Beulah - Page 211/348

"And further, by these, my son, be admonished; of making many books

there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh. Let us

hear the conclusion of the whole matter. Fear God, and keep his

commandments, for this is the whole duty of man."

To the discourse which followed Beulah listened with the deepest

interest. She followed the speaker over the desert of ancient

Oriental systems, which he rapidly analyzed, and held up as empty

shells; lifting the veil of soufism, he glanced at the mystical

creed of Algazzali; and, in an epitomized account of the Grecian

schools of philosophy, depicted the wild vagaries into which many

had wandered, and the unsatisfactory results to which all had

attained. Not content with these instances of the insufficiency and

mocking nature of human wisdom and learning, he adverted to the

destructive tendency of the Helvetian and D'Holbach systems, and,

after a brief discussion of their ruinous tenets, dilated, with some

erudition upon the conflicting and dangerous theories propounded by

Germany. Then came the contemplation of Christianity, from it's rise

among the fishermen of Galilee to its present summit of power. For

eighteen hundred years it had been assaulted by infidelity, yet each

century saw it advancing--a conquering colossus. Throughout the

sermon the idea was maintained that human reason was utterly

inadequate to discover to man his destiny, that human learning was a

great cheat, and that only from the pages of Holy Writ could genuine

wisdom be acquired. Men were to be as little children in order to be

taught the truths of immortality. Certainly the reasoning was clear

and forcible, the philosophic allusions seemed very apropos, and the

language was elegant and impassioned. The closing hymn was sung; the

organ hushed its worshiping tones; the benediction was pronounced;

the congregation dispersed.

As Beulah descended the steps she found Pauline and Mrs. Lockhart

waiting at the carriage for her. The latter greeted her with quite a

show of cordiality; but the orphan shrank back from the offered

kiss, and merely touched the extended hand. She had not forgotten

the taunts and unkindness of other days; and, though not vindictive,

she could not feign oblivion of the past, nor assume a friendly

manner foreign to her. She took her seat in the carriage, and found

it rather difficult to withdraw her fascinated eyes from Pauline's

lovely face. She knew what was expected of her, however; and said,

as they drove rapidly homeward: "Mr. Mortimor seems to be a man of more than ordinary erudition."

"Did you like his sermon? Do you like him?" asked Pauline eagerly.