"On the contrary, they are wholly of good when put in their proper places, and regarded not as Man's masters, but as Man's fellow-worshippers of the Most High. They rest not day or night, crying, 'Holy, Holy, Holy'; but Man is at present so stupid that he hasn't ears to hear their Sanctus."
Arthur was silent for a moment, then he said: "I like these ideas of yours, Reggie; they blow through one's dusty, stereotyped notions like a strong wind from the mountains. That is a fine conception of yours of a temple where the choristers are the constellations, and the acolytes the powers of the air. It makes one feel that the universe is so big and wide. But I don't quite see how all this explains your original proposition that Magic must not be confounded with Prayer."
"I'm sorry," I said; "I fear I am generally more or less of a wandering sheep where conversation is concerned. But what I mean—to put it tersely—is that Magic is more or less of a command, while Prayer altogether is a supplication. Both involve a mystical communion with an unseen Power; but while we may command the lesser Powers, we can do nothing but abase ourselves before the Highest Power of all."
"I see your point," said Arthur. "Since Magic is, so to speak, more or less mechanical, certain results must necessarily follow certain rituals; but with Prayer the final result lies with the Power to whom the request is made, and is therefore what one might call optional."
"Exactly. And I believe the reason why Prayer is not invariably answered at once—and not always in the way we expect—is to teach us that we are not controlling a spiritual force but are supplicating a living Person; therefore the final decision lies with Him and not with us, and we must be content to leave it there. If, by uttering certain words and performing certain ceremonies, I was invariably able to heal a patient, I should be healing by Magic, a thing, mind you, which has been done—and possibly still is done—in the history of the world; but if I lay what natural and spiritual gifts I may possess at the patient's service, and leave the result in Christ's hands, then Christ does what He thinks fit in His love and His own way. In dealing with a Person one must allow for the Personal Equation, even though that Person be our Lord Himself."
"I am glad to hear you say this," said Blathwayte as we parted, "as I was afraid that the idea of Magic—in conjunction with the healing powers which you undoubtedly possess—might get hold of a man of your peculiar temperament. But you seem to look at it as simply and naturally as Henderson does."
A few days after this conversation with Arthur, Annabel startled me by suddenly coming into the library, and saying without any preamble, as she stood beside my chair at the writing-table: "Where do you think I had better take a house, Reggie? somewhere near here or in London?"
"Take a house? What on earth do you mean?" I asked in amazement.
"Well, I must live somewhere, and I can't stay on very well here after you are married."
"But why not? You simply must stay on with us, and manage the house as you have always done; I couldn't bear the Manor without you."