“To the bar, perhaps, or the Church?”
“My mother and my aunt think these the only rational alternatives. They talk grandly of ‘la noblesse de la robe;’ but I confess I do not care for the career of a lawyer, nor do I think I have the talents necessary to insure success in it. While as for the Church,—may I speak my whole mind to you in confidence, Prince Ivan?”
“Certainly you may, my dear friend.”
“I am a sincere and earnest believer in Christianity,” Henri said. “I have heard the voice of God in the stormy wind and tempest, in the snow and hail which fulfilled his will. But since I have begun to study that will as revealed in his own Word, a suspicion I cannot dismiss grows and strengthens within me,—I fear some of the rites and doctrines of the Church in which I have been brought up are not in accordance with it.”
These words awakened for the first time in the mind of Ivan the thought that any real or important divergence might exist between the different forms of Christianity. Hitherto the world for him had contained two classes only—believers and infidels. These he found and expected to find everywhere—in the “orthodox” Church of his own country, amongst the Catholics of France and the Lutherans of Prussia. The idea suggested by Henri was so new to him that he paused for some moments to consider it before he answered, speaking slowly and with deliberation, “I am sorry you are troubled with such thoughts, Henri; for doubting keeps us from doing, and it seems to me that there is a great deal to be done in the world, and little time enough to do it. On the other hand, you would not have the doubts if God had not sent them to you. You are not doubting him; you are only doubting in what manner you can serve him best. So you must face your doubts and answer them, one way or the other. God will be with you, and lead you to the light. But in the meantime you need not sit idle.”
“True, most true. I am longing to work for God, who has done so much for me. Besides, what right have I to sit with folded hands, a burden upon my aunt? ‘If any man will not work, neither shall he eat.’ But it is much easier to say what I can’t do than what I can. My mother thinks so few things possible to one who has the misfortune, as I feel disposed to call it, of being nobly born.”
“What would you like to do, in your heart of hearts, Henri?”
“If I tell you, will you laugh at me, Prince Ivan?”
“Not I! Why should I? When I was a boy I could plough a straight furrow, and I was a fair hand with the reaping-hook. You cannot fancy any occupation lowlier than these.”
“I should like to use, not a plough, but a pencil and pair of compasses. At Vilna I lodged in the house of an architect, and spent much of my leisure over his books. I was always fond of mathematics, which are useful in that line. Prince Ivan, if you want to build a palace on your new estate, I shall be most happy to design it for you.”