Beulah - Page 203/348

Beulah looked up in unfeigned astonishment.

"You certainly are not what is termed skeptical?"

"Most sincerely do I wish that I was not."

There was a short silence, broken by Beulah's saying, slowly and

sorrowfully: "You cannot aid me, then!"

"I am afraid not. When a young man I was thoroughly skeptical in my

religious views (if I may be said to have had any). At the time of

my marriage I was an infidel, and such the world still calls me. If

I am not now, it is because my wife's unpretending consistent piety

has taught me to revere the precepts of a revelation which I long

ago rejected. Her pure religion makes me respect Christianity, which

once I sneered at. I am forced to acknowledge the happy results of

her faith, and I may yet be brought to yield up old prejudices and

confess its divine origin. I am no atheist, thank God! never have

been. But I tell you candidly, my doubts concerning the Bible make

me an unsafe guide for a mind like yours. For some time I have

marked the course of your reading, by the books I missed from my

shelves, and have feared just what has happened. On one point my

experience may be of value to you. What is comprised under the head

of philosophical research will never aid or satisfy you. I am an old

man, Beulah, and have studied philosophic works for many years; but,

take my word for it, the mass of them are sheer humbug. From the

beginning of the world philosophers have been investigating the

countless mysteries which present themselves to every earnest mind;

but the arcana are as inscrutable now as ever. I do not wish to

discourage you, Beulah; nor do I desire to underrate human

capabilities; but, in all candor, this kind of study does not pay.

It has not repaid me--it has not satisfied Hartwell, who went deeper

into metaphysics than anyone I know, and who now has less belief of

any sort than anyone I ever wish to know. I would not advise you to

prosecute this branch of study. I am content to acknowledge that of

many things I know nothing, and never can be any wiser; but Guy

Hartwell is too proud to admit his incapacity to grapple with some

of these mysteries. Beulah, my wife is one of the happiest spirits I

ever knew; she is a consistent Christian. When we were married, I

watched her very closely. I tell you, child, I hoped very much that

I should find some glaring incongruity in her conduct which would

have sanctioned my skepticism. I was continually on the lookout for

defects of character that might cast contempt on the religion she

professed. I did not expect her to prove so pure-hearted,

unselfish, humble, and genuinely pious as I found her. I do most

sincerely revere such religion as hers. Ah! if it were not so rare I

should never have been so skeptical. She has taught me that the

precepts of the Bible do regulate the heart and purify the life; and

to you, child, I will say, candidly, 'Almost she has persuaded me to

be a Christian.' Whatever of--"