Sermons Preached at Brighton: Third SeriesRobertson, Frederick William
Religion
Sermons Preached at Brighton: Third Series
Robertson, Frederick William
Church of England -- Sermons; Sermons, English -- 19th century
2. This non-fulfilment of promise fulfils it in a _deeper_ way. The
account we have given already, were it to end there, would be
insufficient to excuse the failure of life's promise; by saying that
it allures us would be really to charge God with deception. Now life
is not deception, but illusion. We distinguish between illusion and
delusion. We may paint wood so as to be taken for stone, iron, or
marble; this is delusion: but you may paint a picture, in which rocks,
trees, and sky are never mistaken for what they seem, yet produce all
the emotion which real rocks, trees, and sky would produce. This is
illusion, and this is the painter's art: never for one moment to
deceive by attempted imitation, but to produce a mental state in which
the feelings are suggested which the natural objects themselves would
create. Let us take an instance drawn from life.
To a child a rainbow is a real thing--substantial and palpable; its
limb rests on the side of yonder hill; he believes that he can
appropriate it to himself; and when, instead of gems and gold hid in
its radiant bow, he finds nothing but damp mist--cold, dreary drops of
disappointment--that disappointment tells that his belief has been
delusion.
To the educated man that bow is a blessed illusion, yet it never once
deceives; he does not take it for what it is not, he does not expect
to make it his own; he feels its beauty as much as the child could
feel it, nay infinitely more--more even from the fact that he knows
that it will be transient; but besides and beyond this, to him it
presents a deeper loveliness; he knows the laws of light, and the laws
of the human soul which gave it being. He has linked it with the laws
of the universe, and with the invisible mind of God; and it brings to
him a thrill of awe, and the sense of a mysterious, nameless beauty,
of which the child did not conceive. It is illusion still; but it has
fulfilled the promise. In the realm of spirit, in the temple of the
soul, it is the same. All is illusion; "but we look for a city which
hath foundations;" and in this the promise is fulfilled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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