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Ranolf and Amohia

III

III.

"One truth we feel is safe at least—that Mind
Was ne'er by Matter compassed—caused—designed;
Or any chance or law, unconscious—thoughtless—blind.
No Logic e'er can prove—no healthy brain
The monstrous opposite can entertain:
Intelligence must have a Cause—'tis plain;
page 54 And so the Mind is framed, it must consent,
That Cause must be itself intelligent

"Nor much avails the talk against 'Design.'
True, to use means, consider and contrive
And step by step slow towards an end to strive,
Has more in it of human than divine:
Yet at one flash to will and have it done,
To make conception and completion one;
Is not this justly to be deemed a sign
Of more—not less—of that peculiar might
Of forethought—adaptation—infinite
Resources in one faculty combined,
Glimpses of which we call, whene'er they shine
In finite creatures, consciousness and mind?

"But if that primal Cause, as means, employ
Growth—progress—evolution, does indeed
This fact, that other of 'design' destroy?
If Clime or outward Circumstance succeed
In forcing life into its myriad Shapes
Of beauty, fitness, symmetry so rare—
Scarce for an instant candid thought escapes
Of that designing mind its former need.
For who gave Circumstance this genius vast.
So wisely to select, extinguish, spare—
Turn out such wond' rous mechanism at last?
Whence the mould's power to shape each cunning cast?
Chance is no Chance that leads to ends as fine
As boundless Skill or Science could design.
'Law;' 'Method'! these still need the Something higher—
Designing Mind and purpose, still require-
page 55 And should you prove the human race began,
Forsooth! in manlike ape, or apelike man,
(Though why the Ape is not advancing now,
Through ages can no hair-breadth's progress show
To higher aims—let those explain who can!)
Are not Man's soaring spirit and its claim,
Its maker, mystery, miracle, the same
As if in that more vulgar conjuring way
He sprang at one great leap from ruddy day?—
Truly, the rudimentary display
In lowlier forms, of organs—powers—we meet
In loftier—of design gives proof complete:
And were, to show design, the thing designed,
How for our finite could that infinite Mind
A more conclusive, clearer method find,
Than thus to let the self-same pathway lead
To his great ends, whereby he had decreed
Our minds designing, should themselves proceed?
And as a Painter somewhere in the dark
Leaves on his pictures his distinctive mark,
Or, haply, best the authorship to tell
Of earlier works that fond in memory dwell,
Might give to quiring Seraphs as they gaze
Enraptured on the beatific blaze
Of present Deity's immediate rays—
Haloed with every heavenly attribute—
Some favourite form of viol, harp, or lute
His less ambitious art had oft bestowed
On blind old Minstrel begging by the road;
Or peasants revelling, rid of creaking drays
And milk-white ox-teams and their latest load,
Last shaking purple hill of vintage-fruit;
page 56 The grand Designer thus, to prove when done
His works harmonious and the Worker one,
Might thus his works initial—thus impress
Ignobler traces of the lower and less
On loftier works of one Almightiness;
And show how such excess of plastic skill
Can with one method—one material still
Stop at the low or reach the high at will