history, we know, is apt to repeat herself, and to foist very old incidents upon us with only a slight change of costume. from the time of xerxes downwards, we have seen generals playing the braggadocio at the outset of their campaigns, and conquering the enemy with the greatest ease in after-dinner speeches. but events are apt to be in disgusting discrepancy with the anticipations of the most ingenious tacticians; the difficulties of the expedition are ridiculously at variance with able calculations; the enemy has the impudence not to fall into confusion as had been reasonably expected of him; the mind of the gallant general begins to be distracted by news of intrigues against him at home, and, notwithstanding the handsome compliments he paid to providence as his undoubted patron before setting out, there seems every probability that the te deums will be all on the other side.
so it fell out with mr. dempster in his memorable campaign against the tryanites. after all the premature triumph of the return from elmstoke, the battle of the evening lecture had been lost; the enemy was in possession of the field; and the utmost hope remaining was, that by a harassing guerilla warfare he might be driven to evacuate the country.
for some time this sort of warfare was kept up with considerable spirit. the shafts of milby ridicule were made more formidable by being poisoned with calumny; and very ugly stories, narrated with circumstantial minuteness, were soon in circulation concerning mr. tryan and his hearers, from which stories it was plainly deducible that evangelicalism led by a necessary consequence to hypocritical indulgence in vice. some old friendships were broken asunder, and there were near relations who felt that religious differences, unmitigated by any prospect of a legacy, were a sufficient ground for exhibiting their family antipathy. mr. budd harangued his workmen, and threatened them with dismissal if they or their families were known to attend the evening lecture; and mr. tomlinson, on discovering that his foreman was a rank tryanite, blustered to a great extent, and would have cashiered that valuable functionary on the spot, if such a retributive procedure had not been inconvenient.
on the whole, however, at the end of a few months, the balance of substantial loss was on the side of the anti-tryanites. mr. pratt, indeed, had lost a patient or two besides mr. dempster’s family; but as it was evident that evangelicalism had not dried up the stream of his anecdote, or in the least altered his view of any lady’s constitution, it is probable that a change accompanied by so few outward and visible signs, was rather the pretext than the ground of his dismissal in those additional cases. mr. dunn was threatened with the loss of several good customers, mrs. phipps and mrs. lowme having set the example of ordering him to send in his bill; and the draper began to look forward to his next stock-taking with an anxiety which was but slightly mitigated by the parallel his wife suggested between his own case and that of shadrach, meshech, and abednego, who were thrust into a burning fiery furnace. for, as he observed to her the next morning, with that perspicacity which belongs to the period of shaving, whereas their deliverance consisted in the fact that their linen and woollen goods were not consumed, his own deliverance lay in precisely the opposite result. but convenience, that admirable branch system from the main line of self-interest, makes us all fellow-helpers in spite of adverse resolutions. it is probable that no speculative or theological hatred would be ultimately strong enough to resist the persuasive power of convenience: that a latitudinarian baker, whose bread was honourably free from alum, would command the custom of any dyspeptic puseyite; that an arminian with the toothache would prefer a skilful calvinistic dentist to a bungler stanch against the doctrines of election and final perseverance, who would be likely to break the tooth in his head; and that a plymouth brother, who had a well furnished grocery shop in a favourable vicinage, would occasionally have the pleasure of furnishing sugar or vinegar to orthodox families that found themselves unexpectedly ‘out of’ those indispensable commodities. in this persuasive power of convenience lay mr. dunn’s ultimate security from martyrdom. his drapery was the best in milby; the comfortable use and wont of procuring satisfactory articles at a moment’s notice proved too strong for anti-tryanite zeal; and the draper could soon look forward to his next stock-taking without the support of a scriptural parallel.
on the other hand, mr. dempster had lost his excellent client, mr. jerome—a loss which galled him out of proportion to the mere monetary deficit it represented. the attorney loved money, but he loved power still better. he had always been proud of having early won the confidence of a conventicle-goer, and of being able to ‘turn the prop of salem round his thumb’. like most other men, too, he had a certain kindness towards those who had employed him when he was only starting in life; and just as we do not like to part with an old weather-glass from our study, or a two-feet ruler that we have carried in our pocket ever since we began business, so mr. dempster did not like having to erase his old client’s name from the accustomed drawer in the bureau. our habitual life is like a wall hung with pictures, which has been shone on by the suns of many years: take one of the pictures away, and it leaves a definite blank space, to which our eyes can never turn without a sensation of discomfort. nay, the involuntary loss of any familiar object almost always brings a chill as from an evil omen; it seems to be the first finger-shadow of advancing death.
from all these causes combined, mr. dempster could never think of his lost client without strong irritation, and the very sight of mr. jerome passing in the street was wormwood to him.
one day, when the old gentleman was coming up orchard street on his roan mare, shaking the bridle, and tickling her flank with the whip as usual, though there was a perfect mutual understanding that she was not to quicken her pace, janet happened to be on her own door-step, and he could not resist the temptation of stopping to speak to that ‘nice little woman’, as he always called her, though she was taller than all the rest of his feminine acquaintances. janet, in spite of her disposition to take her husband’s part in all public matters, could bear no malice against her old friend; so they shook hands.
‘well, mrs. dempster, i’m sorry to my heart not to see you sometimes, that i am,’ said mr. jerome, in a plaintive tone. ‘but if you’ve got any poor people as wants help, and you know’s deservin’, send ’em to me, send ’em to me, just the same.’
‘thank you, mr. jerome, that i will. good-bye.’
janet made the interview as short as she could, but it was not short enough to escape the observation of her husband, who, as she feared, was on his mid-day return from his office at the other end of the street, and this offence of hers, in speaking to mr. jerome, was the frequently recurring theme of mr. dempster’s objurgatory domestic eloquence.
associating the loss of his old client with mr. tryan’s influence, dempster began to know more distinctly why he hated the obnoxious curate. but a passionate hate, as well as a passionate love, demands some leisure and mental freedom. persecution and revenge, like courtship and toadyism, will not prosper without a considerable expenditure of time and ingenuity, and these are not to spare with a man whose law-business and liver are both beginning to show unpleasant symptoms. such was the disagreeable turn affairs were taking with mr. dempster, and, like the general distracted by home intrigues, he was too much harassed himself to lay ingenious plans for harassing the enemy.
meanwhile, the evening lecture drew larger and larger congregations; not perhaps attracting many from that select aristocratic circle in which the lowmes and pittmans were predominant, but winning the larger proportion of mr. crewe’s morning and afternoon hearers, and thinning mr. stickney’s evening audiences at salem. evangelicalism was making its way in milby, and gradually diffusing its subtle odour into chambers that were bolted and barred against it. the movement, like all other religious ‘revivals’, had a mixed effect. religious ideas have the fate of melodies, which, once set afloat in the world, are taken up by all sorts of instruments, some of them woefully coarse, feeble, or out of tune, until people are in danger of crying out that the melody itself is detestable. it may be that some of mr. tryan’s hearers had gained a religious vocabulary rather than religious experience; that here and there a weaver’s wife, who, a few months before, had been simply a silly slattern, was converted into that more complex nuisance, a silly and sanctimonious slattern; that the old adam, with the pertinacity of middle age, continued to tell fibs behind the counter, notwithstanding the new adam’s addiction to bible-reading and family prayer: that the children in the paddiford sunday school had their memories crammed with phrases about the blood of cleansing, imputed righteousness, and justification by faith alone, which an experience lying principally in chuck-farthing, hop-scotch, parental slappings, and longings after unattainable lollypop, served rather to darken than to illustrate; and that at milby, in those distant days, as in all other times and places where the mental atmosphere is changing, and men are inhaling the stimulus of new ideas, folly often mistook itself for wisdom, ignorance gave itself airs of knowledge, and selfishness, turning its eyes upward, called itself religion.
nevertheless, evangelicalism had brought into palpable existence and operation in milby society that idea of duty, that recognition of something to be lived for beyond the mere satisfaction of self, which is to the moral life what the addition of a great central ganglion is to animal life. no man can begin to mould himself on a faith or an idea without rising to a higher order of experience: a principle of subordination, of self-mastery, has been introduced into his nature; he is no longer a mere bundle of impressions, desires, and impulses. whatever might be the weaknesses of the ladies who pruned the luxuriance of their lace and ribbons, cut out garments for the poor, distributed tracts, quoted scripture, and defined the true gospel, they had learned this—that there was a divine work to be done in life, a rule of goodness higher than the opinion of their neighbours; and if the notion of a heaven in reserve for themselves was a little too prominent, yet the theory of fitness for that heaven consisted in purity of heart, in christ-like compassion, in the subduing of selfish desires. they might give the name of piety to much that was only puritanic egoism; they might call many things sin that were not sin; but they had at least the feeling that sin was to be avoided and resisted, and colour-blindness, which may mistake drab for scarlet, is better than total blindness, which sees no distinction of colour at all. miss rebecca linnet, in quiet attire, with a somewhat excessive solemnity of countenance, teaching at the sunday school, visiting the poor, and striving after a standard of purity and goodness, had surely more moral loveliness than in those flaunting peony-days, when she had no other model than the costumes of the heroines in the circulating library. miss eliza pratt, listening in rapt attention to mr. tryan’s evening lecture, no doubt found evangelical channels for vanity and egoism; but she was clearly in moral advance of miss phipps giggling under her feathers at old mr. crewe’s peculiarities of enunciation. and even elderly fathers and mothers, with minds, like mrs. linnet’s, too tough to imbibe much doctrine, were the better for having their hearts inclined towards the new preacher as a messenger from god. they became ashamed, perhaps, of their evil tempers, ashamed of their worldliness, ashamed of their trivial, futile past. the first condition of human goodness is something to love; the second, something to reverence. and this latter precious gift was brought to milby by mr. tryan and evangelicalism.
yes, the movement was good, though it had that mixture of folly and evil which often makes what is good an offence to feeble and fastidious minds, who want human actions and characters riddled through the sieve of their own ideas, before they can accord their sympathy or admiration. such minds, i daresay, would have found mr. tryan’s character very much in need of that riddling process. the blessed work of helping the world forward, happily does not wait to be done by perfect men; and i should imagine that neither luther nor john bunyan, for example, would have satisfied the modern demand for an ideal hero, who believes nothing but what is true, feels nothing but what is exalted, and does nothing but what is graceful. the real heroes, of god’s making, are quite different: they have their natural heritage of love and conscience which they drew in with their mother’s milk; they know one or two of those deep spiritual truths which are only to be won by long wrestling with their own sins and their own sorrows; they have earned faith and strength so far as they have done genuine work; but the rest is dry barren theory, blank prejudice, vague hearsay. their insight is blended with mere opinion; their sympathy is perhaps confined in narrow conduits of doctrine, instead of flowing forth with the freedom of a stream that blesses every weed in its course; obstinacy or self-assertion will often interfuse itself with their grandest impulses; and their very deeds of self-sacrifice are sometimes only the rebound of a passionate egoism. so it was with mr. tryan: and any one looking at him with the bird’s-eye glance of a critic might perhaps say that he made the mistake of identifying christianity with a too narrow doctrinal system; that he saw god’s work too exclusively in antagonism to the world, the flesh, and the devil; that his intellectual culture was too limited—and so on; making mr. tryan the text for a wise discourse on the characteristics of the evangelical school in his day.
but i am not poised at that lofty height. i am on the level and in the press with him, as he struggles his way along the stony road, through the crowd of unloving fellow-men. he is stumbling, perhaps; his heart now beats fast with dread, now heavily with anguish; his eyes are sometimes dim with tears, which he makes haste to dash away; he pushes manfully on, with fluctuating faith and courage, with a sensitive failing body; at last he falls, the struggle is ended, and the crowd closes over the space he has left.
‘one of the evangelical clergy, a disciple of venn,’ says the critic from his bird’s-eye station. ‘not a remarkable specimen; the anatomy and habits of his species have been determined long ago.’
yet surely, surely the only true knowledge of our fellow-man is that which enables us to feel with him—which gives us a fine ear for the heart-pulses that are beating under the mere clothes of circumstance and opinion. our subtlest analysis of schools and sects must miss the essential truth, unless it be lit up by the love that sees in all forms of human thought and work, the life and death struggles of separate human beings.
