said anything extraordinary.
"I had an idea, now,—but of course it is not worth my while mentioning
it to you," said Mr. Prior thoughtfully.
"An idea about what, sir, if I might make bold to ask?" inquired Nat
Tyrrell, with curiosity.
"O merely an idea, not at all worth mentioning. Of course it could make
no possible difference in the end," said Mr. Prior, leading the pony
towards the carriage.
Nat followed, wondering what in the world had come over Mr. Prior, and
half disposed to fear it must be a case of sun-stroke.
"I'd be very glad of any advice, sir," he said, by way of testing the
soundness of Mr. Prior's mind.
"You are not looking out for a new cottage, of course," said Mr. Prior.
"Indeed, sir, but I am. You don't happen to know of one, do you, sir?"
asked Nat, with some eagerness.
"You do not really mean to say you are giving yourself any trouble
about the matter!" said Mr. Prior in a tone of astonishment.
"To be sure, I should just think I was too," said Nat rather
indignantly. "A pretty thing it would be, if we waited with our hands
before us till we found ourselves homeless."
Nat suddenly stopped and looked rather foolish, remembering the last
time he had used that expression. A faint idea of Mr. Prior's meaning
began to dawn upon his mind.
"So if you don't look out for another cottage, you think that may
probably be the result," said Mr. Prior.
"I don't see what else would be like to happen," Nat answered in a
subdued tone.
"True, but then, if it were so, it would have been fore-ordained by
God," said Mr. Prior. "And what is fore-ordained must come to pass."
Nat seemed at a loss what to reply.
"You see, Tyrrell, I am a firm believer in the doctrine of God's
foreknowledge and pre-ordering of events," continued Mr. Prior. "It
is told very plainly in the Bible—'He doeth according to His will in
the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth, and none
can stay His hand, or say unto Him, What doest Thou?' And again He
says, 'I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the
beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done.'"
"They're wonderful texts, sir. I don't know as I ever saw 'em before,"
said Nat thoughtfully.
"There are truths in them which cannot for a moment be set aside. Now,
looking upon the matter in that light, knowing that your future life
is, as it were, all marked out in the secret mind of God; how can I for
a moment suppose that 'you' have any freedom or choice as to your own
actions? How can I in common fairness blame you for doing that which
it has been fore-ordained from all eternity that you should do? I must
rather look upon you as the unhappy victim of circumstances, as a mere
puppet in the hands of a superior Power, with nothing more of praise or
blame attaching to anything you may do or think, than to the movements
of a hammer or saw in the hands of a workman. As for believing in
God's absolute power and fore-ordering of all things, and at the self
same time treating you as a reasonable creature, worthy of blame or
praise—why, looking upon the matter in a common-sense light, the thing
seems simply impossible."
Nat fidgeted uneasily, but did not speak.
"You were saying just now that you had given notice to your landlord
rather early," Mr. Prior went on. "It sounds imprudent, to be sure.
But then, poor fellow, no one can dream of laying blame upon you. For
it was all fore-ordained that you should give notice upon just that
particular day; and if it was to be, how could you help it? How could
you possibly have acted otherwise?"
Nat's bronzed cheek took a deeper hue than its wont. "Well, sir, you
have me there for certain!" he said frankly.
"You say you are looking out for a cottage," continued Mr. Prior, in
the same deliberate manner. "And it did occur to me that I knew of one
which might just suit you."
"No! Do you, sir?"
"But I have decided that it would be quite useless trouble on my part
to mention particulars. For if that identical cottage is pre-ordained
to be your home, it will be your home, whether I tell you about it or
no. And if it is not pre-ordained to be your home, then no words of
mine or efforts of yours can make it so. Whatever the result may be,
one thing is clear, and that is that nobody can be blamed."
"But, sir,—" Nat began, and paused.
"So you see it is a very simple matter, Tyrrell, looking upon it in
this light. If a chosen home awaits you, that home will in time become
yours. If you don't look out for one, and find yourself brought down to
sleeping in the open air, why, it will no doubt be something of a trial
to you and your family, but you must comfort yourself with the thought
that all things are pre-ordained by God, and that you,—not being a
responsible creature,—can be justly blamed by no one."
"Don't seem to me as that 'ud be much of a consolation neither," said
Nat, rather humbly. "Please, sir, if you wouldn't mind after all
telling me about that there cottage—"
"It is a very nice cottage," said Mr. Prior. "A particularly nice one,
Tyrrell. I do most sincerely hope, for your sake, that it may prove to
be your pre-ordained future home. I should advise you on your return
this evening to sit quietly down, with your hands before you, and
patiently await the opening out of events, through which in the course
of time you will learn exactly what is to happen to you."
"I beg your pardon, sir, but I think I'd be better satisfied, and not
such a fool neither, if I was to see the landlord, and set the matter
going,—if you'd be so very good, sir, as to tell me where that cottage
is," added Nat, growing beseeching.
"Come, now, we will make an agreement. If you will do one thing for me,
I will tell you what you wish."
"Anything, sir," said Nat eagerly.
"I would not promise rashly, if I were you. Of course you fully
believe, Tyrrell, that all things are fore-ordained by God?"
"Seems clear enough in the Bible about that, sir, any way," said
Tyrrell.
"And that every event of your future life is in His hands,—that He
arranges matters, and moves the hearts of men, according to His divine
will,—that you cannot take one step or lift one finger, unless He gives
you power,—that nothing in heaven or earth can come about without His
permission!"
"'Tis all true," Tyrrell answered.
"And yet you seem to think that you have some sort of voice in the
matter,—that you have a certain freedom of will and a certain liberty
of action,—that events may be brought about by yourself,—that you might
be fairly blamed and might justly suffer, from refusing to take certain
steps which appear to you wise and right."
Tyrrell nodded silently.
"Then, Tyrrell, there lie two great and wonderful truths side by side.
Will you kindly reconcile them for me? Please to explain to me in clear
terms, by the light of reason and common-sense, exactly how they both
exist, and how they work. If you can reach to the bottom of this deep
mystery of God, which no living man has ever yet fathomed, you shall
command me to do what you will about the cottage, or any other earthly
matter."
"I'll have to wait long enough for the cottage, if that has to come
between," said Nat, in a low voice. "Sir, I never did see the matter in
that light before, I must confess."
"Nor I neither," said Blayney.
"No, because in every-day practical matters, you put aside theory and
attend to fact. You 'know' God's power to be boundless, and you pray
Him to guide you in your way, and He guides you. You 'feel' you are
free to act, and you act. You don't trouble your head with trying to
settle exactly how far your own freedom in action may reach, or how far
God chooses directly to control your mind and the minds of those about
you. But when you touch upon the question of salvation, you must needs
perplex your brains by trying to understand what can't be understood,
and struggling to reconcile truths which God has not given us power to
reconcile, till you end by putting reason in the place of faith, and
working yourselves into a perfect maze. It is dangerous work, men."
"Well, sir, I believe you're about right," said Tyrrell soberly. "Maybe
I've been rash in things I've said."
"As most men are who attempt to get to the bottom of these questions.
It is like a bather who cannot swim, getting out of his depth in the
sea. We are mere children, looking upon the outside crust of God's
great universe. But mystery lies beyond wherever we turn, and deep
as men fancy themselves able to dig, they still only end in mystery.
As for saying we won't believe God's truths, just because we cannot
understand them, that is simply and childishly absurd."
"But a great many deep thinkers do doubt," said Mona involuntarily.
"And a much greater number of shallow ones. The truth is, all these
questionings are just going off from the simplicity of the Word. God's
linked commands and promises are very easy to understand. 'Believe,
and thou shalt be saved.' 'Ask, and ye shall receive.' It is perfectly
true that you cannot act, or will to act, without grace from above.
Nevertheless 'act'—don't lie helplessly on the ground—only act, ask,
believe, and safety is yours."
"'Tis hard to have to make up one's mind one can't understand things,"
said Nat.
"May be so—to the 'pride of human intellect,' of which we hear so much
in the present day. But the greatest minds are those which bow most
meekly before the Word of God, and feel most deeply their own utter
littleness. There is nothing for these matters but simple trust."
"Then you'd just have us shut our eyes to such difficulties in the
Bible, sir," said Nat.
"No, certainly not. I would have you neither shut your eyes to them,
nor shuffle over them in alarm, nor believe one side to the exclusion
of the other, nor stake your faith upon the power of man to reconcile
them. Don't be afraid to look the matter in the face, and to confess
frankly that there are many things which you can't understand, and
never will understand in this life. Only make a firm stand upon the
justice, and holiness, and love of God, take each revealed truth as God
has given it to you, let it lie alone where God has placed it; and be
content to believe where you cannot see, waiting till fuller sight is
given to you. For a time will come—and to all of us I trust—when our
training as children will be over, and these perplexities shall pass
away, like mist on the mountain-side, in the glorious light of our
Saviour's unveiled presence."
Then after a short grave silence, Mr. Prior said cheerfully—
"And now, Tyrrell, I am ready to give you all the information in my
power, about the cottage I have seen."
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