Felix Holt, the Radical Read online

  CHAPTER XIII.

  "Give sorrow leave awhile, to tutor me To this submission."--_Richard II._

  Meanwhile Felix Holt had been making his way back from Sproxton to Trebyin some irritation and bitterness of spirit. For a little while hewalked slowly along the direct road, hoping that Mr. Johnson wouldovertake him, in which case he would have the pleasure of quarrellingwith him, and telling him what he thought of his intentions in coming tocant at the Sugar Loaf. But he presently checked himself in this follyand turned off again toward the canal, that he might avoid thetemptation of getting into a passion to no purpose.

  "Where's the good," he thought, "of pulling at such a tangled skein asthis electioneering trickery? As long as three-fourths of the men inthis country see nothing in an election but self-interest, and nothingin self-interest but some form of greed, one might as well try to purifythe proceedings of the fishes, and say to a hungry cod-fish--'My goodfriend, abstain; don't goggle your eyes so, or show such a stupidgluttonous mouth, or think the little fishes are worth nothing except inrelation to your own inside.' He'd be open to no argument short ofcrimping him. I should get into a rage with this fellow, and perhaps endby thrashing him. There's some reason in me as long as I keep my temper,but my rash humor is drunkenness without wine. I shouldn't wonder if heupsets all my plans with these colliers. Of course he's going to treatthem for the sake of getting up a posse at the nomination andspeechifyings. They'll drink double, and never come near me on aSaturday evening. I don't know what sort of man Transome really is. It'sno use my speaking to anybody else, but if I could get at him, he mightput a veto on this thing. Though, when once the men have been promisedand set a-going, the mischief is likely to be past mending. Hang theLiberal cod-fish! I shouldn't have minded so much if he'd been a Tory!"

  Felix went along in the twilight struggling in this way with theintricacies of life, which would certainly be greatly simplified ifcorrupt practices were the invariable mark of wrong opinions. When hehad crossed the common and had entered the park, the overshadowing treesdeepened the gray gloom of the evening; it was useless to try and keepthe blind path, and he could only be careful that his steps should bebent in the direction of the park gate. He was striding along rapidlynow, whistling "Bannockburn" in a subdued way as an accompaniment tohis inward discussion, when something smooth and soft on which his footalighted arrested him with an unpleasant startling sensation, and madehim stoop to examine the object he was treading on. He found it to be alarge leather pocket-book swelled by its contents, and fastened with asealed ribbon as well as a clasp. In stooping he saw about a yard offsomething whitish and square lying on the dark grass. This was anornamental note-book of pale leather stamped with gold. Apparently ithad burst open in falling, and out of the pocket formed by the cover,there protruded a small gold chain about four inches long, with variousseals and other trifles attached to it by a ring at the end. Felixthrust the chain back, and finding that the clasp of the note-book wasbroken, he closed it and thrust it into his side-pocket, walking alongunder some annoyance that fortune had made him the finder of articlesbelonging most probably to one of the family at Treby Manor. He was muchtoo proud a man to like any contact with the aristocracy, and he couldstill less endure coming within speech of their servants. Some plan mustbe devised by which he could avoid carrying these things up to the Manorhimself: he thought at first of leaving them at the lodge, but he had ascruple against placing property, of which the ownership was after alluncertain, in the hands of persons unknown to him. It was possible thatthe large pocket-book contained papers of high importance, and that itdid not belong to any of the Debarry family. He resolved at last tocarry his findings to Mr. Lyon, who would perhaps be good-natured enoughto save him from the necessary transactions with the people at the Manorby undertaking those transactions himself. With this determination hewalked straight to Malthouse Yard, and waited outside the chapel untilthe congregation was dispersing, when he passed along the aisle to thevestry in order to speak to the minister in private.

  But Mr. Lyon was not alone when Felix entered. Mr. Nuttwood, the grocer,who was one of the deacons, was complaining to him about the obstinatedemeanor of the singers, who had declined to change the tunes inaccordance with a change in the selection of hymns, and had stretchedshort metre into long out of pure wilfulness and defiance, irreverentlyadapting the most sacred monosyllables to a multitude of quavers,arranged, it was to be feared, by some musician who was inspired byconceit rather than by the true spirit of psalmody.

  "Come in, my friend," said Mr. Lyon, smiling at Felix, and thencontinuing in a faint voice, while he wiped the perspiration from hisbrow and bald crown, "Brother Nuttwood, we must be content to carry athorn in our sides while the necessities of our imperfect state demandthat there should be a body set apart and called a choir, whose specialoffice it is to lead the singing, not because they are more disposed tothe devout uplifting of praise, but because they are endowed with bettervocal organs, and have attained more of the musician's art. For alloffice, unless it be accompanied by peculiar grace, becomes, as it were,a diseased organ, seeking to make itself too much of a centre. Singers,specially so called, are, it must be confessed, an anomaly among us whoseek to reduce the Church to its primitive simplicity, and to cast awayall that may obstruct the direct communion of spirit with spirit."

  "They are so headstrong," said Mr. Nuttwood, in a tone of sadperplexity, "that if we dealt not warily with them they might end individing the church, even now that we have had the chapel enlarged.Brother Kemp would side with them, and draw the half part of the membersafter him. I cannot but think it a snare when a professing Christian hasa bass voice like Brother Kemp's. It makes him desire to be heard ofmen; but the weaker song of the humble may have more power in the ear ofGod."

  "Do you think it any better vanity to flatter yourself that God likes tohear you, though men don't?" said Felix, with unwarrantable bluntness.

  The civil grocer was prepared to be scandalized by anything that camefrom Felix. In common with many hearers in Malthouse Yard, he alreadyfelt an objection to a young man who was notorious for having interferedin a question of wholesale and retail, which should have been left toProvidence. Old Mr. Holt, being a church member, had probably had"leadings" which were more to be relied on than his son's boastedknowledge. In any case, a little visceral disturbance and inwardchastisement to the consumers of questionable medicines would tend lessto obscure the divine glory than a show of punctilious morality in onewho was not a "professor." Besides, how was it to be known that themedicines would not be blessed, if taken with due trust in a higherinfluence? A Christian must consider not the medicines alone in theirrelation to our frail bodies (which are dust), but the medicines withOmnipotence behind them. Hence a pious vendor will look for "leadings,"and he is likely to find them in the cessation of demand and thedisproportion of expenses and returns. The grocer was thus on his guardagainst the presumptuous disputant.

  "Mr. Lyon may understand you, sir," he replied. "He seems to be fond ofyour conversation. But you have too much of the pride of human learningfor me. I follow no new lights."

  "Then follow an old one," said Felix, mischievously disposed toward asleek tradesman. "Follow the light of the old-fashioned Presbyteriansthat I've heard sing at Glasgow. The preacher gives out the psalm, andthen everybody sings a different tune, as it happens to turn up in theirthroats. It's a domineering thing to set a tune and expect everybodyelse to follow it. It's a denial of private judgment."

  "Hush, hush, my young friend," said Mr. Lyon, hurt by this levity, whichglanced at himself as well as at the deacon. "Play not with paradoxes.That caustic which you handle in order to scorch others, may happen tosear your own fingers and make them dead to the quality of things. 'Tisdifficult enough to see our way and keep our torch steady in this dimlabyrinth: to whirl the torch and dazzle the eyes of our fellow-seekersis a poor daring, and may end in total darkness. You yourself are alover of freedom, and a bold rebel against usurping authority. B
ut theright to rebellion is the right to seek a higher rule, and not to wanderin mere lawlessness. Wherefore, I beseech you, seem not to say thatliberty is license. And I apprehend--though I am not endowed with an earto seize those earthly harmonies, which to some devout souls haveseemed, as it were, the broken echoes of the heavenly choir--I apprehendthat there is a law in music, disobedience whereunto would bring us inour singing to the level of shrieking maniacs or howling beasts: so thatherein we are well instructed how true liberty can be nought but thetransfer of obedience from the will of one or of a few men to that willwhich is the norm or rule for all men. And though the transfer maysometimes be but an erroneous direction of search, yet is the searchgood and necessary to the ultimate finding. And even as in music, whereall obey and concur to one end, so that each has the joy of contributingto a whole whereby he is ravished and lifted up into the courts ofheaven, so will it be in that crowning time of the millennial reign,when our daily prayer will be fulfilled, and one law shall be written onall hearts, and be the very structure of all thought, and be theprinciple of all action."

  Tired, even exhausted, as the minister had been when Felix Holt entered,the gathering excitement of speech gave more and more energy to hisvoice and manner; he walked away from the vestry table, he paused, andcame back to it; he walked away again, then came back, and ended withhis deepest toned largo, keeping his hands clasped behind him, while hisbrown eyes were bright with the lasting youthfulness of enthusiasticthought and love. But to any one who had no share in the energies thatwere thrilling his little body, he would have looked queer enough. Nosooner had he finished his eager speech, than he held out his hand tothe deacon, and said, in his former faint tone of fatigue--

  "God be with you, brother. We shall meet to-morrow, and we will see whatcan be done to subdue these refractory spirits."

  When the deacon was gone, Felix said, "Forgive me, Mr. Lyon I waswrong, and you are right."

  "Yes, yes, my friend, you have that mark of grace within you, that youare ready to acknowledge the justice of a rebuke. Sit down; you havesomething to say--some packet there."

  They sat down at a corner of the small table, and Felix drew thenote-book from his pocket to lay it down with the pocket-book, saying--

  "I've had the ill-luck to be the finder of these things in the Debarrys'park. Most likely they belong to one of the family at the Manor, or tosome grandee who is staying there. I hate having anything to do withsuch people. They'll think me a poor rascal, and offer me money. You area known man, and I thought you would be kind enough to relieve me bytaking charge of these things, and writing to Debarry, not mentioningme, and asking him to send some one for them, I found them on the grassin the park this evening about half-past seven, in the corner we crossgoing to Sproxton."

  "Stay," said Mr. Lyon, "this little book is open; we may venture to lookin it for some sign of ownership. There be others who possess property,and might be crossing that end of the park, besides the Debarrys."

  As he lifted the note-book close to his eyes, the chain again slippedout. He arrested it and held it in his hand, while he examined somewriting, which appeared to be a name on the inner leather. He lookedlong, as if he were trying to decipher something that was partly rubbedout; and his hands began to tremble noticeably. He made a movement in anagitated manner, as if he were going to examine the chain and seals,which he held in his hand. But he checked himself, closed his handagain, and rested it on the table, while with the other hand he pressedthe sides of the note-book together.

  Felix observed his agitation, and was much surprised; but with adelicacy of which he was capable under all his abruptness, he said, "Youare overcome with fatigue, sir. I was thoughtless to tease you withthese matters at the end of Sunday, when you have been preaching threesermons."

  Mr. Lyon did not speak for a few moments, but at last he said--

  "It is true. I am overcome. It was a name I saw--a name that called up apast sorrow. Fear not; I will do what is needful with these things. Youmay trust them to me."

  With trembling fingers he replaced the chain, and tied both the largepocket-book and the note-book in his handkerchief. He was evidentlymaking a great effort over himself. But when he had gathered the knot ofthe handkerchief in his hand he said--

  "Give me your arm to the door, my friend. I feel ill. Doubtless I amover-wearied."

  The door was already open, and Lyddy was watching for her master'sreturn. Felix therefore said good-night and passed on, sure that thiswas what Mr. Lyon would prefer. The minister's supper of warm porridgewas ready by the kitchen-fire, where he always took it on a Sundayevening, and afterward smoked his weekly pipe up the broad chimney--theone great relaxation he allowed himself. Smoking, he considered, was arecreation of the travailled spirit, which, if indulged in, might endearthis world to us by the ignoble bonds of mere sensuous ease. Dailysmoking might be lawful, but it was not expedient. And in this Estherconcurred with a doctrinal eagerness that was unusual in her. It was herhabit to go to her own room, professedly to bed, very early onSundays--immediately on her return from chapel--that she might avoid herfather's pipe. But this evening she had remained at home, under a trueplea of not feeling well; and when she heard him enter, she ran out ofthe parlor to meet him.

  "Father, you are ill," she said, as he tottered to the wicker-bottomedarm-chair, while Lyddy stood by, shaking her head.

  "No, my dear," he answered feebly, as she took off his hat and looked inhis face enquiringly; "I am weary."

  "Let me lay these things down for you," said Esther, touching the bundlein the handkerchief.

  "No; they are matters which I have to examine," he said, laying them onthe table, and putting his arm across them. "Go you to bed, Lyddy."

  "Not me, sir. If ever a man looked as if he was struck with death, it'syou, this very night as here is."

  "Nonsense, Lyddy," said Esther, angrily. "Go to bed when my fatherdesires it. I will stay with him."

  Lyddy was electrified by surprise at this new behavior of Miss Esther's.She took her candle silently and went.

  "Go you too, my dear," said Mr. Lyon, tenderly, giving his hand toEsther, when Lyddy was gone. "It is your wont to go early. Why are youup?"

  "Let me lift your porridge from before the fire, and stay with you,father. You think I'm so naughty that I don't like doing anything foryou," said Esther, smiling rather sadly at him.

  "Child, what has happened? You have become the image of your motherto-night," said the minister, in a loud whisper. The tears came andrelieved him while Esther, who had stooped to lift the porridge from thefender, paused on one knee and looked up at him.

  "She was very good to you?" asked Esther, softly.

  "Yes, dear. She did not reject my affection. She thought not scorn of mylove. She would have forgiven me, if I had erred against her, from verytenderness. Could you forgive me, child?"

  "Father, I have not been good to you; but I will be, I will be," saidEsther, laying her head on his knee.

  He kissed her head. "Go to bed, dear; I would be alone."

  When Esther was lying down that night, she felt as if the littleincidents between herself and her father on this Sunday had made it anepoch. Very slight words and deeds may have a sacramental efficacy, ifwe can cast our self-love behind us, in order to say or do them. And ithas been well believed through many ages that the beginning ofcompunction is the beginning of a new life; that the mind which seesitself blameless may be called dead in trespasses--in trespasses on thelove of others, in trespasses on their weakness, in trespasses on allthose great claims which are the image of our own need.

  But Esther persisted in assuring herself that she was not bending to anycriticism from Felix. She was full of resentment against his rudeness,and yet more against his too harsh conception of her character. She wasdetermined to keep as much at a distance from him as possible.