AN EXAMINATION.
The acquaintance between the draper and the gate-keeper rapidly
ripened into friendship. Very generally, as soon as he had shut his
shop, Drew would walk to the park-gate to see Polwarth; and three
times a week at least, the curate made one of the party. Much was
then talked, more was thought, and I venture to say, more yet was
understood.
One evening the curate went earlier than usual, and had tea with the
Polwarths.
"Do you remember," he asked of his host, "once putting to me the
question what our Lord came into this world for?"
"I do," answered Polwarth.
"And you remember I answered you wrong: I said it was to save the
world."
"I do. But remember, I said _primarily_, for of course he did come
to save the world."
"Yes, just so you put it. Well, I think I can answer the question
correctly now, and in learning the true answer I have learned much.
Did he not come first of all to do the will of his Father? Was not
his Father first with him always and in everything--his fellow-men
next--for they were his Father's?"
"I need not say it--you know that you are right. Jesus is tenfold a
real person to you--is he not--since you discovered that truth?"
"I think so; I hope so. It does seem as if a grand simple reality
had begun to dawn upon me out of the fog--the form as of a man pure
and simple, _because_ the eternal son of the Father."
"And now, may I not ask--are you able to accept the miracles, things
in themselves so improbable?"
"If we suppose the question settled as to whether the man was what
he said, then all that remains is to ask whether the works reported
of him are consistent with what you can see of the character of the
man."
"And to you they seem--?"
"Some consistent, others not. Concerning the latter I look for more
light."
"Meantime let me ask you a question about them. What was the main
object of miracles?"
"One thing at least I have learned, Mr. Polwarth and that is, not to
answer any question of yours in a hurry," said Wingfold. "I will, if
you please, take this one home with me, and hold the light to it."
"Do," said Polwarth, "and you will find it return you the light
threefold.--One word more, ere Mr. Drew comes: do you still think of
giving up your curacy?"
"I have almost forgotten I ever thought of such a thing. Whatever
energies I may or may not have, I know one thing for certain, that I
could not devote them to anything else I should think entirely worth
doing. Indeed nothing else seems interesting enough--nothing to
repay the labour, but the telling of my fellow-men about the one man
who is the truth, and to know whom is the life. Even if there be no
hereafter, I would live my time believing in a grand thing that
ought to be true if it is not. No facts can take the place of
truths, and if these be not truths, then is the loftiest part of our
nature a waste. Let me hold by the better than the actual, and fall
into nothingness off the same precipice with Jesus and John and Paul
and a thousand more, who were lovely in their lives, and with their
death make even the nothingness into which they have passed like the
garden of the Lord. I will go further, Polwarth, and say, I would
rather die for evermore believing as Jesus believed, than live for
evermore believing as those that deny him. If there be no God, I
feel assured that existence is and could be but a chaos of
contradictions, whence can emerge nothing worthy to be called a
truth, nothing worth living for.--No, I will not give up my curacy.
I will teach that which IS good, even if there should be no God to
make a fact of it, and I will spend my life on it, in the growing
hope, which MAY become assurance, that there is indeed a perfect
God, worthy of being the Father of Jesus Christ, and that it was
BECAUSE they are true, that these things were lovely to me and to so
many men and women, of whom some have died for them, and some would
be yet ready to die."
"I thank my God to hear you say so. Nor will you stand still there,"
said Polwarth. "But here comes Mr. Drew!"