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

Him; And If I Could Help Git

You Out Of His Clutches It Would Do Me A Sight O' Good."

 

 

 

"If I Ever Do Get Out I Shall Indeed have To Thank You."

 

 

 

"I Don'T Want No Thanks, And Don'T Desarve Any. You'Re Only Giving Me A

Chance To Hit The Adversary 'Twixt The Eyes," And The Old Man Added his

Characteristic "A-A-H!" In an Emphatic And Vengeful Manner, As If He

Would Like To Hit Very Hard.

 

 

 

Human Nature Was On The Side Of Mr. Growther'S View Of Conversion.

Nothing Is More Common Than The Delusive Hope That Health, Shattered by

Years Of Wilful Wrong, Can Be Regained by The Use Of Some Highly

Extolled drug, Or By A Few Deep Draughts From Some Far-Famed spring.

 

 

 

Haldane Retired to Rest Fully Bent Upon Securing This Vague And Mighty

Change As Speedily As Possible.

 

 

Chapter XXXVII (Hoping For A Miracle)

Mr. Ivison, Haldane'S Employer, Was A Worshipper At St. Paul'S, And,

Like Many Others, Had Been Deeply Impressed by The Sermon. Its Influence

Had Not Wholly Exhaled by Monday, And, As This Gentleman Was Eminently

Practical, He Felt That He Ought To Do Something, As Well As Experience

A Little Emotion. Thus He Was Led to Address The Following Note To

Haldane:

 

 

 

Last Week I Gave You A Chance; This Week I Am Induced to Give You A Good

Word. While I Warn You That I Will Tolerate No Weak Dallying With Your

Old Temptations, I Also Tell You That I Would Like To See You Make A Man

Of Yourself, Or, More Correctly, Perhaps, As Dr. Barstow Would Express

It, Be Made A Man Of. If One Wants To Do Right, I Believe There Is Help

For Him (Go And Ask The Rev. Dr. Barstow About This); And If You Will Go

Right Straight Ahead Till I See You Can Be Depended upon, I Will

Continue To Speak Good Words To You And For You, And Perhaps Do More.

George Ivison.

 

 

 

This Note Greatly Encouraged haldane, And Made His Precarious Foothold

Among The World'S Industries Seem More Firm And Certain. The Danger Of

Being Swept Back Into The Deep Water Where Those Struggle Who Have No

Foothold, No Work, No Place In society Would Not Come From The Caprice

Or Forgetfulness Of His Employer, But From His Own Peculiar Temptations

And Weaknesses. If He Could Patiently Do His Duty In his Present Humble

Position, He Justly Believed that It Would Be The Stepping-Stone To

Something Better. But, Having Learned to Know Himself, He Was Afraid Of

Himself; And He Had Seen With An Infinite Dread What Cold, Dark Depths

Yawn About One Whom Society Shakes Off As A Vile And Venomous Thing, And

Who Must Eventually Take Evil And Its Consequences As His Only Portion.

The Hot, Reeking apartment Wherein He Toiled was The First Solid Ground

That He Had Felt Beneath His Feet For Many Days. If He Could Hold That

Footing, The Water Might Shoal So That He Could Reach The Land. It Is

True He Could Always Look To His Mother For Food And Clothing If He

Would Comply With Her Conditions. But, Greatly Perverted as His Nature

Had Been, Food And Clothing, The Maintenance Of A Merely Animal Life,

Could No Longer Satisfy Him. He Had Thought Too Deeply, And Had Seen Too

Much Truth, To Feed contentedly Among The Swine.

 

 

 

But The Temptations Which Eventually Lead To The Swine--Could He

Persistently Resist These? Could He Maintain A Hard, Monotonous Routine

Of Toil, With No Excitements, No Pleasures, With Nothing That Even

Approached happiness? He Dared not Give Way; He Doubted his Strength To

Go Forward Alone With Such A Prospect. If Conversion Be A Blessed

Miracle By Which A Debased nature Is Suddenly Lifted up, And A Harsh,

Lead-Colored, Prosaic World Transfigured into The Vestibule Of Heaven,

He Longed to Witness It In his Own Experience.

 

 

 

It Was While He Was In this Mood That His Thoughts Recurred to Dr.

Marks, The Good Old Clergyman Who Had Been The Subject Of His Rude,

Practical Joke Months Before. He Recalled the Sincere, Frank Letter

Which Led to Their Evening Interview, And Remembered with A Thrill Of

Hope The Strong And Mysterious Emotion That Had Seized upon Him As The

Venerable Man Took His Hand In his Warm Grasp, And Said In tones Of

Pathos That Shook His Soul, "I Wish I Could Lead You By Loving Force

Into The Paths Of Pleasantness And Peace." Wild And Reckless Fool As He

Then Was, It Had Been Only By A Decided effort And Abrupt Departure That

He Had Escaped the Heavenly Influences Which Seemed to Brood In the

Quiet Study Where The Good Man Prayed and Spun The Meshes Of The Nets

Which He Daily Cast For Souls. If He Could Visit That Study Again With A

Receptive Heart, Might Not The Emotion That He Bad Formerly Resisted

Rise Like A Flood, And Sweep Away His Old Miserable Self, And He Become

In Truth A "New Creature"?

 

 

 

The Thought, Having Been Once Entertained, Speedily Grew Into A Hope,

And Then Became Almost A Certainty. He Felt That He Would Much Rather

See Dr. Marks Than Dr. Barstow, And That If He Could Feel That Kind,

Warm Grasp Again, An Impulse Might Be Given Him Which Even Mrs. Arnot'S

Wise And Gentle Words Could Not Inspire.

 

 

 

Before The Week Was Over He Felt That Something Must Be Done Either To

Soften His Hard Lot Or To Give Him Strength To Endure It.

 

 

 

The Men, Boys, And Girls Who Worked at His Side In the Mill Were In

Their Natures Like Their Garb, Coarse And Soiled. They Resented the

Presence Of Haldane For A Twofold Reason; They Regarded the Intrusion Of

A "Jail-Bird" Among Them In the Light Of An Insult; They Were Still More

Annoyed, And Perplexed also, That This Disreputable Character Made Them

Feel That He Was Their Superior. Hence A System Of Petty Persecution

Grew Up. Epithets Were Flung At Him, And Practical Jokes Played upon Him

Till His Heart Boiled with Anger Or His Nerves Were Irritated to The

Last Degree Of Endurance. More Than Once His Fist Was Clenched to

Strike; But He Remembered in time That The Heavier The Blow He Struck,

The More Disastrously It Would React Against Himself.

 

 

 

After The Exasperating Experiences And Noise Of The Day, Mr. Growther'S

Cottage Was Not The Quiet Refuge He Needed. Mr. Growther'S Growl Was

Chronic, And It Rasped on Haldane'S Overstrained nerves Like The Filing

Of A Saw. Dr. Barstow'S Sermons Of The Previous Sabbath Had Emphatically

"Riled" The Old Gentleman, And Their Only Result, Apparently, Was To

Make Him More Out-Of-Sorts And Vindictive Toward His Poor, Miserable

Little Self Than Ever. He Was So Irascible That Even The Comfortable Cat

And Dog Became Aware That Something Unusual Was Amiss, And, Instead Of

Dozing Securely, They Learned to Keep A Wary And Deprecatory Eye On

Their Master And The Toes Of His Thick-Soled slippers.

 

 

 

"I'Ve Been Goin' On Like A Darned old Porkerpine," He Said To Haldane

One Evening," And If You Don'T Git Convarted soon You'D Better Git Out

Of

My Way. If You Was As Meek As Moses And Twice As Good You Couldn'T Stand

Me Much Longer;" And The Poor Fellow Felt That There Was Considerable

Truth In the Remark.

 

 

 

The Mill Closed at An Earlier Hour On Saturday Afternoon, And He

Determined to Visit Dr. Marks If He Could Obtain Permission From His

Employer To Be Absent A Few Hours On Monday Morning. He Wrote A Note To

Mr. Ivison, Cordially Thanking Him For His Encouraging Words, But

Adding, Frankly, That He Could Make No Promises In regard To Himself.

"All That I Can Say, Is," He Wrote, "That I Am Trying To Do Right Now,

And That I Am Grateful To You For The Chance You Have Given Me. I Wish

To Get The 'Help' You Suggest In your Note To Me, But, In memory Of

Certain Relations To My Old Pastor, Dr. Marks, I Would Rather See Him

Than Dr. Barstow, And If You Will Permit Me To Be Absent A Part Of Next

Monday Forenoon I Will Esteem It A Great Favor, And Will Trespass On

Your Kindness No Further. I Can Go After Mill-Hours On Saturday, And

Will Return By The First Train On Monday."

 

 

 

Mr. Ivison Readily Granted the Request, And Even Became Somewhat Curious

As To The Result.

 

 

 

When Mrs. Arnot Had Learned from Haldane The Nature Of His Present

Employment, She Had Experienced both Pleasure And Misgivings. That He

Was Willing To Take And Try To Do Such Work Rather Than Remain Idle, Or

Take What He Felt Would Be Charity, Proved that There Was More Good

Metal In his Composition Than She Had Even Hoped; But She Naturally Felt

That The Stinging annoyances Of His Position Would Soon Become

Intolerable. She Was Not Surprised, Although She Was Somewhat Perplexed,

At The Receipt Of The Following Letter:

 

 

 

My Dear Mrs. Arnot.--You Have Been Such A True, Kind Friend To Me, And

Have Shown So Much Interest In my Welfare, That I Am Led to Give You A

Fuller Insight Into My Present Experiences And Hopes. You Know That I

Wish To Be A Christian. You Have Made Christian Manhood Seem The Most

Desirable Thing That I Can Ever Possess, But I Make Little Or No

Progress Toward It. Something Must Be Done, And Quickly Too. Either

There Must Be A Great Change In me, Or Else In my Circumstances. As

There Is No Immediate Prospect Of The Latter, I Have Been Led to Hope

That There Can Be Such A Change In me That I Shall Be Lifted above And

Made Superior To The Exasperating annoyances Of My Condition. Yes, I Am

Hoping Even Far More. If I Could Only Experience The Marvellous Change

Which Dr. Barstow Described so Eloquently Last Sunday Evening, Might I

Not Do Right Easily And Almost Spontaneously? It Is So Desperately Hard

To Do Right Now! If Conversion Will Render My Steep, Thorny Path

Infinitely Easier, Then Surely I Ought To Seek This Change By Every

Means In my Power. Indeed, There Must Be A Change In me, Or I Shall Lose

Even The Foothold I Have Gained. I Am Subjected, All Day Long, To Insult

And Annoyance. At Times I Am Almost Desperate And On The Verge Of

Recklessness. Every One Of The Coarse Creatures That I Am Compelled to

Work With Is A Nettle That Loses No Chance To Sting Me; And There Is One

Among Them, A Big, Burly Fellow, Who Is So Offensive That I Cannot Keep

My Hands Off Him Much Longer If I Remain My Old Self. You Also Know What

A Reception I Must Ever Expect In the Streets When I Am Recognized. The

People Act As If I Were Some Sort Of A Reptile, Which They Must Tolerate

At Large, But Can, At Least, Shun With Looks Of Aversion. And Then, When

I Get To Mr. Growther'S Cottage I Do Not Find Much Respite. It Seems

Like Ingratitude To Write This, But The Good Old Man'S Eccentric Habit

Of Berating Himself And The World In general Has Grown Wearisome, To Say

The Least. I Want To Be Lifted out Of Myself--Far Above These Petty

Vexations And My Own Miserable Weaknesses.

 

 

 

Once, Before I Left Home, I Played a Rude Joke On Our Good Old Pastor.

Instead Of Resenting It He Wrote Me Such A Kind Letter That I Went To

His Study To Apologize. While There His Manner And Words Were Such That

I Had To Break Away To Escape A Sudden And Mysterious Influence That

Inclined me Toward All That Is Good. I Have Hoped that If I Should Visit

Him I Might Come Under That Influence Again, And So Be Made A New And

Better Man.

 

 

 

I Have Also Another Motive, Which You Will Understand. Mother And I

Differ Widely On Many Things, And Always Will; But I Long To See Her

Once More. I Have Been Thinking Of Late Of Her Many Kindnesses--O That

She Had Been Less Kind, Less Indulgent! But She Cannot Help The Past Any

More Than I