"Woe to the earth-born selfishness, that riseth up in opposition!

It is not agreeable to the law of G.o.d, nor can be. Down with the rebellion of ignorance and unbelief."

"But is no allowance to be made for human weakness? May we not weep over the calamities of life?"

"Aye, weep, if the tears wash out a sin, but not because the divine will is different from thine own. What callest thou calamity? There is no calamity, but sin."

"It is hard," sighed Armstrong, "to reach that height of abnegation and faith to which you would have me aspire."

"Hard, but attainable, for without faith it is impossible to please Him. There are examples set before us for imitation of what the trusting spirit can achieve. By faith Abraham offered up Isaac when he was tried, having confidence that G.o.d could raise him up even from the dead. By faith--but why should I recount the deeds of those grand souls, of whom the world was not worthy, who, through faith, subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, even from Enoch, who tasted not the bitterness of death, and Elijah, mounting on a fiery chariot, in a whirlwind, to heaven, down to these latter days, when, as said the apostle, 'faith should wax weak, and almost perish from the earth?'"

Armstrong looked at Holden, with an expression like fear.

"Who is equal to these things?" said he.

"I knew a man once," said the Enthusiast, thinking of the peril he had just escaped, and darkly shadowing forth its circ.u.mstances, "whom a ravening lion sought to destroy, and the heart of the man sunk within him, for, in view of the beast, he forgot that the Lord G.o.d omnipotent reigneth, but an angel whispered it in his ear, and strengthened him, and he defied the lion, and smote him, and killed the lion. Thus doth the Lord continue to perform his marvellous works, for he is faithful and true, and his mercy endureth for ever to them that love him."

Of course, Armstrong could have no correct idea of what Holden alluded to, nor did he inquire. It was to him only another instance, added by his enthusiastic friend, to the long catalogue of those in the sacred record, for whom faith had triumphed over danger, and wrought deliverance.

"It is, indeed," he said, "a mighty means to bring down the divine blessing."

"As is the law of gravitation to the worlds," said Holden, looking out upon the clear sky, filled with stars, "which is the constant force flowing from the living centre of all things, and retaining them in harmonious movement in their orbits; so is faith to the human soul.

When it is present all is peace, and harmony, and joy; when it is absent, a wild chaos, whirling in darkness and confusion, over which the Spirit hath never brooded like a dove."

At this moment the door opened, and Miss Armstrong, attended by William Bernard, entered the room. She advanced towards Holden, and gave him her hand, which he took into both of his, and looking fondly at her, said:

"Dear child, thy mother's image, the room is brighter for thy presence."

"There, William," said Faith, smiling, "a lady seldom receives so delicate a compliment."

"Mr. Holden," said Bernard, "belongs to the old school of politeness, of which Sir Charles Grandison is the model. Modern degeneracy might strive in vain to compete with it."

There was a slight, a very slight, an almost imperceptible tone of irony about the words, which did not escape the sensitive ear of Holden. He turned towards Bernard, and fastened his large eyes upon him, in silence, awhile, before he said:

"The secret of politeness is to be found in warmth and goodness of heart. Flame blazes not up from ice." The words, the tone, the look, conveyed his estimate of the character of the young man, and was not without influence on one, at least, of his auditors. "But," continued he, "thy presence, Faith, is truly, to me, as light. Deemest thou me capable of unmeaning compliments?"

"No," answered Faith, suspecting the little feeling of resentment, and desirous to soothe it, "I do not. Forgive my absurd observation."

"And I hope," said Bernard, in his most engaging manner, "that Mr.

Holden is not offended at my cla.s.sing him among those who for delicacy and refinement were never surpa.s.sed."

"I like not," said Holden, "to be made a subject of conversation. We will find a fitter topic."

"You spoke of Faith's resemblance to her mother," said Mr. Armstrong, "whose quick sensibility had also detected the jarring string; how did you discover it?"

"You forget," answered Holden, "that in conversation with me you have spoken of her."

"But not described her appearance."

"The resemblance of a child to a parent, may be oftentimes deduced from qualities of the mind, and traits of character. The outer garment is fitted to the interior man. The exterior and transient is the product of the interior and permanent. But I mean not that it was thus I discovered the likeness; and if for a moment I misled thee, let me correct my error and thy mistake. You will consider these as the speculations of a visionary."

"I do not consider them without foundation," said Armstrong, who, in the turn given to the conversation, seemed to have forgotten his question.

"It is a speculation which, followed out, might lead to many interesting conclusions," said Bernard. "Mr. Holden would greatly oblige us with his ideas."

"Do," said Faith, who delighted in the Solitary's flights. "Explain, dear Mr. Holden, your theory."

Holden looked at Mr. Armstrong, who bowed.

"The first man, Adam," said Holden, "was created perfect, perfect in body as in mind. The dignity and beauty of his person corresponded to the grandeur and purity of his soul, of which it was the outward expression. All graces and harmonies, and perfections of creation centered in him, for he was the image of his Maker. He was incapable of disease, because disease is disharmony and the fruit of sin, which as yet existed not. And he was obedient unto the voice of the Lord, nor did he transgress His laws in anything. His meat was the herb of the field and the fruit of the tree, and his drink the running brook.

He had no permission to eat of flesh. But in an evil hour he fell; a leprosy overspread his body and his soul; the divine purity could not approach as before; and to his closed spiritual eyes, the holy Presence once visible, became shrouded in clouds and thick darkness.

And as the spirit of man waxed more corrupt and he withdrew himself further from his heavenly source, so did his outward appearance, by a necessary law, whereby the outer and superficial conformeth itself, to the inner and hidden, become deformed and hideous. Hence is man now but a shadow, a skeleton of original beauty. The primeval perfection and present degeneracy of man, are the tradition of centuries."

Holden paused; and Faith said, gently, "There is a way to regain the happiness we have lost."

"There is a way," said Holden, "through Him, the second Adam, the Lord from heaven. But mark: like him, must man be obedient. A faith without works is fruitless and naught. How many imagine they have faith, and have it not! Will they give their bodies to be burned? Will they sacrifice the dearest thing they have, if it is His will? Nay, but faith hath almost perished from the earth."

Bernard observing Holden wandering from his subject, here inquired, "And by a reversal of the process by which it was lost, the outward beauty may be recovered?"

"Yes. By the restoration of internal beauty. It is the latter that shapeth and shineth through the former. But the eyes of men are blinded, and they cannot, because they will not, see the truth. The crust of inherited corruption interposeth betwixt them and the light.

Hence, having eyes they see not, and ears, and they cannot hear. There is a law to control the spiritual, and a law for the material, and it is by observance of these two laws, that man's first estate is to be regained. He must, therefore be temperate, and sober, and wise in the regulation of his appet.i.tes and pa.s.sions, banishing those pernicious inventions, whereby he degradeth and engendereth disease in a glorious structure that ought to be the temple of the Holy Ghost, and must diligently cultivate all n.o.ble aspirations, weeding out selfishness and gross desires, loving his neighbor as himself, and the Lord his G.o.d with all his heart, which latter is the admiration and love of beauty, and truth and justice, and of whatever is excellent. Thus both outwardly and inwardly will gradually be transformed, the marred and defaced image of humanity into the glorious likeness of the Son of G.o.d."

"That day so longed for and so glorious, is far distant I fear," said Mr. Armstrong.

"Nay, but the signs of His coming are kindling in the Eastern sky,"

exclaimed Holden, "and soon amid the hymns and hallelujahs of saints shall he establish His benign and resplendent empire. Then shall commence the upward career of the race, whose earthly goal is the state of primeval perfection; whose heavenly it hath not entered into the heart of man to conceive. Then in that bright Millennium, whose radiance streams through the advancing ages, shall man cast off the slough of ignorance and sin, and rise like the painted b.u.t.terfly, on the wings of faith, into the serene air of truth."

Our readers must not hold us responsible for the sentiments of Holden.

They are his own, and no one's else, and expressed in his own words, with all their wildness and incoherence. Opinions like these seem to have prevailed at all periods of the Christian era. They were entertained in the times of the Apostles, and are cherished now by a modern sect. Milton alludes to them in his treatise "Of Reformation in England" in language which for its stately eloquence, deserves to be transcribed to enrich this page. He speaks "of that day when Thou, the eternal and _shortly-expected_ King, shalt open the clouds to judge the several kingdoms of the world, and distributing national honors and rewards to religious and just commonwealths, shalt put an end to all earthly tyrannies, proclaiming thy universal and mild monarchy through heaven and earth; when they undoubtedly, that by their labors, counsels, and prayers, have been earnest for the common good of religion, and their country, shall receive above the inferior orders of the blessed, the regal additions of princ.i.p.alities, legions, and thrones, into their glorious t.i.tles, and in super-eminence of beatific vision, progressing the dateless and irrevoluble circle of eternity, shall clasp inseparable hands with joy and bliss in over-measure for ever."

His auditors never thought of reasoning with or contradicting the Enthusiast. They listened in silence, only when he paused, making some inquiry or suggestion, in order to induce him to develop his notions still further; and so in conversation of this kind pa.s.sed the evening.

Upon the departure of Bernard, Holden was pressed to pa.s.s the night at his host's, and accepted the invitation. The events of the day had proved to be too much for even his iron frame, and he was not unwilling to be relieved of the long walk to his hut. Before retiring, he listened reverently to a chapter from the Bible, read by Armstrong, and joined with him and Faith, in their customary devotions.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.

No man who sinks to sleep at night Knows what his dreams shall be; No man can know what wonder-sight His inner eye shall see.

THOMAS L. HARRIS.

When Holden was left alone in his chamber, he sank into a seat and covered his face with both hands. He remained in this position for some time, and when he removed them, it was very pale, and exhibited traces of strong emotion. He cast his eyes slowly around the room, examining every part, not even the furniture escaping minute observation. But of all the objects a portrait that hung over the fire-place attracted the most attention. It was that of a man, past the prime of life, and who in youth must have possessed considerable beauty. The features were regular and well-formed, the forehead high and broad, and the hair long and abundant, waving in curls over the shoulders. What was the age designed to be portrayed, it was difficult to determine with any degree of exactness, for there was a contradiction between the parts which appeared scarcely reconcilable with one another. Looking at the furrows that seamed the face, its pallor, and the wrinkles of the brow, one would have said that the original must have been a man between sixty and seventy, while the hair, dark and glossy, indicated much less age. Yet, the perfection of the drawing, the flesh-like tints that melted into each other, and the air of reality that stamped the whole, proclaimed the portrait the work of a master, and it was impossible to avoid the conviction that it was an authentic likeness.

Holden placed the candle on the mantelpiece in such a manner as best to throw light upon the picture, and stood at a little distance to contemplate it. As he gazed, he began to fancy he discovered traits which had at first escaped his observation. An expression of pain and anxious sadness overspread the face, and gleams of light, like the glare of insanity, shot from the eyes. So strong was the impression, and so deeply was he affected, that as if incapable of enduring the sight, he shut his eyes, and turning away, paced several times backwards and forwards, without looking up. After a few turns, he stopped before the portrait, and fixed his eyes upon it again, but only for a moment, to resume his walk. This he did repeatedly, until at last, with a groan, he dropped into a chair, where, crossing his arms upon his breast, he remained for awhile lost in thought. Who can say what were the reflections that filled his mind? Was he considering whether the painter meant to delineate insanity, or whether it was not a delusion springing from his own disordered intellect?

It was a long time before sleep visited the Solitary in his soft and curtained bed. It might be owing to the events of the day, so startling and unusual; it might be on account of the yielding bed, so different from his own hard couch; or in consequence of the effect produced by the portrait; or of all these causes combined, that sleep was long in coming, and when it did come, was disturbed with dreams, and unrefreshing. Before, however, Holden fell asleep, he had lain, as if under the influence of a spell, looking at the picture on which the beams of the moon, stealing through the branches of the large elm that shaded the house, flickered uncertainly and with a sort of wierd effect, as the night wind gently agitated the leaves.