A pretty little cottage-white, with green blinds; the neatest of neat fences; a little platform in front of the sidewalk with three steps leading up to it,--a convenient method of access to our high country carriages; two posts before the gate neatly1 turned, a trellis over the front door with a climbing rose which has mounted half way to the top and stopped to rest for the season; another trellis fan-shaped behind which a path disappears that leads round to the kitchen door; the tastiest of little bird houses, now tenantless2 and desolate,--this is the picture that meets my eye and assures me that Mr. Gear is a man both of taste and thrift3, as indeed he is.
Mrs. Gear who comes to the door in answer to my knock and who is a cheerful little body with yet a tinge4 of sadness in her countenance5, as one who knows some secret sorrow which her blithe6 heart cannot wholly sing away, is very glad to see me. She calls me by my name and introduces herself with a grace that is as much more graceful7 as it is more natural than the polished and stately manners which Mrs. Wheaton has brought with her from fashionable society to Wheathedge. Mr. Gear is out, he has gone down to the shop,--will I walk in,--he will be back directly. I am very happy to walk in, and Mrs. Gear introducing me to a cozy8 little sitting-room9 with a library table in the centre, and a book-case on one side, well filled too, takes Harry10 by the hand, and leads him out to introduce him to the great Newfoundland dog whom we saw basking11 in the sunshine on the steps of the side door, as we came up the road.
I am accustomed to judge of men by their companions, and books are companions. So whenever I am in a parlor12 alone I always examine the book-case, or the centre table--if there is one. In Mrs. Wheaton's parlor I find no book-case, but a large centre table on which there are several annuals with a great deal of gilt13 binding14 and very little reading, and a volume or two of plates, sometimes handsome, more often showy. In the library, which opens out of the parlor, I find sets of the classic authors in library bindings, but when I take one down it betrays the fact that no other hand has touched it to open it before. And I know that Jim Wheaton buys books to furnish his house, just as he buys wall paper and carpets. At Mr. Hardcap's I find a big family Bible, and half a dozen of those made up volumes fat with thick paper and large type, and showy with poor pictures, which constitute the common literature of two thirds of our country homes. And I know that poor Mr. Hardcap is the unfortunate victim of book agents. At Deacon Goodsole's I always see some school books lying in admirable confusion on the sitting-room table. And I know that Deacon Goodsole has children, and that they bring their books home at night to do some real studying, and that they do it in the family sitting-room and get help now and then from father and from mother. And so while I am waiting for Mr. Gear I take a furtive15 glance at his well filled shelves. I am rather surprized to find in his little library so large a religious element, though nearly all of it heterodox. There is a complete edition of Theodore Parker's works, Channing's works, a volume or two of Robertson, one of Furness, the English translation of Strauss' Life of Christ, Renan's Jesus, and half a dozen more similar books, intermingled with volumes of history, biography, science, travels, and the New American Cyclopedia. The Radical16 and the Atlantic Monthly are on the table. The only orthodox book is Beecher's Sermons,--and I believe Dr. Argure says they are not orthodox; the only approach to fiction is one of Oliver Wendell Holmes' books, I do not now remember which one. "Well," said I to myself, "whatever this man is, he is not irreligious."
I had just arrived at this conclusion when Mr. Gear entered. A tall, thin, nervous man, with a high forehead, piercing black eyes, and a restless uneasiness that forbids him from ever being for a moment still. Now he runs his hand through his hair pushing it still further back from his dome17 of a head, now he drums the table with his uneasy fingers, now he crosses and uncrosses his long legs, and once, as our conversation grows animated18, he rises from his seat in the vehemence19 of his earnestness, and leans against the mantel piece. A clear-eyed, frank faced, fine looking man, who would compel your heed20 if you met him anywhere, unknown, by chance, on the public street. "An infidel you may be," I say to myself, "but not a bad man; on the contrary a man with much that is true and noble, or I am no physiognomist or phrenologist either." And I rather pride myself on being both.
We lawyers learn to study the faces of our witnesses, to form quick judgments21, and to act upon them. If I did not mistake my man the directest method was the best, and I employed it.
"Mr. Gear," said I, "I have come to ask you to join my Bible class."
"Me!" said Mr. Gear unmistakeably surprised. "I don't believe in the Bible."
"So I have heard," I said quietly. "And that's the reason I came to you first. In fact I do not want you to join my Bible class. I have not got any Bible class as yet, I want you to join me in getting one up."
Mr. Gear smiled incredulously. "You had better get Deacon Goodsole," said he,--"or," and the smile changed from a goodnatured to a sarcastic22 one, "or Mr. Hardcap."
"I have no doubt they would either of them join me," said I. "But they believe substantially as I have been taught to believe about the Bible. They have learned to look at it through creeds23, and catechisms, and orthodox preaching. I want to get a fresh look at it. I want to come to it as I would come to any other book, and to find out what it means, not what it seems to mean to a man who has been bred to believe that it is only the flesh and blood of which the dry bones are the Westminster Assembly's Catechism."
"Mr. Laicus," said Mr. Gear, "I thank you for the honor you do me. But I don't believe in the Bible. I don't believe it's the word of God any more than Homer or Tacitus. I don't believe those old Hebrews knew any more than we do--nor half so much. It says the world was made in six days. I think it more likely it was six millions of years in making."
"So do I," said I.
"It says God rested on the Sabbath day. I believe He always works, day and night, summer and winter, in every blazing fire, in every gathering24 storm, in every rushing river, in every growing flower, in every falling leaf."
He rose as he spoke25 and stood, now leaning against the mantel piece, now standing26 erect27, his dark eyes flashing, his great forehead seeming to expand with great thoughts, his soul all enkindled with his own eloquence28: for eloquent29 he really was, and all unconscious of it.
"Your Bible," said he "shuts God up in a Temple, and in an ark in that, and hides him behind curtains where the High priest can find him but once a year. My God is every where. There is no church that can hold him. The heavens are his home; the earth is his footstool. All this bright and beautiful world is his temple. He is in every mountain, in every cloud, in every winter wind and every summer breeze."
He looked so handsome in his earnest eloquence that I had no heart to interrupt him. And yet I waited and watched for any opening he might give me, and thought of Jennie, and her prayers at home, and declared to myself by God's help I would not let this man go till I had caught him and brought him to know the love that now he knew not.
"Your Bible, Mr. Laicus," said he, "sets apart one day for the Lord and gives all the rest to the world, the flesh, and the devil. I believe all days are divine, all days are the Lord's, all hours are sacred hours and all ground is holy ground."
I wanted to tell him that my Bible did no such thing. But I had fully30 considered what I would do before I had sought this interview. I had resolved that nothing should tempt31 me into a contradiction or an argument. I had studied Jennie's method, and I reserved my fire.
"Your Bible tells me," said he, "that God wrote his laws with his finger on two tables of stone; that he tried to preserve them from destruction by bidding them be kept in a sacred ark; and that despite his care they were broken in pieces before Moses got down from the mountain top. I believe he writes them impartially32 in nature and in our hearts, that science interprets them, and that no Moses astonished out of his presence of mind can harm them or break the tablets on which they are engraven."
So true, yet oh so false. Oh God! help me to teach him what my Bible really is and what its glorious teachings are.
"I don't believe the Bible is the Word of God. I can't believe it. I don't believe the laws of Moses are any more inspired than the laws of Solon, or the books of Samuel and Kings than the history of Tacitus, or the Psalms35 of David than the Paradise Lost of Milton, or--you'll think me bold indeed to say so Mr. Laicus," (he was cooler now and spoke more slowly), "the words of Jesus, than the precepts36 of Confucius or the dialogues of Plato."
In that sentence he gave to me my clue. I seized it instantly, and never lost it from that moment. Never case in court so thrilled me with excitement as I too arose and leaned against the mantel-piece. And never was I, in tone and manner, calmer.
"As much so?" I asked carelessly.
"Yes....." said he, hesitatingly, "yes..... as much so I suppose."
"The ten commandments have been before the world for over three thousand years," said I. "The number that have learned them and accepted them as a guide, and found in them a practical help is to be counted by millions. There is hardly a child in Wheathedge that does not know something of them, and has not been made better for them; and hardly a man who knows Solon even by name. We can hardly doubt that the one is as well worth studying as the other, Mr. Gear."
"No," said Mr. Gear. "I don't deny that they are worth studying. But I do deny that they are inspired."
"The Psalms of David have supplied the Christian37 church with its best psalmody for nearly three thousand years," continued I. "They constitute the reservoir from which Luther, and Watts38, and Wesley, and Doddridge, and a host of other singers have drawn39 their inspiration, and in which myriads40 untold41 have found the expression of their highest and holiest experiences, myriads who never heard of Homer. They are surely as well worth studying as his noble epics42."
"I don't deny, they are worth studying," said Mr. Gear. "I only assert that they ought to be studied as any other books of noble thoughts, intermingled with grossest errors, should be studied."
"The words of Jesus," I continued more slowly than before "have changed the life and character of more than half the world, that half which alone possesses modern civilization, that half with which you and I, Mr. Gear, are most concerned. There was wonderful power in the doctrines43 of Buddha44. But Buddhism45 has relapsed everywhere into the grossest of idolatries. There is a wonderful wealth of moral truth in the ethics46 of Confucius. But the ethics of Confucius have not saved the Chinese nation from stagnation47 and death. There is wonderful life-awaking power in the writings of Plato. But they are hid from the common people in a dead language, and when a Prof. Jowett gives them glorious resurrection in our vernacular48, they are still hid from the common people by their subtlety49. Every philosopher ought to study Plato. Every scholar may profitably study Buddha and Confucius. But every intelligent American ought to study the life and words of Jesus of Nazareth."
"I do," said Mr. Gear. "I do not disesteem Jesus of Nazareth. I honor him as first among men. I revere50 his noble life, his sublime51 death, and his incomparable teachings. I have read his life in the Gospels; I have read it as Strauss gives it; and as Renan gives it; and now I am devoting my Sunday afternoons to reading it as Pressense gives it. You see I am an impartial33 student. I read all sides."
"You think Christ's life and teaching worth your study then?" I said inquiringly.
"Worth my study? Of course I do," said he. "I am an infidel, Mr. Laicus; at least people commonly call me so, and think it very dreadful. But I do not mean to be ignorant of the Bible or of Christianity as Jesus Christ gave it to us. It needs winnowing52. We have grown wiser and know better about many things since then. But it is well worth the studying and will be for many years to come."
"All I ask of you," said I, "is to let me to study it with you."
He made no answer; but looked me steadily53 in the eye as if to try and fathom54 some occult design.
"No," said I, "that is not all. As I came by Joe Poole's I saw half a dozen of the men from your shop lounging about the door. They could spend the afternoon to better purpose, Mr. Gear, in studying the life and words of Jesus."
"I know they could," he said. "No man can say that any word or influence of mine helped carry them to Joe Poole's bar."
"Will you lend your word and influence with mine to summon them away?" said I.
He made no answer.
"I saw a dozen others engaged at a game of ball upon the green as I passed by."
"A harmless sport, Mr. Laicus, and as well done on Sunday as on any other holiday."
"Perhaps," said I. "But an hour and a half from their Sunday in studying the life and words of Jesus would do them no harm, and detract nothing from their holiday. They do not study so hard throughout the week that the brain labor55 would be injurious."
Mr. Gear smiled.
"There is not a man in your shop, Mr. Gear, that would not be made a better workman, husband, father, citizen, for studying that life and those teachings one hour a week."
"It is true," said he.
"You organized a Shakspeare club last winter to keep them from Joe Poole's," said I. "Was it a good thing?"
"Worked capitally," said Mr. Gear.
"Won't you join me in organizing a Bible club for Sunday afternoons this winter for the same purpose?"
"There is so little in common between us," said he; and he looked me through and through with his sharp black eyes. What a lawyer he would have made; what a cross examination he could conduct.
"You believe in the literal inspiration of the New Testament56 Scripture57. I believe it is a book half legend half history. You believe in the miracles. I believe they are mythical58 addition of a later date. You believe that Jesus Christ was conceived of the Holy Ghost and born of the Virgin59 Mary. I believe his birth was as natural as his death was cruel and untimely. You believe that--he was divine. I believe he was a man of like passions as we ourselves are,--a Son of God only as every noble spirit is a spark struck off from the heavenly Original. You believe that he bears our sins upon a tree. I believe that every soul must bear its own burdens. What is there in common between us? What good could it do to you or to me to take Sunday afternoon for a weekly tournament, with the young men from the shop for arbitrators?"
"None," said I calmly.
"What would you have then?" said he.
"When you organized that Shakspeare club last winter," said I, "did you occupy your time in discussions of the text? Did you compare manuscripts? Did you investigate the canonicity of Shakspeare's various plays? Did you ransack60 the past to know the value of the latest theory that there never was a Will. Shakspeare save as a nom de plume61 for Lord Bacon? Did you inquire into the origin of his several plots, and study to know how much of his work was really his own and how much was borrowed from foreign sources. Or did you leave that all to the critics, and take the Shakspeare of today, and gather what instruction you might therefrom?"
Mr. Gear nodded his head slowly, and thoughtfully, as if he partially34 perceived the meaning of my answer. But he made no other response.
"There is much in common between us, Mr. Gear," I continued earnestly, "though much, very much that is not. We can find plenty of subject for fruitless debate no doubt. Can we find none for agreement and mutual62 helpfulness? Jesus of Nazareth you honor as first among men. You revere His noble life, His sublime death, His incomparable teachings. So do I. That noble life we can read together, Mr. Gear, and together we may emulate63 His example without a fruitless debate whether it be divine or no. Those incomparable teachings we can study together, that together we may catch the spirit that dictated64 them, without a theological controversy65 as to their authority. And even that sublime death I should hope we might contemplate66 together, without contention67, though in the suffering Christ you see only a martyr68, and I behold69 my Saviour70 and my God."
He made no answer, still stood silent. But he no longer looked at me with his sharp eyes. They had retired71 beneath his shaggy eyebrows72 as though he would search his own soul through and through, and read its verdict. He told me afterwards the story of his battle; I guessed it even then.
"We may not agree on the Gospel of John, Mr. Gear," said I, "but we shall not quarrel about the Golden Rule and the Sermon on the Mount."
"Mr. Laicus," said Mr. Gear at length, very slowly. "I thank you for coming to me, I thank you for speaking plainly and frankly73 as you have; I thank you for the respect which you have shown to my convictions. They are honest, and were not arrived at without a struggle and some self sacrifice. You are the first Christian," he added bitterly "that ever paid them the regard of a respectful hearing. I will join you in that Bible Class for this winter, and I will prove to you, infidel that I am, that I as well as a Christian, can respect convictions widely different from my own. If we quarrel it shall not be my fault."
"I believe you, Mr. Gear," said I. "God helping74 me it shall not be mine, and there's my hand upon it."
He grasped it warmly.
"When shall we begin?" said I.
"Next Sunday."
"Where?" said I.
"As you please?" said he.
"Here, or in my house, or at the church parlors75, or wherever we can gather the young men," said I.
"The mill school-house is better than either," said he. "The boys will come there. They are used to it."
"The mill school-house be it," said I. "Next Sunday afternoon at 3 o'clock. I will bring the Bibles; you will bring the boys."
"As many as I can," said he.
"Jennie," said I that evening. "Mr. Gear and I are going to take the Bible Class together."
Tears stood in her eyes as she looked up at me with that smile I love so much. But she only said. "I knew you would succeed John."
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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tenantless
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| adj.无人租赁的，无人居住的 | |
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thrift
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| adj.节约，节俭；n.节俭，节约 | |
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tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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blithe
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| adj.快乐的，无忧无虑的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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cozy
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| adj.亲如手足的，密切的，暖和舒服的 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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creeds
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| （尤指宗教）信条，教条( creed的名词复数 ) | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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impartially
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| adv.公平地，无私地 | |
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impartial
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| adj.(in,to)公正的，无偏见的 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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psalms
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| n.赞美诗( psalm的名词复数 )；圣诗；圣歌；(中的) | |
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precepts
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| n.规诫，戒律，箴言( precept的名词复数 ) | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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watts
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| （电力计量单位）瓦，瓦特( watt的名词复数 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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myriads
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untold
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| adj.数不清的，无数的 | |
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epics
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| n.叙事诗( epic的名词复数 )；壮举；惊人之举；史诗般的电影（或书籍） | |
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doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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Buddha
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| n.佛；佛像；佛陀 | |
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Buddhism
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| n.佛教（教义） | |
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ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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stagnation
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| n. 停滞 | |
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vernacular
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| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
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subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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revere
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| vt.尊崇，崇敬，敬畏 | |
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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winnowing
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| v.扬( winnow的现在分词 )；辨别；选择；除去 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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57
scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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58
mythical
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| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
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59
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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60
ransack
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| v.彻底搜索，洗劫 | |
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61
plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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62
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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63
emulate
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| v.努力赶上或超越，与…竞争；效仿 | |
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dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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65
controversy
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| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
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66
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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contention
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| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
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68
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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69
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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71
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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72
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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73
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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74
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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parlors
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| 客厅( parlor的名词复数 )； 起居室； （旅馆中的）休息室； （通常用来构成合成词）店 | |
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