Chapter XVI: Nat's Cottage

"IT ought to be well done certainly, with three of us to accomplish the business," said Mr. Prior, patting the pony's head as he began to loosen the rein. "Unless indeed it were a case of 'too many cooks,' Tyrrell."

"Dapple ain't the sort of 'broth' to be so easy spoilt, sir," said Nat, with a laugh.

"I hope not. By the bye, Tyrrell—yes, you can tighten that strap a little—did I not hear that you were thinking of changing your cottage soon?"

"At quarter-day—yes, sir," said Nat, looking flattered at the interest shown in his affairs. "You see, sir, the one we're in now, though it's a neat place enough, is over small, and it's draughty and smoky besides. So now I'm getting on a bit in the world, we thought we'd look out for a better."

"You have not found one yet, I suppose?"

"Why, no, sir, and I'm not sure after all that I haven't been imprudent in giving notice about this, before we'd some idea of a new one like to suit us."

"Poor fellow—but of course you could not help that, though it was unwise," said Mr. Prior compassionately.

Nat Tyrrell was not the only one present who stared with open eyes.

Mr. Prior looked back so calmly, however, that even Mrs. Prior began to fancy she must have been mistaken, in thinking that her husband had said anything extraordinary.

"I had an idea, now,—but of course it is not worth my while mentioning it to you," said Mr. Prior thoughtfully.

"An idea about what, sir, if I might make bold to ask?" inquired Nat Tyrrell, with curiosity.

"O merely an idea, not at all worth mentioning. Of course it could make no possible difference in the end," said Mr. Prior, leading the pony towards the carriage.

Nat followed, wondering what in the world had come over Mr. Prior, and half disposed to fear it must be a case of sun-stroke.

"I'd be very glad of any advice, sir," he said, by way of testing the soundness of Mr. Prior's mind.

"You are not looking out for a new cottage, of course," said Mr. Prior.

"Indeed, sir, but I am. You don't happen to know of one, do you, sir?" asked Nat, with some eagerness.

"You do not really mean to say you are giving yourself any trouble about the matter!" said Mr. Prior in a tone of astonishment.

"To be sure, I should just think I was too," said Nat rather indignantly. "A pretty thing it would be, if we waited with our hands before us till we found ourselves homeless."

Nat suddenly stopped and looked rather foolish, remembering the last time he had used that expression. A faint idea of Mr. Prior's meaning began to dawn upon his mind.

"So if you don't look out for another cottage, you think that may probably be the result," said Mr. Prior.

"I don't see what else would be like to happen," Nat answered in a subdued tone.

"True, but then, if it were so, it would have been fore-ordained by God," said Mr. Prior. "And what is fore-ordained must come to pass."

Nat seemed at a loss what to reply.

"You see, Tyrrell, I am a firm believer in the doctrine of God's foreknowledge and pre-ordering of events," continued Mr. Prior. "It is told very plainly in the Bible—'He doeth according to His will in the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth, and none can stay His hand, or say unto Him, What doest Thou?' And again He says, 'I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done.'"

"They're wonderful texts, sir. I don't know as I ever saw 'em before," said Nat thoughtfully.

"There are truths in them which cannot for a moment be set aside. Now, looking upon the matter in that light, knowing that your future life is, as it were, all marked out in the secret mind of God; how can I for a moment suppose that 'you' have any freedom or choice as to your own actions? How can I in common fairness blame you for doing that which it has been fore-ordained from all eternity that you should do? I must rather look upon you as the unhappy victim of circumstances, as a mere puppet in the hands of a superior Power, with nothing more of praise or blame attaching to anything you may do or think, than to the movements of a hammer or saw in the hands of a workman. As for believing in God's absolute power and fore-ordering of all things, and at the self same time treating you as a reasonable creature, worthy of blame or praise—why, looking upon the matter in a common-sense light, the thing seems simply impossible."

Nat fidgeted uneasily, but did not speak.

"You were saying just now that you had given notice to your landlord rather early," Mr. Prior went on. "It sounds imprudent, to be sure. But then, poor fellow, no one can dream of laying blame upon you. For it was all fore-ordained that you should give notice upon just that particular day; and if it was to be, how could you help it? How could you possibly have acted otherwise?"

Nat's bronzed cheek took a deeper hue than its wont. "Well, sir, you have me there for certain!" he said frankly.

"You say you are looking out for a cottage," continued Mr. Prior, in the same deliberate manner. "And it did occur to me that I knew of one which might just suit you."

"No! Do you, sir?"

"But I have decided that it would be quite useless trouble on my part to mention particulars. For if that identical cottage is pre-ordained to be your home, it will be your home, whether I tell you about it or no. And if it is not pre-ordained to be your home, then no words of mine or efforts of yours can make it so. Whatever the result may be, one thing is clear, and that is that nobody can be blamed."

"But, sir,—" Nat began, and paused.

"So you see it is a very simple matter, Tyrrell, looking upon it in this light. If a chosen home awaits you, that home will in time become yours. If you don't look out for one, and find yourself brought down to sleeping in the open air, why, it will no doubt be something of a trial to you and your family, but you must comfort yourself with the thought that all things are pre-ordained by God, and that you,—not being a responsible creature,—can be justly blamed by no one."

"Don't seem to me as that 'ud be much of a consolation neither," said Nat, rather humbly. "Please, sir, if you wouldn't mind after all telling me about that there cottage—"

"It is a very nice cottage," said Mr. Prior. "A particularly nice one, Tyrrell. I do most sincerely hope, for your sake, that it may prove to be your pre-ordained future home. I should advise you on your return this evening to sit quietly down, with your hands before you, and patiently await the opening out of events, through which in the course of time you will learn exactly what is to happen to you."

"I beg your pardon, sir, but I think I'd be better satisfied, and not such a fool neither, if I was to see the landlord, and set the matter going,—if you'd be so very good, sir, as to tell me where that cottage is," added Nat, growing beseeching.

"Come, now, we will make an agreement. If you will do one thing for me, I will tell you what you wish."

"Anything, sir," said Nat eagerly.

"I would not promise rashly, if I were you. Of course you fully believe, Tyrrell, that all things are fore-ordained by God?"

"Seems clear enough in the Bible about that, sir, any way," said Tyrrell.

"And that every event of your future life is in His hands,—that He arranges matters, and moves the hearts of men, according to His divine will,—that you cannot take one step or lift one finger, unless He gives you power,—that nothing in heaven or earth can come about without His permission!"

"'Tis all true," Tyrrell answered.

"And yet you seem to think that you have some sort of voice in the matter,—that you have a certain freedom of will and a certain liberty of action,—that events may be brought about by yourself,—that you might be fairly blamed and might justly suffer, from refusing to take certain steps which appear to you wise and right."

Tyrrell nodded silently.

"Then, Tyrrell, there lie two great and wonderful truths side by side. Will you kindly reconcile them for me? Please to explain to me in clear terms, by the light of reason and common-sense, exactly how they both exist, and how they work. If you can reach to the bottom of this deep mystery of God, which no living man has ever yet fathomed, you shall command me to do what you will about the cottage, or any other earthly matter."

"I'll have to wait long enough for the cottage, if that has to come between," said Nat, in a low voice. "Sir, I never did see the matter in that light before, I must confess."

"Nor I neither," said Blayney.

"No, because in every-day practical matters, you put aside theory and attend to fact. You 'know' God's power to be boundless, and you pray Him to guide you in your way, and He guides you. You 'feel' you are free to act, and you act. You don't trouble your head with trying to settle exactly how far your own freedom in action may reach, or how far God chooses directly to control your mind and the minds of those about you. But when you touch upon the question of salvation, you must needs perplex your brains by trying to understand what can't be understood, and struggling to reconcile truths which God has not given us power to reconcile, till you end by putting reason in the place of faith, and working yourselves into a perfect maze. It is dangerous work, men."

"Well, sir, I believe you're about right," said Tyrrell soberly. "Maybe I've been rash in things I've said."

"As most men are who attempt to get to the bottom of these questions. It is like a bather who cannot swim, getting out of his depth in the sea. We are mere children, looking upon the outside crust of God's great universe. But mystery lies beyond wherever we turn, and deep as men fancy themselves able to dig, they still only end in mystery. As for saying we won't believe God's truths, just because we cannot understand them, that is simply and childishly absurd."

"But a great many deep thinkers do doubt," said Mona involuntarily.

"And a much greater number of shallow ones. The truth is, all these questionings are just going off from the simplicity of the Word. God's linked commands and promises are very easy to understand. 'Believe, and thou shalt be saved.' 'Ask, and ye shall receive.' It is perfectly true that you cannot act, or will to act, without grace from above. Nevertheless 'act'—don't lie helplessly on the ground—only act, ask, believe, and safety is yours."

"'Tis hard to have to make up one's mind one can't understand things," said Nat.

"May be so—to the 'pride of human intellect,' of which we hear so much in the present day. But the greatest minds are those which bow most meekly before the Word of God, and feel most deeply their own utter littleness. There is nothing for these matters but simple trust."

"Then you'd just have us shut our eyes to such difficulties in the Bible, sir," said Nat.

"No, certainly not. I would have you neither shut your eyes to them, nor shuffle over them in alarm, nor believe one side to the exclusion of the other, nor stake your faith upon the power of man to reconcile them. Don't be afraid to look the matter in the face, and to confess frankly that there are many things which you can't understand, and never will understand in this life. Only make a firm stand upon the justice, and holiness, and love of God, take each revealed truth as God has given it to you, let it lie alone where God has placed it; and be content to believe where you cannot see, waiting till fuller sight is given to you. For a time will come—and to all of us I trust—when our training as children will be over, and these perplexities shall pass away, like mist on the mountain-side, in the glorious light of our Saviour's unveiled presence."

Then after a short grave silence, Mr. Prior said cheerfully—

"And now, Tyrrell, I am ready to give you all the information in my power, about the cottage I have seen."