"You tremble and become flushed whenever Miss Oliver enters the
schoolroom."
Again the surprised expression crossed his face. He had not
imagined that a woman would dare to speak so to a man. For me, I
felt at home in this sort of discourse. I could never rest in
communication with strong, discreet, and refined minds, whether male
or female, till I had passed the outworks of conventional reserve,
and crossed the threshold of confidence, and won a place by their
heart's very hearthstone.
"You are original," said he, "and not timid. There is something
brave in your spirit, as well as penetrating in your eye; but allow
me to assure you that you partially misinterpret my emotions. You
think them more profound and potent than they are. You give me a
larger allowance of sympathy than I have a just claim to. When I
colour, and when I shade before Miss Oliver, I do not pity myself.
I scorn the weakness. I know it is ignoble: a mere fever of the
flesh: not, I declare, the convulsion of the soul. THAT is just as
fixed as a rock, firm set in the depths of a restless sea. Know me
to be what I am--a cold hard man."
I smiled incredulously.
"You have taken my confidence by storm," he continued, "and now it
is much at your service. I am simply, in my original state--
stripped of that blood-bleached robe with which Christianity covers
human deformity--a cold, hard, ambitious man. Natural affection
only, of all the sentiments, has permanent power over me. Reason,
and not feeling, is my guide; my ambition is unlimited: my desire
to rise higher, to do more than others, insatiable. I honour
endurance, perseverance, industry, talent; because these are the
means by which men achieve great ends and mount to lofty eminence.
I watch your career with interest, because I consider you a specimen
of a diligent, orderly, energetic woman: not because I deeply
compassionate what you have gone through, or what you still suffer."
"You would describe yourself as a mere pagan philosopher," I said.
"No. There is this difference between me and deistic philosophers:
I believe; and I believe the Gospel. You missed your epithet. I am
not a pagan, but a Christian philosopher--a follower of the sect of
Jesus. As His disciple I adopt His pure, His merciful, His
benignant doctrines. I advocate them: I am sworn to spread them.
Won in youth to religion, she has cultivated my original qualities
thus:- From the minute germ, natural affection, she has developed
the overshadowing tree, philanthropy. From the wild stringy root of
human uprightness, she has reared a due sense of the Divine justice.
Of the ambition to win power and renown for my wretched self, she
has formed the ambition to spread my Master's kingdom; to achieve
victories for the standard of the cross. So much has religion done
for me; turning the original materials to the best account; pruning
and training nature. But she could not eradicate nature: nor will
it be eradicated 'till this mortal shall put on immortality.'"