the story of my heart-第7章

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links　of　an　endless　chain。　At　the　mouth　of　the　ancient　cave；
face　to　face　with　the　unknown；　they　prayed。　Prone　in　heart　to…
day　I　pray；　Give　me　the　deepest　soul…life。

CHAPTER　IV

THE　wind　sighs　through　the　grass；　sighs　in　the　sunshine；　it　has
drifted　the　butterfly　eastwards　along　the　hill。　A　few　yards
away　there　lies　the　skull　of　a　lamb　on　the　turf；　white　and
bleached；　picked　clean　long　since　by　crows　and　ants。　Like　the
faint　ripple　of　the　summer　sea　sounding　in　the　hollow　of　the
ear；　so　the　sweet　air　ripples　in　the　grass。　The　ashes　of　the
man　interred　in　the　tumuius　are　indistinguishable；　they　have
sunk　away　like　rain　into　the　earth；　so　his　body　has　disappeared。
I　am　under　no　delusion；　I　am　fully　aware　that　no　demonstration　can　be　given
of　the　three　stepping…stones　of　the　Cavemen。　The　soul　is　inscrutable；　it　is
not　in　evidence　to　show　that　it　exists；　immortality　is　not　tangible。　Full
well　I　know　that
reason　and　knowledge　and　experience　tend　to　disprove　all　three；
that　experience　denies　answer　to　prayer。　I　am　under　no　delusion
whatever；　I　grasp　death　firmly　in　conception　as　I　can　grasp　this
bleached　bone；　utter　extinction；　annihilation。　That　the　soul　is
a　product　at　best　of　organic　composition；　that　it　goes　out　like
a　flame。　This　may　be　the　end；　my　soul　may　sink　like　rain　into
the　earth　and　disappear。　Wind　and　earth；　sea；　and　night　and
day；　what　then？　Let　my　soul　be　but　a　product；　what　then？　I　say　it　is　nothing
to　me；　this　only　I　know；　that　while　I　have　livednow；　this　moment；　while　I
liveI　think　immortality；　I　lift　my　mind　to　a　Fourth　Idea。　　If　I　pass　into
utter　oblivion；　yet　I　have　had　that。

The　original　three　ideas　of　the　Cavemen　became　encumbered　with
superstition；　ritual　grew　up；　and　ceremony；　and　long　ranks　of
souls　were　painted　on　papyri　waiting　to　be　weighed　in　the　scales；and　to　be
punished　or　rewarded。　These　cobwebs　grotesque　have　sullied　the　original
discoveries　and　cast　them
into　discredit。　Erase　them　altogether；　and　consider　only　the　underlying
principles。　The　principles　do　not　go　far　enough；　but　I　shall　not　discard　all
of　them　for　that。　Even　supposing　the　pure　principles　to　be　illusions；　and
annihilation　the　end；　even　then　it　is　betterit　is　something　gained　to　have
thought　them。　Thought　is　life；　to　have　thought　them　is　to　have　lived　them。
Accepting　two　of　them　as　true　in　principle；　then　I　say　that　these　are　but
the　threshold。　For　twelve　thousand　years　no　effort
has　been　made　to　get　beyond　that　threshold。　These　are　but　the　primer　of
soul…life；　the　merest　hieroglyphics　chipped　out；　a　little　shape　given　to　the
unknown。

Not　to…morrow　but　to…day。　Not　the　to…morrow　of　the　tumulus；　the　hour　of　the
sunshine　now。　This　moment　give　me　to　live　soul…life；　not　only　after　death。
Now　is　eternity；　now　I　am　in　the
midst　of　immortality；　now　the　supernatural　crowds　around　me。　Open　my　mind；
give　my　soul　to　see；　let　me　live　it　now　on　earth；　while　I　hear　the　burring
of　the　larger　bees；　the　sweet　air　in　the　grass；　and　watch　the　yellow　wheat
wave　beneath　me。　Sun　and　earth　and　sea；　night　and　daythese　are　the　least
of　things。　　Give　me　soul…life。

There　is　nothing　human　in　nature。　The　earth；　though　loved　so　dearly；　would
let　me　perish　on　the　ground；　and　neither　bring　forth　food　nor　water。　Burning
in　the　sky　the　great　sun；　of　whose　company　I　have　been　so　fond；　would　merely
burn　on　and　make　no　motion　to　assist　me。　Those　who　have　been　in　an　open　boat
at　sea　without　water　have　proved　the　mercies　of　the　sun；　and
of　the　deity　who　did　not　give　them　one　drop　of　rain；　dying
in　misery　under　the　same　rays　that　smile　so　beautifully　on　the　flowers。　In
the　south　the　sun　is　the　enemy；　night　and　coolness　and　rain　are　the　friends
of　man。　As　for　the　sea；　it　offers　us　salt　water　which　we　cannot　drink。　The
trees　care　nothing　for　us；　the　hill　I　visited　so　often　in　days　gone　by　has
not　missed　me。　The　sun　scorches　man；　and　willing　his　naked　state　roast　him
alive。　The　sea　and　the　fresh　water　alike　make　no　effort　to
uphold　him　if　his　vessel　founders；　he　casts　up　his　arms　in　vain；　they　come
to　their　level　over　his　head；　filling　the　spot　his　body　occupied。　If　he
falls　from　a　cliff　the　air　parts；　the　earth　beneath　dashes　him　to　pieces。

Water　he　can　drink；　but　it　is　not　produced　for　him；　how　many　thousands　have
perished　for　want　of　it？　Some　fruits　are　produced　which　he　can　eat；　but　they
do　not　produce　themselves　for　him；　merely　for　the　purpose　of　continuing
their　species。　In　wild；　tropical　countries；　at　the　first　glance　there
appears　to　be　some　consideration　for　him；　but　it　is　on　the　surface　only。　The
lion　pounces　on　him；　the　rhinoceros　crushes　him；　the　serpent　bites；　insects
torture；　diseases　rack　him。　Disease　worked　its　dreary　will　even　among　the
flower…crowned　Polynesians。　Returning　to　our
own　country；　this　very　thyme　which　scents　my　fingers　did　not　grow　for　that
purpose；　but　for　its　own。　So　does　the　wheat　beneath；　we　utilise　it；　but　its
original　and　native　purpose　was　for　itself。　By　night　it　is　the　same　as　by
day；　the　stars　care　not；　they　pursue　their　courses　revolving；　and　we　are
nothing　to　them。　There　is　nothing　human　in　the　whole　round　of　nature。
All　nature；　all　the　universe　that　we　can　see；　is　absolutely　indifferent　to
us；　and　except　to　us　human　life　is　of　no　more　value　than　grass。　If　the
entire　human　race　perished　at　this　hour；　what　difference　would　it　make　to
the
earth？　　What　would　the　earth　care？　As　much　as　for　the　extinct　dodo；　or　for
the　fate　of　the　elephant　now　going。

On　the　contrary；　a　great　part；　perhaps　the　whole；　of　nature　and
of　the　universe　is　distinctly　anti…human。　The　term　inhuman　does
not　express　my　meaning；　anti…human　is　better；　outre…human；　in
the　sense　of　beyond；　outside；　almost　grotesque　in　its　attitude
towards；　would　nearly　convey　it。　Everything　is　anti…human。　How
extraordinary；　strange；　and　incomprehensible　are　the　creatures
captured　out　of　the　depths　of　the　sea！　The　distorted　fishes；　the　ghastly
cuttles；　the　hideous　eel…like　shapes；　the　crawling　shell…encrusted　things；
the　centipede…like　beings；　monstrous
forms；　to　see　which　gives　a　shock　to　the　brain。　They　shock　the
mind　because　they　exhibit　an　absence　of　design。　　There　is　no
idea　in　them。

They　have　no　shape；　form；　grace；　or　purpose；　they　call　up　a　vague　sense　of
chaos；　chaos　which　the　mind　revolts　from。　It
would　be　a　relief　to　the　thought　if　they　ceased　to　be；　and
utterly　disappeared　from　the　sea。　They　are　not　inimical　of
intent　towards　man；　not　even　the　shark；　but　there　the　shark　is；
and　that　is　enough。　These　miserably　hideous　things　of　the　sea
are　not　anti…human　in　the　sense　of　persecution；　they　are　outside；　they　are
ultra　and　beyond。　It　is　like　looking　into
chaos；　and　it　is　vivid　because　these　creatures；　interred　alive　a
hundred　fathoms　deep；　are　seldom　seen；　so　that　the　mind　sees
them　as　if　only　that　moment　they　had　come　into　existence。　Use
has　not　habituated　it　to　them；　so　that　their　anti…human　character　is　at　once
apparent；　and　stares　at　us　with　glassy　eye。

But　it　is　the　same　in　reality　with　the　creatures　on　the　earth。
There　are　some　of　these　even　now　to　which　use　has　not　accus…
tomed　the　mind。　Such；　for　instance；　as　the　toad。　At　its
shapeless　shape　appearing　in　an　unexpected　corner　many　people
start　and　exclaim。　They　are　aware　that　they　shall　receive　no
injury　from　it；　yet　it　affrights　them；　it　sends　a　shock　to　the
mind。　The　reason　lies　in　its　obviously　anti…human　character。
All　the　designless；　formless　chaos　of　chance…directed　matter；
without　idea　or　human　plan；　squats　there　embodied　in　the
pathway。　By　watching　the　creature；　and　convincing　the　mind
from　observation　that　it　is　harmless；　and　even　has　uses；　the
horror　wears　away。　But　still　remains　the　form　to　which　the
mind　can　never　reconcile　itself。　Carved　in　wood　it　is　still
repellent。

Or　suddenly　there　is　a　rustle　like　a　faint　hiss　in　the　grass；
and　a　green　snake　glides　over　the　bank。　The　breath　in　the
chest　seems　to　lose　its　vitality；　for　an　instant　the　nerves
refuse　to　transmit　the　force　of　life。　The　gliding　yellow…streaked　worm　is　so
utterly　opposed　to　the　ever　present　Idea　in　the　mind。　Custom　may　reduce　the
horror；　but　no　long　pondering　can　ever　bring　that　creature　within　the　pale
of　the　hu