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Page 11
"Yes," I said, "all that is true and good; it is the exclusive claim and
not the inclusive which one regrets. It is the voice which says, 'Accept
my exact faith, or you have no part in the inheritance,' which is wrong.
The real voice of religion is that which says, 'You are my brother and
my sister, though you know it not.' And if one says, 'We are all at
fault, we are all far from the truth, but we live as best we can,
looking for the larger hope and for the dawn of love,' that is the
secret. The sacrament of God is offered and eaten at many a social meal,
and the Spirit of Love finds utterance in quiet words from smiling lips.
One cannot teach by harsh precept, only by desirable example; and the
worst of the correct profession of religion is that it is often little
more than taking out a licence to disapprove."
"Yes," said Amroth, "you are very near a great truth. The mistake we
make is like the mistake so often made on earth in matters of human
government--the opposing of the individual to the State, as if the State
were something above and different to the individual--like the old
thought of the Spirit moving on the face of the waters. The individual
is the State; and it is the same with the soul and God. God is not above
the soul, seeing and judging, apart in isolation. The Spirit of God is
the spirit of humanity, the spirit of admiration, the spirit of love. It
matters little what the soul admires and loves, whether it be a flower
or a mountain, a face or a cause, a gem or a doctrine. It is that
wonderful power that the current of the soul has of setting towards
something that is beautiful: the need to admire, to worship, to love. A
regiment of soldiers in the street, a procession of priests to a
sanctuary, a march of disordered women clamouring for their rights--if
the idea thrills you, if it uplifts you, it matters nothing whether
other people dislike or despise or deride it--it is the voice of God for
you. We must advance from what is merely brilliant to what is true; and
though in the single life many a man seems to halt at a certain point,
to have tied up his little packet of admirations once and for all, there
are other lives where he will pass on to further loves, his passion
growing more intense and pure. We are not limited by our circle, by our
generation, by our age; and the things which youthful spirits are
divining and proclaiming as great and wonderful discoveries, are often
being practised and done by silent and humble souls. It is not the
concise or impressive statement of a truth that matters, it is the
intensity of the inner impulse towards what is high and true which
differentiates. The more we live by that, the less are we inclined to
argue and dispute about it. The base, the impure desire is only the
imperfect desire; if it is gratified, it reveals its imperfections, and
the soul knows that not there can it stay; but it must have faced and
tested everything. If the soul, out of timidity and conventionality,
says 'No' to its eager impulses, it halts upon its pilgrimage. Some of
the most grievous and shameful lives on earth have been fruitful enough
in reality. The reason why we mourn and despond over them is, again,
that we limit our hope to the single life. There is time for everything;
we must not be impatient. We must despair of nothing and of no one; the
true life consists not in what a man's reason approves or disapproves,
not in what he does or says, but in what he sees. It is useless to
explain things to souls; they must experience them to apprehend them.
The one treachery is to speak of mistakes as irreparable, and of sins as
unforgivable. The sin against the Spirit is to doubt the Spirit, and the
sin against life is not to use it generously and freely; we are happiest
if we love others well enough to give our life to them; but it is better
to use life for ourselves than not to use it at all."
VII
One day I said to Amroth, "Are there no rules of life here? It seems
almost too good to be true, not to be found fault with and censured and
advised and blamed."
"Oh," said Amroth, laughing, "there are plenty of _rules_, as you call
them; but one feels them, one is not told them; it is like breathing and
seeing."
"Yes," I replied, "yet it was like that, too, in the old days; the
misery was when one suddenly discovered that when one was acting in what
seemed the most natural way possible, it gave pain and concern to some
one whom one respected and even loved. One knew that one's action was
not wrong, and yet one desired to please and satisfy one's friends; and
so one fell back into conventional ways, not because one liked them but
because other people did, and it was not worth while making a fuss--it
was a sort of cowardice, I suppose?"
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