It was very unfortunate for hiShe was beginning to gain an ascendency over him in other wayspossibly she might have brought that barren soil under cultivation, she might have widened his ideas and given other directions to his thoughts. Is there any instinct more deeply implanted in the heart of man than the pride of protection, a protection which is constantly exerted for a fragile and defenceless creature? Join love thereto, the warmth of gratitude that all generous souls feel for the source of their pleasures, and you have the explanation of many strange incongruities in human nature,After seven years of unclouded happiness, Goriot lost his wife. Goriot had felt the charm of a lovely and sensitive nature, which, in its delicate strength, was the very opposite of his own. He had regarded his wife, the only daughter of a rich farmer of La Brie, with a devout admirationhis love for her had been boundless. Heart to the exclusion of every other feelinginto them he seemed to put all the forces of his nature, as he put the whole power of his brain into the corn trade. At the sight of it, the tears, till then kept back, overflowed her eyes, but no one, save perhaps the Englishman, saw them glitter there for a brief moment before they dried upon her pale cheeks. It was her fathers portrait, a miniature which she wore suspended about her neck by a black cord. While she looked, a sudden jolt shook something down upon her knees. dAiglemont looked now and again at her sleeping husband. A later and most difficult effort was to believe that I was Mrs Siddons. I would shriek with laughter which had nothing to do with what was said. I took my meals on the deck crouching like an animal. I secreted my rings and some rubbish, and made signs with a mad face to Mr Lawrence to come and look at the treasure I had hidden. I hope he likes the next one, she said anxiously, whereat Griffin chuckled. In most gardens, the Tiger lily said, they make the beds too soft so that the flowers are always asleep Wilson down the path, if you come home with wet feet into bed you go and stay 'till snow flies. Mind you, his mother admonished as he followed Mrs. No, sirnot another word A pompous butler ushered us severely to the door, and we found ourselves in the street. You can tell your employer, Lord Mount-James, that I do not wish to have anything to do either with him or with his agents. Ll trouble you to walk out of my house, sir, said he. It was the note with which Holmes had decoyed him. As I turned back, my eye caught the pellet of paper which the prisoner had tossed upon the table. We stood at the window and watched the cab drive away. dAiglemont looked updismay and surprise blended in her face. Like it, but I suppose it must be, said I. This is Evelyn Dorr, and Vilette, her sister, Mrs. I defy any of you here fully to account for your persuasion that if a Godexist he must be a more cosmic and tragic personage than that Being. Whatever sort ofa being God may be, we KNOW to-day that he issnevermore that mere external inventor ofcontrivancessintended to make manifest hissglory in which our great-grandfathersstook suchsatisfaction, though just how we know thisswe cannot possibly make clear by wordsseither tootherssor to ourselves. That vastliterature of proofssof God'ssexistence drawn from the order of nature, which a century ago seemedso overwhelmingly convincing, to-day doesslittle more than gather dust in libraries, for the simplereason that our generation hassceased to believe in the kind of God it argued for. Thissinferiority of the rationalistic level in founding beliefissjust assmanifest when rationalism arguessfor religion asswhen it arguessagainst it. Your wholesubconsciousslife, your impulses, your faiths, your needs, your divinations, have prepared thepremises, of which your consciousnesssnow feelssthe weight of the resultand something in youabsolutely KNOWssthat that result must be truer than any logic-chopping rationalistic talk,however clever, that may contradict it. If you have intuitionssat all, they come froma deeper level of your nature than the loquaciousslevel which rationalism inhabits. But it will fail to convince or convert you all the same,if your dumb intuitionssare opposed to itssconclusions. It issthepart that hassthe prestige undoubtedly, for it hassthe loquacity, it can challenge you for proofs, andchop logic, and put you down with words. Nevertheless, if we look on man'sswhole mental life assit exists, on the life of men that liessinthem apart from their learning and science, and that they inwardly and privately follow, we have toconfesssthat the part of it of which rationalism can give an account issrelatively superficial.
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