A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY by Edward Payson Roe (world of reading .txt) 📖

Replied haldane With A Glimmer Of A Smile, "I Cannot Account For

Rose-Bugs And A Good Many Worse Things. I Notice, However, That In spite

Of All These Enemies People Manage To Raise A Great Deal That'S Very

Nice Every Year. Suppose We Try It."

 

 

 

They Were Soon At Work, And Haldane Felt The Better For A Few Hours'

Exercise In the Open Air.

 

 

 

The Next Morning Mrs. Arnot Brought Some Papers Which She Said A Legal

Friend Wished copied, And She Left With Them, Inclosed in an Envelope,

Payment In advance. After She Had Gone Haldane Offered the Money To Mr.

Growther, But The Old Man Only Growled:

 

 

 

"Chuck It In a Drawer, And The One Of Us Who Wants It First Can Have

It."

 

 

 

For The Next Two Or Three Weeks Mrs. Arnot, By The Dint Of Considerable

Effort, Kept Up A Supply Of Mss., Of Which Copies Were Required, And She

Supplemented the Prices Which The Parties Concerned were Willing To Pay.

Her Charitable And Helpful Habits Were Well Known To Her Friends, And

They Often Enabled her Thus To Aid Those To Whom She Could Not Give

Money Direct. But This Uncertain Employment Would Soon Fail, And What

Her Protege Was Then To Do She Could Not Foresee. No One Would Trust

Him, And No One Cared to Have Him About His Premises.

 

 

 

But In the Meantime The Young Man Was Thinking Deeply For Himself. He

Soon Concluded not To Make Mr. Growther'S Humble Cottage A Hiding-Place;

And He Commenced walking abroad Through The City After The Work Of The

Day. He Assumed no Bravado, But Went Quietly On His Way Like Any Other

Passer-By. The Majority Of Those Who Knew Who He Was Either Ignored his

Existence, Or Else Looked curiously After Him, But Some Took Pains To

Manifest Their Contempt. He Could Not Have Been More Lonely And Isolated

If He Were Walking a Desert.

 

 

 

Among The Promises He Had Made Mrs. Arnot Was That He Would Attend

Church, And She Naturally Asked him To Come To Her Own.

 

 

 

"As You Feel Toward My Husband, It Will Probably Not Be Pleasant For You

To Come To Our Pew" She Had Said; "But I Hope The Time Will Come When

Bygones Will Be Bygones. The Sexton, However, Will Give You A Seat, And

Our Minister Preaches Excellent Sermons"

 

 

 

Not Long After, True To His Word, The Young Man Went A Little Early, As

He Wished to Be As Unobtrusive As Possible. At The Same Time There Was

Nothing Furtive Or Cringing In his Nature. As He Had Openly Done Wrong,

He Was Now Resolved to Try As Openly To Do Right, And Let People Ascribe

Whatever Motive They Chose.

 

 

 

But His Heart Misgave Him As He Approached the New Elegant Church On The

Most Fashionable Street. He Felt That His Clothes Were Not In keeping

With Either The Place Of Worship Or The Worshippers.

 

 

 

Mr. Arnot'S Confidential Clerk Was Talking With The Sexton As He

Hesitatingly Mounted the Granite Steps, And He Saw That Dignified

Functionary, Who Seemed in some Way Made To Order With The Church Over

Which He Presided, Eye Him Askance While He Lent An Ear To What Was

Evidently A Bit Of His History. Walking Quietly But Firmly Up To The

Official, Haldane Asked:

 

 

 

"Will You Give Me A Seat, Sir?"

 

 

 

The Man Reddened, Frowned, And Then Said:

 

 

 

"Really, Sir, Our Seats Are Generally Taken Sunday Mornings. I Think You

Will Feel More At Home At Our Mission Chapel In guy Street."

 

 

 

"And Among The Guys, Why Don'T You Add?" Retorted haldane, His Old

Spirit Flashing Up, And He Turned on His Heel And Stalked back To Mr.

Growther'S Cottage.

 

 

 

"Short Sermon To-Day," Said The Old Man Starting Out Of A Doze.

 

 

 

Haldane Told Him Of His Reception.

 

 

 

The Wrinkles In the Quaint Visage Of His Host Grew Deep And Complicated,

As Though He Had Tasted something Very Bitter, And He Remarked

Sententiously:

 

 

 

"If Satan Could He'D Pay That Sexton A Whoppin' Sum To Stand At The Door

And Keep Sinners Out."

 

 

 

"No Need of The Devil Paying Him Anything; The Well-Dressed christians

See To That. As I Promised mrs. Arnot To Come, I Tried to Keep My Word,

But This Flunky'S Face And Manner Alone Are Enough To Turn Away Such As

I Am. None But The Eminently Respectable Need apply At That Gate Of

Heaven. If It Were Not For Mrs. Arnot I Would Believe The Whole Thing a

Farce."

 

 

 

"Is Jesus Christ A Farce?" Asked the Practical Mr. Growther, Testily.

"What Is The Use Of Jumping Five Hundred miles From The Truth Because

You'Ve Happened to Run Afoul Of Some Of Those Pharisees That He Cussed?"

 

 

 

Haldane Laughed and Said, "You Have A Matter-Of-Fact Way Of Putting

Things That There Is No Escaping. It Will, Probably, Do Me More Good To

Stay Home And Read The Bible To You Than To Be At Church."

 

 

 

The Confidential Clerk, Who Had Remained gossiping In the Vestibule,

Thought The Scene He Had Witnessed worth Mentioning To His Employer, Who

Entered with Mrs. Arnot Not Very Long After, And Lingered for A Word Or

Two. The Man Of Business Smiled grimly, And Passed on. He Usually

Attended church Once A Day, Partly From Habit And Partly Because It Was

The Respectable Thing To Do. He Had Been Known To Remark That He Never

Lost Anything By It, For Some Of His Most Successful Moves Suggested

Themselves To His Mind During The Monotony Of The Service.

 

 

 

To Annoy His Wife, And Also To Gratify A Disposition To Sneer At The

Faults Of Christians, Mr. Arnot, At The Dinner, Commenced to Commend

Ironically The Sexton'S Course.

 

 

 

"A Most Judicious Man!" He Affirmed. "Saint Peter Himself At The Gate

Could Not More Accurately Strain Out The Saints From The Sinners--Nay,

He Is Even Keener-Eyed than Saint Peter, For He Can Tell First-Class

From Second-Class Saints. Though Our Church Is Not Full, I Now

Understand Why We Have A Mission Chapel. You May Trust 'Jeems' To Keep

Out All But The Very First-Class--Those Who Can Exchange Silk And

Broadcloth For The White Robe. But What On Earth Could Have Brought

About Such A Speedy Transition From Jail To Church On The Part Of

Haldane?"

 

 

 

"I Invited him," Said Mrs. Arnot, In a Pained tone; "But I Did Not Think

It Would Be To Meet With Insult"

 

 

 

"Insult! Quite The Reverse. I Should Think That Such As He Ought To Feel

It An Honor To Be Permitted a Place Among The Second-Class Saints."

 

 

 

Mrs. Arnot'S Thoughts Were Very Busy That Afternoon. She Was Not By

Nature An Innovator, And, Indeed, Was Inclined to Accept The Established

Order Of Things Without Very Close Questioning. Her Christian Life Had

Been Developed chiefly By Circumstances Purely Personal, And She Had

Unconsciously Found Walks Of Usefulness Apart From The Organized church

Work. But She Was A Devout Worshipper And A Careful Listener To The

Truth. It Had Been Her Custom To Ride To The Morning Service, And, As

They Resided some Distance From The Church, To Remain At Home In the

Evening, Giving all In her Employ A Chance To Go Out.

 

 

 

Concerning The Financial Affairs Of The Church She Was Kept Well

Informed, For She Was A Liberal Contributor, And Also To All Other Good

Causes Presented. From Earliest Years Her Eye Had Always Been Accustomed

To The Phases Presented by A Fashionable Church, And Everything Moved

Forward So Quietly And With Such Sacred decorum That The Thought Of

Anything Wrong Did Not Occur To Her.

 

 

 

But The Truth That One Who Was Endeavoring To Lead A Better Life Had

Been Practically Turned from The Door Of God'S House Seemed to Her A

Monstrous Thing. How Much Truth Was There In her Husband'S Sarcasm? How

Far Did Her Church Represent The Accessible Jesus Of Nazareth, To Whom

All Were Welcomed, Or How Far Did It Misrepresent Him? Now That Her

Attention Was Called to The Fact, She Remembered that The Congregation

Was Chiefly Made Up Of The _Elite_ Of The City, And That She Rarely

Had Seen Any One Present Who Did Not Clearly Present The Fullest

Evidence Of Respectability. Were Those Whom The Master Most Emphatically

Came To Seek And Save Excluded? She Determined to Find Out Speedily.

 

 

 

Summoning Her Coachman, She Told Him That She Wished to Attend Church

That Evening. She Dressed herself Very Plainly, And Entered the Church

Closely Veiled. Instead Of Going To Her Own Pew, She Asked the Judicious

And Discriminating Sexton For A Seat. After A Careless Glance He Pointed

To One Of The Seats Near The Door, And Turned his Back Upon Her. A

Richly Dressed lady And Gentleman Entered soon After, And He Was All

Attention, Marshalling Them Up The Aisle Into Mrs. Arnot'S Own Pew,

Since It Was Known She Did Not Occupy It In the Evening. A Few Decent,

Plain-Looking Women, Evidently Sent Thither By The Wealthy Families In

Whose Employ They Were, Came In hesitatingly, And Those Who Did Not Take

Seats Near The Entrance, As A Matter Of Course, Were Motioned thither

Without Ceremony. The Audience Room Was But Sparsely Filled, Large

Families Being Represented by One Or Two Members Or Not At All. But Mrs.

Arnot Saw None Of Haldane'S Class Present--None Who Looked as If They

Were In danger, And Needed a Kind, Strong, Rescuing Hand--None Who

Looked hungry And Athirst For Truth Because Perishing For Its Lack. In

That Elegant And Eminently Respectable Place, Upholstered and Decorated

With Faultless Taste, There Was Not A Hint Of Publicans And Sinners. One

Might Suppose He Was In the Midst Of The Millennium, And That The

Classes To Whom Christ Preached had All Become So Thoroughly Converted

That They Did Not Even Need to Attend Church. There Was Not A Suggestion

Of The Fact That But A Few Blocks Away Enough To Fill The Empty Pews

Were Living Worse Than Heathen Lives.

 

 

 

The Choir Performed their Part Melodiously, And A Master In music Could

Have Found No Fault With The Technical Rendering Of The Musical Score.

They Were Paid To Sing, And They Gave To Such Of Their Employers As

Cared to Be Present Every Note As It Was Written, In its Full Value. As

Never Before, It Struck Mrs. Arnot As A Performance. The Service She Had

Attended hitherto Was Partly The Creation Of Her Own Earnest And

Devotional Spirit. To-Night She Was Learning To Know The Service As It

Really Existed.

 

 

 

The Minister Was Evidently A Conscientious Man, For He Had Prepared his

Evening Discourse For His Thin Audience As Thoroughly As He Had His

Morning Sermon. Every Word Was Carefully Written Down, And The Thought

Of The Text Was Exhaustively Developed. But Mrs. Arnot Was Too Far Back

To Hear Well. The Poor Man Seemed weary And Discouraged with The Arid

Wastes Of Empty Seats Over Which He Must Scatter The Seeds Of Truth To

No Purpose. He Looked dim And Ghostly In the Far-Away Pulpit, And In

Spite Of Herself His Sermon Began To Have The Aspect Of A Paid

Performance, The Effect Of Which Would Scarcely Be More Appreciable Than

The Sighing Of The Wind Without. The Keenest Theologian Could Not Detect

The Deviation Of A Hair From The Received orthodox Views, And The

Majority Present Were Evidently Satisfied that His Views Would Be

Correct, For They Did Not Give Very Close Attention. The Few Plain

Domestics Near Her Dozed and Nodded through The Hour, And So Gained some

Physical Preparation For The Toils Of The Week, But Their Spiritual

Natures Were As Clearly Dormant As Their Lumpish Bodies.

 

 

 

After The Service Mrs. Arnot Lingered, To See If Any One Would Speak To

Her As A Stranger And Ask Her To Come Again. Such Was Clearly Not The

Habit Of The Congregation. She Felt That Her Black Veil, An Evidence Of

Sorrow, Was A Sort Of Signal Of Distress Which Ought To Have Lured some

One To Her Side With A Kind Word Or Two, But Beyond A Few Curious

Glances She Was Unnoticed. People Spoke Who Were Acquainted, Who Had

Been Introduced to Each Other. As The Worshippers (?) Hastened out, Glad

To Escape To Regions Where Living Questions And Interests Existed, The

Sexton, Who Had Been Dozing In a Comfortable Corner, Bustled to The Far

End Of The Church, And Commenced, With An Assistant, Turning Out The

Lights On Either Side So Rapidly That It Seemed as If A Wave Of Darkness

Was Following Those Who Had Come Thither Ostensibly Seeking Light.

 

 

 

Mrs. Arnot Hastened to Her Carriage, Where It Stood Under The Obscuring

Shadow Of A Tree, And Was Driven Home Sad And Indignant--Most Indignant

At Herself That She Had Been So Absorbed in her Own Thoughts And Life

That She Had Not Discovered that The Church To Build And Sustain Which

She Had Given So Liberally Was Scarcely Better Than A Costly

Refrigerator.