Clara Hopgood - Page 97/105

'No!' Baruch thought she referred to her child, and he was silent.

'You are a philosopher,' said Madge, after a pause. 'Have you never

discovered anything which will enable us to submit to be useless?'

'That is to say, have I discovered a religion? for the core of

religion is the relationship of the individual to the whole, the

faith that the poorest and meanest of us is a person. That is the

real strength of all religions.'

'Well, go on; what do you believe?'

'I can only say it like a creed; I have no demonstration, at least

none such as I would venture to put into words. Perhaps the highest

of all truths is incapable of demonstration and can only be stated.

Perhaps, also, the statement, at least to some of us, is a sufficient

demonstration. I believe that inability to imagine a thing is not a

reason for its non-existence. If the infinite is a conclusion which

is forced upon me, the fact that I cannot picture it does not

disprove it. I believe, also, in thought and the soul, and it is

nothing to me that I cannot explain them by attributes belonging to

body. That being so, the difficulties which arise from the perpetual

and unconscious confusion of the qualities of thought and soul with

those of body disappear. Our imagination represents to itself souls

like pebbles, and asks itself what count can be kept of a million,

but number in such a case is inapplicable. I believe that all

thought is a manifestation of the Being, who is One, whom you may

call God if you like, and that, as It never was created, It will

never be destroyed.'

'But,' said Madge, interrupting him, 'although you began by warning

me not to expect that you would prove anything, you can tell me

whether you have any kind of basis for what you say, or whether it is

all a dream.' 'You will be surprised, perhaps, to hear that mathematics, which, of

course, I had to learn for my own business, have supplied something

for a foundation. They lead to ideas which are inconsistent with the

notion that the imagination is a measure of all things. Mind, I do

not for a moment pretend that I have any theory which explains the

universe. It is something, however, to know that the sky is as real

as the earth.'

They had now reached Great Ormond Street, and parted. Clara and

Marshall were about five minutes behind them. Madge was unusually

cheerful when they sat down to supper.