"I don't want to believe that, sir. I will not believe it. What was
my reason given to me for? Was this spirit of inquiry after truth
only awakened in my soul to mock me with a sense of my nothingness?
Why did my Maker imbue me with an insatiable thirst for knowledge?
Knowledge of the deep things of philosophy, the hidden wonders of
the universe, the awful mysteries of the shadowy spirit realm? Oh,
there are analogies pervading all departments! There is physical
hunger to goad to exertions which will satisfy its demands, and most
tonics are bitter; so, bitter struggles develop and strengthen the
soul, even as hard study invigorates the mind and numerous sorrows
chasten the heart. There is truth for the earnest seeker somewhere--
somewhere! If I live a thousand years I will toil after it till I
find it. If, as you believe, death is annihilation, then will I make
the most of my soul while I have it. Oh, sir, what is life for?
Merely to eat and drink, to sleep and be clothed? Is it to be only a
constant effort to keep soul and body together? If I thought so I
would rather go back to nothingness this day--this hour! No, no! My
name bids me press on; there is a land of Beulah somewhere for my
troubled spirit. Oh, I will go back to my humble home, and study on,
unguided, unassisted even as I have begun. I cannot rest on your
rock of negation."
She could not control her trembling voice, and tears of bitter
disappointment fell over her pale, fixed features. A melancholy
smile parted Dr. Hartwell's lips, and, smoothing the bands of
rippling hair which lay on her white brow, he answered in his own
thrilling, musical accents: "Child, you are wasting your energies in vain endeavors to build up
walls of foam that--"
"Sir, I am no longer a child! I am a woman, and--"
"Yes, my little Beulah, and your woman's heart will not be satisfied
long with these dim abstractions, which now you chase so eagerly.
Mark me, there surely comes a time when you will loathe the bare
name of metaphysics. You are making a very hotbed of your intellect,
while you heart is daily becoming a dreary desert. Take care, lest
the starvation be so complete that eventually you will be unable to
reclaim it. Dialectics answer very well in collegiate halls, but
will not content you. Remember 'Argemone.'"
"She is a miserable libel on woman's nature and intellect. I scorn
the attempted parallel!" answered Beulah indignantly.