"Our civilization, Mrs. Caird——"
"Can never save the world. It cannot even save the individual. Besides, our civilization, whatever it may be scientifically, is ethically bankrupt."
"I was going to say, Mrs. Caird, that new truths affecting old clerical dogmas are generally offensive to old church members. Many good men live by serving the altar. They must be considered, and your brother and I, and every minister, knows that our people judge for themselves and only accept what they desire to accept. Is not that so, Macrae?" And Macrae, as he looked at his watch, answered indifferently, "You are right, Doctor. It is now time we took the carriage if we intend to catch our train."
So there was movement and a little noise, but, amid it, Ian heard his sister's answer, "To be sure, Dr. Scott, we all know well that Scotsmen do that which is right in their own eyes—and, also, that which is wrong."
With the usual pleasant formalities the men went away together, and Jessy sadly walked through the perishing garden, whispering to herself, as she did so:
"Through sins of sense, perversities of will,
Through doubt and pain, through guilt and shame, and ill,
Thy pitying eye is on Thy creatures still."
For she knew in her heart that no man could be more miserable than Ian Macrae. His religion was no longer even a habit, it had become an acute fever, and all conversation on this tremendous subject seemed so ineffectual, so mockingly beneath its meaning and its needs. It wearied his aching heart and brain, and gave him neither hope nor consolation. For he knew that any reasoned argument would be but the surface exhibition; it was only the unreasoned and immediate assurance that could satisfy his soul.