But, in normal cases, I cannot believe those who assure me
that never, not in a fleeting moment, not in the hours of direst
loneliness and grief, has this murmur of uncertainty breathed upon their
consciousness. I do not understand those men who tell me that the
prospect of the yonder side of death has never tormented them, that the
thought of their own annihilation never disquiets them. For my part I do
not wish to make peace between my heart and my head, between my faith
and my reason--I wish rather that there should be war between them!
In the ninth chapter of the Gospel according to Mark it is related how a
man brought unto Jesus his son who was possessed by a dumb spirit, and
wheresoever the spirit took him it tore him, causing him to foam and
gnash his teeth and pine away, wherefore he sought to bring him to Jesus
that he might cure him. And the Master, impatient of those who sought
only for signs and wonders, exclaimed: "O faithless generation, how long
shall I be with you? how long shall I suffer you? bring him unto me"
(ver. 19), and they brought him unto him. And when the Master saw him
wallowing on the ground, he asked his father how long it was ago since
this had come unto him and the father replied that it was since he was &
child. And Jesus said unto him: "If thou canst believe, all things are
possible to him that believeth" (ver. 23). And then the father of the
epileptic or demoniac uttered these pregnant and immortal words: "Lord,
I believe; help thou mine unbelief!"--_Pisteyo, kyrie, boethei te
hapistia mou_ (ver.
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