Weighed and Wanting. George MacDonaldЧитать онлайн книгу.
of myself."
"And why shouldn't you hate him? You would be doing the wretch no wrong. Even if he knew it, it would be only what he deserved."
"That you cannot tell except you knew all about his nature, and every point of his history from the beginning of the creation till now. I dare not judge even a dog-fish. And whatever his deserts, I don't choose to hate him, because I don't choose to hate."
She turned away, and Vavasor saw she wanted no more of the dog-fish.
"Oh!" cried Saffy, with a face of terror, "look, look, mamma! It's staring at me!"
The child hid her face in her mother's gown, yet turned immediately to look again.
Mr. Raymount looked also, following her gaze, and was fascinated by the sight that met his eyes. Through the glass, high above his head, and not far from the surface, he saw a huge thornback, bending toward them and seeming to look down on them, as it flew slowly through the water—the action of the two sides of its body fringed with fins, and its consequent motion, were much more like the act of flying than that of swimming. Behind him floated his long tail, making him yet more resemble the hideously imagined kite which he at once suggested. But the terrible thing about him was the death's-head look of the upper part of him. His white belly was of course toward them, and his eyes were on the other side, but there were nostrils that looked exactly like the empty sockets of eyes, and below them was a hideous mouth. These made the face that seemed to Saffy to be hovering over and watching them.
"Like an infernal angel of death!" thought Mr. Raymount, but would not rouse yet more the imagination of the little one by saying it. Hester gazed with steadfast mien at the floating spectre.
"You seem in no danger from that one," said Vavasor.
"I don't think I understand you," said Hester. "What danger can there be from any of them?"
"I mean of hating him."
"You are right; I do not feel the smallest inclination to hate him."
"Yet the ray is even uglier than the dog-fish."
"That may be—I think not—but who hates for ugliness? I never should. Ugliness only moves my pity."
"Then what do you hate for?" asked Vavasor. "—But I beg your pardon: you never hate! Let me ask then, what is it that makes you feel as if you might hate?"
"If you will look again at the dog-fish, and tell me the expression of its mouth, I may be able to answer you," she returned.
"I will," said Vavasor; and, betaking himself to a farther portion of the tank, he stood there watching a little shoal of those sharks of the northern seas. While he was gone Cornelius rejoined them.
"I wish I knew why God made such ugly creatures," said Saffy to Mark.
The boy gave a curious half-sad smile, without turning his eyes from the thornback, and said nothing.
"Do you know why God made any creatures, pet?" said Hester.
"No, I don't. Why did he, Hessy?"
"I am almost afraid to guess. But if you don't know why he made any, why should you wonder that he made those?"
"Because they are so ugly.—Do tell me why he made them?" she added coaxingly.
"You had better ask mamma."
"But, Hessy, I don't like to ask mamma."
"Why don't you like to ask mamma, you little goose?"
"Because," said Saffy, who was all the time holding her mother's hand, and knew she was hearing her, "mamma mightn't know what to say."
Hester thought with herself, "I am sometimes afraid to pray lest I should have no answer!"
The mother's face turned down toward her little one.
"And what if I shouldn't know what to say, darling?" she asked.
"I feel so awkward when Miss Merton asks me a question I can't answer," said the child.
"And you are afraid of making mamma feel awkward? You pet!" said Hester.
Cornelius burst into a great laugh, and Saffy into silent tears, for she thought she had made a fool of herself. She was not a priggish child, and did not deserve the mockery with which her barbarian brother invaded her little temple. She was such a true child that her mother was her neighbor, and present to all her being—not her eyes only or her brain, but her heart and spirit as well.
The mother led her aside to a seat, saying,
"Come, darling; we must look into this, and try to understand it. Let me see—what is it we have got to understand? I think it is this—why you should be ashamed when you cannot answer the questions of one who knows so much more than you, and I should not be ashamed when I cannot answer the questions of my own little girl who knows so much less that I do. Is that it?"
"I don't know," sobbed Saffy.
"You shouldn't laugh at her, Corney: it hurts her!" said Hester.
"The little fool! How could that hurt her? It's nothing but temper!" said Cornelius with vexation. He was not vexed that he had made her cry, but vexed that she cried.
"You should have a little more sympathy with childhood, Cornelius," said his father. "You used to be angry enough when you were laughed at."
"I was a fool then myself!" answered Cornelius sulkily.
He said no more, and his father put the best interpretation upon his speech.
"Do you remember, Hester," he said, "how you were always ready to cry when I told you I did not know something you had asked me?"
"Quite well, papa," replied Hester; "and I think I could explain it now. I did not know then why I cried. I think now it was because it seemed to bring you down nearer to my level. My heaven of wisdom sank and grew less."
"I hope that is not what Saffy is feeling now; your mother must be telling her she doesn't know why God made the animals. But no! She is looking up in her face with hers radiant!"
And yet her mother had told her she did not know why God made the animals! She had at the same time, however, made her own confessed ignorance a step on which to set the child nearer to the knowledge of God; for she told her it did not matter that she did not know, so long as God knew. The child could see that her mother's ignorance did not trouble her; and also that she who confessed ignorance was yet in close communication with him who knew all about everything, and delighted in making his children understand.
And now came Vavasor from his study of the dog-fish. His nature was a poetic one, though much choked with the weeds of the conventional and commonplace, and he had seen and felt something of what Hester intended. But he was not alive enough to understand hate. He was able to hate and laugh. He could not feel the danger of hate as Hester, for hate is death, and it needs life to know death.
"He is cruel, and the very incarnation of selfishness," he said. "I should like to set my heel on him."
"If I were to allow myself to hate him," returned Hester, "I should hate him too much to kill him. I should let him live on in his ugliness, and hold back my hate lest it should wither him in the cool water. To let him live would be my revenge, the worst I should know. I must not look at him, for it makes me feel as wicked as he looks."
She glanced at Vavasor. His eyes were fixed on her. She turned away uncomfortable: could it be that he was like the dog-fish?
"I declare." said Cornelius, coming between them, "there's no knowing you girls! Would you believe it, Mr. Vavasor—that young woman was crying her eyes out last night over the meanest humbug of a Chadband I ever set mine on! There ain't one of those fishes comes within sight of him for ugliness. And she would have it he was to be pitied—sorrowed over—loved, I suppose!"
The last words of his speech he whined out in a lackadaisical tone.
Hester