whole world he couldn’t lock the door on those Philippine friars,
when they had been caught interfering with the Government.”
“Don’t mix politics and religion with metaphysics!” exclaimed Adele,
greatly amused, but beginning to feel interested in the serio-comic
discussion. “Please don’t--it’s bad form.”
“I won’t, daughter. I was only thinking, thinking how astute St.
Peter was to find it out before The Hague conference told him so.
I rather liked that in Peter, because Paul generally showed more
intellect in the long run. Peter probably was the better manager, but
I suspect Paul had more--more--Oh, what shall I call it?”
“Metaphysics?” suggested Frank Winchester, struggling to conceal
intense amusement.
Mrs. Geyser, in the meantime, was not the sort of person to remain
“sat upon,” as she thought, “in this outrageous manner.” Her own
mental ebullitions began to demand utterance, but she managed to
suppress external evidence. Nevertheless the cause she represented
must be defended. Yes; in spite of Paul, Apollos, Cephas, Mrs. Cephas
and Miss Cephas, the truth must prevail. She must witness to show how
it could and would. She must tell how the greatest thing on earth
should be applied as medicine. Sincerity called for strenuosity, the
fundamental element in “our religion” must be made known, preached,
and she did so, thusly:
“The maintenance of health and cure of disease occupy a large space
in the religious faith of our society. Love is the greatest thing
on earth, the fundamental thing with us. Love conquers all things,
headache and neuralgia, backache and lumbago, all included, annual
and perennial, the whole list, non-chronic and chronic. To apply
religion scientifically we first fix truth and love steadfastly in
the patient’s thoughts and explain what religious science is, but not
too soon, not until the patient is prepared for it;” and then Mrs.
Geyser continued to elucidate her method, incidentally remarking that
medicine was never needed, not even for babies, not even in the mild
form of a preparatory mixture. Frank Winchester recalled to memory
the recent preparatory mental dose given by the Doctor to Mr. Onset,
but said nothing. Adele, recently graduated, could not avoid asking
the question:
“Have you a diploma?”
A very dignified attitude struck Mrs. Geyser in the small of
her back when Adele innocently propounded this touchy question.
She straightened up to reply. “Our diplomas are attested by the
supernatural powers we exert. I deny that natural causes can account
for our proceedings, I mean our results.”
“It looks just that way,” remarked Mrs. Cultus, while Mrs. Geyser
continued:
“But to comply with the laws of the land and render unto Cæsar
the things that are his I did take a course at our Metaphysical
College--twelve half-days’ instruction at three hundred dollars
for the course. Ample, I assure you, to satisfy any materialistic
law-maker, and quite as expensive as many other colleges.” After
this incidental announcement Mrs. Geyser seemed ready to resume the
practice of her profession as teacher, but Adele, by this time, did
not seem inclined to let it be done so easily. Evidently a climax was
approaching in Adele’s own mind as to the duty of graduates.
“I notice, Mrs. Geyser, that you lay great stress upon cures.”
“Yes, they bear witness to the truth in our religious-science.”
“Do you keep any account of failures?”
“None whatever.”
“Then you notice what suits you and ignore the rest. Is that truth in
science?”
“Failures do not depend upon phenomena or cases.”
“Then upon what?” inquired Adele, intensely interested.
“Failures depend upon the Divine Word.”
A pause--Adele as one astounded at what she considered the fearful
abuse of both thoughts and words in Mrs. Geyser’s statements.
No doubt Mrs. G. imagined she was protecting her faith and religion
by this placing of blame for failure upon the Spirit of Truth in the
Divine Word, as if Truth itself could ever be a delusion, a fallacy,
a failure; but, unfortunately, or fortunately perhaps, Adele Cultus
grasped the fuller import of such assertions--so abusive of facts in
nature scientific and philosophical, so diametrically in opposition,
or else ignoring Christ’s especial teaching by word and work. Such
was Adele’s point of view.
To Adele this was utterly illogical, antagonistic to truth as
she saw it. Such an atrocious conception from one who had just
been talking about love, the greatest thing on earth, struck
through Adele like an electric shock, and, as usual with her, the
spiritual dominant. She was also outwardly calm, but mentally that
violent tension which comes with strenuous effort to find the
truest utterance. The horrible words again sounded in her ears:
“Failures--depend--upon----”
“Mrs. Geyser, to the Divine Word let us appeal. The record states
that our Saviour did depend upon the phenomena to sustain his claims,
‘Believe me for the very works’ sake,’ and He never failed. When
science, some day, progresses to the standpoint of our Saviour’s
knowledge and practice we too may understand the application of
natural laws as He did. What is the so-called supernatural? Merely
that which science has not yet explained: miracles to-day are not
miracles to-morrow.”
All attention was now focused upon Adele, her eyes flashing as they
often had done when tackling a difficult problem at college. Her
mentality was concentrated. Mrs. Cultus thought she “looked like
Portia” when she continued:
“Our Heavenly Father wrote the Divine Word in all things. Science and
religion must agree. They have the same Author.”
Now if Adele had only stopped at this point and by silence let the
truth further speak for itself in the heart, much of what followed
would have been avoided. But youth is impulsive in method and often
abuses strenuosity by becoming indiscreet. Her youth led her to
jump at a conclusion embodying personal reference, which of course
broke away from the direct route to assurance of faith by spiritual
discernment of actual facts. The bane of both science and religion
came nearer wrecking the truthful impression already germinated in
Mrs. Geyser’s consciousness.
“You are a religious thaumaturgist, Mrs. Geyser--a dealer in
wonder-work. Your results are not real miracles, because you have
failures and abuse truthful words. Having failures when you attempt
to heal, you can’t possibly be apostles of the truly ordained
religious and scientific type.”
Quick as a flash, Mrs. Geyser spoke the historic truth:
“Christ’s Apostles did have failures. Your remarks have no force.”
Adele also quick as a flash:
“Precisely so! which shows the real difference between them and Him.
In every instance when they did fail He called them a faithless and
perverse generation. Do you know why, Mrs. Geyser?”
Mrs. Geyser refused to reply.
“Because they neglected well known means, considered scientific in
those days, and so recognized yet by reasonable people. The Apostles
neglected to employ prayer and fasting, that is to say, proper mental
and physical treatment. They had not adequately examined the case
themselves, conscientiously nor in a prayerful spirit, nor given the
proper medicine already known to be useful in such cases. Our Saviour
always applied common sense to his physical and spiritual healing and
had no failures.” Then she added mentally, “He does it yet.”
Mrs. Geyser had never before heard the historic Christ spoken of as a
physician of the regular school, which eventually resulted in modern
practice. She had always thought of Him as an Oriental Healer with no
pretence to manifesting cures by reasonable specific methods, such
as have since been learned by the Holy Spirit of Truth in medicine,
psychology, and the science of religion; by the Spirit which is Holy,
which Christ promised He would send. She had often said that the
Scriptures gave no direct interpretation of the scientific basis for
demonstrating until the new key was discovered. In fact, Mrs. Geyser
was herself very mediæval in her notions of what Christ’s personality
stands for as enlightenment, the Holy Spirit of Truth in all things,
the Light of the World.
Therefore what Adele asserted made little real impression other
than antagonism, not as yet, not until Adele, more roused than ever,
continued:
“No record of failures is shirking responsibility, and personal
responsibility is one of the truest things in any religion worthy of
the name. Denial of dependence upon phenomena is a false position,
totally unlike our Saviour. It is a pseudo-Christianity, and it is
rank pseudo-science to quote in the same breath only those phenomena
which you think will suit your purpose.” She was going on to add
“preposterous abuse of the Divine Word,” when her mother beckoned
her to be less extreme and impulsive. Her youth therefore satisfied
itself by turning the personal allusions half-way round towards
herself: “I think your position is preposterous, Mrs. Geyser, and
your science an imposition upon the public.”
Adele regretted her words almost as soon as uttered, but too late; an
eruption imminent, it must come.
Mrs. Geyser, the mystic, had been in a suppressed condition, but
the mental-effervescence was approaching nearer and nearer to
the surface. Personalities which she often applied to others she
could not stand when turned towards herself--they acted still more
potently; in effect not unlike that of soap-suds upon the water
volcanoes of her native region, temporary suppression followed by
ebullitions worse than usual. She could no longer sit still, so she
rose to her feet, without fear but with much trembling, and gave vent
to a torrent of expostulations, hurling her words at Adele as if to
deluge her with facts.
“You don’t pretend to say there have been no cures by faith?”
“I do not,” said Adele firmly, “but----”
“But what, young miss? Can you deny facts in life? Facts! facts as
well authenticated as the New Testament itself!”
“I neither deny facts in nature nor the testimony of honest
witnesses, but----”
“Cures which the Founder of Christianity promised His followers they
should perform!” cried the Geyser, still more excited.
Adele’s indignation at this became irresistible, neither could she
stand it; and the result?
A remarkable thing yet perfectly natural, phenomenon well known to
both religion and science, a sudden intense appreciation that “the
letter killeth but the Spirit giveth life,” affecting her whole
personality, physical, mental, spiritual.
Adele’s ideal became realized in her own person.
The psychological influence of that which is Holy became manifest.
She became, as it were, the personification of that which she
believed to be true. Sober enthusiasm and convictions, both
scientific and religious, came to her rescue.
She spoke, but with a revulsion in manner, quietly, slowly, each
sentence distinct, and her words were the truth in soberness, moral
courage and reason at its best, the Holy Spirit over all:
“Pardon me, Mrs. Geyser. I am really very sorry I offended you.”
Then, after a little pause, “I can’t express all that I feel and
would like to say; but it seems to me our Saviour was always
reasonable. He never did imply what is unreasonable, no matter what
marvels and mysteries He may have revealed to enlighten further.
It seems to me nature has ever since witnessed to His wonderful
obedience to her laws and His profound knowledge of the Divine Word
wherever written in nature, physical or spiritual. He came not to
destroy but to fulfil laws in nature, and this in spite of all that
has ever been said of Him to the contrary.”
All were now absorbed, blending their own spiritual experience with
hers as Adele continued:
“Now in religion the claims you make demand a marvellous thing in
nature, a marvel indeed, quite unreasonable to expect in the brighter
light of known truths,” and she rested her eyes calmly on Mrs.
Geyser, she too having become quieter under the better influences at
work.
“A marvel, indeed, Mrs. Geyser, no less than the actual presence of a
perfect human being.”
Mrs. Geyser repeated the words, musing self-consciously, “A perfect
human being!”
“Yes, indeed,” continued Adele. “Taking things as they are, as the
truth in science has already taught us, the performance of cures by
the means you attempt would demand perfection in both knowledge and
technic--one who knows and one who does to perfection--a perfect man.
Of course I must mean perfect in reason, reasonably perfect as nature
manifests truth, at the period when the man lives.”
“What do you mean by perfection?” asked Mrs. Geyser, evidently
sincere. “I don’t quite understand what you mean by that sort of
high-flown talk.” This was only too true, for Mrs. Geyser, with all
her pretence to metaphysics, had never formulated a definition of
that word “perfection;” she knew little and perceived less in that
very mode of thought to which she made claim as an expert.
Adele’s youthful eyes certainly did show a human-nature-twinkle when
thus called upon to define what should have been elementary to Mrs.
Geyser if an expert; and so very important to remember when “perfect
cures” were claimed in spite of the known imperfections of all other
systems of treatment. Adele never appreciated her college training
more than when she found that she could use the knowledge thus
obtained in reasoning with Mrs. Geyser.
“Well, in metaphysics as well as other studies, perfection is
something like this: it is not only ‘finished in every part,
completed,’ but much more, it is ‘whole, entire, existing in the
widest extent, and in the highest degree--in spiritual relations
_divine_ in character and quality.’ You surely believe this, Mrs.
Geyser!”
Mrs. Geyser made a heroic mental effort to grasp this statement and
answer the question; Adele tried to help her, anxious to share the
very best of her own mental conclusions, her own spirit dominated by
the Spirit that is Holy, to help others and not antagonize.
“Now to me the two words, perfection and divinity, are precisely the
same in significance in relation to our present discussion, and they
both touch the very highest point in reason, the acme of reason. We
cannot go higher than that, can we, Mrs. Geyser?”
Mrs. Geyser acknowledged it was “pretty well up.”
Adele, properly gauging the calibre of her patient by this remark,
repeated the idea:
“No, I can think of nothing higher than perfection and what it
implies. No, not in physics, metaphysics, nor religion. Can you, Mrs.
Geyser?”
The listener seemed somewhat confused, but sincerely anxious to
learn. Adele continued:
“Religion and Philosophy both teach me that Divinity alone manifests
Perfection to the extent your claims call for. No doubt you have
examined into the matter thoroughly, Mrs. Geyser. May I ask what your
key says on the subject?”
The matronly Mrs. Geyser, ever self-conscious, yet trying to be
sincere, immediately directed her thoughts inwardly, to a sort of
self-examination which her system was apt to call for in such cases;
a system of self-examination very peculiar in its operation, as if
trying to detect how-much-of-perfection she had within herself to
be depended upon to influence or exert the Supreme Power to perfect
cures. If anybody ever did try to work out her own salvation (cure
herself) by means of complicated theories distorting good intentions,
it was this earnest woman, misguided by a mist of words applied to
the veritable mysteries in nature, a mystical abuse of the unseen
truths so well recognized by all truth-seekers as mysterious. Thou
canst not tell whence it cometh nor whither it goeth. Mrs. Geyser
seemed worried, but in no way daunted; rather troubled because she
could not state her own case as she thought it should be stated. Very
like a matron indeed, with an enormous bunch of keys at her side, not
one of which would fit.
Adele, also uneasy lest she had not shown that kindness and
consideration in manner and tone for one older than herself, which
the case called for--a case in which the Perfect Spirit alone, the
Holy Spirit of Truth in Love, can do the “perfect work.”
Adele felt this deeply. “What shall I do now? Talk on? No; no more
talk. I hate this rumpus, hate it! but must do something. Never again
will I be caught in such a discussion and controversy. Never! but I
must do something. Poor soul, she can’t even see what she can see.
I wish I could see for her,” and Adele cast her eyes about, as if
looking for inspiration in the surrounding objects.
A book lay upon Miss Winchester’s lap. She had been using it at the
piano in the salon. The title caught Adele’s eye. “Songs Without
Words,” the musical association with the title she well knew, but
now, what?
Her active mind, trained to work by association of ideas, and her
spiritual faculties longing to determine what to do then and there,
the two worked together. If the beautiful art of music she loved so
well could speak without words through the ear, why, surely there
must be a way to speak by--by----
She left her chair, crossed over to where Mrs. Geyser sat, and held
out a friendly hand, her attitude the reverse of antagonistic, her
eyes speaking the meekness which is always followed by the promised
reward. There was no mistake as to the words uttered by those lovely
eyes, they asked first for peace, peace first, then hope, then
charity, showing that meekness which inherits the earth. Herself
illumined by that wonderful light that never was by sea or land, but
sometimes is reflected on the human face.
XV
TWO SIMULTANEOUS SOLILOQUIES
The countenance of Mrs. Cultus after this trying scene was a study in
itself. She was attempting to understand her own daughter. Worldly
wisdom was well developed in Mrs. Cultus, and it was fortunate for
Adele that her mother had suppressed dangerous personalities early
in the interview, else the result would have been permanently bad
instead of what it proved to be. Much of what Adele said Mrs. Cultus
had fully appreciated, but not all; not when her daughter began
talking of what constituted perfection, and the consequences. Then
worldly wisdom failed, and the mother regarded her daughter with
amazement.
“The child! What does she know of metaphysics? Yet she talked as
if she knew all about it as well as she knows her own classmates.
She must have studied both religion and science at college. I don’t
wonder they made her valedictorian of her class, to get in the last
word. She is just like her father, intellectual, and I certainly
was with her when she became angry with that woman for not giving
medicine to sick babies. Extraordinary, isn’t it, how some people
can crowd out their natural instincts for an idea--it is not safe
to live, not with such notions. What new-fangled medical schools
without medicine are being propagated! Here are two new ones on board
this ship--even in mid-ocean there’s no getting rid of them. Well,
I’m rejoiced that Adele has not been educated out of her natural
instincts. It is so much safer to be orthodox about such things, and
take medicine; and these fads, why, never bother with fads except
for amusement. Now that telepathic reading we had one night at home
was almost as good as the other evening with hypnotics, both were so
diverting. But, oh! deliver me from these new sciences. Now I mustn’t
forget; I must tell Adele how much I admired her standing up for
old-fashioned medicine and orthodoxy in religion.”
Thus soliloquized Mrs. Cultus in her state-room, while a door,
slamming every ten seconds in the passageway, somewhat interfered
with the continuity of her thoughts.
There was yet another of the party whose estimation of Adele rose
immensely. Paul Warder had overheard the discussion; it gave him an
insight as to Adele’s character which he would have been a long time
discovering, and he felt strengthened himself by the thoughts she had
expressed. Paul was not given to ostentation in religious matters any
more than Adele herself, nor did he feel quite able to discuss such
things even if opportunity offered. He was not so constituted, either
by heredity or education. His antecedents had been of good Quaker
stock, his own affiliations with churchmen, his daily associations
with Doctor Wise, from whom he had heard views almost to the verge of
heterodoxy.
Paul kept his own counsel and, like Adele, preferred to show by
acts rather than words what his principles were. He and Adele were
physically and mentally different, but spiritually not at all unlike.
Without appreciating it themselves at this time they already embodied
that potent yet mysterious combination in nature which affords the
most solid, durable foundation for true friendship, the secure and
real basis upon which marriage should stand. To hear Adele speak her
mind freely, as she did, was a new experience to Paul, an insight
which from its very nature forced him to think about her. It was
one of these incidents in his own life he could never forget, never
forget her nor what she had said.
Paul’s vernacular when he soliloquized was not so Emersonian as
it might have been; if it lacked anything it certainly was even a
suspicion of transcendentalism. No; Paul had a vernacular of his own,
equally characteristic and, from his own point of view, even more
forcible. He still retained some of his college idioms when talking
aloud to the bed-post, and there was in them a peculiar virility.
When he found himself alone after this new experience his youth
effervesced in this style:
“By Jove, what a girl! No nonsense there! And she was right, too; O.
K. every time. How she did pick out the flaws in that queer woman’s
racket. I could see that it was absurd myself, but I never could
have spotted the thing as Adele did and then finally smoothed things
down so well. She must be an awfully good girl. I wonder if a man
can ever be as good as a woman. And these college girls get on to
things we fellows never grasp by the right end, and then they put
them in practice, too. I detest women preachers, but, hang it! I
believe Adele Cultus could preach first-rate if she wished. I hope
she won’t get into the habit, but it is a deuced good thing to be
able to say exactly what you really think when occasion arises. By
Jove, she is a stunner! Take care, old boy, and don’t fall in love
with a strong-minded girl, whatever you do. I never heard her talk so
before, and if it had not been for the provocation given her by that
crank and the preposterous statements she made about all-metaphysics
and no-medicine Adele would never have been roused. No, it was not
that either which aroused her--it was the abuse of the serious words
and what Adele saw differently that roused her. No, that was not
uncalled-for interference, but a regular spontaneous stand-up for
the truth as she saw it. But she must have gone over it somehow
beforehand, in her mind. We fellows always have to peg over such
things, or get the exact words from books, so we can be sure of our
ground. I expect she has a good verbal memory; I wish I had. Science,
religion, and metaphysics all mixed up in the same breath. I believe
she’s right, metaphysics and religion do go together in brain work,
but it’s very dangerous ground for weak minds. Great Scott! when a
bright girl does use her intellect how attractive she can be, and a
fellow can’t help seeing and feeling how lovely she is.”
Why should Paul have been so moved? He had just learned something
well worth knowing of a truly good woman whose intellect worked
comprehensively, not in grooves; one who really knew more than he
did on certain lines, and had the courage of her convictions, the
convictions being precisely what he himself most highly approved,
instinctively and by education. His youth did the rest.