"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.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024