Felix Holt, the Radical Read online

  CHAPTER V.

  1ST CITIZEN. Sir, there's a hurry in the veins of youth That makes a vice of virtue by excess.

  2D CITIZEN. What if the coolness of our tardier veins Be loss of virtue?

  1ST CITIZEN. All things cool with time-- The sun itself, they say, till heat shall find A general level, nowhere in excess.

  2D CITIZEN. 'Tis a poor climax, to my weaker thought, That future middlingness.

  In the evening, when Mr. Lyon was expecting the knock at the door thatwould announce Felix Holt, he occupied his cushionless arm-chair in thesitting-room, and was skimming rapidly, in his short-sighted way, by thelight of one candle, the pages of a missionary report, emittingoccasionally a slight "Hm-m" that appeared to be expressive of criticismrather than of approbation. The room was dismally furnished, the onlyobjects indicating an intention of ornament being a bookcase, a map ofthe Holy Land, an engraved portrait of Dr. Doddridge, and a black bustwith a colored face, which for some reason or other was covered withgreen gauze. Yet any one whose attention was quite awake must have beenaware, even on entering, of certain things that were incongruous withthe general air of sombreness and privation. There was a delicate scentof dried rose-leaves; the light by which the minister was reading was awax-candle in a white earthenware candle-stick, and the table on theopposite side of the fireplace held a dainty work-basket frilled withblue satin.

  Felix Holt, when he entered, was not in an observant mood; and when,after seating himself, at the minister's invitation, near the littletable which held the work-basket, he stared at the wax-candle oppositeto him, he did so without any wonder or consciousness that the candlewas not of tallow. But the minister's sensitiveness gave anotherinterpretation to the gaze which he divined rather than saw; and inalarm lest this inconsistent extravagance should obstruct hisusefulness, he hastened to say--

  "You are doubtless amazed to see me with a wax-light, my young friend;but this undue luxury is paid for with the earnings of my daughter, whois so delicately framed that the smell of tallow is loathsome to her."

  "I heeded not the candle, sir. I thank Heaven I am not a mouse to have anose that takes note of wax or tallow."

  The loud abrupt tones made the old man vibrate a little. He had beenstroking his chin gently before, with a sense that he must be veryquiet and deliberate in his treatment of the eccentric young man; butnow, quite unreflectingly, he drew forth a pair of spectacles, which hewas in the habit of using when he wanted to observe his interlocutormore closely than usual.

  "And I myself, in fact, am equally indifferent," he said, as he openedand adjusted his glasses, "so that I have a sufficient light on mybook." Here his large eyes looked discerningly through the spectacles.

  "'Tis the quality of the page you care about, not of the candle," saidFelix, smiling pleasantly enough at his inspector. "You're thinking thatyou have a roughly-written page before you now."

  That was true. The minister, accustomed to the respectable air ofprovincial townsmen, and especially to the sleek well-clipped gravity ofhis own male congregation, felt a slight shock as his glasses madeperfectly clear to him the shaggy-headed, large-eyed, strong-limbedperson of this questionable young man, without waistcoat or cravat. Butthe possibility, supported by some of Mrs. Holt's words, that adisguised work of grace might be going on in the son of whom shecomplained so bitterly, checked any hasty interpretations.

  "I abstain from judging by the outward appearance only," he answered,with his usual simplicity. "I myself have experienced that when thespirit is much exercised it is difficult to remember neck-bands andstrings and such small accidents of our vesture, which are neverthelessdecent and needful so long as we sojourn in the flesh. And you, too, myyoung friend, as I gather from your mother's troubled and confusedreport, are undergoing some travail of mind. You will not, I trust,object to open yourself fully to me, as to an aged pastor who hashimself had much inward wrestling, and has especially known muchtemptation from doubt."

  "As to doubt," said Felix, loudly and brusquely as before, "if it isthose absurd medicines and gulling advertisements that my mother hasbeen talking of to you--and I suppose it is--I've no more doubt about_them_ than I have about pocket-picking. I know there's a stage ofspeculation in which a man may doubt whether a pickpocket isblameworthy--but I'm not one of your subtle fellows who keep looking atthe world through their own legs. If I allowed the sale of thosemedicines to go on, and my mother to live out of the proceeds when I cankeep her by the honest labor of my hands, I've not the least doubt thatI should be a rascal."

  "I would fain enquire more particularly into your objection to thesemedicines," said Mr. Lyon, gravely. Notwithstanding hisconscientiousness and a certain originality in his own mentaldisposition, he was too little used to high principle quite dissociatedfrom sectarian phraseology to be as immediately in sympathy with it ashe would otherwise have been. "I know they have been well reported of,and many wise persons have tried remedies providentially discovered bythose who are not regular physicians, and have found a blessing in theuse of them. I may mention the eminent Mr. Wesley, who, though I holdnot altogether with his Arminian doctrine, nor with the usages of hisinstitutions, was nevertheless a man of God; and the journals of variousChristians whose names have left a sweet savor, might be cited in thesame sense. Moreover, your father, who originally concocted thesemedicines and left them as a provision for your mother, was, as Iunderstand, a man whose walk was not unfaithful."

  "My father was ignorant," said Felix, bluntly. "He knew neither thecomplication of the human system, nor the way in which drugs counteracteach other. Ignorance is not so damnable as humbug, but when itprescribes pills it may happen to do more harm. I know something aboutthese things. I was 'prentice for five miserable years to a stupid bruteof a country apothecary--my poor father left money for that--he thoughtnothing could be finer for me. No matter: I know that the CatharticPills are a drastic compound which may be as bad as poison to half thepeople who swallow them; that the Elixir is an absurd farrago of a dozenincompatible things; and that the Cancer Cure might as well be bottledditch-water."

  Mr. Lyon rose and walked up and down the room. His simplicity wasstrongly mixed with sagacity as well as sectarian prejudice, and he didnot rely at once on a loud-spoken integrity--Satan might have flavoredit with ostentation. Presently he asked, in a rapid, low tone, "How longhave you known this, young man?"

  "Well put, sir," said Felix. "I've known it a good deal longer than Ihave acted upon it, like plenty of other things. But you believe inconversion?"

  "Yea, verily."

  "So do I. I was converted by six weeks' debauchery."

  The minister started. "Young man," he said, solemnly, going up close toFelix and laying a hand on his shoulder, "speak not lightly of theDivine operations, and restrain unseemly words."

  "I'm not speaking lightly," said Felix. "If I had not seen that I wasmaking a hog of myself very fast, and that pig-wash, even if I couldhave got plenty of it, was a poor sort of thing, I should never havelooked life fairly in the face to see what was to be done with it. Ilaughed out loud at last to think that a poor devil like me, in a Scotchgarret, with my stockings out at heel and a shilling or two to bedissipated upon, with a smell of raw haggis mounting from below, and oldwomen breathing gin as they passed me on the stairs--wanting to turn mylife into easy pleasure. Then I began to see what else it could beturned into. Not much, perhaps. This world is not a very fine place fora good many of the people in it. But I've made up my mind it shan't bethe worse for me, if I can help it. They may tell me I can't alter theworld--that there must be a certain number of sneaks and robbers in it,and if I don't lie and filch somebody else will. Well then, somebodyelse shall, for I won't. That's the upshot of my conversion, Mr. Lyon,if you want to know it."

  Mr. Lyon removed his hand from Felix's shoulder and walked about again."Did you sit under any preacher at Glasgow, young man?"<
br />
  "No: I heard most of the preachers once, but I never wanted to hear themtwice."

  The good Rufus was not without a slight rising of resentment at thisyoung man's want of reverence. It was not yet plain whether he wanted tohear twice the preacher in Malthouse Yard. But the resentful feeling wascarefully repressed: a soul in so peculiar a condition must be dealtwith delicately.

  "And now, may I ask," he said, "what course you mean to take, afterhindering your mother from making and selling these drugs? I speak nomore in their favor after what you have said. God forbid that I shouldstrive to hinder you from seeking whatsoever things are honest andhonorable. But your mother is advanced in years; she needs comfortablesustenance; you have doubtless considered how you may make her amends?'He that provideth not for his own----' I trust you respect theauthority that so speaks. And I will not suppose that, after beingtender of conscience toward strangers, you will be careless toward yourmother. There be indeed some who, taking a mighty charge on theirshoulder, must perforce leave their households to Providence, and to thecare of humbler brethren, but in such a case the call must be clear."

  "I shall keep my mother as well--nay, better--than she has kept herself.She has always been frugal. With my watch and clock cleaning, andteaching one or two little chaps that I've got to come to me, I can earnenough. As for me, I can live on bran porridge. I have the stomach of arhinoceros."

  "But for a young man so well furnished as you, who can questionlesswrite a good hand and keep books, were it not well to seek some highersituation as clerk or assistant? I could speak to Brother Muscat, who iswell acquainted with all such openings. Any place in Pendrell's Bank, Ifear, is now closed against such as are not Churchmen. It used not to beso, but a year ago he discharged Brother Bodkin, although he was avaluable servant. Still, something might be found. There are ranks anddegrees--and those who can serve in the higher must not unadvisedlychange what seems to be a providential appointment. Your poor mother isnot altogether----"

  "Excuse me, Mr. Lyon I've had all that out with my mother, and I may aswell save you any trouble by telling you that my mind has been made upabout that a long while ago. I'll take no employment that obliges me toprop up my chin with a high cravat, and wear straps, and pass thelivelong day with a set of fellows who spend their spare money on shirtpins. That sort of work is really lower than many handicrafts; it onlyhappens to be paid out of proportion. That's why I set myself to learnthe watchmaking trade. My father was a weaver first of all. It wouldhave been better for him if he had remained a weaver. I came homethrough Lancashire and saw an uncle of mine who is a weaver still. Imean to stick to the class I belong to--people who don't follow thefashions."

  Mr. Lyon was silent a few moments. This dialogue was far from plainsailing; he was not certain of his latitude and longitude. If thedespiser of Glasgow preachers had been arguing in favor of gin andSabbath-breaking, Mr. Lyon's course would have been clearer. "Well,well," he said, deliberately, "it is true that St. Paul exercised thetrade of tent-making, though he was learned in all the wisdom of theRabbis."

  "St. Paul was a wise man," said Felix. "Why should I want to get intothe middle class because I have some learning? The most of the middleclass are as ignorant as the working people about everything thatdoesn't belong to their own Brummagem life. That's how the workingmenare left to foolish devices and keep worsening themselves: the bestheads among them forsake their boon comrades, and go in for a house witha high door-step and a brass knocker."

  Mr. Lyon stroked his mouth and chin, perhaps because he felt somedisposition to smile; and it would not be well to smile too readily atwhat seemed but a weedy resemblance of Christian unworldliness. On thecontrary, there might be a dangerous snare in an unsanctifiedoutstepping of average Christian practice.

  "Nevertheless," he observed, gravely, "it is by such self-advancementthat many have been enabled to do good service to the cause of libertyand to the public well-being. The ring and the robe of Joseph were noobjects for a good man's ambition, but they were the signs of thatcredit which he won by his divinely-inspired skill, and which enabledhim to act as a saviour to his brethren."

  "Oh, yes, your ringed and scented men of the people!--I won't be one ofthem. Let a man once throttle himself with a satin stock, and he'll getnew wants and new motives. Metamorphosis will have begun at hisneck-joint, and it will go on till it has changed his likings first andthen his reasoning, which will follow his likings as the feet of ahungry dog follow his nose. I'll have none of your clerkly gentility. Imight end by collecting greasy pence from poor men to buy myself a finecoat and a glutton's dinner, on pretence of serving the poor men. I'dsooner be Paley's fat pigeon than a demagogue all tongue and stomach,though"--here Felix changed his voice a little--"I should like wellenough to be another sort of demagogue, if I could."

  "Then you have a strong interest in the great political movements ofthese times?" said Mr. Lyon, with a perceptible flashing of the eyes.

  "I should think so. I despise every man who has not--or, having it,doesn't try to rouse it in other men."

  "Right, my young friend, right," said the minister, in a deep cordialtone. Inevitably his mind was drawn aside from the immediateconsideration of Felix Holt's spiritual interest by the prospect ofpolitical sympathy. In those days so many instruments of God's cause inthe fight for religious and political liberty held creeds that werepainfully wrong, and, indeed, irreconcilable with salvation! "That ismy own view, which I maintain in the face of some opposition frombrethren who contend that a share in public movements is a hindrance tothe closer walk, and that the pulpit is no place for teaching men theirduties as members of the commonwealth. I have had much puerile blamecast upon me because I have uttered such names as Brougham andWellington in the pulpit. Why not Wellington as well as Rabshakeh? andwhy not Brougham as well as Balaam? Does God know less of men than Hedid in the days of Hezekiah and Moses?--is His arm shortened, and is theworld become too wide for His providence? But, they say, there are nopolitics in the New Testament----"

  "Well, they're right enough there," said Felix, with his usualunceremoniousness.

  "What! you are of those who hold that a Christian minister should notmeddle with public matters in the pulpit?" said Mr. Lyon, coloring. "Iam ready to join issue on that point."

  "Not I, sir," said Felix; "I should say, teach any truth you can,whether it's in the Testament or out of it. It's little enough anybodycan get hold of, and still less what he can drive into the skulls of apence-counting, parcel-tying generation, such as mostly fill yourchapels."

  "Young man," said Mr. Lyon, pausing in front of Felix. He spoke rapidly,as he always did, except when his words were specially weighted withemotion: he overflowed with matter, and in his mind matter was alwayscompletely organized into words. "I speak not on my own behalf, for notonly have I no desire that any man should think of me above that whichhe seeth me to be, but I am aware of much that should make me patientunder a disesteem resting even on too hasty a construction. I speak notas claiming reverence for my own age and office--not to shame you, butto warn you. It is good that you should use plainness of speech, and Iam not of those who would enforce a submissive silence on the young,that they themselves, being elders, may be heard at large; but Elihu wasthe youngest of Job's friends, yet was there a wise rebuke in his words;and the aged Eli was taught by a revelation to the boy Samuel. I have tokeep a special watch over myself in this matter, inasmuch as I have needof utterance which makes the thought within me seem as a pent-up fire,until I have shot it forth, as it were, in arrowy words, each onehitting its mark. Therefore I pray for a listening spirit, which is agreat mark of grace. Nevertheless, my young friend, I am bound, as Isaid, to warn you. The temptations that most beset those who have greatnatural gifts, and are wise after the flesh, are pride and scorn, moreparticularly toward those weak things of the world which have beenchosen to confound the things which are mighty. The scornful nostril andthe high head gather not the odors that lie on the track of truth. Themind that is t
oo ready at contempt and reprobation is----"

  Here the door opened, and Mr. Lyon paused to look around, but seeingonly Lyddy with the tea-tray, he went on--

  "Is, I may say, as a clenched fist that can give blows, but is shut upfrom receiving and holding aught that is precious--though it wereheaven-sent manna."

  "I understand you, sir," said Felix, good-humoredly, putting out hishand to the little man, who had come close to him as he delivered thelast sentence with sudden emphasis and slowness. "But I'm not inclinedto clench my fist at you."

  "Well, well," said Mr. Lyon, shaking the proffered hand, "we shall seemore of each other, and I trust shall have much profitable communing.You will stay and have a dish of tea with us: we take the meal late onThursdays, because my daughter is detained by giving a lesson in theFrench tongue. But she is doubtless returned now, and will presentlycome and pour out tea for us."

  "Thank you, I'll stay," said Felix, not from any curiosity to see theminister's daughter, but from a liking for the society of the ministerhimself--for his quaint looks and ways, and the transparency of histalk, which gave a charm even to his weakness. The daughter was probablysome prim Miss, neat, sensible, pious, but all in a small feminine way,in which Felix was no more interested than in Dorcas meetings,biographies of devout women, and that amount of ornamental knittingwhich was not inconsistent with Non-conforming seriousness.

  "I'm perhaps a little too fond of banging and smashing," he went on: "aphrenologist at Glasgow told me I had large veneration another manthere, who knew me, laughed out and said I was the most blasphemousiconoclast living. 'That,' says my phrenologist, 'is because of hislarge ideality, which prevents him from finding anything perfect enoughto be venerated.' Of course I put my ears down and wagged my tail atthat stroking."

  "Yes, yes; I have had my own head explored with somewhat similarresults. It is, I fear, but a vain show of fulfilling the heathenprecept, 'Know thyself,' and too often leads to a self-estimate whichwill subsist in the absence of that fruit by which alone the quality ofthe tree is made evident. Nevertheless----Esther, my dear, this is Mr.Holt, whose acquaintance I have now been making with more than ordinaryinterest. He will take tea with us."

  Esther bowed slightly as she walked across the room to fetch the candleand place it near her tray. Felix rose and bowed, also with an air ofindifference, which was perhaps exaggerated by the fact that he wasinwardly surprised. The minister's daughter was not the sort of personhe expected. She was quite incongruous with his notion of ministers'daughters in general; and though he had expected something nowisedelightful, the incongruity repelled him. A very delicate scent, thefaint suggestion of a garden, was wafted as she went. He would notobserve her, but he had a sense of an elastic walk, the tread of smallfeet, a long neck and a high crown of shining brown plaits and curlsthat floated backward--things, in short, that suggested a fine lady tohim, and determined him to notice her as little as possible. A fine ladywas always a sort of spun-glass affair--not natural, and with no beautyfor him as art; but a fine lady as the daughter of this rusty oldPuritan was especially offensive.

  "Nevertheless," continued Mr. Lyon, who rarely let drop any thread ofdiscourse, "that phrenological science is not irreconcilable with therevealed dispensations. And it is undeniable that we have our varyingnative dispositions which even grace will not obliterate. I myself, frommy youth up, have been given to question too curiously concerning thetruth--to examine and sift the medicine of the soul rather than to applyit."

  "If your truth happens to be such medicine as Holt's Pills and Elixir,the less you swallow of it the better," said Felix. "But truth-vendorsand medicine-vendors usually recommend swallowing. When a man sees hislivelihood in a pill or a proposition, he likes to have orders for thedose, and not curious enquiries."

  This speech verged on rudeness, but it was delivered with a brusqueopenness that implied the absence of any personal intention. Theminister's daughter was now for the first time startled into looking atFelix. But her survey of this unusual speaker was soon made, and sherelieved her father from the need to reply by saying--

  "The tea is poured out, father."

  That was the signal for Mr. Lyon to advance toward the table, raise hisright hand, and ask a blessing at sufficient length for Esther to glanceat the visitor again. There seemed to be no danger of his looking ather: he was observing her father. She had time to remark that he was apeculiar looking person, but not insignificant, which was the qualitythat most hopelessly consigned a man to perdition. He was massivelybuilt. The striking points in his face were large clear gray eyes andfull lips.

  "Will you draw up to the table, Mr. Holt?" said the minister.

  In the act of rising, Felix pushed back his chair too suddenly againstthe rickety table close by him, and down went the blue-frilledwork-basket, flying open, and dispersing on the floor reels, thimble,muslin-work, a small sealed bottle of attar of rose, and somethingheavier than these--a duodecimo volume which fell near him between thetable and the fender.

  "Oh, my stars!" said Felix, "I beg your pardon." Esther had alreadystarted up, and with wonderful quickness had picked up half the smallrolling things while Felix was lifting the basket and the book. Thislast had opened, and had its leaves crushed in falling; and, with theinstinct of a bookish man, he saw nothing more pressing to be done thanto flatten the corners of the leaves.

  "Byron's Poems!" he said, in a tone of disgust, while Esther wasrecovering all the other articles. "'The Dream'--he'd better have beenasleep and snoring. What! do you stuff your memory with Byron, MissLyon?"

  Felix on his side, was led at last to look straight at Esther, but itwas with a strong denunciatory and pedagogic intention. Of course he sawmore clearly than ever that she was a fine lady.

  She reddened, drew up her long neck, and said, as she retreated to herchair again--

  "I have a great admiration for Byron."

  Mr. Lyon had paused in the act of drawing his chair to the tea table,and was looking on at this scene, wrinkling the corners of his eyes witha perplexed smile. Esther would not have wished him to know anythingabout the volume of Byron, but she was too proud to show any concern.

  "He is a worldly and vain writer, I fear," said Mr. Lyon. He knewscarcely anything of the poet, whose books embodied the faith and ritualof many young ladies and gentlemen.

  "A misanthropic debauchee," said Felix, lifting a chair with one hand,and holding the book open in the other, "whose notion of a hero wasthat he should disorder his stomach and despise mankind. His corsairsand renegades, his Alps and Manfreds, are the most paltry puppets thatwere ever pulled by the strings of lust and pride."

  "Hand the book to me," said Mr. Lyon.

  "Let me beg of you to put it aside till after tea, father," said Esther."However objectionable Mr. Holt may find its pages, they would certainlybe made worse by being greased with bread-and-butter."

  "That is true, my dear," said Mr. Lyon, laying down the book on thesmall table behind him. He saw that his daughter was angry.

  "Ho, ho!" thought Felix, "her father is frightened at her. How came heto have such a nice-stepping, long-necked peacock for his daughter? butshe shall see that I am not frightened." Then he said aloud, "I shouldlike to know how you will justify your admiration for such a writer,Miss Lyon."

  "I should not attempt it with you, Mr. Holt," said Esther. "You havesuch strong words at command that they make the smallest argument seemformidable. If I had ever met the giant Cormoran, I should have made apoint of agreeing with him in his literary opinions."

  Esther had that excellent thing in woman, a soft voice with clear fluentutterance. Her sauciness was always charming because it was withoutemphasis, and was accompanied with graceful little turns of the head.

  Felix laughed at her thrust with young heartiness.

  "My daughter is a critic of words, Mr. Holt," said the minister, smilingcomplacently, "and often corrects mine on the ground of niceties, whichI profess are as dark to me as if they were the reports of a sixth
sensewhich I possess not. I am an eager seeker for precision, and would fainfind language subtle enough to follow the utmost intricacies of thesoul's pathways, but I see not why a round word that means some object,made and blessed by the Creator, should be branded and banished as amalefactor."

  "Oh, your niceties--I know what they are," said Felix, in his usual_fortissimo_. "They'll go on your system of make-believe. 'Rottenness'may suggest what is unpleasant, so you'd better say 'sugar-plums,' orsomething else such a long way off the fact that nobody is obliged tothink of it. Those are your roundabout euphuisms that dress up swindlingtill it looks as well as honesty, and shoot with boiled peas instead ofbullets. I hate your gentlemanly speakers."

  "Then you would not like Mr. Jermyn, I think," said Esther. "Thatreminds me, father, that to-day, when I was giving Miss Louisa Jermynher lesson, Mr. Jermyn came in and spoke to me with grand politeness,and asked me at what times you were likely to be disengaged, because hewished to make your better acquaintance, and consult you on matters ofimportance. He never took the least notice of me before. Can you guessthe reason of his sudden ceremoniousness?"

  "Nay, child," said the minister, ponderingly.

  "Politics, of course," said Felix. "He's on some committee. An electionis coming. Universal peace is declared, and the foxes have a sincereinterest in prolonging the lives of the poultry. Eh, Mr. Lyon? Isn'tthat it?"

  "Nay, not so. He is the close ally of the Transome family, who are blindhereditary Tories like the Debarrys, and will drive their tenants to thepoll as if they were sheep, and it has even been hinted that the heirwho is coming from the East may be another Tory candidate, and coalescewith the younger Debarry. It is said that he has enormous wealth, andcould purchase every vote in the county that has a price."

  "He is come," said Esther. "I heard Miss Jermyn tell her sister that shehad seen him going out of her father's room."

  "'Tis strange," said Mr. Lyon.

  "Something extraordinary must have happened," said Esther, "for Mr.Jermyn to intend courting us. Miss Jermyn said to me only the other daythat she could not think how I came to be so well educated and ladylike.She always thought Dissenters were ignorant, vulgar people. I said, sothey were, usually, and Church people also in small towns. She considersherself a judge of what is ladylike, and she is vulgaritypersonified--with large feet, and the most odious scent on herhandkerchief, and a bonnet that looks like 'The Fashion' printed incapital letters."

  "One sort of fine-ladyism is as good as another," said Felix.

  "No, indeed. Pardon me," said Esther. "A real fine-lady does not wearclothes that flare in people's eyes, or use importunate scents, or makea noise as she moves: she is something refined and graceful, andcharming, and never obtrusive."

  "Oh, yes," said Felix, contemptuously. "And she reads Byron also, andadmires Childe Harold--gentlemen of unspeakable woes, who employ ahairdresser, and look seriously at themselves in the glass."

  Esther reddened, and gave a little toss. Felix went on triumphantly. "Afine-lady is a squirrel-headed thing, with small airs, and smallnotions, about as applicable to the business of life as a pair oftweezers to the clearing of a forest. Ask your father what those oldpersecuted emigrant Puritans would have done with fine-lady wives anddaughters."

  "Oh, there is no danger of such _mesalliances_," said Esther. "Men whoare unpleasant companions and make frights of themselves, are sure toget wives tasteless enough to suit them."

  "Esther, my dear," said Mr. Lyon, "let not your playfulness betray youinto disrespect toward those venerable pilgrims. They struggled andendured in order to cherish and plant anew the seeds of a scripturaldoctrine and of a pure discipline."

  "Yes, I know," said Esther, hastily, dreading a discourse on the pilgrimfathers.

  "Oh, they were an ugly lot!" Felix burst in, making Mr. Lyon start."Miss Medora wouldn't have minded if they had all been put into thepillory and lost their ears. She would have said, 'Their ears did stickout so.' I shouldn't wonder if that's a bust of one of them." HereFelix, with sudden keenness of observation, nodded at the black bustwith the gauze over its colored face.

  "No," said Mr. Lyon, "that is the eminent George Whitfield, who, youwell know, had a gift of oratory as of one on whom the tongue of flamehad rested visibly. But Providence--doubtless for wise ends in relationto the inner man, for I would not enquire too closely into minutiae whichcarry too many plausible interpretations for any one of them to bestable--Providence, I say, ordained that the good man should squint; andmy daughter has not yet learned to bear with his infirmity."

  "She has put a veil over it. Suppose you had squinted yourself?" saidFelix, looking at Esther.

  "Then, doubtless, you could have been more polite to me, Mr. Holt," saidEsther, rising and placing herself at her work-table. "You seem toprefer what is unusual and ugly."

  "A peacock!" thought Felix. "I should like to come and scold her everyday, and make her cry and cut her fine hair off."

  Felix rose to go, and said, "I will not take up any more of yourvaluable time, Mr. Lyon. I know that you have not many spare evenings."

  "That is true, my young friend; for I now go to Sproxton one evening inthe week. I do not despair that we may some day need a chapel there,though the hearers do not multiply save among the women, and there is nowork as yet begun among the miners themselves. I shall be glad of yourcompany in my walk thither to-morrow at five o'clock, if you would liketo see how that population has grown of late years."

  "Oh, I've been to Sproxton already several times. I had a congregationof my own there last Sunday evening."

  "What! do you preach?" said Mr. Lyon, with brightened glance.

  "Not exactly. I went to the ale-house."

  Mr. Lyon started. "I trust you are putting a riddle to me, young man,even as Samson did to his companions. From what you said but lately, itcannot be that you are given to tippling and to taverns."

  "Oh, I don't drink much. I order a pint of beer, and I get into talkwith the fellows over their pots and pipes. Somebody must take a littleknowledge and common-sense to them in this way, else how are they to getit? I go for educating the non-electors, so I put myself in the way ofmy pupils--my academy is the beer-house. I'll walk with you to-morrowwith pleasure."

  "Do so, do so," said Mr. Lyon, shaking hands with his odd acquaintance."We shall understand each other better by-and-by, I doubt not."

  "I wish you good-evening, Miss Lyon."

  Esther bowed very slightly, without speaking.

  "That is a singular young man, Esther," said the minister, walking aboutafter Felix was gone. "I discern in him a love for whatsoever things arehonest and true, which I would fain believe to be an earnest of furtherendowment with the wisdom that is from on high. It is true that, as thetraveller in the desert is often lured, by a false vision of water andfreshness, to turn aside from the track which leads to the tried andestablished fountains, so the Evil One will take advantage of a naturalyearning toward the better, to delude the soul with a self-flatteringbelief in a visionary virtue, higher than the ordinary fruits of theSpirit. But I trust it is not so here. I feel a great enlargement inthis young man's presence, notwithstanding a certain license in hislanguage, which I shall use my efforts to correct."

  "I think he is very coarse and rude," said Esther, with a touch oftemper in her voice. "But he speaks better English than most of ourvisitors. What is his occupation?"

  "Watch and clock making, by which, together with a little teaching, as Iunderstand, he hopes to maintain his mother, not thinking it right thathe should live by the sale of medicines whose virtues he distrusts. Itis no common scruple."

  "Dear me," said Esther, "I thought he was something higher than that."She was disappointed.

  Felix, on his side, as he strolled out in the evening air, said tohimself: "Now by what fine meshes of circumstance did that queer devoutold man, with his awful creed, which makes this world a vestibule withdouble doors to hell, and a narrow stair on one side whereby the thinnersort may mount to heav
en--by what subtle play of flesh and spirit did hecome to have a daughter so little in his own likeness? Marriedfoolishly, I suppose. I'll never marry, though I should have to live onraw turnips to subdue my flesh. I'll never look back and say, 'I had afine purpose once--I meant to keep my hands clean and my soul upright,and to look truth in the face; but pray excuse me, I have a wife andchildren--I must lie and simper a little, else they'll starve'; or 'Mywife is nice, she must have her bread well buttered, and her feelingswill be hurt if she is not thought genteel.' That is the lot Miss Estheris preparing for some man or other. I could grind my teeth at suchself-satisfied minxes, who think they can tell everybody what is thecorrect thing, and the utmost stretch of their ideas will not place themon a level with the intelligent fleas. I should like to see if she couldbe made ashamed of herself."