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Easier, say the doctors, and better, with all their slaving.
How many, too, disappointed, not being this, can be nothing!
How many more are spoilt for wives by the means to become so,
Spoilt for wives and mothers, and every thing else moreover!
This was the answer that came from the Tutor, the grave man, Adam.
Have you ever, Philip, my boy, looked at it in this way?
When the armies are set in array, and the battle beginning,
Is it well that the soldier whose post is far to the leftward
Say, I will go to the right, it is there I shall do best service?
There is a great Field-Marshal, my friend, who arrays our battalions;
Let us to Providence trust, and abide and work in our stations.
This was the final retort from the eager, impetuous Philip.
I am sorry to say your Providence puzzles me sadly;
Children of circumstance are we to be? you answer, On no wise!
Where does Circumstance end, and Providence where begins it?
In the revolving sphere which is upper, which is under?
What are we to resist, and what are we to be friends with?
If there is battle, 'tis battle by night: I stand in the darkness,
Here in the melée of men, Ionian and Dorian on both sides,
Signal and password known; which is friend and which is foeman?
Is it a friend? I doubt, though he speak with the voice of a brother.
Still you are right, I suppose; you always are, and will be.
Though I mistrust the Field-Marshal, I bow to the duty of order.
Let us all get on as we can, and do what we're meant for,
Or, as is said in your favourite weary old Ethics, our ergon.
Yet is my feeling rather to ask, Where is the battle?
Yes, I could find in my heart to cry, in spite of my Elspie,
O that the armies indeed were arrayed, O joy of the onset,
Sound, thou Trumpet of God, come forth, Great Cause, to array us,
King and leader appear, thy soldiers sorrowing seek thee.
Would that the armies indeed were arrayed, O where is the battle!
Neither battle I see, nor arraying, nor King in Israel,
Only infinite jumble and mess and dislocation,
Backed by a solemn appeal, 'For God's sake do not stir, there!'
Yet you are right, I suppose; if you don't attack my conclusion,
Let us get on as we can, and hunt for and do the ergon.
That isn't likely to be by sitting still, eating and drinking.
Yes, you are right, I dare say, you always were and will be,
And in default of a fight I will put up with peace and Elspie.
These are fragments again without date addressed to Adam.
