between him and it his
profession and his pledge. If he would forsake the one and violate the
other, by Heaven, he would do it boldly, and not seek to slink out by
such self-cozening. At least he would not deceive himself again. If he
sinned, he would sin openly to his own heart. There should be no
compact: nothing but defeat or victory! And yet, was he right? It would
be pitiful if for pride's sake, if for fear of the sneers of men, he
were to kill her joy and defile his own soul with her heart's blood.
People would laugh at the converted celibate--was it that he feared? Had
he fallen so low as that? or was the shrinking he felt not rather the
dread that his fall would be a stone of stumbling to others? for in his
infatuation he had assumed to be an example. Was there no distinguishing
good and evil? Could every motive and every act change form and color as
you looked at it, and be now the counsel of Heaven, and now the
prompting of Satan? How, then, could a man choose his path? In his
bewilderment the darkness closed round him, and he groaned aloud.

It was late now, nearly midnight, and the house was quiet. Stafford
walked to the open window and leant out, bending his tired head upon his
hand. As he looked out he saw through the darkness Eugene and Ayre still
sitting on the terrace. Ayre was talking.

"Yes," he was saying, "we are taught to think ourselves of a mighty deal
of importance. How we fare and what we do is set before us as a thing
about which angels rejoice or mourn. The state of our little minds, or
souls, or whatever it is, is a matter of deep care to the Creator--the
Life of the universe. How can it be? How are we more than minutest
points in that picture in his mind, which is the world? I speak in human
metaphor, as one must speak. In truth, we are at once a fraction, a tiny
fraction--oh! what a tiny fraction--of the picture, and the like little
jot of what it exists for. And does what comes to us matter very
much--whether we walk a little more or a little less cleanly--aim a
little higher or lower, if there is a higher and lower? What matter? Ah,
Eugene, our parents and our pastors teach us vanity! To me it seems
pitiful. Let us take our little sunshine, doing as little harm and
giving as little pain as we may, living as long as we can, and doing our
little bit of useful work for the ground when we are dead, if we did
none for the world when we were living. If you cremate, you will
deprive many peop