"Why not?"—he asked earnestly—"Must we look on, and see men rushing toward certain misery, without making an effort to turn them hack?—to warn them of the darkness whither they are bound?—to rescue them before it is too late?"
"My friend, we can make the effort, certainly,—and we are bound to make it, because it is our duty,—but in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred we shall fail of our persuasion. What can I, or you, or any one, do against the iron force of Free-Will? God Himself will not constrain it,—how then shall we? In the Books of Esdras, which have already been of such use to you, you will find the following significant words: 'The Most High hath made this world for many, but the world to come for few. As when thou askest the earth, it shall say unto thee that it giveth much mold wherein earthen vessels are made, and but little dust that gold cometh of, even so is the course of this present world. There be many created but FEW shall be saved.'—God elects to be served by CHOICE—and NOT by compulsion; it is His Law that Man shall work out his own immortal destiny,—and nothing can alter this overwhelming Fact. The sublime Example of Christ was given us as a means to assist us in forming our own conclusions,—but there is no coercion in it,—only a Divine Love. You, for instance, were, and are, still perfectly free to reject the whole of your experience on the Field of Ardath as a delusion,—nothing would be easier, and, from the world's point of view, nothing more natural. Faith and Doubt are equally voluntary acts,—the one is the instinct of the immortal Soul, the other the tendency of the perishable Body,—and the Will decides which of the two shall conquer in the end. I know that you are firm in your high and true conviction,—I know also what thoughts are at work in your brain,—you are bending all your energies on the task of trying to instil into the minds of your fellow-men some comprehension of the enlightenment and hope you yourself possess. Ah, you must prepare for disappointment!—for though the times are tending toward strange upheavals and terrors, when the trumpet-voice of an inspired Poet may do enormous good,—still the name of the wilfully ignorant is Legion,—the age is one of the grossest Mammon worship, and coarsest Atheism,—and the noblest teachings of the noblest teacher, were he even another Shakespeare, must of necessity be but a casting of pearls before swine. Still"—and his rare sweet smile brightened the serene dignity of his features—"fling out the pearls freely all the same,—the swine may grunt at, but cannot rend you,—and a poet's genius should be like the sunlight, that falls on rich and poor, good and bad, with glorious impartiality! If you can comfort one sorrow, check one sin, or rescue one soul from the widening quicksand of the Atheist world, you have sufficient reason to be devoutly thankful."
By this time their walk had led them imperceptibly to one of the gates of egress from the Park, and Heliobas, pointing to a huge square building opposite, said:
"There is the hotel at which I am staying—one of the Americanized monster fabrics in which tired travellers find much splendid show, and little rest! Will you lunch with me?—I am quite alone."
Alwyn gladly assented,—he was most unwilling to part at once from this man, to whom in a measure he felt he owed his present happy and tranquil condition of body and mind; besides, he was curious to find out more about him—to obtain from him, if possible, an entire explanation of the actual tenets and chief characteristics of the system of religious worship he himself practiced and followed. Heliobas seemed to guess his thoughts, for suddenly turning upon him with a quick glance, he observed:
"You want to 'pluck out the heart of my mystery,' as Hamlet says, do you not, my friend?"—and he smiled—"Well, so you shall, if you can discover aught in me that is not already in yourself! I assure you there is nothing preternatural about me,—my peculiar 'eccentricity' consists in steadily adapting myself to the scientific spiritual, as well as scientific material, laws of the Universe. The two sets of laws united make harmony,—hence I find my life harmonious and satisfactory,—this is my 'abnormal' condition of mind,—and you are now fully as 'abnormal' as I am. Come, we will discuss our mutual strange non-conformity to the wild world's custom or caprice over a glass of good wine,—observe, please, that I am neither a 'total abstainer' nor a 'vegetarian,' and that I have a curious fashion of being TEMPERATE, and of using all the gifts of beneficent Nature equally, and without prejudice!' While he spoke, they had crossed the road, and they now entered the vestibule of the hotel, where, declining the hall-porter's offer of the "lift," Heliobas ascended the stairs leisurely to the second floor, and ushered his companion into a comfortable private sitting-room.
"Fancy men consenting to be drawn up to their apartments like babes in a basket!" he said laughingly, alluding to the "lift" process—"Upon my word, when I think of the strong people of a past age and compare them with the enervated race of to-day, I feel not only pity, but shame, for the visible degeneration of mankind. Frail nerves, weak hearts, uncertain limbs,—these are common characteristics of the young, nowadays, instead of being as formerly the natural failings of the old. Wear and tear and worry of modern existence?—Oh yes, I know!—but why the wear tear and worry at all? What is it for? Simply for the OVER-GETTING of money. One must live? … certainly,—but one is not bound to live in foolish luxury for the sake of out-flaunting one's neighbors. Better to live simply and preserve health, than gain a fortune and be a moping dyspeptic for life. But unless one toils and moils like a beast of burden, one cannot even live simply, some will say! I don't believe that assertion. The peasants of France live simply, and save,—the peasants of England live wretchedly, and waste! Voila la difference! As with nations, so with individuals,—it is all a question of Will. 'Where there's a will there's a way,' is a dreadfully trite copybook maxim, but it's amazingly true all the same. Now let us to the acceptation of these good things,"—this, as a pallid, boyish-looking waiter just then entered the room with the luncheon, and in his bustling to and fro manifested unusual eagerness to make himself agreeable—"I have made excellent friends with this young Ganymede,—he has sworn never to palm off raisin-wine upon me for Chambertin!"
The waiter blushed and chuckled as though he were conscious of having gained special new dignity and importance,—and having laid the table, and set the chairs, he departed with a flourishing bow worthy of a prince's maitre-d'hotel.
"Your name must seem a curious one to these fellows"—observed Alwyn, when he had gone,—"Unusual and even mysterious?"
"Why, yes!"—returned Heliobas with a laugh—"It would be judged so, I suppose, if I ever gave it,—but I don't. It was only in England, and by an Englishman, that I was once, to my utter amazement, addressed as 'He-ly-oh-bas'—and I was quite alarmed at the sound of it! One would think that most people in these educational days knew the Greek word helios,—and one would also imagine it as easy to say Heliobas as heliograph. But now to avoid mistakes, whenever I touch British territory and come into contact with British tongues, I give my Christian name only, Cassimir—the result of which arrangement is, that I am known in this hotel as Mr. Kasmer! Oh, I don't mind in the least—why should I?—neither the English nor the Americans ever pronounce foreign names properly. Why I met a newly established young publisher yesterday, who assured me that most of his authors, the female ones especially, are so ignorant of foreign literature that he doubts whether any of them know whether Cervantes was a writer or an ointment!"