A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY - Edward Payson Roe (best color ebook reader TXT) 📗

System Forgot Dr. Barstow, And Felt For

The Moment That They Had A Controversy With His Master.

 

 

 

The Congregation Broke Up In a Quiet And Subdued manner. All Were Too

Deeply Impressed by What They Had Heard To Be In a Mood For Talking as

Yet; And Of The Majority, It Should Be Said In justice That, Conscious

Of Wrong, They Were Honestly Desirous Of A Change For The Better.

 

 

 

During The Sermon Mr. Growther'S Quaint And Wrinkled visage Had Worked

Most Curiously, And There Were Times When He With Difficulty Refrained

From A Hearty Though Rather Profane Indorsement.

 

 

 

On His Way Home He Said To Haldane, "I'Ve Lived like A Heathen On Lord'S

Day And All Days; But, By The Holy Poker, I'Ll Hear That Parson

Hereafter Every Sunday, Rain Or Shine, If I Have To Fight My Way Into

The Church With A Club."

 

 

 

A Peculiar Fire Burned in the Young Man'S Eyes And His Lips Were Very

Firm, But He Made No Reply. The Man Whose Portraiture He Had Beheld That

Day Was A Revelation, And He Hoped that This Divine Yet Human Friend

Might Make A Man Of Him.

 

 

 

"Well," Remarked mr. Arnot, Sententiously, "That Sermon Was A Perfect

Bombshell; And, Mark My Words, It Will Either Blow The Doctor Out Of His

Pulpit, Or Some Of The First-Class Saints Out Of Their Pews."

 

 

 

But A Serene And Hopeful Light Shone From Mrs. Arnot'S Eyes, And She

Only Said, In a Low Tone:

 

 

 

"The Lord Is In his Holy Temple."

 

 

Chapter XXXVI (Mr. Growther Feeds An Ancient Grudge)

The Problem In regard To The Future Of St. Paul'S Church, Which Had So

Greatly Burdened dr. Barstow, Was Substantially Solved. Christ Had

Obtained control Of The Preacher'S Heart, And Henceforth Would Not Be A

Dogma, But A Living Presence, In his Sermons. The Pharisees Of Old Could

Not Keep The Multitudes From Him, Though Their Motives For Following Him

Were Often Very Mixed. Although The Philosophical Christ Of Theology,

Whom Dr. Barstow Had Ably Preached, Could Not Change The Atmosphere Of

St. Paul'S, The Christ Of The Bible, The Man Of Sorrows, The Meek And

Lowly Nazarene, Could, And The Masses Would Be Tempted to Feel That They

Had A Better Right In a Place Sacred to His Worship Than Those Who

Resembled him In spirit As Little As They Did In the Pomp Of Their Life.

 

 

 

There Would Be Friction At First, And Some Serious Trouble. Mr. Arnot'S

Judgment Was Correct, And Some Of The "First-Class Saints" (In Their Own

Estimation) Would Be "Blown Out Of Their Pews." St. Paul'S Would

Eventually Cease To Be _The_ Fashionable Church _Par Excellence_;

And This Fact Alone Would Be Good And Sufficient Reason For A Change On

The Part Of Some Who Intend To Be Select In their Associations On Earth,

Whatever Relations With The "Mixed multitude" They May Have To Endure In

Heaven. But The Warm-Hearted and True-Hearted would Remain; And Every

Church Grows Stronger As The Pharisees Depart And The Publicans And

Sinners Enter.

 

 

 

The Congregation That Gathered at The Evening Service Of The Memorable

Sabbath Described in the Previous Chapter Was Prophetic. Many Of The

Wealthy And Aristocratic Members Were Absent, Either From Habit Or

Disgust. Haldane, Mr. Growther, And Many Who In some Respects Resembled

Them, Were Present. "Jeems," The Discriminating Sexton, Had Sagaciously

Guessed that The Wind Was About To Blow From Another Quarter, And Was

Veering around Also, As Fast As He Deemed it Prudent. "Ordinary Pussons"

Received more Than Ordinary Attention, And Were Placed within Earshot Of

The Speaker.

 

 

 

But The Problem Of Poor Haldane'S Future Was Not Clear By Any Means. It

Is True A Desire To Live A Noble Life Had Been Kindled in his Heart, But

As Yet It Was Little More Than A Good Impulse, An Aspiration. In the

Fact That His Eyes Had Been Turned questioningly And Hopefully Toward

The Only One Who Has Ever Been Able To Cope With The Mystery Of Evil,

There Was Rich Promise; But Just What This Divine Friend Could Do For

Him He Understood As Little As Did The Fishermen Of Galilee. They Looked

For Temporal Change And Glory; He Was Looking For Some Vague And

Marvellous Change And Exaltation.

 

 

 

But The Sabbath Passed, And He Remained his Old Self. Hoping, Longing

For The Change Did Not Produce It.

 

 

 

It Was One Of Mr. Growther'S Peculiarities To Have A Fire Upon The

Hearth Even When The Evenings Were So Warm As Not To Require It. "Might

As Well Kinder Git Ourselves Used to Heat," He Would Growl When Haldane

Remonstrated.

 

 

 

After The Evening Service They Both Lowered at The Fire For Some Time In

Silence.

 

 

 

"Except Ye Be Converted, And Become As Little Children, Ye Shall Not

Enter Into The Kingdom Of Heaven," Had Been Dr. Barstow'S Text; And, As

Is Usually The Case, The Necessity Of Conversion Had Been Made Clearer

Than Just What Conversion Is; And Many More Than The Disquieted

Occupants Of The Quaint Old Kitchen Had Been Sent Home Sorely Perplexed

How To Set About The Simple Task Of "Believing." But It Was A Happy

Thing For All That They Had Been Awakened to The Fact That Something

Must Be Done. After That Sermon None Could Delude Themselves With The

Hope That Being Decorous, Well-Dressed worshippers At St. Paul'S Would

Be All That Was Required.

 

 

 

But Mr. Growther Needed no Argument On This Subject, And He Had Long

Believed that His Only Chance Was, As He Expressed it, "Such An

Out-And-Out Shakin' To Pieces, And Makin' Over Agin That I Wouldn'T Know

Myself." Then He Would Rub His Rheumatic Legs Despondently And Add, "But

My Speretual J'Ints Have Got As Stiff And Dry As These Old Walkin' Pins;

And When I Try To Git Up Some Good Sort O' Feelin' It'S Like Pumpin' Of

A Dry Pump. I Only Feel Real Hearty When I'M A Cussin'. A-A-H!"

 

 

 

But The Day'S Experience And Teaching Had Awakened anew In his Breast,

As Truly As In haldane'S, The Wish That He Could Be Converted, Whatever

That Blessed and Mysterious Change Might Be; And So, With His Wrinkled

Face Seamed with Deeper And More Complex Lines Than Usual, The Poor Old

Soul Stared at The Fire, Which Was At Once The Chief Source Of His

Comfort And The Emblem Of That Which He Most Dreaded. At Last He

Snarled:

 

 

 

"I'M A Blasted old Fool For Goin' To Meetin' And Gittin' All Riled up

So. Here, I Haven'T Had A Comfortable Doze Today, And I Shall Be Kickin'

Around All Night With Nothin' Runnin' In my Head But 'Except Ye Be

Convarted, Except Ye Be Convarted'; I Wish I Had As Good A Chance Of

Bein' Convarted as I Have Of Bein' Struck By Lightnin'."

 

 

 

"I Wish I Needed conversion As Little As You," Said Haldane

Despondently.

 

 

 

"Now Look Here," Snapped the Old Man; "I'M In no Mood For Any Nonsense

To-Night. I Want You To Know I Never Have Been Convarted, And I Can

Prove It To You Plaguy Quick If You Stroke Me Agin The Fur. You'Ve Got

The Advantage Of Me In this Business, Though You Have Been A Hard Cuss;

For You Are Young And Kind O' Limber Yet." Then, As He Glanced at The

Discouraged youth, His Manner Changed, And In a Tone That Was Meant To

Be Kindly He Added, "There, There! Why Don'T You Pluck Up Heart? If I

Was As Young As You Be, I'D Get Convarted if It Took Me All Summer."

 

 

 

Haldane Shook His Head, And After A Moment Slowly And Musingly Said, As

Much To Himself As To The Giver Of This Good Advice:

 

 

 

"I'M In the Slough Of Despond, And I Don'T Know How To Get Out. I Can

See The Sunny Uplands That I Long To Reach, But Everything Is Quaking

And Giving Way Under My Feet. After Listening To Dr. Barstow'S Grand

Sermon This Morning, My Spirit Flamed up Hopefully. Now He Has Placed a

Duty Directly In my Path That I Cannot Perform By Myself. Mrs. Arnot Has

Made It Clear To Me That The Manhood I Need is Christian Manhood. Dr.

Barstow Proves Out Of The Bible That The First Step Toward This Is

Conversion--Which Seems To Be A Mysterious Change Which I But Vaguely

Understand. I Must Do My Part Myself, He Says, Yet I Am Wholly Dependent

On The Will And Co-Operation Of Another. Just What Am I To Do? Just When

And How Will The Help Come In? How Can I Know That It Will Come? Or How

Can I Ever Be Sure That I Have Been Converted?"

 

 

 

"O, Stop Splittin' Hairs!" Said Mr. Growther, Testily. "Hanged if I Can

Tell You How It'S All Goin' To Be Brought About--Go Ask The Parson To

Clear Up These P'Ints For You--But I Can Tell You This Much: When You

Git Convarted you'Ll Know It. If You Had A Ragin' Toothache, And It

Suddenly Stopped and You Felt Comfortable All Over, Wouldn'T You Know

It? But That Don'T Express It. You'D Feel More'N Comfortable; You'D Feel

So Good You Couldn'T Hold In. You'D Be Fur Shoutin'; You Wouldn'T Know

Yourself. Why, Doesn'T The Bible Say You'D Be A New Critter? There'Ll Be

Just Such A Change In your Heart As There Is In this Old Kitchen When We

Come In on A Cold, Dark Night And Light The Candles, And Kindle A Fire.

I Tell You What 'Tis, Young Man, If You Once Got Convarted your Troubles

Would Be Wellnigh Over."

 

 

 

Though The Picture Of This Possible Future Was Drawn In such Homely

Lines, Haldane Looked at It With Wistful Eyes. He Had Become Accustomed

To His Benefactor'S Odd Ways And Words, And Caught His Sense Beneath The

Grotesque Imagery. As He Was Then Situated, The Future Drawn By The Old

Man And Interpreted by Himself Was Peculiarly Attractive. He Was Very

Miserable, And It Is Most Natural, Especially For The Young, To Wish To

Be Happy. He Had Been Led to Believe That Conversion Would Lead To A

Happiness As Great As It Was Mysterious--A Sort Of Miraculous Ecstasy,

That Would Render Him Oblivious Of The Hard And Prosaic Conditions Of

His Lot. Through Misfortune And His Own Fault He Possessed a Very

Defective Character. This Character Had Been Formed, It Is True, By

Years Of Self-Indulgence And Wrong, And Mrs. Arnot Had Asserted that

Reform Would Require Long, Patient, And Heroic Effort. Indeed, She Had

Suggested that In fighting and Subduing The Evils Of One'S Own Nature A

Man Attained the Noblest Degree Of Knighthood. He Had Already Learned

How Severe Was The Conflict In which He Had Been Led to Engage.

 

 

 

But Might Not This Mysterious Conversion Make Things Infinitely Easier?

If A Great And Radical Change Were Suddenly Wrought In his Moral Nature,

Would Not Evil Appetites And Propensities Be Uprooted like Vile Weeds?

If A "New Heart" Were Given Him, Would Not The Thoughts And Desires

Flowing From It Be Like Pure Water From An Unsullied spring? After The

"Old Things"--That Is The Evil--Had Passed away, Would Not That Which

Was Noble And Good Spring Up Naturally, And Almost Spontaneously?

 

 

 

This Was Mr. Growther'S View; And He Had Long Since Learned that The Old

Man'S Opinions Were Sound On Most Questions. This Seemed, Moreover, The

Teaching Of The Bible Also, And Of Such Sermons As He Could Recall. And

Yet It Caused him Some Misgivings That Mrs. Arnot Had Not Indicated more

Clearly This Short-Cut Out Of His Difficulties.

 

 

 

But Mr. Growther'S Theology Carried the Day. As He Watched the Young

Man'S Thoughtful Face He Thought The Occasion Ripe For The "Word In

Season."

 

 

 

"Now Is The Time," He Said; "Now While Yer Moral J'Ints Is Limber.

What'S The Use Of Climbin' The Mountain On Your Hands And Knees When You

Can Go Up In a Chariot Of Fire, If You Can Only Git In it?" And He

Talked and Urged so Earnestly That Haldane Smiled and Said:

 

 

 

"Mr. Growther, You Have Mistaken Your Vocation. You Ought To Have Been A

Missionary To The Heathen."

 

 

 

"That Would Be Sendin' A Thief To Ketch A Thief. But You Know I'Ve A

Grudge Agin The Devil, If I Do Belong To