Paul Faber, Surgeon | Page 4

we have testimony, he replied it was not credible testimony, but

founded on such experiences as he was justified in considering
imaginary, seeing they were like none he had ever had himself. When
he was asked whether, while he yet believed there was such a being as
his mother told him of, he had ever set himself to act upon that belief,
he asserted himself fortunate in the omission of what might have
riveted on him the fetters of a degrading faith. For years he had turned
his face toward all speculation favoring the non-existence of a creating
Will, his back toward all tending to show that such a one might be.
Argument on the latter side he set down as born of prejudice, and
appealing to weakness; on the other, as springing from courage, and
appealing to honesty. He had never put it to himself which would be
the worse deception--to believe there was a God when there was none;
or to believe there was no God when there was one.
He had, however, a large share of the lower but equally indispensable
half of religion--that, namely, which has respect to one's fellows. Not a
man in Glaston was readier, by day or by night, to run to the help of
another, and that not merely in his professional capacity, but as a
neighbor, whatever the sort of help was needed.
Thomas Wingfold, the curate, had a great respect for him. Having
himself passed through many phases of serious, and therefore painful
doubt, he was not as much shocked by the surgeon's unbelief as some
whose real faith was even less than Faber's; but he seldom laid himself
out to answer his objections. He sought rather, but as yet apparently in
vain, to cause the roots of those very objections to strike into, and thus
disclose to the man himself, the deeper strata of his being. This might
indeed at first only render him the more earnest in his denials, but at
length it would probably rouse in him that spiritual nature to which
alone such questions really belong, and which alone is capable of
coping with them. The first notable result, however, of the surgeon's
intercourse with the curate was, that, whereas he had till then kept his
opinions to himself in the presence of those who did not sympathize
with them, he now uttered his disbelief with such plainness as I have
shown him using toward the rector. This did not come of aggravated
antagonism, but of admiration of the curate's openness in the
presentment of truths which must be unacceptable to the majority of his
congregation.
There had arisen therefore betwixt the doctor and the curate a certain

sort of intimacy, which had at length come to the rector's ears. He had,
no doubt, before this heard many complaints against the latter, but he
had laughed them aside. No theologian himself, he had found the
questions hitherto raised in respect of Wingfold's teaching, altogether
beyond the pale of his interest. He could not comprehend why people
should not content themselves with being good Christians, minding
their own affairs, going to church, and so feeling safe for the next world.
What did opinion matter as long as they were good Christians? He did
not exactly know what he believed himself, but he hoped he was none
the less of a Christian for that! Was it not enough to hold fast whatever
lay in the apostles', the Nicene, and the Athanasian creed, without
splitting metaphysical hairs with your neighbor? But was it decent that
his curate should be hand and glove with one who denied the existence
of God? He did not for a moment doubt the faith of Wingfold; but a
man must have some respect for appearances: appearances were facts
as well as realities were facts. An honest man must not keep company
with a thief, if he would escape the judgment of being of thievish kind.
Something must be done; probably something said would be enough,
and the rector was now on his way to say it.

CHAPTER II
.
THE MINISTER'S DOOR.
Every body knew Mr. Faber, whether he rode Ruber or Niger--Rubber
and Nigger, his groom called them--and many were the greetings that
met him as he passed along Pine Street, for, despite the brand of his
atheism, he was popular. The few ladies out shopping bowed
graciously, for both his manners and person were pleasing, and his
professional attentions were unexceptionable. When he dropped into a
quick walk, to let Ruber cool a little ere he reached his stall, he was
several times accosted and detained. The last who addressed him was
Mr. Drew, the principal draper of the town. He had been standing for
some time in his shop-door, but as Faber