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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour itre reproduit en un seul clichi, il est film* i partir de Tangle supArieur gauche, de gauche i droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images nteessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mAthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MKROCOTY MSOLUTION TBT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) A APPLIED IN/MGE ,nc 16J3 East Main StrMt Rochcsltr, New Yorti 14609 (716) 462 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288 - 5989 - Fox USA The Way of All Flesh It.^ °"* •^'^ *?. ^''^ °^ Engltth Literatw « ^J^ "^ "^ «t"ordinary a study of EavlMh lift m httle impmnoQ that wh«, wme yean Uter, I produce pUy m which Butler', extraordinarily fre.h fiWwd Nilt^. * ^^..'•^"u' ^''"°8- about Ibaen and E^t'nle;.'' ^'*''^' ^"^ ^"^'"'^ do not deaervc to G. Bernard Shaw io Preftce to "Major Barbanu" The Way of All Flesh Samuel Butler Auxhot 1 -Irtwhon," -Ireirhoa Rcviiitad' ' We know that all thingi worl together for good to them that love God."-.RoM. riii. a8 NintA ImfrtusM »f Stcmd Edtt^ London: A. C. Fifield Toronto: William Briggs 1916 Fint Puhliiktd in 190) Hipublhhta in 190! Ktfrinttd in Rtfrinttd in Rtprinttd in Rtfrinttd in Rifrinttd in Rtfrinttd in Rtprinttd in 1910 1910 1911 191a 191J 1914 1915 1916 All Rifhts ReMrvcd Note temporaneous with " Ufc and Habit •• -n^l t 1 ?"* siffs .srt i^?^ "^^^ Its prwent fonn. I found that tteMS „« rt P?''™*'' 'n «tli chapters had d/Mro^ L, k "" '?^ »"'' comparing vario™ »r^'^i^«^''„S""*^ "f •"oiig his papere, I have b^ !ku7 ' "™<*^n»«»«d aBy from that which L. finZ^pS. ^rS?" ""I"*- R» A. Streatfeild. The Way of All Flesh CHAPTER I When I was a small boy at the beginning of the century I remember an old man who wore knee-breeches and worsted stoddngp, and who used to hobble about the street of our village with the help of a stick. He must have been getting on for eighty in the year 1807, earher than which date I suppose I can hardly remember him, for I was bom in 1802. A few white locks hung about his ears, his shoulders were bent and his knees feeble, but he was still hale, and was much respected in our Uttle world of Paleham. His name was Pontifex. His wife was said to be his master ; I have been told she brought him a httle money, but it cannot have been much. She was a tall, square-shouldered person (I have heard my father call her a Gothic woman) who had insisted on being married to Mr Pontifex when he was young and too good- natured to say nay to any woman who wooed him. The pair had Uved not unhappily together, for Mr Pontifex's ton^r was easy and he soon learned to bow before his wife s more stormy moods. Mr Pontifex was a carpenter by trade ; he was also at one time parish clerk ; when I remember him, however, he had 80 far risen in Hfe as to be no longer compelled to work vnth his own hands. In his earlier days he had taught himself to draw. I do not say he drew well, but it was surprismg he should draw as well as he did. My father, who took the hving of Paleham about the year 1797, became p^sessed of a good many of old Mr Pontifex^s drawings, which were always of local subjects, and so unaffectedly painstaking that they might have passed for the work of Not content with h.- ^ ^'""S they « «?od Snstitut,V?n "° °*her capiiS fS"''^f ' ^^ he had L carried r^ . *° orchard ti; '^'^ ^ouse wifK , ® ^ent oniament J^?*^^ "^ ^oneysuS?«f ^^^ Close, ij?^ «>«W "'^"S a?p,^,1>« W,? Pj.'"" half iifled „«, ,, "* Wu« Of u„';^^that^p^ The Way of AH Flesh 3 chimney-piece, which Mr PontifexhimseUhadoainteH. ti,. tniap»reacy o the man coming to ^ UriSto a 'ool Se Pnn*Jf« 7 •? ^"^SS us to the second generation of the Pontifex family with whom we need concern ouredm 6 The Way of All Flesh i CHAPTER II Old Mr Pontifex had married in the year 1750, but fifteen years his wife bore no children. At the end of tl time Mrs Pontifex astonished the whole village by showi unmistakable signs of a disposition to present her husba with an heir or heiress. Hers had long ago been consider a hopeless case, and when on consulting the doctor concer mg the meamng of certain symptoms she was informed tneir significance, she became very angry and abused t doctor roundly for talking nonsense. She refused to put much as a piece of thread into a needle in anticipation of h confinenient and would have been absolutely unprepared her neighbours had not been better judges of her conditi'c than she was and got things ready without telling her an thing about it. Perhaps she feared Nemesis, though assu edly she knew not who or what Nemesis was ; perhaps si feared the doctor had made a mistake and she should 1 laughed at ; from whatever cause, however, her refusal 1 recogjuse the obvious arose, she certainly refused to recoi mse It, untd one snowy night in January the doctor was ser for witti aU urgent speed across the rough country road When he amved he found two patients, not one, in need c lus assistance, for a boy had been bom who was in due lim *^ J?! tSf T' ^,^"^o"?- o* ^^ then reigning majestj To the best of my btuef George Pontifex got 5ie greate part of his nature from this obstinate old lady, his mothe —a mother who though she loved no one else in the worl except her husband (and him only after a fashion) was mos tenderly attached to the unexp cted child of her old age nevertheless she showed it little. ^ »i^ti^y ^^7- "/i^*"' * ^*"^^y bright-eyed Uttle fellow with plenty of intelligence, and perhaps a trifle too greai readiness at book learning. Being kindly treated at home he was as fond of his father and mother as it was in hi< nature to be of anyone, but he was fond of no one else. He had a good healthy sense of meum, and as Uttle of tuum as he could help. Brought up much in the open air in one of the The Way of All Flesh 7 best situated and healthiest viUages in England, his Uttle limbs had fair play, and in those days children's brains were not overtasked as they now are ; perhaps it was for this very reason that the boy showed an avidity to leam. At seven or eight years old he could read, write and sum better than any other boy of his age in the village. My father was not yet ^^ M jv o'/^eham, and did not remember George Pontifex's childhood, but I have heard neighbours tell him that the boy was looked upon as unusuaUy quick and forward. His father and mother were naturally proud of their offspring and his mother was determined that he should one day be- come one of the kings and councillors of the earth. It is one thing however to resolve that one's son shall win some of hfe s larger prizes, and another to square matters with fortune m this respect. George Pontifex might have been brought up as a carpenter and succeeded in no other way than as succeeding his father as one of the minor magnates of Paleham, and yet have been a more truly suc- cessful man than he actually was— for I take it there is not much more soHd success in this worid than what fell to the lot of old Mr and Mrs Pontifex ; it happened, however, that about tiie year 1780, when George was a boy of fifteen, a sister of Mrs Pontifex's, who had married a Mr FairUe, came to pay a few days' visit at Paleham. Mr FairUe was a pub- lisher, chiefly of religious works, and had an estabUshment in Paternoster Row ; he had risen in hfe, and his wife had risen with hun. No very close relations had been main- tamed between the sisters for some years, and I forget exactly how it came about that Mr and Mrs Fairlie were gu^ts m the quiet but exceedingly comfortable house of theu- sister and brother-in-law ; but for some reason or other the visit was paid, and little George soon succeeded in making his way mto his uncle and aunt's good graces. A qmck, intelligent boy with a good address, a sound constitu- tion, and coming of respectable parents, has a potential value which a practised business man who has need of many subordmates is little hkdy to overtook. Before his visit was over Mr Fairlie proposed to the lad's father and mother that he should put him into his own business, at the same time promising that if the boy did weU he sho Ud not want some 8 The Way of All Flesh l^r!!.^ "^ '^T^ "■» Pontifex had her nor totoMt too much .t heart to refuM ,uch an^w^ u wK* Si. iJlii"?' *^ ""*."•? ""y "x^ to Londo, ^«i£i„^hi-l°^-^'--''^~ 5^f&?ors-ss^w^|^r,^,Ss| and ere long his parents perceived that he had icaS i^ evwto tave fdt again for man, woman, or child George's visit, to Paleham were nevS SiTfOT th, *.. had been so long accustomed in Patemosttt Row whirh guages and had rapidly and easily mastered wSrm^; The Way of AH Flesh 9 Ute hB father, he knew the value of money, but hewS?t once more ostentatious and less liberal thkn hi. fIT "ffl^tSe**** h^co-JI gi" ^ aSo'^t'^.SS^nrtl^ articulate way the father lie^t^ecU^^VfLt fi!!: l«ian ^1500 a year as his share of the profite Two vp^ »o The Way of AH Flesh I CHAPTER III ^SUS^^ y«wi of the century five little chfldren a « Ml needicM to say they were a rising generation of P( fexw. towwds whom the old coupK^ tLSImmd™ were as t«,derly deferential as ihtywombJ^S^. ^^i^l*^i^**V^"**"*°*°'^«Count^'^Tto^ wwe Ehza. Mana John, Theobald (who mce mw^ bora in 1802 , and Aletiiea. Mr Pontifex ilwavfw 1^'' master " or " miss " before Sen^SS^^ ,^^i ^''^^Pt m the case of Aletiiea. whTwM lS\SS m;J^^ w* '?**^^ ^ grandchildren would have b^ M^i« Jf ^^ i°>^*^ '^*«d his wifel «^ ^Pontifex yield«i before her son's children. aSlg S^ J^J?^*^ °' V^*"~ ^»^<=h »he would ie™ f Sr^s^rr^i^^o^-^^^^^-ti'^^'K-^^ #«^^f * the Rectorir tiiere was no time so much lool SSl w *^' *^^^ ^* °^ *^ littie PonS^S w?^;. ^^ "^l^ t" ^'"^ °^ ^ prevailing U^c £l^^ our young hiends were asked to the ^^ ^tea with us. and we had what we consid^S^ times. IMdesperatdyinlovewitiiAletiieMnd»dJS^ fdl m love >dtii each otter. pluraUty and^SSwwlS, ^^t tw^*^ being^penly Ld mibS^y^v «^^^.7?^P'^"ceofournurses. Wewere^ ^Si,^"* '* " f ^°"S ^° that I have forgottin^ S?l^tw"¥r iT^? '"^ ^ » PermSent i^^i^n w ^ o^ 1?* ^^baW one day beat his nurse and tea« ^e K?c «<: "-^"t y^"* **° P^'P"^ to torment you, une wmter's mornmg. however, in tiie year iSii.we h«u The Way of All Flesh n assured u« that iffeod dSSf '^J^i!? •?, ^^ «" °«« but mora comiMssHiv .. _^^ ^ ■'^''•'' « "ept, would ta 11^^^'.^ ^JT""««<» ♦ '»t S PontifexV "° '*'^ 'or » now »t oW Mn uncommon at tt^ b^i^^^ *° • «"*»■» stiU not ^^f™aitne6epnnaig of the century; the loaf wm Ste^^h w^hSdoiw.jf'?'?' uS'cuZrw^ c^^&tSlS-TS'"™ portam* wh^ tr';^.„'''^''"' "d the Sense of aJ [with ««^wrc".^nSr^^^*^- '« The Way of All Flesh heaven and a Mw«.iK{!ju***''^««»lt*tion: i caption TihJZ^.}^^J^^^^d to u. in iu^ o«^r::^^aedWdr.* iS --- I*rte was an actuaUyS^n^ ^* ?*i^l~" »« •great man coddoiJyCSE^J* Wehadthoughti here he wa. after ^^^Z^t^!^^/^ «««V. This lent colour to the vi?w ^hll ^J^rf * °^' ^^^i dc might indeed be n^tlSS wihtV^K** ^t^ °' J"«* °°^ < ttowlaylon^anrj^Vt^d^^LnSTh V *^^ ^y» now, and the milk wm^S.^?^'^ *°^® ^^ ^^^ it d winter, and we wws TSeS^ditir-^* ^2"«?* ^" ^o^*" «« it. I supp^there ai^T/"*° *^ ^""^ Etcher «>«ntry now Xre Sf SiuTcom^ ?„'^ "^ *"^ ^^ winter, and the children ^o SS?/" ^^" sometimes never see any fitttan mnt f« t ^ *° ^^^^^^ at it, bu h^'died TheoldS^i^Jfy^^^^f^Wmthedaybefc haa two steps builtup alaii,f f5,f^"i»"°*«t«. ind h on which he'wed to rtL1^^**t^ftr *^* ^**^^ «*"* ev« it was clear. My fath^cSi^^-*^8^^^^1»« ust as the sun was^tSJ? L^ *?.*^ "» *h« aftemoo: J^Sonthetopof^e^:S?&w1S^,S*^^ through which there was a nffh ?^?*?®*""overafie] My father heard hiisT^'cS^b^ Y^"^ "^^ '^^^^r wa as tlw sun sank, and mw b^^^' '"°i «o°d-hye. sun. -feeling very feebr '^t! ^ttl^, £- ^ There was no dole. Some of his grandchildren wen The Way of AH Flesh 13 ^-jht to the funeral and we remonstrated with th«m kn* L"oW^Srt**y*^^'°J JohnpJSifexTiSr;^* f 5fr*^ I wat, sneered at penny teavi widTd land we were aU of us put to some ignominy but vm Wi Jbeen tiboroughly awakened from our k at the Montanvert, however, he must have been obliged [commit himself definitely to one reading or another. ang the verses all round, I should say that Mr Pontifex right in considering them suitable to the day ; I don't being too hard even on the Mer de Glace, so will give opinion as to whether they are suitable to the scene it Pontifex went on to the Great St Bernard and there [wrote some more verses, this time I am afraid in Latin. also took good care to be properly impressed by the spice and its situation. " The whole of this most extra- iinary journey seemed like a dream, its conclusion edally, in gentlonanly society, with every comfort and Dmmodation amidst tiie rudest rocks and in the region I perpetual snow. The thought that I was sleeping m a nvent and occupied the bed of no less a person than Eipoleon, that I was in the highest inhabited spot in the ^ world and in a place celebrated in every part of it, kept awake some time." As a contrast to this, I may quote ^re an extract from a letter written to me last year by his uidson Ernest, of whom the reader will hear more pre- itly. The passage runs : " I went up to the Great St mard and saw the dogs." In due course Mr Pontifex lund his way into Italy, where the pictures and other works 1 art— those, at least, which were fashionable at that time [-threw him into genteel paroxysms of admiration. Of the Iffizi Gallery at Florence he writes : " I have spent three T)urs this morning in the gallery and I have made up my ind that if of all the treasures I have seen in Italy I were » choose one room it would be the Tribune of this gallery. : contains the Venus de* Medici, the Explorator, the Pan- itist, th* Dandng Faun and a fine Apollo. These mofe ^ The Way of All F] '^rt''-" nistatoifeT °' "» greats m^ ^ that it waJnXS,^ n"^?"- "the a ~»tafas a worl/^?^ ^^i?* « in fifteen^ J Flesh I The Way of All Flesh 17 1 visitors were recognizing him and admiring him for sit- fg such a long time in the same chair, and how often he T vexed at seemg them pass him by and take no notice of I. But perhaps if the truth were known his two hours was kt qmte two hours. jRetuming to Mr Pontifex, whether he liked what he he- lved to belhe masterpieces of Greek and Italian art or no •1 brought back some copies by Italian artists, which I have ) doubt he satisfied himself would bear the strictest exam- a^on with the originals. Two of these copies fell to Theo- Id s share on the division of his father's furniture, and I fve often seen them at Battersby on my visits to Theobald lid his wife. The one was a Madonna by Sassoferrato with a lue hood over her head which threw it half into shadow, lie other was a Magdalen I , Carlo Dolci with a very fine fcad of hair and a marble vase in her hands. When I was a bung man I used to think these pictures were beautiful, but kth each successive visit to Battersby I got to dishke them lore and more and to see " Gtorge Pontifex " written aU Vn both of them. In the end I ventured after a tentative shion to blow on them a httle, but Theobald and his wife ere up in arms at once. They did not hke their father and ^ther-m-law, but there could be no question about his Dwer and general ability, nor about his having been a man consummate taste both in literature and art— indeed the y he kept during his foreign tour was enough to prove With one more short extract I will leave this diary and ^oceed with my story. During his stay in Florence Mr Pon- fex wrote : " I have just seen the Grand Duke and his -Illy pass by in two carriages and six, but little more no- is taken of them than if I, who am utterly unknown ere. were to pass by." I don't thmk that he half beheved in " being utterly unknown in Florence or anywhere else I 1 8 The Way of All Fles CHAPTER V \ 1 FoiTONB, we are told, is a blind and fickle foster ^ do^rJlv ^^^ t^ '^^°" upon S; nSJS^ we do her a grave injustice if we beUeve such an aS o^^H^I^;?*^*^^*''^^- You will tod^aT^ once dead she can for the most part be vindiSteTfi chaige of any but very superficikl ficklenSr H^r M SetaJSrm W^' ^e cIS espy K^^t^?^ mey are born. We are as days and have had our r^. our yesterdays, but through aU SelS w^Sf J^' parental dcy the eve of Fortunr^dS^S,^ . storm, and she laugL as she places W fSt^t |n»es^SdrSSst^^^^^ S|dfa^%-t^^7i£H^^ «^* ^tI .' ^ ^acimus, Fortuna, deam," exclaim* Sll'i, lif V 1^° °l^" ^^' Fortune, 'a gSS^' so It a, after Fortune has made us ahiA i « ^^^f poet says nothing as to the^^ of L "^'^^ some men are independent of anteS.Spn^««5 ^^ jmd have an initiaTforce vSSSSvStSri way due to causation ; but this is sun^SZT+rki fl question and it may be as wS?o avofdlTfi? -^ «^ 2joige Pontifex di^ not cSder S^i f^ul"^ who does not consider himself forW^-Zrl*®* *" The Flesh I The Way of All Flesh 19 lain strength lay in the fact that though his capacity was a ttle above the average, it was not too much so. It is on this that so many clever people split. The successful man see just so much more than his neighbours as they will hie to see too when it is shown them, but not enough to le them. It is far safer to know too little than too much >ple will condemn the one, though they will resent being led upon to exert themselves to follow the other. ^^ lie best example of Mr Pontifex's good sense in matters >nnected with his business which I can think of at this mo- lent is the revolution which he effected in the style of ad- ^rtising works published by the firm. When he first \)e. le a partner one of the firm's advertisements ran thus :— ' Books proper to be given away at this Season. The Pious Country Parishioner, being directions how a istian may manage every day in the course of his whole ie with safety and success ; how to spend the Sabbath Day ; that books of thv .loly Scripture ought to be read first ; the rhole method of education ; collects for the most important Hrtues that adorn the soul ; a discourse on the Lord's apper ; rules to set the soul right in sickness ; so that in this eatise are contained all the rules requisite for salvation. be 8th edition with additions. Price lod. •♦♦An allowance will be made to those who give them way. Before he had been many years a partner the advertise- tent stood as follows :~ "The Pious Country Parishioner. A complete manual I Christian Devotion. Price lod. A reduction will be made to purchasers for gratuitous Istnbution." What a stride is made in the foregoing towards the kodem standard, and what inteHigence is involved in the ?tion of the unseemlii.*^ of the old style, when others not perceive it I Where then was the weak place in George Pontifex's rmour ? I suppose in the fact that he had risen too rapidly. would almost seem as if a transmitted education of some 20 The Way of All Fles man i«-ii y ***PPens tnat the grandson of a «Mir torn tt^axSwSw^ ; he is a new aninul. s and it TwSfcf„™S^!?f .?' °*"y unfamiliar ele Fowl ^h?,^"^^',^^^"'^ • °' r ba.«ain!^tlu^wasaCS*slril^°r° "*" two are like God and MSn^H^"^'?'\'^- «ge in which he cont^SZ pl^tSSf^.*^ * ' down natural pC^^ ; h^^iufe^Ti^^*^^"^ « P«an, and it St Lt tti !±? i?* J««niad countenance. ^ "** ^^^ *^»s«« of all tim< dr^ ^^^'^SLn W? ^KiL^'*«« »*«™er with 1 • good deal oftSer buJS^*™?*^^»°d8onM everyone else has ttem bu??J^^^ ^""f J""*** ^^ Jfsufts have no^g whiteJL w^ "^"^ blamelessness of him wh« w2 °x1° ^*^ *he moral c •^ly uponThe tW d^e^,?^««.,»bout ; they \ The moral gmit orKd^^^'S;'* "^^ ^?^ to do with the resi^T^^r^^ ^ ^^ manner £a m sufficient aml^of JelSle^^ question whe was placed would ^vT^^}^Jl^^^^ Placed as the timeitwasumv2,SJyaSedS^.*?'^^^«- ^i to spoil the child. WstStJh«!?**i*° *f *™ *^« ro< parents in very udvcomLnt ???.P^^disobediei3 which Mr PontifSS£??i^* " ^ children did any their father. In tS^^^fc^.^ff'y^^^ their father. In tS^^'^L''^<^T'ydisobed& courae for a sensible m^To fa^ T °™"«^ only the fast signs of self-^whifewk in? °^**** ^ ^« to offer serious resistance Ifth.?f„T^^^ ^^^ *oo y< m chadhood. to^^SpJISon tw' ^^'\'>eU bn)k would acquire hahifT/T* u^°° "*®° much in voeue 1 venture'STei'uSouk'fe ^^^ ^d -r*rs old. Then they^S^ght n& .k^^ ^^ *^«»ty- know how to protect^SdfP^STfS^^^' • ^ ^^ Flesh I The Way of AH Flesh 23 Ddeed« yet ; but our reflex reflections I Man, fonooth, ndes himself on his consciousness i We boast that we fier irom the winds and waves and falling stones and blants, which grow they know not why, and from the mdering creatures which go up and down after their prey, we are pleased to say without the help of reason. We aow so well what we are doing ourselves and why we do it, J we not ? I fancy that there is some truth in the view vhich is being put forward nowadays, that it is our less con- cious thoughts and our less conscious actions which mainly nould our lives and the lives of those who spring from us. CHAPTER VI IR PoNTiFEX was not the man to trouble himself much ibout his motives. People were not so introspective then as ve are now ; they lived more according to a rule of thumb. )r Arnold had not yet sown that crop of earnest thinkers »rhich we are now harvesting, and men did not s»0 why they hould not have their own way if no evil consequences to Itoiselves seemed likely to foUow upon their doing so. ^len as now, however, they sometimes let themselves in for lore evil consequences than they had bargained for. Like other rich men at the beginning of this century he ate land drank a good deal more than was enough to keq> him in jhealth. Even his excellent constitution was not proof Jagainst a prolonged course of overfeeding and what we ■should now consider overdrinking. His liver would not un- Ifrequently get out of order, and he would come down to Ibreakfast looking yellow about the eyes. Then the young [people knew that they had better look out. It is not as a Igeneral rule the eating of sour grapes that causes the chil- [dren's teeth to be set on edge. Well-to-do parents seldom I eat many sour grapes ; the danger to the children lies in the I parents eatii g too many sweet ones. I grant th^t at first sight it seems very unjust, that the I parents should have the fun and the children be punished '1 J** ^'y »'■ All FfcA parents have the fmf J/* ^** « reaUy Cd^."^ "» «' the children far m ' xl*^ »<>* see that fh. -j^^** ^« '^M them the S>4?r^?? *^?" ^'* <^t hhn^iif "k"*"^'* *^°«t helped the^Twte"! !?'^' ^^^ S;«C\?** mercy of their fa JhY^ "' ^^^ ensured fTS!:^.-"^ than whenVey^ScS^S'^':,^^^ after iev^H ^'"« ** the , The Way of All Flesh 25 „iirer OT • merbanic, and these are tha onlypeople whoM m of ccmne of those who are born inheritors of money or I are placed young in some safe and deep groove. Mr nbfex saw nothing of this ; aU he saw w£ that he was ending much more money upon his children than the law mid have conipclled him to do, and what more could you tnLJ^IS J iS"?! u*^* apprenticed both his sons to tengTKcrs ? Might he not even yet do so to-morrow ommg If he were so minded ? The possibility of this ursc being adopted was a favourite topic with him when J was out of temper ; true, he never did apprentice either L^^lf? i° SrtengcoctTs, but his boys comparing notes Kli ^**^ 8<>n»etimes come to the conclusion that they isnea ne would. ' I At other times when not quite weU he would have them in k the fun of sh^ng his will at them. He would SlS Pagination cut them all out one after another and leave "oney to found almshouses, till at last he was obliged iSt^hl r^^' '°- ^^V ^^ ™8^* ^^*^ the pleasur?of ittjng them out agam the next time he was in a passion. I Of course if young people aUow their conduct to bJ taany ty mfluenced by regard to the wills of Uving persona thev te doing very wrong and must expect to be sufferers in th« fcd, nevertheless the powers of wiD-dangling and will- l^ng are so hable to abuse and are contiimSly made so leat an en^e of torture tnat I would pass a law. if I could. * mca^itate any man from making a will for three fc^°!? w ^^^l*"^ each offence in either of the above ^pects and let the bench of magistrates or judge, before bom he has been convicted, dispose of his pro^ as they t^i!'^''^ir^^l*"^ reasonable if he dies during the tiiS fat his wiU-makmg power is suspended. M aTu ^o"Jd>ve the boys into the dining-room. [My dear John my dear Theobald," he would sayf'MoSk few^^^ ^^\r^^ "°'^^S ^"* *h« <^l°«»es with which K^ /.^SMr*^'' ^"* "^^ "P ^^ Lo'^don. My father ad nL,^aif^'^ '^^^y "'^'th^'^ fi^« ^°^ pocket money krVinr^^* *?if™ ?»"°»ficent. I never asfied my fatha pr a shiUing m the whole course of my life, nor took aught ^ The Way of All Flesh «»~y you muiti»SJ1?^;'SL ".*""»• "yoow yo» my word I wUl ncrf te,~7!?~'?» •» I «<1. for I , i|!o» Ao* Uut y™ 4iS^i;P^y*<>«iU>«ofVoui3 «we never heard of when I ml aT^„*"^'''^»«» wh Wto^ cwting n» ever lo ni.Vhn^iS''' "* y"" **P<'1' 5»d h«l one hK Z; JSh*. *»" I «ot have i„° fW«. or found new S^T, !S? ' ^o" -Wd iK •»en then I doubt XrtS t^ "ndHcovered countriM^ "■reogh school and «i«L^„Hlif' ^?' ■». I •hail Jee?o j»»tor4^':a?u"r'ft»''<»«'"e.w«efo. !* ^niaJ ^ have never known iJ'^^V recogmsed by childnm^k faculty of emeJlJL o^aS^.^^^t ^^^ ^^e& stances Even if ^^, *^^ themselves S^^f astomshmg how easUy ^v i^^^-^ery nnhappyl-^ Jtout^r at any So^Kute^^ fi^m ^fil^L? than their own sinfuhiess. ""^^"*^ »t to any otheraiSe The Way of AU Flesh 27 .^0 pannti who wiih to lead a quiet Ule I would My : TeO ^ children that th^ are verv naughty— much naughtier 1 meet children. Point to the young people of tome ac* _ntancet at models of perfection and rnipreaa your ohh ildren with a deep aense of their own inferiority. You ly so many more guns than they do that they cannot bt you. This is called moral influence, and it wul enable .a to bounce them as much as you please. They think you kow and they will not have yet caught you lying often 'ough to suspect that you are not the unwoilSy and .r lously truthful person which you represent yourself to I ; uoT yet will they know how great a coward you are, nor Iw soon vou will run away, if they fisht you with persist- lev and judgement. You keep the dice and throw them Itn for your children and yourself. Load them then, for 4 can easily manage to stop vour children from examin- 'them. Tdl them how singularly indulgent you are ; in- It on the incalculable benefit you conferred upon them, htly in bringing them into the world at all, but more par- bularly in bringing them into it as your own chil^en kher than anyone else's. Say that you have their highest |terest8 at staike whenever you are out of temper and wish I make yourself unpleasant by way of balm to your souL arp much upon these highest mterests. Feed them spiritu- h u )on iuca brimstone and treacle as the late Bishop of rinchester's Sunday stories. You hold all the trump cards, r if you do not you can filch them ; if you play them with kything like judgement you will find yourselves heads of kppv, united. God-fearing families, even as did my old lend Mr Pontifex. True, your children will probably find kt all about it some day, but not until too late to be of bch service to them or inconvenience to yourself. I Some satirists have complained of life inasmuch as all the -sures belong to the fore part of it and we must see them ndle till we are left, it may be, with the miseries of a epit old age. [To me it seems that youth is like spring, an overpraised 'ason--delightful if it happen to be a favoured one, but practice very rarely favoured and more remarkable, as I general rule, for biting east winds than genial breezes. 'ike tte P^e wW'™*'' *M hurt ttat ». 2 ** *" "ffai- CHAPTER VII yoi^'^Dl''n J i^^y suffice for the greatpr . neither exactly preftt ^^ ^^*' ^^^ two dler^?/ ^°^^- spects mode] yJunlin? ^^f^^^ plain, and werf [^ ,T^« Prettv anH «* >1V""S iadies, but AUihL ^^ w all re. The Way of Ali Flesh 29 dedine. John knew how to humour his father, and I- * ^mparatively early age admitted to as much his confidence as it was in his nature to bestow on Jiyone. [!?l*'J°u*^? peobald was no match for him, knew it, and kcepted his fate. He was not so good-looking as his brother br was his address so good ; as a chUd he had been -. . >iej.*Iv ^ssionate ; now, however, he was reserved and iiy. aud I oold ^y, mdolent in mind and body. He « . s less tidy *n John, less well able to assert himself, and k i? .kUful in Qounng the capnces of his father. I do not tnink h« buld have loved ^yone heartily, but there wj^ no one in Es family circle who did not repress, rather than invite his ection, with the exception of his sister Alethea, and she too qmck and hvely for his somewhat morose temper, le w^ always the scapegoat, and I have sometimes thought t S V^u ^^^^^ *.° contend against-his father and his fother John ; a third and fourth also might ahnost be added k his sisters Ehza and Maria. Perhaps if he had felt his bndage very acutely he would not have put up with it but fe was constitutionaUy timid, and the strong hand of his Ither toitted hun mto the closest outward harmony with Is brother and sisters. ^ I The boys were of use to their father in one respect. I lean that he played them off against each other. He kept Ijrai but poorly suppUed with pocket money, and to Theo- Ud would urge that the claims of his elder brother were KP? parMnount, while he insisted to John upon the tr , \?^?^*^ * numerous family, and would aflinn wemnly timt his expenses were so heavy that at his death here would be very little to divide. He did not care nether they compared notes or no, provided they did not h^^?-^.E'"^?^®- Theobald did not comphin even timd his father s back. I knew him as intimately as anv- ^e was hkely to know him as a child, at school, and af ain t Umbndge, but he very rarely mentioned his fa&r's ine even while his father was aUve, and never once in my nng aftCTwards. At school he was not actively disliked his brother was, but he was too dull and deficient in '"""' spmts to be popular. 30 The Way of AM Flesh l«»d and was treated «^'*J^«rom Us euSii when his son „L^ .v '" *«« visftoraS;?' v """i' weU tta 5? bS *? *^ room. HesiSfe^^ 'i°"« "« *» rosy «flh ,„Tk .?? 'P°''e. too, with s.il* . P?ra«on of S»o or three ha^^^^T^ •''y "^ in for m< not be long first I mSi eSdii^/^"°'^^P' ^^^^^ *o tiler, and 1 St mS a uSI^ *° T* ^^^ °°*Wng ^ Pnpils. I trust y™u,^ n^ fT'i^Ku^ ^^^ ^^ ^ nothing is further^Ky^U^^' ^'""^ ^P«>J^ easiness. I hooe vnu^f i « *° ^"se you any i feelings w^t^nd^^d.^^^t^^^ Y^l P'^ respect for my con^jiiniTwirf ^. *^"i? ^"* ^°n> « stilled into me^as ySf pl^, T* """^ t^ ^ ^^^^n i shordy Ihopeyo^'SlsbSS^/^^S^,^--^-"" Mana, I ^, y^ur affectionate ^n, ^^^ ^' " Theobald Ponhfex." quite right and 2S Ct CS^f ^ of tS It j cept as regards one dSs«^ ypu should feel as you do ej will youiSf doubtilS liiSf! fy^°P™ty of which yo, will not further a5uS^ttorsS;^t*l?h'r^ *° 7^ You should not have said^in «^i * ** "^ wounded me in beariig^th?he^ burfen °f v^^^ ^ ^ ni should b?, as it WM Sf «2 y?"^ education, the monev yourlette;c"n^^Sr&;S,^e'°Sthf 7 ^"^ a morbid sensitiveness which HnYofThf^^iJ^"^** °^ devices for luring people toX?,?H5J?l^®^ * favourite you say, been ati^ex Jn J^^k^*^''*?^"- ^ ^^ve, as inghas-^beensparS^vS^r^^.P'^^tion. Noth. as an Enghsh^l^Xm^ Vw^o^°"*^*^^*^«.which,j but I am not prep^ed t^^iSft^^"* tJ **^°"* °^y ^on^ to have to b^ agS W S^ )?^°?* *^°^ ^^7 and I you have t^S^S ^rifS«' '^T^y b^use i you shotdd r^t as no lS^^1?o^y^S J^f '.^^^ Don t give way to that resiess d^S"fo?^e^lS' The Way of All Flesh 35 Ithe bane of to many persons of both sexes at the esent day. f ' Of course you needn't be ordained : nobody will compel Si; you are perfectly free ; you are twenty-three years of B, and should know your own mind ; but why not have own it sooner, instead of never so much as breathing a kt of opposition until I have had all the expense of send- i you to the University, which I should never have done [less I had beUeved you to have made up your mind about long orders ? I have letters from you m whidb you ex- »ss the most perfect willingness to be ordained, and your other and sisters will bear me out in saying that no pres- "i of any sort has been put upon you. You mistake your 1 mind, and are suffering from a nervous t'^nidity which ky be very natural but may not the less be pregnant with lous consequences to yourself. I am not at all well, and i anxiety occasioned by your letter is naturally piejong on me. May God guide you to a better judj'^ment. — |)ur affectionate father, q Pontifex." the receipt of this letter Theobald plucked up his Irits. " My father," he said to himself, " tells me I need be ordained if I do not like. I do not like, and therefore not be ordained. But what was the meaning of the rds ' pr^inant with serious consequences to yourself ' ? ^ there lurk a threat under these words— though it was ossible to lay hold of it or of them ? Were they not in- Ided to produce all the effect of a threat without being baliy threatening ? " Tieobald knew his father well enough to be Uttle likdy to apprehend his meaning, but having ventured so for on I path of opposition, and being really anxious to get out [being ordamed if he could, he determined to venture W. He accordingly wrote the following : [' My Dear Father,— You tell me— and I heartily thank ■ii— that no one will compel me to be ordained. I knew - would not press ordination upon mc if my conscience seriously opposed to it ; I have therefore resolved on up the idea, and believe that if you will continue to 3« The Way of All Flrah The remaining letter, written by return of oost mr now be given, it has the merit of brevitj. ^ ' ""^ G. PONTIFEX." Sa?^lr*v' ''"^ circumstances. ^eiS^YSs ^ The Way of All Flesh 37 CHAPTER IX If R Allaby was rector of Crampsford. a viUage a few mUes rom Cambndge. H ^ too, had taken a good degree, hau got i feUowship and in the course of time had acojptid a col- 'gehvi^ofaboutjf4ooayearandahouse. Hb private come did not exceed £200 a year. On resigning his aowship he mamed a woman a good deal youngerthan mself who bore him eleven children, nine of whom— two Dns and seven daughters-were Uving. Vat two eldest aughters had mamed fairly well, but at the tiine of which I 11 now wntmg there were still five unmarried, of ages vary- bg between thirty and twenty-two— and the sons were bther of them yet off their father's hands. It was plain tiatif anything were to happen to Mr Allaby the family fodd be left poorly off, and this made both Mr and Mra yiaby as imhappy as it ought to have made them. Reader, did you ever have an income at best none too j-ge, which died with you all except ^f 200 a year ? Did you vet at the same tine have two sons who must be started I life somehow, and five daughters still unmarried for Ihom you would only be too thankful to find husbands— if fcu knew how to find them ? If moraUty is that which, on te whole, bnngs a man peace in his declining years— if fat is to say, it is not an utter swindle, can you under >^ circumstances flatter yourself that you liave led a [And this, even though your wife has been so good a >oman that you have not grown tired of her, and has not ien into such iU-health as lowers your own health in mpathy ; and though your family has grown up vigorous, liable, and blessed with common sense. I know many old ien and women who are reputed moral, but who are hving *th partneis whom they have long ceased to love, or who fcve ugly disagreeable maiden daughters for whom they ave never been able to find husbands— daughters whom iey loatoe and by whom they are loathed in secret, or sons Ihose folly or extravagance is a perpetual wear and worry 38 The Way of All Flesh S?JST«ili\°'2'*^ for a mw to have brought toch thing nffSiK?^ Someone ah"* which she found ii^^ to 2Si^ ^1^^^"^- 7?'° *^^" ^d been weeks STSSrS iw^rra of hopes and fears and little stratagems whidTas to Se"e„°5* fri ^i?^<^ouS' ^d then sSw^SfliS l^M^ ' *?1? l^y *^® y^""? '"an bound and wittM JX t^^^i"if heart at herlaughter's feet. It^^ of rS^ti^ Sh^'^hf J'''? ^^ "^"^^ ^^^ "**^« «' '^o hope Dcri^ «S& A ^^. ""^^^ repeated it once, and migS perhaps with good luck repeat it yet once agaii— butfive ^r^^n "r^,a^«^^why%hewoT3nth«h5^ ^^^Te^te. """^'^ "^^ wear and tear ;i Nevertheless it had got to be done, and poor Mrs Allahv ^^^"^ V ^ y^'ffS man without an eJTto W^bS^^'J fiiture son-m-law. Papas and mammas some^i^i* s«Sie^?:;,^5r- *° ^-s wKrs: wifelSS^'lhfnnfr* ''"'■!.*^' my dear," said Mr Allaby to his ^t ^be te«^ W,^^'^°S^^* ^^ °«^t to li. don^ iriA f^r: ? *° ^^* ^^^ y°^S man to come and helo me for a time upon a Sunday. A ^inea a Sundav^ d? s^te ^^^^t"^ "^fS ?l<^hange Si we gefSnTih^ l^nna .f^*VSM^^^^^ *^' ^r baby's health to not sS strong as it had been, and that he stood in neS of hdn i^ the performance of his Sunday duty ^ " The Way of All Flesh 39 Mr» AlUby had a great fnend-a certain Mn Cowey. wife of the celebrated Profeilbr Cowey. She was what was called a taruly roirituaUy minded woman, a trifle portly, with an inapient beard, and an extensive connection among imdCTgraduates, more especially among those who were m- clined to take part in the great evangelical movement which was then at its height. She gave evening parties once a fort- night at winch prayer was part of the entertainment. She was not oiJy spiritually mmded, but, as enthusiastic Mrs ADaby used to exclaim, she was a thorough woman of the world at the same time and had such a fund of strong mas- culme good sense. She too had daughters, but, as she used to say to Mrs Allaby, she had been less fortunate than Mrs AUaby herself, for one by one they had married and tef t her so that her old age would have been desolate indeed if I her Professor had not been spared to her. I Mrs Cowey, of course, knew the run of all the bachelor clergy m the Umversity, and was the very person to assist Mrs Allaby m finding an eligible assistant for her husband^o this last named lady drove over one morning in the Novem- bcr of 1825, by arrangement, to take an early dinner with Mrs Cowey and spend the n moon. After dinner the two Udies retired together, and i , )usiness of the day began. How they fenced, how they sav through one another, with what loyalty they pretended not to see through one another, with what gentle dalliance they prolonged the conversation discussing the spiritual fitness of this or that deacon, and the lother pros and cons connected with him after his spiritual Ifitness had been disposed of, aU this must be left to the junagination of the reader. Mrs Cowey had been so accus- Itomed to scheming on her own account that she would jscheme for anyone rather than not scheme at all. Many Imothers turned to her in their hour of need and, provided Ithey were spiritually minded, Mrs Cowey never failed to do Iher best for them ; if the marriage of a young Bachelor of ■Arts was not made in Heaven, it was probably made, or at lany rate attempted, in Mrs Cowey's drawing-room. On Ithe present occasion all the deacons of the Univereity in [whom there lurked any spark of promise were exhaustively discussed, and the upshot was that our friend Theobald was 40 The V'ay of AM Flesh " I don't know that he's a particularlv faidnAtin« tmmi* CHAPTER X fa^^'-S'^^iy ?/? published works through Theobald', bv iSSlIS^^i*^". ^^ *<^"nt beeTtakcTintow tV^A^R ^"^ *^® beginning of his University care^ She had had her eye upon him fbr some time^t .SdS' SS^oVsu^^ffi^^^f-^^^ ^^^i *°^ ^ter the smoothSg away oi such difficulties as were only Mrs Cowev's Hup TorT Ignorant of the plots which were being prepared for hi. The Way of All Flesh 41 FJJM of mind and with no idea bevond that of aarninc Ut tluree gufaiMs, tod perhaps of attonuhing the inhaWuSa of to tne Kectory one Sunday morning early in December— a fcwwectoonlv after he had b^^ HehadUten a great deal of paiM with hi» sermon, which was on the tub- ^t of geotegy-thra coming to the fore as a theological Z^'-i?* •*'ST'* *^** *°^'^ ?~^o«y ^ worth iiy. thii^ at all-and he was too UberaT entSdy to pooh.po6h It-It confirmed tiie absolutely historical cWto- ofthe Mosaic account of the Creation as given in Genesis. Any phenomena which at first sight appeared to make against l^^^^ o?Jy partial phenomena and broke dow?u^ inH^SS. -S* u??"^ "^^^ ^ »" °>°^ excellent taSe. rl^^^P^**^^ adjourned to the rectory, where he wa^ to dine between the services. Mr AUaby complimented to ^^ f"A ^^^ '^^. ^^*^^ *° ««Pr«a their admiration. i,.TS?C?* ^'''^ "*'.**'^ *^"* wo™«n- The only women he had been thrown m contact with were his sistera. two of whom were dw^ys correcting him, and a few school friends whom these had got their fafier to ask to Ehnhurst. T^ young ladies had either been so shy that they and Theobald had never amalgamated, or they had been supposed to be clevCT and had said smart things to him. He didnotsS smart ttojs himself and did not want other people to say them. Besides, they talked aoout music-^ he ISiS music-or pictures-and he hated pictures-or books-and except the dasfflcs he hated books. And then scwnetojS was wanted to dance with them, and he did not know how to dance, and did not want to know. r, ri^'^?^^'* P?^es again he had seen some young ladies and had been introduced to them. He had tnedto ?*^!??!f^'l?^^**'^^ **"* ^^ ^ways left with the impres- sion that he had not been successful. The young ladiw of ^Til^^^u^* T^^ ^y "° ™«*"* the most attritive that might have been found in the University, and Theobald may t^.«^^ •?!; °°* ^'^'^ ^' ^^ *° *he greater number oi them,while if for a minute or two he was thrown in with one Of the prettier and more agreeable girls he was ahnost im- 43 The Way of All Flesh »e^y ortout by 1011160116 less bashful than hinuelf. and »ewced o£f, feeling as far ^« the fair sex was concerned KJm theimpotent man at the pool of BethesdaT ^^^' ««iiTSl ** T"/ ?^ «^* ""'Sht have done with him I cannot tell, but fate had thrown none such in his way exceot his youngest sister Alethea. whom he might perU^ SWUked ^ had not be«» his sister. Theilsultof l^^^S was that women had never done him any good andhe was was a part of Hamlet in connection with th4 it had been m completdy cut out in the edition of the play iTwWdi h2 WB. required to act that he had come to dSeve iL ite «! Kfa^«^-^'''-^*^^' ^^ ^"^ °«^«' *^issed a woman in his «L?^SJ ^ fster-and my own sisters when we were aU SSf^*?f"**?^t^*^- 0^«^ and above these kisses, he had ^n?X o^**^^ ^ ^"^ *° ^Pri°* a s^^ flabby thf Sf^if''* T?"?« "^P**** ^* 'a*^«^» <=»««J^. and this. tJ the bMt of my behef. was the extent of Theobald's^^^ come to dishke women, as mysterious beings whose ways ^ifwf ^ ^ys. nor their thouchts^ISs thoughts. Wrth thwe antecedents Theobald naturally felt rather baAftd on finding Wm^f the admiral ^^ lajM. I remember when I was a boy myself IwasonS «Jedto take tea at a girls' school whL o^f mT^to was boarding. I was then about twelve years old. ^o^ of tte estabhshment was present. But there cine atiS when she went away and I was left alone with theriJls T^ momcDt the mistress's back was turned the hSid rirl who was about my own age, came up. pointed her fingCT at me S^ruffi^iff* ^^'^y* ^na-a-sty b<^^i " ^ the ^Is foDowed her m rotation making the same eestmS and the same reproach upon my being a boy.Tgf^e SS agreat scare. I believe I cried: andl know^ t w J a W £^ aX! '^''" ' ^* ^**'""* * **~"« ^^ , Theobald felt at first much as I had myself done at the girls' school, but the Miss Allabys did not tl hkS^ Wwt The Way of AU Flesh 43 na^ bo^y. Their papa and mamma wen so coidial JS«3« ♦ J*^®"",,^^^ "^ 0^ Theobald thoughts! hfSL l^„; ?*"y vey channing one, and felt aXiS v!th^ ^ appreciated in a way to which he had rSt hitherto been accustomed. nla^**Si?°°? ^^ "^y"^ ^^'^ °^- He was by no meant plam, his academic prestige was very fair. There was nSh! ««abouthimtolayholdSfasmiconventionalTn^o^^ the impre^on he created upon the young ladii wa^^ for they knew not much more about men thSm iSiabout women> »o^?iS° *t^® ^?* ^°^^l ^^ harmony of the establishment w» broken by a storm which arose upbn the questio^wh^ "MvZ.«.. ^^A^ ^^° «>»0"ld become ^ra P^'S n^^Ji^'i f^^l ^^" i^^^' ^^«° ^^ saw that they Sd Wait tiU to-morrow, and then play at cJds f^Wrn^ Hajong said which he retired to his study, wh«re£ toS'a nighUy glass of whisky and a pipe of tobicco. CHAPTER XI The next morning saw Theobald in his rooms coachimr a pupil, and the Miss AUabys in the eldest MissAl^^St ro^ playmg at cards with Theobald for theltUT f J^tl^"* T" Omstina, the second unmarried daugh- ^^Jti *??*?:f J'^V?^ °^^ ^^ therefore te^ S^i?w?«^h*°^^*^u^- The yomiger sisters complained In? ' ^T^K*^"^* h"^'^*^ away to let ChristWtS and catch him for she was so much older that she hS i^ chance ; but Christina showed fight in a way not^Sfwi^ her, for she was by nature yielding and good temo^ H^mother thought it better toZ^k^er^a^S^o dangwms ones were packed off then and th4 on visritTto fcicnde some way off, and thoM alone aUowed to rema^ 44 The Way of All Flesh SL?i^* jljose loyalty could be depended tipon. The DTottera did not even suspect what was going on and bdieved then- father's getting assistance was bSawse he reauy wanted it. The sisters who remained at home kept their words and gave Christina aU tiie help they could, for over and above then- sense of f^r play they reflected that the sooner Theo- bald was landed, the sooner another deacon might be sent Z7^"!?^}^ "^^ ^y themselves. So quickly was aU managed that the two unreliable sisters were actuaDy out of the house before Theobald's next visit-which was on the Sunday following his first. « J?S **?* Theobald felt quite at home in the house of his S!!IL cu^^?*" ^ **" ^^y »ns"ted that he should call tom. She took, she said, such a motherly interest in young m^ cspeciaUy m der^rmen. Theob Jd believed ever? woni ^e said as he hadl)eUeved his father and all his eldera fromhis youth up. Christina sat next him at dinner and SSf1« f "^ °°J^f judiciously than she had played ^?i„" ^? "'I^ ' bed-room. She smiled (and her siS was one of her strong points) whenever he spoke to her ; she w«Dt through all her htUe artlessnesses and set forth aU W httle .^ m what she believed to be their most taking a^ pect. Who can blame her? Theobald was «iot the ideal she had dn»med of when reading Byron upstairs with her sis- tera. but he was an actual within the bounds of possibiUtv and after aU not a bad actual as actuals went. *^VeS c^ddiedo? Runaway? Shedarednot. MarrySS,^ her and be considered a disgrace to her family ? She dared not. RemMn at home and become an old maid a^be S?*^ *** ^ S°* " *** "^"^^ ^^P it- She did thT only iM.i J^S * 5"^M.^ °?^y * ^t^^' ^* «he could catch at him and catch at him she accordingly did. ♦r.,; «o^S"^l?' ^"^ ^^''^ "®^®'' "»"* «"ooth, the course of true matdi-making sometimes does so. The oily groundfor complaint m the present case was that it wm ffi dow Theobald fell into the part assigned to him more^Sr ttl^ Mre Cowey and Mrs Allaby had dared to hope. He waS ■oltened by Christina's wimiing mamiers : he^dmS^^ , -I The Way of All Flesh 45 5!f5in.°i?^*?°* *"' everything she said ; her sweetness to- wards her sisters and her father and mother, her readiness to undertake any smaU burden which no one else seemed wiU- mg to undert^e, her sprighUy manners, aU were fascinating to one who, though unused to woman's society, was still a human bemg. He was flattered by her unobtrusive but obvi- ously smcere admiraUon for himself ; she seemed to see him m a more favourable light, and to understand him better than anyone outside of *his charming fanuly had ever done. Instead of snubbing him as his father, brother and sisters did, she drew him out, listened attentively to aU he chose to say, and evidently wanted him to say stiU more. He told a coUege fnend that he knew he was in love now : he i w^i w • IZ ^^- ^^^ ^^ ^^y*^ ^^^y 'n^ch better tnan that of his sisters. *S^[*I?^/^^! ***® recommendations akeady enumer- ated, she had another in the possession of what was supposed to be a very beautiful contralto voice. Her voice was cer- tainly contralto, for she could not reach higher than D in toe treble ; its only defect was that it did not go correspon- dingly low m the bass : m those days, however, a contndto voice was understood to include even a soprano if the soprano could not reach soprano notes, and it was not necessary that it should have the quality which we now assign to contralto. What her voice wantca in range and powCT was made up in the feeling with which she san?. She had transposed ' Angels ever bright and fair " into a lower key, so as to make it suit her voice, thus proving, as her mamma said, that she had a thorough knowledS of the laws of harmony ; not only did she do this, but at every pause added an embeUishment of arpeggios from one end to the other ot the keyboard, on a principle which her pvemess had taught her ; she thus added life and interest to an air which everyone— so she said— must feel to be ratuer heavy m the form in which Handel left it As for her govemeM, she mdeed had been a rarely accompUshed musi- aan : she was a pupU of the famous Dr Clike of Cam- bndge, and used to play the overture to AUOanta, arranged byMazzmghi. Nevertheless, it was some time before ^eo- bald could bnng his courage to the sticking point of actuaOy 46 The Way of All Flesh prmosiiig. He made it quite dear that he believed himMlf to be much smitten, but month after month went by, during which there was still so much hope in Theobald that Mr Allaby dared not discover that he was able to do h|s duty for himself, and was getting impatient at the number of nalf<^;umeas he was disbuising—and yet there was no pro- posal. Christina's mother assured him that she was the best daughter in the whole world, and would be a priceless treasure to the man who married her. Theobald echoed Mrs Allabys sentiments with warmth, but still, though he visited the Rectory two or three times a week, besides coming over on Sundays— he did not propose. " She is heart-whole yet, dear Mr Pontifex," said Mrs Allaby, one day, at least I beUeve she is. It is not for want of ad- mirers— oh ! no— she has had her full share of th^ but II Y^.'J^ difficult to please. I think, however, she T^^ S. ^^^^ * ^^^ ^^ Sood man." And she looked iMTd at Theobald, who blushed ; but the days went by and still he did not propose. Another time Theobald actually took Mrs Cowey into his ronfidence, and the reader may guess what account of Umstina he got from her. Mrs Cowey tried the jealousy manoeuvre and hinted at a possible rival. Theobald was, ot preten^ to be, very much alarmed ; a little rudimentary pang of jealousy shot across his bosom and he began to bcheve with pride that he was not only in love, but dSper- ately m love or he would never feel so jealous. Neverthe- lew, day after dav still went by and he did not propose. The Mabys behaved with great judgement They humoured him tiU his retreat was practically cut off. though he stiU flattered himself that it Was open. One day about SIX months after Theobald had become an ahnost daily visitor at the Rectory the conversation happened to turn upon lOTg engagements. " I don't like longTngage- J?S*^ ^L^^'^F^. 4° y^ ? " «aid Theobald im^dSSy. shipe, and he gave Theobald a look which he orold sot pretend to misunderstand. He went back to Cambxidn !Il*??i ■» 5« »«ld go, and in dread of the omvenatrao with Mr Allaby which he felt to be impending, co^Sed The Way of All Flesh 47 S^'^S?"?^^*?* ^^** ^ »e come into the mXt m J^ Z.^^ *?"* happened to PiTAs^^TSSSie-'in-srit'-E'^r that Icouldget aU^forJ;.f??' ^H^**" '"PP*^ ^ ^^ country b«riM SI *^ T" -^^ ^ «° "P ^d down the Y oeggiDg people to provide for my son because he so The Way of AU Flesh has tnken it into his head to want to get married withont sufficient means ? " I do not wish to write unkindly, nothing can be farthw from my real feelings towards you, but there is often more Idndness in plain speaking than in any amount of soft words which can end in no substantial performance. Of course, I bear in mind that you are of age, and can therefore jAease yourself, but if you choose to daim the strict letter of the law, and act without consideration for your father's feelings, you must not be surprised if you one day find that I have claimed a Uke liberty for myself. — Believe me, your affec- tionate father, G. Pontifex." I found this letter along with those already given and a few more which I need not give, but throughout which the same tone prevails, and in tul of whi .h there is the more ox ' less obvious shsdce of the will near the end of the letter. Rememboing Theobald's general dumbness concerning his fati^ for the many years I knew him after his fauer's deaUi, tbere was an doquence in^e preservation of the letters and in their endorsement " Letters from my father," whidi seemed to have^with it some faint odour of bealth and ' nature. Theobald did not show his father's letter to Christina, nor, indeed, I believe to anyone. He was by nature secretive, and lud been repressed too much and too eaily to be capable of railing or blowing off steam where his fatho: was con- cerned. His sense of wroD«' was still inarticulate, fdt as a dun d«ui wdght ever present day by day, and if he woke at night-time stiU continually present, but he hardly knew what it was. I was about the dosest friend he had, and I saw but little of him, for I could not get on with him for long togetiber. He said I had no reverence ; whereas j I thought that I had plenty of reverence for what deserved ] to be revered, but that the gods which he deemed eolden i were in reality made of baser metal. He never, as I have said, complained of his father to me, and his osily otiier friends were, like himself, staid and prim, of evang|dical tendendes, and deeply imbued with a sense of the sinful' ness of any act of insubordination to parents— fjood young i h 4 i The Way of AU Flesh 51 men, in fact—and one cannot blow off steam to a mod young man. ^^ "* • ^poa When Christina was informed by her lover of his father*. OTDosition, and of the time whi^ mustTrobaWy d^ before they conld be married, she o£feied-\rith how mS but TJwbald dechned to be released— • not at £st " m he sud, at praient." Christina and Mra AUaby kSw 'the^ could manage him. and on this not very satisfactoS fooS the engagement was continued. ^ looung r«S ?!Sf M^"* i?^ ^ "'^ *o be rdeased at once rased Theob^d in his own good opinion. DuU as he to! hfJ^uT "T^j^^^ °? q^et self-approbation. He a^,^ u^IJa^ ^u' Un>^"s?y »« educated men and wo- tTIS^;hlS^ f ''^ "^ '""^ •• ^^ Theobald's mSd to doubt the hteral accuracy of any syllable in the Bible H« had never seen any bookin which Mw^^S^^-^ 52 The Way of All Flesh with anyone who doubted it. True, there was jutt a Uttla •care about geology, but there was nothing in it. If it was said that God made the world in six days, why He did make it in six days, neither in more nor less ; if it was said that He put Adam to sleep, took out one of hb iil» and made a wo- man of it, why it was so as a matter of course. He, Adam, went to sleep as it might be himself, Theobald Pontifex, in a garden, as it might be the garden at Crampsford Rectory diuring the summer months when it was so pretty, only that it was larger, and had some tame wild animals m it. Then God came up to him, as it might be Mr Allaby or his father, dexterously took out one of his ribs without waking him, and miraculously healed the wound so that no trace of the operation remained. Finally, God had taken the rib per- haps into the greenhouse, and had turned it into just such another young woman as Christina. That was how it was done ; there was neither difficulty nor shadow of difficulty about the matter. Could not God do anything He liked, and had He not in His own inspired Book told us that He had done this ? This was the average attitude of fairly educated young men and women towards the Mosaic cosmogony fifty, forty, or even twenty years ago. The combating of infidelity, therefore, offered little scope for enterprising young clergy- men, nor had the Church awakened to the activity wmch she has since displayed among the poor in our large towns. These wer^ then left ahnost without an effort at resistance or co-operation to the labours of those who had succeeded Wesley. Missionary work indeed in heathen countries was being carried on with some energy, but Theobald did not feel any call to be a missionary. Christina suggested this to him more than once, and assured him of the Mna p^ ifa M ^ happiness it would be to her to be the wife of a missionary, and to share his dangers ; she and Theobald might even be martyred; of course tbey would be martyred simultaneously, and martjo'dom many years hence as regarded from the arbour in the Rectory garden was not pai^, it would en- sure them a glorious future in the next world, and at any rate p(»thumous renown in this— even if they were not mi- raculously restored to life again— and such things had hap- t The Way of All Flesh 53 mStynlom. Tmoic^'u^J^'"*^ *• crown ot was assured wi»h <• ^^ • *• "f *"** "ic storm, of this she .ttaSby • J^y*,iSt fa?„^!3*' "»" "^ «>»'<» h*™ faithful. We will stand firm ^a ™*"n6a. Will be ever in the hour of ZSi? (S ;n"f ^'* ^^'^ *°^*^«*- ^^ from being burnt ^vfHem^l ^* '"'^'^y ""^^ »Pa« "» Lord " (and she t,m,?^ u "^^ °'' "^^ "<>* do w. Oh :[My deW/'tSd°ffiLfl4lT'^.^ agitate ourselves undulv if^h Jl^^*^ . . , "°* ^«* <» shall be best preDared to mif ^l ^?" .^^ *"»^ «>«<» we obtrusive hfc^'^fd*^;?,*^* i* 5^ ^V^ ^ a quiet un- SuchaUfektusp^yt^^:??tm^^^^^^^ *°«?^- 8»<'7- us^ to pray that L Jiay^ead '' ^ ^^'^ ^ *° ^'"^We teai.\Tha?^a^e1^i-^^^^ ^f«°^' ^«« the always right. Let S b^ s^ d^!L*^' ^^^ *^ a^^y. ful in woTd and deJd •• ^I'&'J'kP'?' "f'^*' *™^- up to Heaven asiS^ipoke '^^'P^^^^" ^^^ ^ looked ende^Jo'iSV tot'all o'^^^ ^^ «^ ^^^therto worldly people ; let m wat^H^rf I w ^^* °°* ^n tinue to the end.'' ^"^ P'^*^ *^* ^ ™ay » con- The moon had risen and the arbour was e^Hir.^ jo they adjourned further asniraf innc L ^ *""S °*™P' «> season. At other thnScffi*f"f'°'^ ? more convenient _ bald as bravi^ the^rn^f? pictured herself and Theo- the achievStS'some^ih^tSc;^^^^^^ ^"« « to the honour of her R^deS ^^hT^^.^i^ ^^"""^^ ^^^"""^ this. Butalwaystowar^Jle- 5^^,^"^^.'^^ litUe coronatiorscene hSh ,!« " ?u *'^'" ^J^*®" ^^'^ came a II 54 The Way of All Flesh loolnd - Uldhimaelfwatotttofit. If thert could be such a Uring m th« Ifammon of RifhteoosiuM Chriitina would haw u. ■uredly made friends with it. Her papa and mamma weie very estimable people and would in the course of time f- ceive Heavenly Mansions in which they would be exceedingly comforUble ; so doubtless would her sisters ; so perhaps, even might her brothers ; but for herself she felt tbata higher destiny was preparing, which it was her duty never tolose sieht of. The first step towards it would be her mar- riage with Theobald. In spite, however, of these flints of religious romanticism, Christina was a good>tempered Idndlv-natured girt enough, who, if she had married a sen- sible layman— we will say a hotel-keeper— would have de- veloped into a good landlady and been deservedly popular with her guests. Such was Theobald's engaged life. Many a little present passed between the pair, and many a small surprise did they prepare pleasantly for one another. They never quarrelled, and neither of tnem ever flirted with anyone else. Mrs Allaby and his future sisters-in-law idolised Theobald in mite of its being impossible to get another deacon to come and be played for as long as Theobald was aUe to heh> Mr Allaby, which now of course he did free gratis and for nothing ; two of the sisters, however, did manage to find husbands before Christina was actually married, and on each occasion Theobald played the part of decoy elephant. In the end only two out of the seven danghteis remained single. After three or four years, old Mr Pontifex became accus- tomed to his son's engagement and looked upon it as among the things which had now a prescriptive right to toleratioa. In the spring of 1831, more than five years after Theobald had first walked over to Crampsford, one of the best livings in the gift of the CoUe^ unexpectedly fell vacant, and was for various reasons declined by the two fellows senior to l^eobald, who might each have been expected to take it. The living was then offered to and of course accepted by Theobald, being in value not less than £500 a year with a miteble hovse and garden. Okl Mr Pontifex then came The Way of AH Flesh S5 down mora htndiomely thui was Mpected and wttled £10,000 on hit ion and daufhter-in-law for Uie with ra- mainder to tuch of their iaaue at they might appoint. In the month of July, X83X Theobald and^riatula became man and wife. f 1 1 CHAPTER XIII A DUE number of old ihoet had been thrown at the carriage to which the happy pair departed from the Rectory, andit had turned the comer at the bottom of the villa^. It could then be seen for two or three hundred yarda creeping paat a ^copoict, and after this was lost to view. r J „ "•".■^** ^^ AUaby to his man-servant, " shut the gate; and he went indoors with a sigh of relief which leemed to say : " I have done it, and I am alive." This was the reaction after a burst of enthusiastic merriment during which the old gentleman had run twenty yards after the carnage to fling a slipper at it— which he had duly flung. But what were the feelings of Theobald and Chmtina whra the viUage was passed and they were rolling quieUv bv tile fir plantation ? It is at this point that eventhe stoutert heart must fail, unless it beat in the breast of one who is over liead and ears in love. If a young man is in a small boat on a choppy sea, along with his affianced bride and both are sea. Mck. and if the sick swain can forget his own anguish in the happmese of holding the fair one^ head when she is at her WOTSt—then he is in love, and his heart will be in no danger of faihng him as he passes his fir plantation. Other pc^. and unfortunately by far the greater number of those who pet married must be classed among the " other people," wiU inevitably go through a quarter or half an hour of greater or less badness ^ the case may be. Taking numbers into ac- count, I should think more mental suffering had been under. gone m the streets leading from St George's, Hanover Square, than in the condemned cells of Newgate. There is no time at which what the Italians call U figlia deUa MorU S6 The Way of All Flesh «-^ but never i^Sndy lo^^d^ * "°"«« ^^o» ^ ^ l^^^tS'^^therto^'lT^rP^^^^^- He had be. let him^hehld sf^^w i,- ''^ Christina had offered to' which hS hi' ri,^S W^?f^* ^*^ * magnaniiS^on forwardheZffltoSf. ••?«?«'"• ^'■°'° «»at Le ■onl of honour ; I am not^ * J' t "^^ ^^^ wn the very magnanimity the aSS ^^!!f ij™ V* *^« moment of dfatant ; whin his S ^^S°*' *" *° »P«^' ^*» »tiU things began to IrvTlrm^l • "^ consent to his marriaw serious still ; but when nhS** P*^,,*'^®^ ^ool^ed more th^ITieobicfrh^St'i^'S^^t^X" """"^ *"' ^y' aS^-^TSe^^^eon^,^^ theylnot ^oS^rSTon 21!?' ^^y-^by-why ahS «8tof their hvw?Bf?*?S^^*y "^ ^°^ now for the for him S^r t£ I w " ?^^°. °«*« «^ce of esciSe butcher's^p^^SLI^Sht^lS^ ??^ teSS was nothing to bc«^MK» !^^® *****? ^^ '^J* *bat there He hO^X^^^dl^^' «, he made iSS^ bands to be one of thrh^.«Sf^' '^ "^ ^^^^ared on aU Now, hov^^rSi!i^''^i"^'' imaginable, actually Sfe^id ^th^S J^IT^^' ^ .*^ bad along with the creature SL^^J^ ^Jf«^ in mid air now thirty-three yeS oM.^^^^ J^ ««a*^ wag weeping. idlTr J^»«T "*^ ^°°^ >* • «be had been after he had thrownthe shST-Tl.^ J?" ^^ AUab/s &ce •f how I ca^i^hWU^'^uJ^^^ ^*' *°^ ^*> not of Theobald asSwaa h^n^SSif^ T^ "Pon the face tion. Thi8.1^t^^,^,**"^«longbythrfirplanto. postilion's head whiS W^Sl^i'^^^J'P *n^ *>^ of the ;2«?..ideasSli::l^t^?ttor^^ ^ by S body of the carriage. "*^^ ^^ tbe black and yellow y*- St-^^J The Way of All Flesh 57 » beyond my power to tdl hSn • i?^K^' ""!?* ^"^ ^ «* Jwwever, ThiJSud had mJSSiJ* *^* *®^ «' *hat time. »oine odd corawTf £ so^'SIf? 2^ f conclusion ft^ Christina were marrie?^^ tBe effect that now he and »?.teal relatioi^bZtter If^^f ^^ i^ ^*° *^ ^^ will only do the first httiJ'JJS^& "^^^ ^'^ "» a difficult dearly W^ M rSs^nX^^T* *^"« ^Wch theyai thought Theobald. wasW affk^^ **^*^- What, then, most obvious mat e^to b^oS^i^ii^^^r^*^* ^* a°d an equitable view of his a«d cS^' '^^ ^^** ^o^^d be respect to it ? Clearly thdrfi.2^*-°**'^^*^^«P<>siti^^ entry into the duS^d S^u^lT^r"^ !?S ^* i^«^ d«"fy it was Christina's dSt^o^dei?^^ N^^«« It and pay for it. ^ ^^^^'^ '*» »nd his own to eat d^ i{S?aiSr^„*^^-ndusfo^^ and the con- miles after he had lefrCramS^^5 ^^^''J three and a half m^ket He had br4^f^Sd ^v^Sf. S* "^^^ ^ NeJj. had failed him. ThevSd SS ^^'- ^* ^ "«°a^ appetite staying for the w^^r^^P^^f, nooniffiul dmner ; it dawned^n to tS't l^^t^ *" «^Jy h«iw; ftomthisto tS^durion^taTS ^'g"'*^ to bj P*^ph the steps had been ™? *f xf* "» *^ preceding furthw reflection S C^^^.^'J''? a few*minut^ thus thence was broke^^ ^ "^"^ ^ ^ bride, and been.strun^l^Stei/'l^SSr^rbi^JSf**^"^^ ^«ung She wanted to SaJeSv^?. *^* T"* °' the aaous of looking a little olSS^Sf observation ; she was con- abricfewhohSlLT^^SSS^qmtel^ landlady, the chambSS tffi »«?^ • «hefe«redthe ^^[thing ; her heS^ h^t's^t^T)^--r^^My and fl»ak, much less go throuS th^ 1^1 . x* *¥ «^«1<1 hardly IJ S8 The Way of AU Flesh Bat the inexorable Theobald was not to be pot off with wdi absurd excuses. He was master now. Had not Chris- UM, IMS than two hours ago promised solemnly to honour and obey him, and was she turning restive over such a triite as this ? The loving smile departed from his iaoe, and was Mcceeded by a scowl which that dd Turk, his father, might have oivied. " Stuff and nonsense, my dearest Christina," l» exdaimed mildly, and stamped his foot upon the floor M *5f ^agc. " It is a wife's duty to order her hus- band s dmner ; you are my wife, and I shall expect you to order mine." For Theobald was nothing if he was not logical. The bride began to cry, and said he was unkind ; whereon he said nothing, but revolved unutterable things in his heart. Was this, then, the end of his six years of unflagging devo- ?°° ^J^^ ** ^^^ **"' *^** ^^®° Christina had offered to let hun off, he had stuck to his engagement ? Was this the out- <»me of her talks about duty and spiritual mindedness— that now upon thfe very day of her marriage she should fafl to see that the first step in obedience to God ky in obedience to himself ? He would drive back to Crampsford ; he would oomplam to Mr and Mrs Allaby ; he didn't mean to have married Christina ; he hadn't married her ; it was all a hideous dream ; he would But a voice kept ringimr in h» ears which said : " You can't, can't, cai?t." !! £*^.^ \i "screamed the unhajmy creature to himself. Wo, said the remorseless voice, ^' YOU can't. Youaix A MAIKIBD MAN." He roBed back in his comer of the carriage and for ^w mst time felt how iniquitous were the marriage laws of EnriMd. But he would buy Milton's prose works and read his pamphlet on divorce. He might perhaps be able to Mt them at Newmarket. — « f r XI. ^*?^ ^*^ *** ^"^"^ "* °"® ^^^^ o' *1» carriage : and the bndegroom sulked in the other, and he feared her as ouya Inidegroom can fear. Presently, however, a feeUe voice was heaid from the Dnde s comer saying : " Dearest Theobald— dearest Theobald, forgiv« me ; I nave been very, very wrong. Please do not be ai^ry with The Way of AU Flesh 59 Mease tdl me," continued the voice " wh.* «»» ♦»„»u The load on Theobald's heart erew liirhw ^^a k-i.* bread M^^'~,i^,*! "*" •»« » ««t fo^ »ith kta22r.^i'JL'?""" more he Srew h« SS^S^ «M«d .way htt teOT, Mid assured ber that hetoewrti *™Wbe a good wile to hun. ^^ ^ „ .^;S* ^l»»ba'd," ri« exdata^j in ,„^ „ j^ ^ fcJSfili^ Wiwed^her, and in ten minntes moce th« ^iS^h"^'?!''* *^ '^ »* NewmarkS. ^ *^ H yon have any soop ready, you know lb nuS^Tu X^^"*^ forweSSJfe^ShSlii* . 5S5i?*?°?'^ '»<'''"»«"'« I But in truth she haJ n2b^ h,S •.S'irJl'*i' of l-ny l»d *.n«d 6o The Way of All Flesh father. Thus do we build castles in air when flushed with wine and conquest. The end of the honeymoon saw Mrs Theobald the moat devotedly obsequious wife in oil England. According to the> oldBuvrng, Theobald had killed the cat at the beginning. It had been a very little cat, a mere kitten in fact, or he might have been afraid to face it. but such as it had been he had challenged it to mortal combat, and had held up its dripping head defiantly before his wife's face. The rest had been easy. Strange that one whom I have described hitherto as so tmud and easily put upon should prove such a Tartar all of a sudden on the day of his marriage. Perhaps I have passed oyer his years of courtship too rapidly. Dunng these he had DMome a tutor of his cdlege, and had at last been Junior Dean. I never yet knew a man whose sense of his own im- portance did not become adequately developed after he had held a resident feljowship for five or six years. True— im- mediately on arrivmg within a ten mile radius of his father's house, an enchantment fell upon him, so that his knees waxed weak, his greatness departed, and he agiun felt him- self hke an overgrown baby under a perpetual ckrad ; but then he was not often at isJmhurst, and as soon as he left it the speU was taken ofl a«dn; once more he became the fellow and tutor of his orflege, the Junior Dean, the be- toothcdof Qbristina, the idol of the AUaby womankind. Fran aU which it may be gathered that if Christina had been a Barbary hen, and had ruffled her feathen m any show of resistance Theobald would not have ventured to swagger with her, but she was not a Barbary ben, she was only a common hen, and that too with rather a smaller share of personal bravery than hens generally have. ' ^^ The Way of AU Flesh 6i CHAPTER XIV SwcfTS^'lS?;™"""'"- ?" ^ "^« o' the Tillage of S55£* * **^^ ^*® "°^ Rector. It contained ^oooTcm gg ratirdy cf fanners and agricultural labiurere tL lWnfSrVi^*^*^**J?'^P«»P«t- There was a fair spri^ Mo??*!?^ ^' ?^°ti^«« were welcomed as great acquisi- ^to tiie n«ghbourhood, Mr Pontifex. the>Mid^S?^ ^;i!-^ ^° ^^"^ <^»*ssic and s«^Dior\nwS^ ^ perfect gemus m fact, and yet with 80 much soimdaS^ 2^°J^°Jf?^S- AssonofsuchadisS^^ffiSS £^.SSlJi'K^°"*lf? the publisher he woSoSntoS babiv «t^«!S^^ ^ "° "'"**. *^* Theobald wouWW •««£SSLy"**^''*^.«»'^^«*W«- Of course S^ H^^^ ^'^ P*^^- ^d Mrs Pontifex, wlSadiW fagwoman she was ; she was certainly nc?«»SlvmS?; pohaps. but then she had suchT^t S^JJS^ mann«rwas»bii|htandwirSSi. s£^Stv^^ to her husband and her husbShto ha-thevi^S^?!^ jptoone'sidwsofwhatlo^i^'SSS:^^^ was rare to ineet with such a pair in thcMdM^Lte ♦£»:.: toe neighbours on the new arrivals. w«««atwoi .^^i?!^*^^'* ^ parishioners, the &rmeis were dvil and the labourers and their wives obsequ^lJS?™ a Kttte disjent the legacy of ax»relc8s^2lecSor S^^ todealwith^. The church was then an interestineroS 1^2?^ wiSf^ ^?* ^^'"^ he call klan^JudXe 2 iqMir. " there is one feature more charwrteristic oftt» \ 62 The Way of AU Flesh pnaent generation than another it is that it hu been a great restorer of churches. Horace preached church restoration in his ode : — Delicta majorum immeritua lues, Rotnane, donee templa refeceris Aedesqoe labentes deonim et Foeda nigro simulacra fuma Nothing went right with Rome for long together after the Augustan age, but whether it was because she did restore the temples or because she did not restore them I know not. They certainly went all wrong after Constantine's time and yet Rome is still a city of some importance. I may say here that before Theobald had been many years at Battersby he found scope for useful work in the rebuild- ing of Battersby church, whidi he carried out at omsider- aUe cost, towards which he subscribed liberally himself. He was his own architect, and this saved expense ; but archi- tecture was not very well understood about the year 1834, yrbea Theobald commenced operations, and the result is not as satisfactory as it would have been if he had waited a few years kmger. Every man's work, whether it be literature or music or pictures or architecture or anytlung else, is always a portrait of himadf, and the more he tries to conceal himself toe more deariy will his character appear in ^nte of him. I may very Hkelv be condemning myself, all the time that I am writing this book, for I know that whether I like it or no I am por- traying mysdf more surelv than I am portraying any of the characters whom I set before the reader. I am sorry that it is so, but I cannot help it—after which sop to Nemesis I will my tittt Battersby church in its amended form has always striMk me as a better pc^trait of Theobald than any sculptor nr paintor short of a great master would be able to produce. 1 remember staying with Theobakl womt six or seven months after he was married, and while the okl church was still standing. I went to chmch, and iek as Naaann must have felt on certain occasions idioi he had to acammtay his master »je gne to LoSd' ™ ^* ** ^y»buiy he might I-«^^ whi was behind the scenes would have expected. He was quick too at introducing the names of any liU^rary celebrities whom he had met at lu» father's house, and soin established an all-round reputation which satisfied ey«a Christina herself. Who so ifrfif «r w&» jerfwiiyiM ^i«ri«, it was asked, as Mr Fbntifez of Battersby ? Who so fit to be consulted if any diflkulty about par&h management should arise f Who such a happy mixture of the sincere uninquiring Chiistiaa and of the man of the world ? For so people actually called him. The^ said he was such an admirable man of bosinesa. Certainly if he had said he would pay a sum of money at a certam time, the money would be forthcoming on the u>- pointed day, and this b saying a good deal lor any man. His constitutional timidity rendered him incapable of an attempt to overreach when there was the remotest chance of oroosition or publicity, and his correct bearing and some- what stem expression were a great protection to him against oeing overreached. He never talked of money, and invari- ^y changed the subject whenever money was introduced. His ezpcesskm of unutterable horror at aO kinds of mean 70 The Wav of All Flesh wi. »mm he had no bwiiiew transactioiis save of tha he had ;f 900 a year and a hotue ; the neighbonrhoSl VSi V JW^*^* ^.V^^^ ^^ °o* enviable ? ^ tt«fwSjfe*^^*^ was on the whole happier W^I.S^b^ She had not to go and vWt tick pSS i««».M»d the naanagemcnt of her house and the iSmS^ fext^ ^^'F ^^» *°<1 ^P him in a goodWw SSET^ It would have been bett^ perhuM if ^hi^ Si^nflS?*"^^ '°' no one in his little nwrld ever SSSlil!^ ^ anything else, and it was not SS £^!??£?* which had become very violent at times, she took«ieto humour ,t on the slightest sign of an a^wiS. S2?^* ^,^«^»y'o«nd that this was iSSrSe ea^trfan. The thunder was seldom for henelf. W Janumey matters she was scrupdousnetsitielt Theo. Wdmade to a ouarteriy allowaStote SSi Do^ SLSriS^lSl P«^rt*°« to her income ; indeed Ae 2!?!« J!l!l5?** economy and gave away whatever was TljoWd to i^ that he had a wife on whom he couWwly new to cost him a sixpence of unauthorised expenditiw I LeUfag atone her absolute submission, the perfcdtwSd dwce of her opinion with his own upok eve^TsubteS^d h« constant aswiiances to him that S i^Lff^^vi^^ thing which he took it into hi. heito^yTdcTw^; The Way of AU Flesh 71 ™ L hL^ISi!!?V^ ^* ***=*^« w fond of h» wife 1^ Z£l^^^ ^^""i any living thing. and.^SS 2^ dW outnm her qnarteJ^ stipend ly .^ttS ^^JlJ^^^ ^^ ^ deficiency WS£1 ^^^ !f unuwally cotUy evening dreit boSt S^*!rX.*^'?J^ «P«id\ thTStowi^nSSS or qwjtoej^ though It were onlv ten •hilling SSSj SS*i^**°* **?^ somewhat fallen from her onjtati pcrfertion as regards money. She had EotlnadM. StiLSu i"*^ 2f°y •»««^^ quarters iS^ 2f«^S£l 1 ^'telf ^**°' • ""^ °^ domestic wtional^ InZStS'^^V^ ""^ *^^ ^^ pounds. xSeoWd ^length !dt that a remonstnmce had fccome imp«^ SriX SiTh^bJS^ wedding dayirSS«S varraia inat ber indebtedness was cancelled, and at tlM ISSlS!^ **« 5t* ■»»• '^d endSS^ThilS^ S^l^^n.^52."^ ^.^°»- ShTbSSfaito Sh^SSfS? °' "*?• "^ "*^ during the remaiS her^SSSd^ ai1S?l2LSri:^^ cordiaSySan tibi.^!^»M?l ?^ "*d Theobald had nearly everytUmr in people desb« to mtrodnoe aU sorts of chances ofwlddbnA one cooW foresee the end ? Religion. «J«iSdLI5v7Jf ;rtnced had long since attainedTtodd^S ^ co^ it enter into the h^ of waaonaWelSr to w^ Sl^^r'S.?'''^,*.*?*" ™ inculcatedby tLfSb awe tJun that of a deigyman's wife nnless indeed iti^*« Wahop^^ Con^dering a father's infl\^iJwM«»JT.5 tapo«ihk that TT«S£ud might i a wS^ '^ \ n The Way of AU Flesh tlien^theii wotdd occur *o her that one little flaw in tfaa wactke of tte Church of England-a flaw not indeed in its doc^, but in its policy, which the believed on the whole ^u* . ^^^"•^^^"•P«^*- I mean the fact that ' SS*? •.^'^ doei not take the rank of her husband. This had been the doinff of Elizabeth, who had been a bad WOTwn, of exceeding doubtful moral character, and at heart *iZ!?^* *° **** ^** P^J^^F* people ought to have been wove mere comiderationt of worldly dignity, but the world jrt»tl«tteyou«httodoioorno. Her iSuence as plain Mit Fontifex, wife, we will uy, of the Bishop of Winchester. wouW no doubt be considerable. Such a character as hen could not faU to carry weight if she were ever in a suffi. owiUy conspicuous sphere for its influence to be widely felt I but u Lady Winchester-or the Bishopesa-which would sound auite mcely— who could doubt that her power forgood would be enhanced ? And it would be aU the 2^ S??^*^ if she had a daughter the daughter would not be a Bishopese unless indeed she were to marry a Bishoo too, which would not be likely. •'•««'y These were her thoughts upon her good days ; at other ttmes she would, to do her justke, have doubts whether she WM in an reelects as spirituaUy minded as she ought to be. «» must press artaken fnSk : I!?A'r*J??^.*^J*'™*^ *^* no *o^ were served at Her table which had had their necks wrung, but only such •shad had their throats cut and been allowed to bleed. St Paul and the Church of Jerusalem had insisted upon it as necessary that even Gentile converts should abstain from things strangled and from Wood, and they had joined this prohibition with that of a vice about the abominable nature *2 ™» ****" «>uld be no quesUon ; it would be well therefore to abstain in future and see whether any note- worthy quntual result ensued. She did abstain, aud was The Way of AH Flesh 73 ewUin that from the day of her ntolve ihe had felt •trwuMr, purer in heart, and in aU renecta mora ipirituaUy mmded thM the had ever fdt hithw&T Thaob^^doS lay M much strm on this as the did, but aa ihe settled what heshould have at dinner she could take care that he got no j£!?2^^*^tL? '^' ^'^i' P«ddin^. hWily. he had seen I5^i2.^,!f^ Hr* ^ ?**?' f '^^^ °«^ «ot over his iwrionforthem. She wished the matter were bne of mom gmeral observance than it was ; this was iust a case in i«Jlch as Lady Winchester she micht have been able to do ««S? .-f *^ ''°^?y couplejogged on from month to 2SEiuK?'~i\y**'*?y^- "nienader, if he has passed nuddtehie and hM a derical connection, wiD probafiyre- 2S2?*^"* *?** ■?*"* °' "^o" •"«* recto"' wives who dififerwi m c^ material renxx:t from Theobald and Christina. ^P^f^ from a recoQection and experience extending over nwly eighty years from the time when I was myself a child Z!Z ISSI^'^^K ' * ,Tf**^a««' I «»>o"Jd «ay I liad drawn the Dettwr rather than the worse side of the life of an Endish cwintayparson of some fifty vcars ago. I admit, hoiUw^ mat tbere are no such people to be found nowadays. A more umttti or, on the whole, happier, comde could not have been found to England. One grief onlylvwshadowed ^^^yy^oiiheirmamtdUft: I mean the faSthS no hving children were bom to them. "" »w »»« CHAPTER XVn In the couwe of Ume this sorrow was removed. At the ^gnniM of the fifth year of her married Ufe Christina was toter^jr * TW» was on the sixth of S^^ caved Uic news with real pleasure. His son John's wife had ^J^^^y' -^ ^ '^ ••^"^y uneasy test there should be a failure in the male line of hiidesanSanS I 74 The Way of AU Flcah Th« good newt, fbenhttt w»t 6aalbtf wdcoae, tad u atmiich ddight at Elmhunt at diun^ io Wdbnm Soaara. wlgw the John PtmtifcMi wore then Imng. ""^^'^ Here, indeed, this freak of fortune wm lelt to be lA the more cnid on aocotint of the imfracsifaility of reeentinK it oo«y; but the delighted grandfather cared nothi^lor ^Miat tiM John PontifeMi mif^i led or not led fhe had wanted a grandson and he had got a grandicm, and tint S!St^52?^*°'*Ty**^y» and, now that Mil Theo- "^°i^ *r?P.*° «°**^ ^y** *• «%J»t bring Urn mora gnndeotts, wfaidi would be dedrable, for he diould not led Mfe with fewer than three. He rang the bell for the buUer. ihtSSu^" ^ *^^ ioleinnly, " I want to go down into Then Gdstrap preceded him with a candle, and he went into the inner vault where he kept hit choicest wines. «^*.??^ mwiy bins: there was 1803 Port, 1703 la- pjrial Tokay. z8oo Claret. 181a Sherry, these andmany o^imwere passed, but it was not for them that the head (i JJ^^tifaxfMnily had ffonf* down into his inner cdlar. A ^JT*^ ^ appeared empty untU the full li^ of the candle had been brought to bear upon it. was now found to wntom a smgk pint bottle. Th» was the obiect of Mr '^iBttfers s^LTch. Gelstrap had often pondered over this bottle. It had been placed there bv Mr Pontifcx himsdf about a down ywsprevioudy, on his return from a visit to his friend the c^bratod traveller Dr Tone»— but there was oo tablet above the ban which might give a due to the nature of its contents. On more than one occasion when his master had gone out and left his kevs accidentally behind him, as he •ometames did, Gelstrap had submitted the bottle to all the ^ts he could venture upon, but it was so carefolly sealed Mat wisdom remained quite shut out from that entrance at which he would have welcomed her most gladly-«nd indeed from all other entrances, for he could mdw out nothing at all. And now the mystary was to be solved. B«t alas I it teemed as though the ImI chance of securing even a sip ol The Way of AU Flesh 75 the eontentt was to be removed for ever, for Mr Pontifex todc the bottle into his own hende and held it op to the h|ht alter carefuUyexiuniniiig the eeal. He imUedand left the bm with the bottle in his hands. Then came a catastrophe. He stumUed over an empty Mi^ ; there was the sound of a fall— « imaah of hroktn OMa, aad m an instant the cellar floor was covered with the Hqoid that had been preserved so carefuUy for so many With his usual presence of mind Mr Pontifex gasped out a month's warning to Gelstrap. Then he got up, and stamped as Theobald had done whai Christina had wanted not to order his dinner. M "uSt ^*" ^'°™ *^* Jordan," he exclaimed furiously, wluch I have been savmg for the baptism of my eldest grandson. Damn you, Gelstrap, how dare you be so in- fenuUy careless as to leave that hamper littering about the cellar?" ^ I wonder the water of the sacred stream did not stand uprie^t as an heap upon the cellar Boor and rebuke him. Gelstrap told the other servants afterwards ttit his master's laanage had maie his backbone curdle. Tae moment, however, that he heard the word " water," be saw his way again, and flew to the pantry. Before his master had well noted his absence be returned with a little ■pooge and a basin, and had begun stuping up the waters of «*^^ " *^°"«** they had been a common sbp. ' rn filt<^ It, Sir," said Gelstn^) meekly. " It'fl come quite dean." Ifr Pontiiex saw hope in this suggestion, which was »Mrtly carried out by the help of a piece of blotting paper and a funnel, under his own eyes. Eventually it was found that half a pint was saved, and this was held to be suflkient. Then he made preparations for a visit to Battersby. He ordered goodly hampers of the choicest eatablfs, he selected a goodly hamper of choice drinkables. I say choice and not^oicest, for although in his firit exaltation he had •UMtod sotfw of his very best wine, yet on reft^tticm he ud idt that there was modecattra in all things, and as he i 76 The Way of All Flesh CHAPTER XVIII ^lS?n^ fr ^i^ "'« 'r^»*J\ The Way of All Flesh 77 mteMer thare, at least I think 10, than anywfaera cIm in • IJ»v«»imtyoarbovdownforioniethinginth«eventol tafattaimngtheageoftwenty-oneyeari. If yoor brother lohn continues to have nothing but giris I may do more n ^ but I have many claims upon me, and am not as weU ofi as you may imagine.— Your affectionate ^ther, "G. POMTIVBX." A few days afterwards the writer of the above letter made his app«rance in a fly which had brought him from Gilden- ham to Battersbv, a distance of fourteen miles. There was Lesueur, the cook, on the box with the driver, and as many '^^J?'*?* *^ ?y ^^''^ *^*»^ ^''«» d»Pot«l ap ing himself to k>b8ter sauce, he flushed cronsae, a kxik of extreme vexatkn suffused his &ce, and he dv«id two far* I The Way of AU Flesh 79 lift bvt tey glaiieet to the two cadt of the tabte, one lor TheobtldMidoiielorairittiiia. They, poor dmpleioalB,ol ooone tew that lomethiag was exoeedhM^y wrong, and to did I, hot I oonldn't gum what it wat^ I hMud the old man hiie in Christina's ear : "It was not made with a hen lobster. What's the use," he continued, " of my calling the boy Ernest, and getting him christened in water from the Jordan, if his own father does not know a cock from a hen lobster?" This cut me too, for I fdt that till that moment I had not so nnieh as known that thero wero cocks and hens arooi^; k)bsters, but had vagody thought that in the matter of patrimony they were even as the angeb in heaven, and grew up almost spontaneously from rocks and sea-weed. Before the next course was over Mr Pontifex had n- oovered his temper, and from that time to the end of the evninc he was at his best. He told us all about the water from ue Jordan ; how it had been brought by Dr Jonas ak)ng with some stone jars of water from the Rhine, the Rhone, the Elbe and the Danube, and what trouble he had had with them at the Custom Houses, and how the inten- tion had been to make punch with waters from all the greatest rivers in Europe ; and how he, Mr Pontifez, had MVttd the Jordan water irom goi^ into the bowl, etc., etc. " No, BO, BO," he c onti na ed, 'Mt woukin't have done at iJl, m know ; very profane idea ; so we SBch took a pint bottle €i it home wkh as, and the puadl was nrach better witiKNitit I had a narrow ese^»e witii atee, though, the otiwrday; I fell over a hamper in the cellar, when I was getting it up to bring to Battersby, and if I had not takaa the greatest care the bottle wouki certahily have been broken, but I saved it." And Gelstrap was standmg behind his chair an the time! Nothing more happened to ruile Mr Pontifex, so we had a deU^^ktful evening, which has often recurred to bm while watdimg the after career of my oodscm. I caBed a day or two afterwards and immd Mr I^mt^BK •tin at Ba ttersby. laid up with one of thoee attacks of hvw Midtf i praision to which he was beouning more and mom mA^neL I stayed to luncheon. The old gentleman wm 8o The Way of All Flesh cra« and ymy diflkah ; 1m oonkl Mt mOitmr^tmd bo •PVftiteattn. ChrittiiiatrtodtoooMUmirttitVHt^ oftlwfledivptrtofamnttoiichop. " How in tht imim of nMoiicaiilbeMlndtoMtaiimttondMM) ?"h0«KclaiiiMd SS^w '' ^ *^u"y ?^ ^^*»'*»*^ *>»* y«« l>»v« to SSJJ^i^ I??*2J?!*, *• ****^/ diwiWiiltfi/' and h« pWMd the plate from him, poathw aad^ownfaic Uka m. S!l^!SSl*fT^ P!S^ ***• diatorbanca faSgparahla from transitiofi in human thinca. I aoppoaa in raaU^ not a leaf goea yellow in automn ^thoat ommIm to can aboat [to tap and making the parent tree very uncomlortoble by ^^ C^r"* ^^ gnmibling—bnt aorely nature might find aomekM initotina way of carrying on buaineia if iha would £frL2?*l*V^ >iJ»yil»uldth9generationaovwlap •~*^!2S" fi ?5 i Why cannot we ft buried aa egga 6 naat little ceUa with ten or twenty tbouaand ponnfeach wrapped round ua in Bank of England notea, and waka up. aa the iphex wan> doea, to find &t its papa and mamm have not o^y left uajAt proviaioo at ita dbow, but hava been eatm by aparrowa lome weeka before it began to liva eoiadoualy on ito own account? ^^ on Battenby— for Mn John Pbntilex waa lafely dehveied of aboy. A year or aoUteratin, George Pontifexwaahimaelf •track down anddenly by a fit of paralyiia. much aa 1^ When Wa win waa opoied, It waa found that an original be. SHJIk'/?* f^2S?5^ ^^°^ <«^ ««» ^oila the aum that had been aettled upon him and Chriatina at the tola of hto n»niaj») had been cut down to /i7,300 when Mr Pontilez kft^aomething" to Emeat. itf^aoS thina proved to be £a5oo, which waa to accumulate in ti»e hMda of tmateea. The reat of the property want to John Pontifex, except that each of the dau^ten waa left with about iCz5>ooo over and above Aooo a pieoa irtitch they inherited from their mother, s^^^" • i*"^ ^"" IWWd'a faUier then had told him the troth but not the whole truth. Nevertheleaa, what right had Theobald to The Way of AD Flesh 8i Jto ^ Sft#l."!i ?^T* **• WMwwiSi for him mmSiT' s:i2ii*t£Jts5r SSJS ^^ hjd dariM his awn Ufo-timTSt^ iw»^«t in Ehnhwt Church to the memory of hkwff/r Gew» the Fourth, end tU the rwt of t), and had left ^2 SnT^iS?^ «»d«neath that of 'hi. wiT I ^ ZSZJ^!^ ? '^ r^"«> by one of hit childiS « bdieve that any latire was intended. I beUeve that it wo tteiatwittop to convey that nothing ilwrtof STlkTSf fc2ffii5*Sl»tf*"*5yne ta idS how gSd a iSS^Ifc jMtiftthadbjenjbut at first I f o^ It was free trom guik. ^^ ttcnsetsont^that the deceasedwas for many years headof 2^ wf J?^* "iP^^tlfex. and abo iSKt i? t£ pa^^Elmhmst. ThereisnotasyflaWeofeithiwiSsa ordiqiraise. The tast Hnes run as follows ?-.'^^ *^ «» now uu Aw/amm ▲ joyvvt unnu»cno« AT THB LAST DAY. W«AT MANWBB OV MAN » WAS nuT DAT wnx macovBa. MICROCOPY RfSOUITION TBT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 1.1 la IK lii u ID ~ 32 11.8 ia6 1 4.0 ^ /APPLIED IN/MGE Inc ^^ 1653 East Mcin StrMt B'.S Rochesltr. Nam York 14609 USA ^B (716) 4^2-0300 -Phone gg (716) 288 - 5989 - Fo> 82 The Way of All Flesh CHAPTER XIX This much, however, we may say in the meantime, that having lived to be nearly seventy-three years old and died rich he must have been in very fair harmony with his sur- roundings. I have heard it said sometimes that such and such a person's Ufe was a lie : but no man's life can be a very bad lie ; as long as it continues at all it is at worst nine-tenths of it true. Mr Pontifex's Ufe not only continued a long time, but was prosperous right up to the end. Is not tMs enough ? Being in this world is it not our most obvious business to make the most of it — ^to observe what things do bona fide tend to long Ufe and comfort, and to act accordingly ? All animals, exc^t man, know that the principal busmess of Ufe is to enjoy it — and they do enjoy it as much as man and other circumstances will aUow. He has spent his Ufe best who has enjoyed it most ; God will take care that we do not enjoy it any more than is good for us. If Mr Pontifex is to be blamed it is for not having eaten and drunk less and thus suffered less from his Uver, and Uved perhaps a year or two longer. Goodness is naught unless it tends towards old age and sufficiency of means. I speak broadly and exuptis excipi- eniis. So the psalmist says, " The righteous shall not hujc anything that is good." mther this is mere poetical Ucense, or it follows that he who lacks anything that is good is not righteous ; there is a presumption also that 1^ who has passed a long Ufe without lacking anything that is good has himself also been good enough tor practical purposes. Mr Pontifex never lacked anytUng be much cared abi at. True, he might have been happier than he was ii he had cared about thing which he did not care for, but liie gist of this Ues in the " if he had cared." We have all sinned and come short of the glory of making ourselves as com- fortable as we easily might have done, but in this particular case Mr Pontifex did not care, and would not have gained much by getting what he did not want. The Way of AU Flesh 83 There la no casting of swine's meat before men worse than that which would flatter virtue as though her true origin were not good enough for her, but she must have a Imeage, deduced as it were by spiritual heralds, from some stoclc witii which she has nothing to do. Virtue's true hne* age is older and more respectable than any that can be invented for her. She springs from man's experience con- cerning his own well-being— and this, though not infaUible, is still the least faUible thing we have. A system which cannot stand without a better foundation than this must have something so unstable within itself that it will topple over on whatever pedestal we place it. The world has long ago settied that morality and virtue are what bring men peace at the last. " Be virtuous," says the copy-book, " and you will be happy." Surely if a reputed virtue fails often in this respect it is only an in- sidious form of vice, and if a reputed vice brings no very serious mischief on a man's latei years it is not so bad a vice as it is said to be. Unfortunatdy though we are all of a mind about the main opinion that virtue is what tends to happiness, and vice what ends in sorrow, we are not so unanimous about details— that is to say as to whether uiy given course, such, we will say, as smoking, has a tendency to happiness or the reverse. I submit it as the result of my own poor observation, that a good deal of unkindness and selfi^ess on the part of parents towards children is not generally followedby iU consequences to the parents themselves. They may cast a gloom over their children's lives for many years without having to suffer anythmg that will hurt them. I should say, tiien, that it shows no great moral obliquity on the paurt of parents if within certain limits they make their children's Uves a burden to them. Granted that Mr Pontifex's was not a very exalted char- acter, ordinary men are not required to have very exalted characters. It is enough if we are of the same moral and mental stature as the " main " or " mean " part of men— that is to say as the average. It is involved in the very essence of things that rich men who die old shall have been mean. The greatest and wisest i' 1 84 The Way of AH Flesh* of mankind moU be almost always found to be the meanest —the ones who have kept the '' mean " h^ l^^^Tlt cess either of virtue or ^§ce They WdlytveJh^ b^J Parous if they have not done tisVa^Zo^dS^^w SSt L otf ^^'^'^ °° ""^^ *^ ^ neighbours. HoS^ tdUMM about some one who made it his busineS X S^otb^'n^^^^lr^^^P^Pl- WhTan^'un^^'^ B^onabte disagreeable person he must have bc^l not tiiat this gentleman, whoever he was. did so soon^ or B.,i^S;^^i**°^*^' ^*^' ^^ol^«s «»e possession of lare virtue, and rare virtues are hke rare plantTorSab ^ that have not been able to holdS o^HTtte !5? i, 4, JFtue to be serviceable must, like gold te People divide off vice and virtue as though they wore two ttmgs, nather of which had with it anySig of tKhT^ This IS not so. There is no useful virtue^ShLnot^me S^Lil^'^'rS'^K^y ^y ^<^' « any. whfch S We S^di^h^**^" dash of virtue ; virtue iid ^^aS me and death, or mmd and matf r—thinM whit-h oon««* e»rt without being quaUfied by thdr 3Ste ^^J J^ute hfe contains'death anS ITcoi^Ts siill^'^; ^l^^'J^ also it has been said^' If tho^ L^ jnlt be extoeme to mark what is done amks," S sh^^ that even the highest ideal we can con^wm^ S ao mu^ compromise with vice as sh^ wSS^l pjor abtaes of the time, if they axTTot^'^^^ That vice pays homage to virtue is notorious • wVSSthf. we^S^l*fe*^°'l'^f "^ ^? happiness in having what «fp^i- /^ Sf. *>f^er moral standard than othSs If Sf^ofi^ ^°' *^' ^°Y^^^^' *^«y "»^t be content wSvk. tue as her own reward, and not grumble if t^ fflX Quixotism an expensive luxury, whose rewards bd«i to J The Way of All Flesh 85 [kingdom that is not of this world. They mtist not wonder ii [they cut a poor figure in trying to maJce the most of both [worlds. Disbelieve as we may the details of the accounts J which record the growth of the Christian religion, yet a great [part of Christian teaching will remain as true as though we accepted the details. We cannot serve God and Mammon ; strait is the way and narrow is the gate which leads to what those who live by faith hold to be best worth having, and [ there is no way of saying this better than the Bible has done. It is well there should be some who think thus, as it is weU there should be speculators in commerce, who will often bum their fingers— but it is not well that the majority should leave the " mean " and beaten path. For most men, and most circumstances, pleasure — tan- gible material prosperity in this world— is the safest test of virtue. Progress has ever been through the pleasures rather than through the extreme sharp virtues, and the most virtuous have leaned to excess rather than to asceti- cism. To use a commercial metaphor, competition is so keen, and the margin of profits has been cut down so closely that virtue cannot afford to throw any bona fide chance away, and must base her action rather on the actual moneying out of conduct than on a flattering proroectus. She will not therefore neglect— as some do who are prudent and economical enough in other matter*— the important factor of our chance of escaping detection, or at any rate of our dying first. A reasonable virtue wiU give this chance Its due value, neitlm- more nor less. Heasme, after all, is a safer gmde than either right or duty. For hard as it is to know what gives us pleasure, nght and duty are often still harder to distinguish and. if we go wrong with them, wiU lead us into just as sorry a plight as a mistaken opinion concerning pleasure. When men bum their fingers through foUowing after pleasure they find out their mistake and get to see where they have gone wrong more easily than when they have bumt them through foUowmg after a fancied duty, or a fancied idea concerning nght vutue. The devil, in fact, when he dresses himself in auigel s dothes, can only be detected by experts of excep- tional skill, and so often does he adopt this disguise that it 86 The Way of All Flesh h hardly safe to be leen Ulkmg to an angd at aU. and but more rMpectable and on the whole much more tnist- wormy gmde. M^^T^^ **' Pontifcx. over and above his having «iT^# S? ""iP^P^^^^y, he left numerous offspring, tS aU of whom he communicated not only his phy&Sfand of modification, but also no smaU share of characteristics ^tSS }^ '??y transmitted-I mean his^u™^^ SS^ Slf/'""-^ i^ry ^ "^^ *^** *»« acquire/Sese bj SJL-^t 1^^ and letting money run, as it were, right up X H« I^'; t**..^^"'*.^°^ '"^y does not monly ruS ZLl ^t*u\'\ "^^"^ \^^'- ""' ^^°' «^«° " «»«y hold ^Z tw ff ^^it' camiot so incorporate it with them- InJS 5^ u *V*S '*?^^?. **^"«*» **»««» to their off- «5T i.^*^ '^"'K''* *¥ *^- H« k«Pt what he may be said to have made, and money is like a reputation for abihty— more easily made than kept. lu.™';,^'!?*'"' ^""^ ^. *".*"' ^ »™ no* inclined to be so severe upon hun as my father was. Judge him according to any very lofty standard, and he is iowhere. Juc^^ fo,^f ?f ilV" * ^?' il*'^^ standard, and there is not much fault to be found with him. I have said what I have said S the for^mg chapter once for aU. and shall not break mv »hon of the verdict wUdi the reader may beindined to pass too hastily not on-y upon Mr George Pontifex. but SSe^SSTstor^"^' "^' ''^'^*^- ^^- ^ -^-- 4 CHAPTER XX I?i!^i.°f.^ son opened Theobald's eyes to a good deal which he had but faintly realised hitherto. Heh^diw id^ how great a nuisance a baby was. Babies come into the world so suddenly at the end, and upset everything so The Way of All Flesh 87 ttOTiUv when they do come : why cannot they steal in upon us with less of a shock to the domestic system ? His wife, too, did not recover rapidly from her confinement ; die II remained an invalid for months ; here was another nuisance and an expensive one, which interfered with the amount which Theobald Uked to put by out of his income against, as he said, a rainy day, or to make provision for his family if he should have one. Now he was getting a family, so that it became all the more necessary to put money by, and here was the baby hindering him. Theorists may say what they like about a man's children being a continuation of his own identity, but it will generaUy be found that those who talk in this way have no children of their own. Prac- tical family men know better. About twelve months after the birth of Ernest there came a second, also a boy, who was christened Joseph, and in less than twelve months afterwards, a girl, to whom was given the name of Charlotte. A few months before tiiis girl was bom Christina paid a visit to the John Pontifexes m London, and, knowing her condition, passed a good deal of time at the Royal Academy exhibition looking at the types of female beauty portrayed by the Academicians, for she had made up her mind that the child tiiis time was to be a girl. Alethea warned her not to do this, but she per- sisted, and certainly the child turned out plain, but whether thepictures caused this or no I cannot say. Theobald had never liked children. He had always got away from them as-soon as he could, and so had they firom him ; oh, why, he was inclined to ask himself, could not children be bom into the world grown up ? If Christina could have given birth to a few full-grown clergymen in priest's orders— of moderate views, but inclining rather to EvajDgelicalism, with comfortable livings and h\ iiU respects facsimiles of Theobald himself— why , there might have been more sense in it ; or if people could buy ready-made chil- dr«i at a shop of whatever age and sex they liked, instead of always having to make them at home and to be^ at the beginning with them— that might do better, but as it was he did not like it. He felt as he had felt when he had been required to come and be married to Christina — that he had 88 The Way of AH Flesh S!SfSSSue 'th^ *^K^Vite nicely, wd wo«W much l»e liked it • hnJ^.-rnlTIr u^° ***^ obliged to pretend ofZ&SThU 5Sk^^ unexceptionable way. not done so enwuSJS w, t?'*' = *?*^«^* *^t ^ h«d obedience from W^chSSrlS "^JS*"* ^l °^* ^P««t he said (and so did rh^.?^r!"'.. ^® ">"if»«n to the En&ish bia^ Postor^l^when h?«;. J *^ ^^^^ *^«^ ^nt to be im- ta^'SSwi23''i?f "^ 'S««»?^ «» » conviction » •awoua • mind, md if m las, then in Oiristina's, tlMtit The Way of AU Flesh 89 was their duty to b«gin training up their cbUdren in the way they should go, even from thear earUest infancy. The first signs of sdf.wiU must be carefuUy looked for, and plucked Sf ^l ti^J^^ ** °J**=« **«'o" ^^y ^^ time to grow. Theobald ricked up this numb serpent of a metaphor and cherished it in his bosom. Before Em«t could well crawl he was taught to kneel ; before he could weU speak he was taught to lisp the Lord's prayer, and the general confession. How was it possible that these things could be taught too early ? If his atten- tion riagged or his memory failed him, here was an ill weed which would «row apace, unless it were plucked out imme- diatdy, and the only way to pluck it out was to whip him, or shut him up in a cupboard, or dock him of some of the small pleasures of chUdhood. Before he was three years old he could read and, after a fashion, write. Before he was four he was learning Latin, and could do rule of three sums. As for the child himself, he was naturally of an even tem- per, he doted upon his nurse, on kittens and puppies, and on aU thmgs that would do him the kindness of aUowing him to be fond of them. He was fond of his mother, too but as regards his father, he has told me in later Ufe he could remember no feeling but fear and shrinldng. Chris- tma did not remonstrate with Theobald concerning the seventy of the tasks imposed upon thdr boy, nor yet as to the contmual whippings that were found necessary at lesson tpes. Indeed, when during any absence of Tlieo- bald s the lessons were entrusted to her, she found to her sorrow that it was the only thing to do, and she did it no less effectually than Theobald himself, nevertheless she was fond of her boy, which Theobald never was, and it was bng before she could destroy all affection for herself in the mind of her fizst-bom. But she persevered. 90 The Way of All Flesh CHAPTER XXI welfare o! their children as fheobald and herwlf. ^r a^S^ TKr^ ?r** '"i^^-'^-^e wa. certain ofit-waa in w\ J*^' yt*^' ^""^^y '^^ *»»« wow necessary, to that tSS S\S,f *S,"^»»i have been kept piTSim ev«^* CMtlebuUding which we read, was indulged in ^Vve^ fc!if\"?*?* *^'*'"' *h« appearance of the Mesdah: fS •J»™J??K**?^^^**PP'^'*- Heaven would bewhS witn«8 that she had never shrunk from the ideTof martvS^ dom for heraelf and Theobald, nor wouli s^ a^idU^^; ^y. if his hfe was required of her in hw SSeemc?! ITJfehad tnw a'k \^ 1°*^ ^^ *« °«^ "P her firsts,™" SLS^n \n?«i ^hraham, she would take him up to KgbS Beawn and plunge the-no. that slie could not do?Butft would be unnecessaiy-some one else miffht do ti^t i* ™ "SJ for nothing tfiat Ernest had be^pt^ ^ watS bdd'f •ttaH Y n*^ her doiSf^yet Thl^ iS«H.JSr^''*'*"'*^*5"?htit. When water from S ■aoedstr^ was wantedTor a sacred infant, the c£nS p11^ ^"""^^ ^'^"^h which it was to^flow f^^ f^^^A °v^^»n*J ^d »ea to the door of the hous^hSS the chJd was Ijang Why. it was a miracle l It ^TU ^ ISteTr' nf."r- '^^f J°^^" had left itsTd and «SrS*^ her own house. It was idle to say that SSs TO not a miracle. No miracle was effected without me^ of some kmd ; the difference between the f Sd LSX ^^u'^^'^S ^^ ^ ^'^^t that *he7o™TiSd •ee a miracle where the latter couW not. The Jews wSd The Way of All Flesh 91 Me no miracle even in the raiiins of Uz«rut and the feed- ing of the five thousand. The John Pontifexce would tee no miracle in this matter of the water from the Jordan. The essence of a miracle lay not in the fact that means had been disoensed with, but in the adoption of means to a great end that had not been available without interference ; and no one would suppose that Dr Jones would have brouffht the water unless he had been directed. She would teU UUs to Theobald, and get him to see it in the . . . and yet perhaps it would be better not. The innight of women upon matters of this sort was deeper and more unerring than that of men. It was a woman and not a man who had been filled most completely with the whole fulness of the Deity. But why had they not treasured up the water after it was used ? It ought never, never to have been thrown away, but it had been. Perhaps, however, this was for the best too^they might have been tempted to set too "11!? 'i®^ ^ **• *"*^ *' ™8bt have become a source of spiritual danger to them—perhaps even of spiritual pride, the v«-y sin of aU others which she most abhorred. As for «ie channel through which the Jordan had flowed to Battersby, that mattered not more than the earth throu^ which the river ran in Palestine itself. Dr Jones was cer- tainly worldly— very worldly ; so, she regretted to feel, ni^ been her father-in-law, though in a less degree; ^ritual, at heart, doubtless, and becoming more and more •piritoal continually as he grew older, stiU he was tainted with the world, till a very few hours, probably, before hit d^th, whereas she and Theobald had given up all for Christ's sake. TA^y were not worldly. At least Theobald was not. She had been, but she was sure die had grown in grace since she had felt of! eating things strangled and blood —this was as the washing in Jordan as against Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus. Her boy should never touch a strangled fowl nor a black pudding— that, at any rate, she a)uld see to. He should have a coral from the neighbonr- hood of Joppa— there were coral insects on those coasts, so that the thing could easily be done with a httle energy ; she would write to Dr Jones about it, etc. And so on for honn together day after day for years. Truly, Mrs Theobald 9« The Way of All Flesh !!^fe?d^ llf?!?^ to htr Mfhti with M «cfidlin to!;hSfTw3^'^ ^ co«p«1.cm with .hSTSTlndJ^ Whjn EniMt wm in hit Mcond year. TiMobdd o bgw to whip him two Say. tftor h. had begunT? teS onlv'lhT!! !!'!1?''^'*,^ •^^ *° Christina, but it was th« SLt^ 1°..^ •"** " ^^ <*on«- Th« child wumin/ lSi!L23 S^"yj r M»«y •«* conUnuaUyita? t^cKtoJ who doiyd him with calomel and JamM't pomSJe AOw^ Thry^TtuS?£^llt»^' *^-P'4^Ap^^ SSi^v J?*h hi^£!**°i he had made in hit wiU dmS- t?b2?U2LS?J?Xf****'^~*- ItWMratherZd ^SSr'SS^\^ .V."^ "° ^y o' conveying aWt iSrS^h^?* ^l*"!* ^^"^ thoM diildren M^y t J SS.Shi!?'- ^T'y.*^?^'' »«id Theobald, aft" hJ^ jwcwsed the matter with Christina for thTS^Jwh fSS? f^^rtimea of this fand is to take refuge inwwti^ I «itt go and pay a visit to Mil Thoi^Ion.^^^ The Way of All Flesh 93 On tboM dayi Mra Thompton would b« told Uwt bcr i(m wtra all wuhed white, etc., a little eoonar and a Uttle more peremptorily than on othera. CHAPTER XXII I utiD to atay at Battcrsby for a day or two lometimei, while my godaon and his brother and aiiter were children. I hardly know why I went, for Theobald and I giew more and more apart, but one geta into groovea aomutimea, and the rappoaed friendship between myself and the Pontifexea continued to exist, though it was now little more than rudi- mentary. My godson pleased roe more than either of the other children, but he had not much of the buoyancy of childhood, and was more like a puny, 8s!bw Uttle old man than I liked. The young people, however, wen very iwdy to be friendly. I ronember Emeat and his brother hovered round me on the first day of one of these visits with their hands full of fading flowwi, which they at length pioflered me. On this I did what I suppose waa expected : I inquired if then wu a afaop near where they could buy sweetka. Theysaid there was, so I fdt in my pockets, but only tocoeeded in finding two pence h^fpenny in small money. TUsIgave them, and the youngsters, aged four and thrae, toddledofl akme. Ere king they returned, and Emeat said, " We can't pet iweetiea for all this money " (I felt rebuked, bot no re- halfpenny to the two pence. I suppose they had wanted a twopenny cake, or something like that. I waa amined, and left them to adve the difficulty their own way, being anxious to see what they would do. Ptesentlv Ernest said, " May we give you back thia " (showing the halfpenny) " and not give von back this and thii ? " (showing the pence). I assenteiC and they gave a 94 The Way of All Flesh sigh of relief and went on their way reioidne A fM» ««»• and they began to take me into their S>nfidence^ ^ ^ ♦« K ^ f^l^ ™5 * 8^°*^ ^«^ which I am afraid I oueht not to have hsten«i tp. They said that if gran^apa had Uv^ ^'ihL^^^t "^""'^^^y ^:!' beef mad^TuM. Li R^Ltf ^^FiuT"^^ J^^^ *^ t*»e Honourable and SiTSf 1 K * that grandpapa was now in heaven sinSe b«iutiful hymns with grandmamma Allaby to Tesus St WsZS;ir^°i?^K' ^dthatwh^EiSw^'; tas mamma had told hun he need not be afraid of dvine for he would go straight to heaven, if he woSd oS?^ sorry for having done his lessons so badly a^d v^S^lS dear papa, and if he would promise never ^eva to v^ him any more; and that when hTgot to h^v^ !ln? papa and grandmamma Allaby woid mL? wTf «^h' would be dways with them. JdXy wSSTd ^v^rt^^o^d moXf H^^ff*']^"*.*^ ^ ^'^^ such bSutifr^"^ more beautiful by far than those which he was now Sw of, ete., ete. ; but he did not wish to die and wm X?iS« he got better, for there were no iSt^ to hl^^ Ind he tSSI*^.^h*^''' were cowsUps to make cS^teT^^ rhnSSi °^^^ "^^ ^r^y ^disappointed in thm "ui children are none of them geniusesVMr Overton^she a^d to me at ^kfast one mSiiiing. " They have f^aSfi t.«. and. thanks to Theobald's tuition L^'^iefor^^J for their years, but they have nothing Uke eLSa • ^1^. IS a thing apart from tfis, is it not?^^ *^*°*°* Of course I said it was " a thing quite apart from this » 252?i 1, ^*^® ^ "y ^^^ immediately, ma'am, iwd t^i^ S^T ^'^'T'^' I have no idea what gt^^ bit ,?i«?.l'^'°"°.^Z.'i?'*^«Ptio»» about it, I should SJ Wd s. and ,t « naughty of them not to be ; but oico^ they camiot be so good and clever as TTi^Wd id i^ .* The Way of All Flesh 95 and if they show signs of being so it will be nau^ty of Ithem. Hqjpily, however, they are not this, and yet it is very dreadful that they are not. As for genius— hoity- toity, indeed—why, a genius should turn intellectual sum- mersaults as soon as it is bom, and none of my children have yet been able to get into the newspapers. I will not have children of mine give themselves airs— it is enough for than that Theobald and I should do so." She did not know, poor woman, that the true greatness wears an invisible cloak, under cover of which it goes in and out among men without being suspected ; if its cloak does not conceal it from itself always, and from all others for many years, its greatness will ere long shrink to very ordi- nary dimensions. What, then, it may be asked, is the good of being great ? The answer is that you may understand greatness better in others, whether alive or dead, and choose better company from these and enjoy and under- stand that company better when you have chosen it— also that you may be able to give pleasure to the best people and live in the lives of those who are yet unborn. This, one would thmk, was substantial gain enough for greatness without its wanting to ride rough-shod over us, even when disguised as humility. I was there on a Sunday, and observed the rigour with which the young people were taught to observe the Sab- bath ; they might not cut out things, nor use their paint- box on a Sunday, and this they thought rather hard, because their cousins the John Pontifexes might do these tilings. Their cousins might play with their toy train on Sunday, but though they had promised that they would rmi none but Sunday trains, all traffic had been prohibited. Od» treat only was allowed them— on Sunday evenings they might choose their own hymns. In the course of the evening they came into the drawing- room, and, as an especial treat, were to sing some of thSr hymns to me, instead of saying them, so that I might hear now nicely they sang. Ernest was to choose the first hymn, ottd be chose one about some people who were to come to the sunset tree. I am no botanist, and do not know what kind of tree a sunset tree is, but the words b^, " Oane, 96 The Way of All Flesh «o^, eonw J com. to th. iuniet tn, fcr th. d.y h DMt •«! liWchfld'. voi" "StTlSS IT" """"^ • •*"» turn, turn." *^''"'^""J*>«"Coii»."h.„id"TS therij^. "'*»'"? "o™ >>» onn-duUr Md went to «»»^thi»k .boat it. „d C^e • X- SJ^, »°« •*» I l«gtad, b«t lleoWd h^d to m. topMi«tly ««i The Way of All Flesh 97 id, " FlMM do not Itugh, Overton ; it will nakt the boy ink it does not matter, and it mattera a great deal ; ^' len turning to Ernest he said, " Now, Ernest, I will dve 3U one more chance, and if vou don't say ' come,' I wall low that you are seH'Willed and naughty." He looked very angry, and a shade came over Ernest's ^ace, like that which comes upon the face of a puppy when it is being scolded without understanding why. Tne cUld law wdl what was coming now, was frightened, and, of [course, said " turn " once more. " Very weU, Ernest," said his father, catching him angrily ' by the shoulder. " I have done my best to save you, but if you will have it so, you will," and he lugged the little wretch, crying by alnticipation, out of the room. A few minutes more and we could hear screams coming from the dining-room, across the hall which separated the drawing- room from the dining-room, and knew that poor Ernest was being beaten. " I have sent him up to bed," said Theobald, as he re- turned to the drawing-room, " and now, Christina, I thhik we will have the servants in to prayers," and he rang the bell for them, red-handed as he was. CHAPTER XXni The man-servant William came and set the chairs for the maids, and presently they filed in. First Christina's maid, then the cook, then the housemaid, then William, and then the coachman. I sat opposite them, and watched thdr faces as Theobald read a chapter from the BiUe. They were nice people, but more absolute vacancy I mver saw upon the countenances of human beings. Theobald began by reading a few verses fn»n the Old Testament, according to some system of his own. On tlus occasion the passage came from the fifteenth chapter of Numbers : it had no particular beuing that I cotdd see upon anything v^ch was going on just then, but the spirit ■ 98 The Way of All Flesh The verses are as follows— "And the Lord spake unto Moses, sayinff "Speak unto the children of Isr^^Srf kih *i. ... nutke them fringes in the bnM-r. -TIk^^ "** *^*" *^* ^•Y *». «d tl«.j™ «k .0. Iter your «rh^ iS'^-'J; My thoughts wandered whfle Theobald was i»oa-«- *». above, and reverted to a little matSS^SfS^iTfl ^^^ ^ in the course of the aftJmSS."^ '"'^ ^ *^ °^^^«d It happened that some years pr^viouslv « m,^^ t v I The Way of All Flesh 99 lies, and had multiplied lo that the drawing-room was a ^ deal frequentea by theie bees during the summer, rheo the windows were open. The drawing-room pai)er ras of a pattern which consisted of bunches of red and white B, and I saw several bees at different times fly up to .,^ bunches and try them, under the impression that they ere real flowers ; having tried one bunch, they tried the ext, and the next, and the next, till they reached the one tot was nearest the ceiling, then they went down bunch by mch as they had ascended, till they were stopped by the Jc of the sofa ; on this they ascenaed bunch by btmch to ceiling again ; and so on, and so on till I was tired of ■matching them. As I thought of the family prayers being Irepeated night and morning, week by week, month by [month, and year by year, I could not help thinking how [like it was to the way in which the bees went up the wall land down the wall, bunch by bunch, without ever suspect- ling that so many of the associated ideas could be present, and yet the main idea be wanting hopelessly, and for ever. When Theobald had finished reading we all knelt down I and the Carlo Dolci and the Sassoferrato looked down upon a sea of upturned backs, as we buried our faces in our chairs. I noted that Theobald prayed that we might be made " truly honest and conscientious " in all our dealings, and smiled at the introduction of the " truly." Then my thoughts ran back to the bees and I reflected that after all it was perhaps as well at any rate for Theobald that our prayers were seldom marked by any very encouraging de- gree of response, for if I had thought there was the slij^test chance of my being heard I should have prayed that some one might ere long treat him as he had treated Ernest. Then my thou^ts wandered on to those calculations which people make about waste of time and how much one can get done if one gives ten minutes a day to it, and I was tUnking what improper suggestion I could make in connection with this and the time si}ent on family prayers which should at the same time be just tolerable, when I heard Theobald beginning " The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ " and in a few seconds the ceremony was over, and the servants filed out again as they had filed in. 'oo The Way of All Flesh At ioon ui thMf UmA iwA .... cut -rtieoiidcrto the Wrt .ni'*'' *" *J^« ^«rt, andXt i? but that Wwvtd Sfthtf lt!d L^* •'^^"« ^^^ th»tYaf iJaj^JSidTlciT^^^^^ be^or. I went mj. to Theobald took me 1^ U^hoZ'*'^'* ^ ^^ with vjloge who Uved a ttone'. thitm t^T.u V'f*'^ *« tht «Wy to tupply me with ^w? teL?*? ^^^V •• Wng other, was fiCWed to come uS* u!^^bJ^^^^ ""^^on or to lit, but at any niil^^J *^^ *^« hent had b«run wife could not flJd me Si.^ ■^*^' »"^ *^« cottam'J P7>ceeded to wSTp uTi^^SJSS S^ ^'>^*' ^wJg%e' ^t take them to to{^^*' P**"^ «' P*Per w that I This operation was paiJTi ^' of the co?Le dooTaSS'^Wle "PL" ^« 5!>«nd *» front the cottage?, Uttle boy a lad I^.T^J" *^« "^^^ of it trod upon one of the^ o^at^? *^"* ^™«t's age. •nd broke it. **** "*** '^ wrapped up in papS *>^^yS?^T^iSV;U^^^ •• -e what you'v. Eauat." she adde? Jihw^^^ ^S! °^ • P^nnyiSeitL *'eL?*"*' • dw.'' ^ *** daughter, " take the chSd t^«*cil^^^^ o« With the youngster. didn't Ki H«?to%i^l5,^^<>Jeft the house, " Why I m soiteful enough to «>^ on the egg ? ^ J?**^?^^** plainly M woSTr^i?^'* • «rimTmile ??£L?7»"t had fit WiT^^^ii***^ done that I The Way of All Flesh loi It and ray visits to Battenby were henceforth lew luent. Jn our return to the house we found the postman had ..ived and had brought a letter appointing Theobald to a ,iiral deanery which had lately fallen vacant by the death ^f one of the neighbouring clergy who had hekl the oifice ' many years. The bishoD wrote to Theobald most --mlv, and assured him that he valued him as among the jiost nard*working and devoted of his parochial clergy. Christina of course was delighted, and gave me to uncter* tand that It was only an instalment of the much higher JIgnities which were in store for Theobald when his merits jwo'e more widely known. I I did not then foresee how closely my godson's life and I mine were in after years to be bound up together ; if I had, I should doubtless have looked upon him with differ- ent eves and noted much to which I paid no attention at the time. As it was, I was glad to get away from him, for I could do nothing for him, or chose to say that I could not, and the sight of so much suffering was painful I to me. A man should not only have his own way as far as possible, but he should only consort with things that are gettinc their own way so far that they are at any rate conuortable. Unless for short times under exceptional circumstances, he should not even see things that have been stunted or starved, much less should he eat meat that has been vexed by having been over-driven or under- fed, or afilicted with any disease ; nor should he touch vegetables that have not been well grown. For all these things cross a man ; whatever a man comes in contact with in any way forms a cross with him which will leave him better or worse, and the better things he is crossed with the more likely he is to live long and happily. All things must be crossed a little or they would cease to live —but holy things, such for example as Giovanni Bellini's saints, have been cro:»ed with nothing but what is good of its kind. loa The Way of AH Flesh CHAPTER XXIV The ttonn which I have descrihMi i« ♦!.- ^ WM « swnple of those thatSi?^^*^f previoui chapter No matterW cl«r the awT^ ff^^ H ^V Y^ over now in one ouarte? ISl 1 ^J^^J' "•"• *<> doud •nd lightning ^u?i*rthe;)S^^^^^ the thunder where they were. ^^^ P^'P'® *^'or» they knew him t? fe STce^triiv^^i^-* *° «•• ^'^•n ' -I»d «nini8cenc« iSr^e b^efl'^f "*° T^ «< Ws childiiW Mr,Barbaul?sh,;,^;^4^°'^ " we uyl to lea,^ one about the Uon which j2LT?r" P~^' *"^ *^>we was you what Us strong. T^e U^'.tS^T*' *"»? ^'^ "^^o^ Wnwelf from his fair whii h« .l'??J u^^«" *>« »i«eth the voice of hfa roKS^ h^L?**S*^ ?f °^«' ^hen fly. and the beasST^thl d^ft^'dfth' "' ,*^* ^^^^^ he is very terrible.' I uid to Lv Iau ?™f "''*• '^' Charlotte about mv fRthSTh;!?- ??^ ?"* *° Joey and older, but they SXe ah^v^^^.'^^*° ^ «*>* » kittle wu«hty of me. ^^ ^*'^**^' »nd said it wa. . Some or dose a£^ut thThoSL VhffT*:^ *° »""<^ ** patients half his time : th "^v J^d?h^ ^ *^S* ^^^ offices away from home but Si ^^ *^® merchant have place of buLe^S'i"ai^±'?J?? °° official home for many hours togVtherTsSt^«J^"« *^*y ^"^ daw were whJn my faSer weJt w !^i*°^^- v^^ P-«at Gridenham. '^e^^Ze!omeS^tlnf^y} ^^^^ ^'^ missions used to accumulatoS m. ?11P'^*,'. *"^ corn- would make a day of it^d |fo 2f7 It^^'^ "** ^^ he his back was turned the Srf!it^h/*°*^®'°*- As soon as dooropenedtoTtWm^Tn^^f tfe,^' (« soon as the haU The Way of All Flesh 103 .... bftck, or evm the whole way and then their con- iencee would compel them to tell papa and mamma. hey liked running with the hare up to a certain point, it their instinct was towards the hounds. " It seems to me," he continued, " that the family is a arvival of the principle which is moie logically embodied 1 the compound animal — and the compound anbial is a ■form of life which has been found incompatible with high [development. I would do with the family amonff mankind I what nature has done with the compound animal, and con- If le it to the lower and less progressive races. Certainly I there is no inherent love for the family system on the part I of nature herself. Poll the forms of life and you will find it in a ridiculously small minority. The fishes know it not, and they get along quite nicely. The ants and the bees, who far outnumber man, sting their fathers to death as a matter of course, and are given to the atrocious mutilation of nine-tenths of the offspring committed to their charge, yet where shall we find conmiunities more universally re- spected ? Take the cuckoo again— is there any bird which we Uke better?" I saw he was running of! from his own reminiscences and tried to bring him back to them, but it was no use. " What a fool," he said, " a man is to remember anything that happened more than a week ago unless it was pleasant, or unless he wants to make some use of it. " Sensible people get the greater part of their own dying done during their own lifetime. A man at five and thirty should no more regret not haying had a happier childhood than he diould regret not having been bom a prince of the blood. He might be happier if he had been more fortunate in childhood, but, for aught he knows, if he had, some- thing else might have happened which might have killed him long ago. If I had to be born again I would be bom at Battersby of the same father and mother as before, and I would not alter anything that has ever happened to me." ^^ The most amusing incident that I can remember about his childhood was that when he was about seven years old he told me he was going to have a naturai child. I asked ^04 The Way of All Fie* «*>w logically thAt If i^SIt i V "" *^ ** •eemed to before ffiJS^nJSied i?p°' ^ff* ^^ took for the child, for K^hTSm! S^ ^^ ^^"^ '^here fo know," h« said •• ^w2t? ^"** ** •"y moment. " Yoa bedo;,elS^*ind7^rJSS- •°*?^*^«^y5 one goeT to it «n«ghtXof^oldTw?^2St*5^.J' f t«by.^? I hope it wiU bea bov'^ °* °° ***• ^^^-out for fc SS? Will not cTlS-^-^ - hjp^j^ ^ ti^ iTJltiiSl " "^ *^* y°« '^ve not mad. «»y ^ few' S?J,'^^7 ^ Burne^ you ]^^ 2««in»i hSd me^ut ITLSf £fJ? »>e bolted at. Aad I^tifcx't chiS; S» B«S? • ^^^^i?* *nd said. ♦ Is he M? she couldn'thTve^^S?'./*' » he mine ? ' Of couiS^ ^ duldj filSdr^I^^d^'tlff th^eS^^^ ^ the boys and the lady all the^i. V??*'"**" ^ad afi this, or else mamnw Wdd nofi^ ^"*.'* *^'* he liln toweas; but thSutfraBulj'l i*"?^?*^*^ ^ra Bume fex% child 0/ «»^5»/ wlrrfw^/*' 9^' ^*» Mr Ponti! m«u»t by siying ^if "^^^^A ^.^l^^'' what she The Way of All Flesh 105 Um wife iD tht girk; I wlih yen would txplaia to ^ ftO ftbeat It." TUt I could hardly do, 10 I changed the convenation, 'ter reawiiriiig him at belt I could. CHAPTER XXV fauR or four years after the birth of her daughter, Chrit- Itina had had one more child. She had never been ttronc Isince she married, and had a presentiment that she should jnot survive this last confinement. She accordingly wrote I the following letter, which was to be given, as she endorsed upon it, to her sons when Ernest was sixteen years old. It reached him on his r other's doith many years later, for lit was the baby wIk Jied now, and not Christina. It was [found among pape » which she had repeatedly and care- fully arranged, witn the seal already broken. "^ '\ 1 am afraid, shows that Christina had read it and tho. t it too creditable to be ckstroved when ihe occasion oat had I called it forth bad j^e by. It is as fdlow»-~ " Battbrsby, March isfk, 1S41, *' My TWO DBAi BOYS,— When this is put into your hands ^ win you try to bring to mind the mother whom you lost in your childhood, and whom, I fear, you will ahnost have foigotten ? You, Ernest, will remember her best, for you are past five years L^!^^''^^"' «' *<> the «i»t fan. ^^et gS^ SZf!S'* 3^"' yw* will, wu He lays yon aXwoil^m^ ^x iJ°^ •^"^ »»o • l^r/ wlK>aeekto5denT SSSlltXLS'S. ,M»nyti»«»*re and of a good couraee aSd Iff ii^*** ' ?"^y ^ »*">»« The Way of All Flesh 107 loM lor tiM ignorant. To «tf there te bat on« thing neadfoL M0 are to be living to God and the'; feUow^craatims, and QOttothemMlvia. iltf must seek fint the Kingdom of God land Hie rishteonineie— mwt ifmv ikmMhntM pore and Ichaate and charitable in the fuUett and ividaat lenae— all, ' forgetting thoee things that are behind,' must ' prese . fnrward towards the mark, for the prise of the hi(^ calling [of God.' " And now I will add but two things more. Be true thrott^ life to each other, !ove as only brothers should do, I strengthen, warn, encourage one another, and let who will be a^inst you, let each fed that in hb brother he has a firm and faithful friend who will be so to the end ; and, oh t be Idnd and watchful over your dear sbter ; without mother or sisters she will doubjy need her brothers' k>ve and tenderness and confidence. I am certain she will seek them, and wiQ love you and try to make you happy ; be sure then that vr 1 do not fail her, and remember, tnat were she to lose her t Her and remain unmarried, she would doubly need protectors. To you, then, I especially com- mend her. On t my three darUnf children, be true to each other, your Father, and yourGod. May He guide and bless you, and grant that in a better and happier world I and flune may meet again.— Your most affectionate motiier, " Cbkishna PoNTirax." From enquiries I have made, I have satisfied mysdf that most mothers write letters like this shortly before their confinements, and that fifty per cent, keep them afterwards* as Christina did. io8 The Way of AU Flesh CHAPTER XXVI 2^^ such religious wild oa^Iy*^^!,?!^*^^^^ enough «W1 to sow. To me it s^m? ItI^?®' ^* *^e had pjentv this world are h^Vj^ *^?* ^^ ^ho are happv 2^ who are not. and ttl^t ttus rthr^ H^P'e thaS S,S and Day of ]u6gem^t,Z^v^i^T °^ * ^esuiwcti^ deemed worthy bf a W vi«?? ^ . *^® ™<>st likely to be was so anxious for ThiSd'TSiSS J^° "^^^ ^^*^«°a merdy due to a conviction thaJ^^ happmess, or was it much a master of Jo^^^th^^h^s eternal welfare w«ri h«^rthi;rSappinessTHe^^ to '^L'?"^"^ *« «««^ ffectionate, attentive to Ws^^es ^,1 5*" ^~ °hedient. J«t/' a goodly string forsooth^S f?'*^.«»y«»g and dili. vemcnt to par^ts ; fie W^vel^ ?^ "^"^ °»^t <^<'n- foUies of those " vfLnv^^£ ^ *? ^*^ *<> Wush tor the ajid "whose first dut7u^S'^,%^\*^««titod?' How like maternal snUriL^ *2..*t"dy his happini^»» most part ^tSeofeSSj^^i*^' Solicitud?^-^ and f^ehngsTf ite oW^- ^^'^'^ ^"^^ *« have^hS «Itiei^J?i*»^'j^^«»»»« thShlt^'n^f • I '^ » ««« come ovT ™, , »nd I'^felt that h^tt «» rate S^V»H f«^**^ which MM rapidly b«xS^^S "^. S « ""iP™ Tht°^S *^ "T^tf, of sdenm silence finished the nm^. me Uoctor rose briskly from his «u>af ««T!j •?*?»»«. at the sunoer table •'MrTc? ^^^ ^t and placed himself !,' I?"" «« oysters, Dr Skimier." aS'!!,'" ^!f^ "^ «■" Overton aome." tart, and a hunk of teid WdSe^W* "T *«*> piece of bread and b^ ^ ^*^ This was the smaU gj-^thetahle. T^SJ^^t^^SSS'S »2St.;^l,^tt'£^dy^d'«t^rgf^l5; The Way of All Flesh 115 .Who can won»t to amiounce Se S^^ilr*'°^ P??P ?"*^ ^^^^'^^^^^^nce- Nor should his worcbbe taken without searching for what he used to caU a deeper and more hidden meaning." Those who «i^for this even in hfe lightest uttSances 3d^ be without th«r reward. They would find that " bread and bwttCT TO Slannerese for oyster-patties and apple tart, and " gm hot " the true translation of water. ' But independently of their money value, his works had madelumalastmgnameinUterature. So probably GalUo was under the imprenion that his fame woufd rS uWthe toeat^ on natural history which we gather fnMn^eS ^t heomipaed, Md whi4 for aught te knoHLyhL^ contMed a complete theory of evolution; butthetreaS are all gone and Gallio has become immiiS fw the vS^ last reason m the world that he exp^^d for Se vS? ^reason that would have flatted his vanity. He S become immortal because he cared nothing aboSt the mSt mp^t movement with which he ^Tver t^oi^t^o ^nection (I w«h people who are in search of imXteht? wodd lay the l^n to heart and not make soS iS ^ importont movments), and so, if Dr Skinner^ o^w mmortal it will probably be for some reason .«^ diflto^t from the one which he so fondly ima^ ^ Coold It be eiq)ccted to eata into the head^such a man n6 The Way of All Flesh fc«ed to teach LtaW pSLta of S^.**^ *■""» "» !» production of which TeyTd . rtoht'i?™!"'- '" ^ nooonrof anvonawlinmilir^ ? 1«« to rely upon tl i» wa, . S"t:tl^^,p"^»?^?' »»^trth, whose saUow. bilious farA««yu^i?,'"8^*"<^«' of a ma •care the ffid buT Jh^ J^.l^?*'?*-^^^^*^ ^^^^e coul enough if hTwire iTtS;^^^^ '^itV^^ St Jude," such as thev were wi~7Sl' S 5I?^tat»ons o: many people did ^t Se ttL^Sff '°?**^P* " * honestly ? Mre Skkm^iS,* ^ *° H^^ ^^^ ^rittei little more inUs^^eliZ^^^^" S^* ^^^ * while to try. but XTad enonlw '^.^ ^^J''^^* >* ^ortl after her hoi^old ^^^"^'if *V*J*"^ *° *° looking a^if they ^e m, p,S^fo?k^^^5^wer^ weU feS good care they were. after—which she took CHAPTER XXVIII borough had trSp^Sa^th/h^" ^^l^^* ** ^oi^J He had now got abo?t m mSd^A?"^ ""i^^ *^^ ones, as though it must gS^^"tt iS, ff S?k '^^ ^^ ^«»t ever kind wei^ to be ^e^ ^IS*" ^^"^^ of what- home, but I am afraS L?^* o^beW^^iH^T.^? l^^ gettmg near Roughborom?h Rie * *?^ . *^^* he was withfim, having^stS w ^ ^^^ ^*^ °>other were Roughborougrffi^^^ ^^4^ ^ ow. carriage ; some forty miles from Bat wk^!?^' *°d as it i -as only of getting twr ^****«hy, this was the easiest way On seeing him cry, his mother felt flattered and earthed The Way of AU Flesh 117 I him. She said she knew he must fed very sad at leaving such a bftppy home, and going among people who, though they would be very good to him, could never, never be as good as his dear papa and she had been ; still, she was her- self, if he only knew it, much more deserving of pity than he was, for the parting was more painful to her than it could I possibly be to him, etc., and Ernest, on being told that his tears were for grief at leaving home, took it all on trust, and did not trouble to investigate the real cause of his tears. As they approached Roughborough he pulled him- self together, and was fairly cahn by the time he reached Dr SkJnno-'s. On their arrival they had luncheon with the Doctor and his wife, and then Mrs Skinner took Christina over the bed- rooms, and showed her where her dear little boy was to sleep. Whatever men may think about the study of man women do really believe the noblest study for woAuikind to be woman, and Christina was too much engrodfelwith Mrs Skinno- to pay much attention to anythinj^Se'; I daresay Mrs Skinner, too, was taking pretty accurW stock of Chnstina. Christina was charmed, as indeed she gene- rally was with any new acquaintance, for she found in them (and so must we all) something oi the nature of a cross ; as for Mrs Skinner, I imagine she had seen too many Chris- fanas to find much regeneration in the sample now before her ; I believe her private opinion echoed the dictum of a weU-known head-master who declared that all parents were foob, but more especially mothers ; she was, however, all spies and sweetness, and Christina devoured these gra- aoudy as tributes paid more particularly to herself, and such as no other mother would have been at all likely to have won. ' In the meantime Theobald and Ernest were with Dr Skmner m his library — the room where new boys were exammed and old ones had up for rebuke or chastisement. If the walls of that room could speak, what an amount of Wundenng and capricious cruelty would they not bear witness to ! ' ^^ Like aU houses, Dr Skinner's had its peculiar smell. In m8 The Way of All Flesh chemitf • shop. T^ZS^fl^iV^K'^'^ •» »t^^ He was J?y to me, thaTl^swS,^ Sut h °^^^ 'iV^ ^«^ bon princes on th«v r-Zl??"* °*^ "» °>ind of the Bou Watiloo,~o2 *uS he'^a. thd?"* ^^ *^«^*«^" whereas they had £rnLt ♦!.. *^ "*<=t converse; fc Dr Skinne^Ld leSlj^S^ '^d fo,^tten™i4 thin^. aS thS mS^mt ^^^4 and foi^tten ^ •ayinp about Dr^sSn^l"" sS tol/Il"*^*^ °i^ ^ fcmself. nainted brthS el^^^Sfe^^^^^l^DrSldnnJ, Skmner had been amomT^ fiS^T^' "^^^^^ »«rit Dr dming-room there was a finT.^ ^ ^^"^' *>"t in the ^ got togeth«^,JSh his^?«^of ^^°"' ^^^ *J»e doctw i^WedtoitUii^yTlato-hr^.S"'^!!^**^^^ He l»mmer at (SJ's/as it did ^.f i^ "'^f' it came to the to comprise many of tS llSff f°i '°"« ^^ it was found Solom« Academy been some curiosity. ThL ^.^*^.*® J*««°y there had <-wo w-,., p.^ t.-sr's: s^.^-^- The Way of All Flesh 119 |llonof«r thtfe hMi been one or two large sake a abort ' time beiore Dr Skinner's, ao that at thia laat there waa rather a panic, and a reaction against the high pricea that had ruled Utelv. The Uble of the library waa loaded with books many deep ; MSS. of all kinda were coofuaedly mixed up with them.— bovs' exercises, probably, and examination papers —but all uttering untidily about. The room in fact was as depressing from lU slatternliness as from its atmosphere of erudition. Theobald and Ernest as they entered it, stum- bled over a large hole in the Turkey carpet, and the dust that rose showed how long it was smce it had been taken up and beaten. . This, I should say, was no fault of Mrs Skinner's but was due to the Doctor himself, who declared that if his papers were once disturbed it would be the death of him. Near the window was a green cage containing a pair of turtle doves, whose plaintive cooing added to the melancholy of the place. The walls were covered with book shelves from floor to ceiling, and on eveiy shelf the books stood in double rows. It was horrible. Prominent among the moat prominent upon tbe most prominent ihidi were a series of splendidly bound volumes entitled " Skinner's Works." Boys are sadly apt to rush to conclusions, and Ernest bdieved that Dr Skinner knew all the books in this terrible library, and that he, if he were to be any good, should have to learn them too. His heart fainted within him. He was told to sit on a chair against the wall and did so, while Dr Skinner talked to Theobald upon the topics of the day. He talked about the Hampden Controversy then ragine, and discoursed learnedly about " Praemunire " ; then he talked about the revolution which had just broken out in Sicily, and rejoiced that the Pope had refused to allow foreign troops to pass through his dominions in order to crush it. Dr Skinner and the other masters took in the Times among them, and Dr Skinner echoed the Tmes' leaders. In those days there were no penny papers and Theobald only took in the SpecUOor—ior he was at that time on the Whig side in politics ; besides this he used to receive the Ecclesiastical GaxetU once a month, but t»o The Way of All Flesh •"•^••w no other mdm. .^ *»** »PP«»™1. and The Way of All Flesh 121 ith any intclUgent EngUahman, ttUl It wu a pity Dr ISkiniicr had idected this particular point for hb attack, for h« had to leave hit enemy in poMeseion of the fidd. I When people are left in prtsseMion of the field, q>ectatort I have an awkward habit of thinkine that their adversary does not dare to come to the scratch. Dr Skinner was telling Theobald all about his pamphlet, and I doubt whether this gentleman was much more com* fortable than Ernest himself. He was bored, for in Iiis heart he hated Liberalism, though he was ashsjned to say so, and, as I have said, professed to be 0.1 \'he Whig side. He did not want to be reconciled to the Chui-ch of Rome ; he wanted to make all Roman Catholics turn Protestants, and could never understand why they would not do so ,* but the Doctor talked in such a truly liberal spirit, and shut him up so sharply when he tried to edge in a word or two, that he had to let him have it all hi« own way, and this was not what he was accustomed to. He was wondering how he could bring it to aii end, when a diversion was created by the discovery that Ernest had begun to cry — doubtless through an intense but inarticulate sense of a boredom greater than he could bear. He was evidently in a highly nervous state, and a ^ood deal upset by the excite* ment of the morning, Mrs Skinner therdfore, who came in with Christina at this juncture, proposed that he should spend the afternoon wiUi Mrs Jay, th? matron, and not be introduced to his voung companions until the foUowing morning. His iaxner and mother now bade him an affectionate farewell, and the lad was handed over to Mrs Jay. O sdhoolmasters — ^if any of you read this book— bear in mind when any particularly timid drivelling urchin is brought by his papa mto your study, and you treat him with the contempt which he deserves, and afterwards make hto life a burden to him for years — bear in mind that it is exactly in the disguise of such a boy as this tfiat your future chronicler will appear. Never see a wretched little heavy- eyed mite sitting on the edge of a chair against your study wall without sajdng to yourselves, " perhaps this boy is he who. if I am not careful, will one day tell the world wb^ ""•liner oi nan I wa« " rt ^ thfa lesson S'reJiTbS iTT *^*« **o«ta«8 '^ «>* have been writS^^; *** Preceding!^ CHAPTER XXIX Grandmamma AJIaby ^d^f ?° ^ Grandpapa PontifcxMd ^rfPJe~espeS^ The Way of All Flesh 123 age, without makmg provision for our not being quite such great sinners at seventy as we had been at seven ; granted that we should go to the wash like table-cloths at least once a week, still I used to think a day ought to come when we should want rather !*»<« rubbing and scrubbing at. Now that I have grovri older myself I have seen that the Church has estimated p obabiJities t^- ter than I had done. The pair said net a word ro one another, but watched the fading Ught vnd naked trees, the brown fields with here and there a melancholy coiiage by the road side, and the rain that fell fast upon the carriage windows. It was a kind of afternoon on which nice people for the most part like to be snug at home, and Theobald was a little snappish at reflecting how many miles he had to post before he could be at his own fireside again. However there was nothing for it, so the pair sat quietly and watched the road- side objects flit by them, and get greyer and grimmer as the light faded. Though they spoke not to one another, there was one nearer to each of them with whom they could converse freely. " I hope," said Theobald to himself, " I hope he'll work— or else that Skinner will make hun. I don't like Skinner, I never did like him, but he is unquestionaUy a man of genius, and no one turns out so nuuiy pupils who succeed at Oxford and Cambridge, and that is the best test. I have done my share towards starting him well. Skinner said he had been well grounded and was very forward. I suppose he will presume upon it now and do nothing, for his nature is an idle one. He is not fond of me, I'm sure he is not. He ought to be after all the trouble I have taken with him, but he is ungrateful and selfish. It is an un- natural thing for a boy not to be fond of his own father. If he was fond of me I should be fond of him, but I cannot like a son who, I am sure, dislikes me. He shrinks out of my way whenever he sees me coming near him. He will not stay five minutes in the same room with me if he can hdpit. He is deceitful. He would not want to hide him- self away so much if he were not deceitful. That is a bad sign and one which makes me fear he will grow up extrava- gant. I am aure he will grow up extravagant. I should ^^4 The Way of All Flesh ^^^tf^:7<^^^^m had not laK>w„ , takes his fancy/He Wtfth */^!>y or girl hJt^ ^ earn to know its us^ ?of ♦ITo A''^ "^y have n^onef a mmediately. I ^ h" wlS 1^' '"^^^ «° ^^ s^uwdeJ S?s «JJt^ out Handel's nam?hf**'^^.^^y *^« «th. DW s, and his mother MU Zfuf *" nustake for Hann the ' Messiah ' by h^Jt Wh 'l' S"°^ half the tunSi 8^: however, bloSdT, W^^' "l P''?,!^ nune fan?." toe « the male, indeed, ^ " .w?™"^"* **« We *« known. I wonder\SolK^i?*™ ""«»«>« Uie troth M«F»n,«„ continued- "*- «^»d or "™«P«it would be b«> >, „ X "bebe.ttogetjroungFiggin.oa.^t The Way of All Fles'- 125 (to ourselves first. That would be charming. Theobald would not like it, for he does not like children ; I must see I how I can manage it, for it would be so nice to have young Figginsr-or stay I Ernest shall go and stay with Figgins and meet the future Lord Lonsford, who I should think must be about Ernest's age, and then if he and Ernest were to become friends Ernest might ask him to Battersby, and he might fall in love with Charlotte. I think we have done most wisely in sending Ernest to Dr Skinner's. Dr Skinner's piety is no less remarkable than his genius. One can tell these things at a glance, and he must have felt it about me no less strongly than I about him. I think he seemed much struck with Theobald and myself— indeed, Theobald's in- tellectual power must impress any one, and I was showing, I do believe, to my best advantage. When I smiled at him and said I left my boy in his hands with the most entire confidence that he would be as well cared for as if he were at my own house, I am sure he was greatly pleased. I should not think many of the mothers who bring him boys can impress him so favourably, or say such nice things to him as I did. My smile is sweet when I desire to make it so. I never was perhaps exactly pretty, but I was alw& ys admitted to be fascinating. Dr Skinner is a very handsome man— too good on the whole I should say for Ifrs Skinner. Theobald saj^ he is not handsome, but men arc no judges, and he has such a pleasant bright face. I think my bonnet became me. As soon as I get home I will tell Chambers to trim my blue and yellow merino with " etc., etc. All this time the letter which has been given above was lying in Christina's private little Japanese cabinet, read and re*read and approved of many times over, not to say, il the truth were known, rewritten more than once, though dated as in the first instance— and this, too, though Christina was fond enough of a joke in a small way. Ernest, still in Mrs Jajps room mused onward. " Grown- up people," he said to himself, " when they were ladies and gentlemen, never did naughty things, but he was always doing them. He had heard that some grown-up people wo-e worldly, which of course was wrong, still this was quite distinct from being naughty, and did not get them punished or scolded h.-. •ven worldly r h^'hiJ" JT ^*P» *"d I'mwu wen m Jfite of Xthdr betels" Ch'Snl?; ^^ ^^^^l rfe hated Papa, Slw „^t u£ ^f^^^ andThC wiat none but a bad and ,?nJ?f^ .*?"**' *nd this wS •M «iat had been done for wS^'SiS^y ^o«W ™afte? Sunday; he did not ifke LivSi ^^^ *»« ly Father, nS tad fi ™" r Wiat was • business ' ? uiTii ""' did It aB ""^dering hoW^rid. Mf,'S?- NodoSbSZtl^ The Way of All Flesh 127 txcepC •CTvanta— and even these were cleverer than ever he should be. Oh, why, why, why, could not people be bom into the world as grown-up persons ? Then he thought of Casablanca, tfe had been examined in that poem by his father not long before. ' When only would he leave his position ? To whom did he call ? Did he get an i^^J JS?*?Z "°^ "^"y *^™« ^^ he caU upon his fathtt? What happened to him ? What was the noblest hfe that perished there? Do you think so ? Why do you think so ? ' And aU the rest of it. Of course he thotiht Casablanca s was the noblest Ufe that perished there ; tt^e ? *!?! ^ ^^ opinions about that ; it never occurred to ^ c!r . ^°^^ °^ *^® P°^ was that young people can- not begin too soon to exercise discretion in the ohsdience ^ IV^' ^u'^^'- ?*P* *"^ Mamma. Oh, no ! the only thought in his mmd was that he should never, never have been like Casabianca, and that Casablanca would have dt- spised him so much, if he could have known him, that he woidd not have condescended to speak to him. There was nobody else m the ship worth reckoning at aU : it did not matter how much they were blown up. Mrs Hemans knew them aU and they were a very incMerent lot. Besides ^Wanca was so good-looking and came of such a good And thus his smaU mind kept wandering on tiU he could toUow it no longer, and again went off into a doze. CHAPTER XXX Nmt morning Theobald and Christina arose feeling a tittle toed from their journey, but h^py in that best of all S!^*^ the approbation of their consciences. It would t>e tbeu: boy's fault henceforth if he were not good, and as g^perous as it was at aU desirable that he should be. What laore could parents do than they had done ? The anwer Nothing '^ wiU rise as readUy to the tips of the reader as to those of Theobald aad Christina themselves. 128 The Way of All Flesh ^e'^'.^^fttl^il"'.!?!' ««»". in knowing at what moment h^iJK'' ^ ' *>««» WM no M 2s?'did's^r«|ras'^«te« he pronounced Thaliri?^ «nd swallow him up beeamL he thundered, " X nT,^ J^ '• And thi? to^ ' W^" Su^h. ^Sld h^"£± 1 *^,9-«Sa?y in^y The Way of AU Flesh 129 l*."*?."^ T, En«t It ««»d Hk. Hvtog » tt. He wu himself, as has been said, in Mr Temoler'i form I who was .napi,fah, but not downright wfc^lndS very easy to crib under. Ernest uUd to wonL how M? I u^uu"^^^^ ^5*" ^« ^" a* scfaoTand would wk I J^' wh^^^er he should forget his youth wh« he g^ old, as Mr T«npler had forgotten his. He used to u£k he never could possiblv forget any part of it. * In- A J^S "^"^ ¥" h^' ^^ ^*» tometimes very alarm- ner spectacle on her forehead and her cap strin«s flvin* tZ^ ^ -^^ *^y whom Ernest had seleftS^SfhisHl the rampmgMt . scampingest - rackety . tackety - tow - mw.roaring«t boy m the whole school.''^ But she^used to ^ner, and there were no prayers, she would come in and say. Young gentlemen, prayers are excused this ev™ Zl L'^i.'"^' '''' ''' aU i all. she was a'^dirSd .J^'S^}^^ ^° discover the difference between noise and actual danger, but to others it is so unnaturd to mSJSf teave off taking turkey-cocks and gandere au lAW sight and out of mind whenever he cotSd. ^lediaUk^tS games worse even than the squalls of Se dt^^^ nShJj??*^?"i ""V"* ^*^'" ^« t*»an most boys. tS?C perhaps due to the closeness with which his father hadSt fe,!2>.^S « childhood, but I think in part i^^l tend«,cy t^jartb Uleness in attaining maturity!^^^ gjity. At thirteen or fourteen he was a mere bag^b^ M«i^ 'his ^**^* f ^•'^ V™ pigeon-breasted ; he i- Paired to have DO strength or stamina whatc^Sd I30 The Way of All Flesh »~~. «!>« "Si. to ".S2. £,r - qmte square »«/«r*flr«nn*o* -11 • V^^.^*^ *«*' ^e was Jigoro^f a„d tte Kv i-^^'wrhi^ "^ he worshipped them All Jkio «!1 j awards mm the more into them. Ne^r^S^ h Jj^? "IS^S ^^^^ *^^«» W» most dS^ rath!r?K«?^ ^ foDowed his instinct for the m^t^, rather than bs reason. Sapiens smm si sap^ ^h counters, ^th boys Ihood in. 1 ounted tbie than increases s. After leen well K>tbaU— ^against mUj, and > trouble ; on the The Way of All Flesh 131 CH/PTER XXXI ith foot- nraball J^eryone not to vas not he was >Ieased, greater nerally >derate The heavy handaSd ZchM .^.^^•fe'"?.^**'''""- longer about hi=pSh,Sd.teut^ 1^1^?*^^ **" "» of tZfbjrrif^^^^z^'i^'t^*^ troable than the Ie8»n ^in Tn-Tr v ?™? ""*" '«» tten which comnSSSk tt^^t^L^'Stln^rilS^ IS bnng him peace even at the last • sfiii i2« i J^u ^J' J° of bona /Sj^rl^^fofapSir"*^''^ "yK* '^"» «noant of P«nistoeLu g?^"if I^elSon^t"'' thi? to^' *wa« '■^T^i^'^ »' '*«r 8 to do this or EmathadTOTOncoS^ ^hf^ something with which we litil» ^ ^ essence. If we were doing anvthini? that S bdkvM in^ **• ^^ ^^* *^*^ °»ore than once «e was t(Ai by those who were in authority over him :£ 132 The Way of All Flesh thoafikt, at Iflttt, that he believed it. for ai vet h« ktui ;s?&«' ^\"*^" ^?' ssTd^d?' "tiS'M wat to much itronger and more real than the Emi^U l«?^^'w^•'*°"^ The dumb Ernest pSmSSwi wg^teahle tEingt at wordi, but pracUcaSySJSd a " Growing ii not thr easy plain tailing budneM that it i ^!^I^S^^ ^' ^ hSdto^hiS t£^ My but a growing boy can underatand r It requires atten ^y growth, and to your leswns too. Beddes. Utin an< Cntk are great humbug ; the more people iSwoTAw lS^d3£hMrS^y«'"^y*"' ^Sicep^ewbS you ddkht in other never knew any at aU or toSot wh^ ^ ; therefore they are nonsense. aU very well in their awntoe and county but out of place he^ NevSl^r auything until you find you have been made uncomforSlle 2? tC^r ^T*°" ^°' tWs or tS knowleyond his stfen^ to cZuSZ took- -though with passionate compuncSons of consdi^ce --the nearest course to the one from which he was debarred which circumstances would allow. wwuxcu f IL^j;^ 5»«»»cd that Ernest was not the chosen friend tfte more sedate and weU-conductcd youths then studying atRoughboiough. Some of the less dkirableboys3to go to publichouses and P«t him CHAPTER XXXII h«jinfl«e^ ui?nX hS»5^^'J^°«i^ Jow gi«at QnthedeathofhSfaTS iT?^yP'°^«<**obe. •bout thiS5?.S^'^Sd' 2?^^ ^^«» ^^ ^ •i-teiB, betieen ^ ^^ h^^L^^L!?*^ ^" •ympathy. and came up to I^Sf ^ bad been Uttle •o she said, to make Ae^onw She was determined, could, and she hSl d^J^!il u ^* ^ '^•PPy M she •etting to ^k to cto^Sta ^ J^ «>« 7? W of «w»«ralhr have. "" «» w*n women, or indeed men, haJSrSYer^^l^^^ «' <^. which ^15.000 left her by h^l?^ o^S^k ^tflements, and bad now absolute cOTtiSTi,^J^*^^**»<* «»» «he £900 a year. iSd toe^Sy h^iJ^S^ ^^ \^^t ■onndest securities, she hS rT^^"^*®? "* °<>°e but the She meanrSb? ri^tr^e^StSS**^ *^"* ^** ^«>«e tare which involved LTaSlL^.* ^S^t^l^-P^^' The Way of All Fle$h 135 !s^J!i^j^^ i""^*?^!' ^ •^ ^«>««* with thb ^ l^v^ 7^.^1 lower floo« wew IrtcS? u SS J!?^,^^°**'** *rf«<> to §«t ber to Uto a hoiu« to pWnly that he had to beat a retreat. She had nevttUklS Wttout going much into society the yet becani ac- quamted with most of the men and wom^nl^UmA Jttatoed a ncjiUon in the UtS^.^Siati^d :dL5fi? ^ffiir •? "Tt •*"«'^ ^^ ^Wy her opin^wS valMd in tpite of her never having attiipted ffanv wav to^tinguiA henellL She couidlave™ISi if X hS £S^^2J^*^V^i^ P^'^ "^^i^* P^ herselfTP^ STnS^*^** liked her aU the iJSUr becau«, ^he I, as she yoy well knew, had always been devoted to her SS StlJ^} ^^,f ^ * »«>« o*^ther adSrS if £ ^Ji!i' **"** ^^ ^^ discouraged them all,lnd1LtedlJ ^totoooy as wom«i seldom do unless they have vStS! fartjle income of their own. She by no n4ns, howew «fled at man as she railed at matrimony. andSuSuE f S!J^ in which even the most ciisori«3»borough where sfie could «2b wSi^: te SSS^n^^iTf ^!?r "«d«^t»kin« ; the had U^ Sr!!??l!?' *?* ^"^ *^«^^« y«a"' and naturally disliked thto Proq}ect of a imaU country town luch as Rowth- Must not people take their changes in this world ? Can anycnie do much for anyone else unless by making a wiU h£ ^^ °T happmess, and will not the world be pest canted on if everyone minds his own business and teav«oth^ people to nund theirs? Life is iSta toSS IJ!?fh.Yi"f^ 7"^^"^ » to ride his neighbour's d^ and the last is to wm, and the psahnist long since foimS. lat^ a commtri experience when he declared that no maa may ddiver Us brother nor make agreement unto God iS AJlthese mceUent reasons for lettmg her nephew alone occinred to her, and many more, but against them there pleaded a woman's love for children, and her desire to fi^ someone among the younger branches of her own family to ZS? ^ ^^ become warmly attached, and whom she could attach warmly to herself. Over and above this she wanted someone to leave her money to ; she was not going to leave it to people about whom she knew very Uttle. merely because tli^£app«ed to be sons and daughters of brothers and sister^ whbmshe ^1;?*','^^ % J"«^ ^ I»w«- and value of money Mceedingly well, and how many lovable people suffer and die yearly for the want of it; she was UttieUkdv to leave it I^t ^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^^^ It wlK, would be most K to J iJ 123*!? *^ *<> J»ave Md whom it would th^Je SSTv f n*^y "^ "^Wy. tf she could find one such ««wJ«rt *° °**^ ■»<** happv •o much the bettS! t^^^Jl.t^^'^ wd^^' Pafe to see whethi AtZld^^^ * «^* ^ealTf JUled. she must find t^hT^Ln^"^^ °°* • »«»♦ if she by^^Wood. *° '***' ^'^^ was not related to her ^^IS^i^ltY ?S J? ?^ °»°'« than once. " I wdl-dressed l^^l^^ l^lTt^ ^0^1.: h wfll . or the mv m/wi* -* 1-7^ J^. **'"er left me abundAn*i« «.^ii ^ "": — mode of m/^^^^J^^ily weU off? id sr known mi^^.£^^ "^P^^ «o that I have my n^>;;;'SSe^^Jv^JJ simple. itStlCe espedaUy aiixiouTSlh^l^^^f^y J moreover I ^ for jH.natured talk; she W^dl^th°^.?^2? «i^«» i?V°« ^«^ nwney to me woSh kl^i nJ^P^ *J»t her Wtdy to weaken L ti« tl^?'^^!^ «^ the most «*t I was aware of it b« t tSJT * ^ ^' I»«^ded •bout whom she should m^ke ht k^'* °^^ her talldS ''^ undentood that I wS^ot if iSffe ** '°°« m^wS ^ En»«thadsatisfi^h^S°t.*? ^ the person. ™ her strongly to SShSTuo ^,7^*°°"«^^'»^totempt d«ys'.reflection Sat Sb^^avit^Jj^ T^ °? *^ *fter mSy ao. with aU the^^lfw*2*^ *°^^^ wtually S «tf . At least.'STsaS MLT ^' *^ 'S £;^y It appeared to do so but^from fh""* ^y^' »°d ^er- b^^^bjoachthesubAn^a^^e^™-^^ bo-S SSJ^ttthttr^^ "^ 'i^- *t Rough. ! ^''"P^^^i'eXwev^jrto^t'jL^^^^^^^^ of years.^ was The Way of All Flesh 141 Street, and a>me to town for a week once in each month • of course, also, she would leave Roughborough for the greater part of the holidays. After two years, the thing was to come to an end, unless it proved a great succo? She should by that time, at any rate, have made up her nund what the boy's character was, and would th^ act as curcumstanccs might determine. TTie pretext she put forward ostensibly was that her doctor said she ought to be a year or two in the country ^er so many years of London Ufe, and had recommended Koughborough on account of the purity of its air, and its easy access to and from London— for by this time the rwlway had reached it. She was anxious not to give her brother and sisto: any right to complain, if on seeing more otlier nephew she found she could not get on wiS him. and die was also anxious not to raise false hopes of anv kind m the boy's own mind. ^ HaviM settled how everything was to be, she wrote to Theob^d and said she meant to take a house in Roueh- boroi^h from the Michaelmas then approaching, and men- tioned, as thouch casually, that one of the attractions of the place would be that her nephew was at school there and^e should hope to see more of him than she had done nitnerto. Theobald and Christina knew how dearly Alethea loved London, and thought it very odd that she should want to go and hve at Rdughborough, but they did not suspect that she ^^going there solely on her nephew's account, much lOB that she had thought of making Fmest her heir. If ♦^? T^iP^S?*^ *J?' *^*^r"**^ ^^ been so jealous that I half beheve they would have asked her to go and uve somewhere else. Alethea however, was two or three ^^ younger than Theobald; she was still some years shOTt of fifty, and might very well Uve to eighty-five or ninety ; her money, therefore, was not worth taking much trouWe about, and her brother and sister-in-lawSd dis- missed It, so to speak, from their minds with costs, assum- Ing, howevtt, that if anything did happen to her while they were stiU ahve, the money would, as a matter of course, come to them. '42 The Way of AH Flesh deed jhe'^^did'^rvSi ^^l^^i^^ ^^' is to say, u a sister of ThwblS'IT .TT" woridly, that to Theobald she had iid Se faL'^,?^'^ ^' l^ her I^ito Christina's thoughts ym St J? ^^ow much of his and bov'swelfare. SeStlhSl tt^K?*K^^ *»»i«*y for the but Christina had wStS^^!Si??i2"«»«>»« «<>4h! How can she know hcJTm^S irSi^ ^ stronger. •he had exclahned when tSSJS *^ «' «»r darlin« ? " Jitter. ''liSm^d^JJ^Ji^^^^'^^^^^t^M things bettn^i,7hMC*nf'^"^^ ^t would have satisfii'^^^'^ own/' Jh. leS that there never yet had h^ -? ^* *** ^^ *>een told Of some kind would not rnw «« fcll!r ^^^ f*»t an alliance and nr Jier she nor^SSd P^JS?? *"°* »«d neph^ ^ Jo«;'andChari~tew^n!?*^™****°'»avSany ;^5ood 4 him. Aft2Ww?^*l?*Ai"S?y •^^ « go and hve at Rou^hhAm^rk ""'"^^^w, if Alethea choM ♦« «d m»t make S?bS;"?!?' ""^ ""'"' ■»* w.U .^^ mce httie garden which suitl?l!?*°° ^*^ * «•»"Sfc^^ CHAPTER XXXIV Miss Pontipbx soon found out that Ern-.* ma ^ .« games, but she saw Alan *hl*%.l "**^j™«»t did not Hke to lite them H?^m^SJfeli« ^^^l^^ardlv be expertS boys, and at thelSe S^ TZ*I±? ^ ^«» other Kttle skdetQn. ^wMt^JLSl^*^ ^^ '^ » »«« and chest without toSj^S^S t^H^ "?» achool games did To sudSv iSJi.^ * ?f °*"*=^ *■ *^e which &ould add also t^hV^i ^*^* ^y «>°» °k»m luiety. Ro^w^d ha^^^ ^ ^lethea's tot unfortunately thSie^ S ri^f^ "^ P'^'P^ but Whateverlt TO to^^f ^w^L^®"*'^^®"^*. "hould like as m™ « Si^ Zi ii^J^^^I!^ '^ be •nd he murt tS^t£^^?*^f °«*«* «" football. fit«a hinnelf • if^»- IJ?^ ' " to have come orisinallv ^h&loveofmu^on£^a?d^5c^-,?l^ wh« he was n>endinff a half.lSi«-;?r^ bun one day be would nktl^^i^y^^^l^iP^J^^ ^^»«th«J course, the boy said y«^S^i°'.^ to play on. Of grandfather and tte ^i. hfhS Ml? ^ ^^* J»« entered into his hS^£f?„ftl^t- It had never gatitered from whS^Jnt l^^^dSt^SS.^ ^^ ^ of the question, he rose m «i«S^ Jt^V**^ "^ ^^ <«»* bave dJsired. ind ^tS te^?i*^**?^*"«»>««>«Jd plane so that he n^^^^^^JS^'^jT /*^ •^ -Ud inddentally^alSLlK SJj^SJ^*^^ The Way of All Flesh 145 tt ISt^r^' P«*aps foolishly, with the wisdom of tte^Gman costom which gives every boy a handicraft of ii^Hi!?"* fw°**.?° *^ "»*"«■' *« »»d " Professions ai« dl v«a>- weU for Uiose who have connection and^««t^ SS, ^o'*^****' 5"* othen™ they are white dephan" How many men do not you and I know who have talent assiduity, excellent good sense, straightforwardnS cv^ qnaKty in fact which should ioramSid sS^ISd wlK yet go on from year to year waiting and hopini? acainat t^ *° '^T* "**^. *° ^"^ ^^ ««»« are bom with ^.TSiifc ' "l?" °**^ "* *^'^"' *® ?«* " ? Ernest's father and mother have no Interest, and If they had they would not use It. I supDose they will make hii a der^Tor S 1 1 ^Sr^^?^>^ is the best thing to do%S^ fOT he could buy a hving with the monSr his grandfaS Idt him, but there is no knowing what the boy will think ^t when the tune comes, and for aueht we know he may ^t on going to the backwoods of America, as so nmy otto young rooi are doing now." . . . But, anyway, he W)uld hke making an organ, and this could do hii no harai, so the sooner he heg9n the better. ♦«iTtr*L!iu"«^* *! ^°^^ »^« *~«W« in the end if die tdd her brother and sister-in-law of this scheme. " I do ^"SE^i" "?• "^^ " *^* ^ Skinner will approve my cOTdidly of my attempt to introduce organ-ffiding f ^„^ "T^ f ' ?°,?«^'°'^ ^^t J ^ »ee w^ i^ £•!?? ^ *sd ; but then, if die had been as poor at thQT, she woiOd never have made it. Theydidnol 1 L^ Way of AH Flesh •Bc. with thoM wlio iwSdS;^n* w ?^* »»k« •cqMlnt. th«i fondd^tkS^SiSdte to th* Mam and J«dfintoitinthy Oiwch was the only pn^ ^J^^^n:!^"^ ?Si^r^' ^ the »%ht be »48 The Way of All Flesh »»n>«f»i. by whichon?S hk^**"* carpenter inRiufii. of work toTSd JSi wS^S thk or that ii^« ^ mttoW ShenewMvlTS.^^.ftf'**«*nte<>tawid or tMihmi9 ♦^ ui.r'v*^ K*^ «M » •ylUUa of Mwi .^-T-l own ««5o«^%*ssrk2^^ fate the woltohop Sd wTSie^'^' *°** wouff^come faterwt in what waThL^ a:^ ^^^ ®**« '^^ teok an what hit annt hfiwSedto feS^uP*^ ««tly «dy • few mMttawSfer hJti""* *?? **»^ fa Sand HaldM ttnok .«!4 a-5l^ " ®** *bont Latin and Gnlir Hh aimt let him invit* hh m«^ •nd if her Hfehld^ISf^ ^? *™« **»* was allowed h«- «Mt to heavy a rio^oSI Sf^ ®' ***** ckwd Wh nofortunately 4 wThk^iS yfunger manhood rSt •nd too bSLit toSt iJS^K**'^""***^ '^ t' *J>« foUowing half year •?^ Stt^ ^tosLi?*^ the tet*t;s^'s betnbA^^mS ..r^* T ""PP"" than Im had ev«r had aTStto.^ u 1!'* •»'«»»'"^ « I" boyhad »c Aocjxon which might cross the sligt'^ Mfhimafha ^ The Way of AH FJesh •"» meuit wen. ^ ""*'"''•">«»». I *ooM«yUttt nor what it wu for. Hb^i.? * *"" ""xxn « cmm correct thiiur. and aiV^rii* • ^ ^'"™ ^ thought was «»• that ttita*^;;^ fa'^wB* ™'Ik"^ enough to know P»o»l rale bigin to ds^ S^fJ?* K«atot menTST 6s i««tiv«^ „d CSStJ^^.i!~".P'*«<» *ith U>»thi,conSt^n»^^tS,^"?^** Sr«^3S Mnd to him, mid* lMniS,ZSir*i^! S*»"rt«'y an- other point in ha chmctS^ J£?**' ?■»"♦ ""Jm Ui»n«Bv ^« to find himrtnS?,'^**«ly that iS^ «v«r, aeon after Eai^^viilt ^'*** ^^ motniM. w. »»t ought to be taken a^nhZ JC!!?^ "*• JPWcaotJom I"adayortwoitS:j;!5?f'"*49?bo*"«^ ^-^^ The Way of AU Flesh 151 iJ^*JlS!!!i!? *'**.*?*™°°^ ®' *^ «• '^•Ph^w. "Don't icoM Urn. ' iht said, "If he it voUtUe, ^d continuaSy **^ *^^°P only to throw them down again. H^?a2 mofeMion, «he wud, and here the «ive one of heriSwd w«Thfc^*?l?''~"*'^**»o"*P'«>' beforehand. Let ^^Sf^,^l«t Wm stick to this; iStl aJ^v S^iTS ** *°^y ^'.^^^ *°d 'orty before he setUo^S^ Ttoafl Ws pre^ous infiddities wJl work togethw tohS forgoodifheistheboylhopeheis. ^ to l^^.'S^n^* continued. " do not let him work np m^mLat !S?^' ^"^^ °°^ °' *^c« « his Ufetime ; nothmg is weU done nor worth doing unless, take itaU Sril^r""P'?*?«!^y- Th«>bald^dCWs\iS wwld nve hmi a pmch of salt and teU him to put it on the taikof ^ seven ke warmly of them and were pleased at their graadp davi^klsr's wishing to be laid near them. Entering the churchyard and standing in the twilight of a gusty cloudy eveaing on the qrat ck)8e beside old Mrs Pontifex's grava whkli I had chosen for Alethea's, I thought of the many times that she, who would lie there henceforth, and I, who must surdy He (me day in s» luui been of mmic 1^ fcl~ s!?; . 5°^ ■»» ft«wl to inscribe a few Im of m„2!^. .' "S"*" at one time "wtonib5ton7lSdi"K ft**' '° "»»~«on with tt^tteSt'nS^tr5,i^.^r«'«*»' I •-> tUng, and had^Sta «» «o help me to the iMit knowing i. the aS^i %^;^^ *^ »«•«. X of Jttfa5>?TCo7a^,^!:s^*i" ' «• «*>* «nd goes thus :-i ' Handd's six grand fugues '^^^^^sa^^y^-^'^^ ^f^ ^fxy sorry for thiiiiirTh.r*r''*"^ «>'•«» old man who think o/ an^ JSte. 1?^riL'^?SL*«* ' «°«>t Atethea I ihaUk^ I*' w ^" *^. ~*,* ^^ ** '«• Aunt ^j^^^j^^ «au jceq) it for mysdf.-Your affectioiiate EiMiST PoimrBz." V^^n^i^Z^^:^^^ ^ •^« for two. thought to my^^^^^i^y ? Dear, dear mTl "• the go-by S ChS2!^- V •"'' wckhngs do^ve wch a strain as ^t-SSy i^IS^hf^ '** ^°^'' »°d da Vind himself T^YiIt^£^l^!f **°* ^ Leonardo gwat many otfier young people of ^S5^ ^ ■ The Way of All Flesh 157 CHAPTER XXXVII •hlJlSS^t"^^*^ had not been too weU pleiiMd ^Jf^ ^T^^ ^* ^^ Ernest in hand, they^ ^TJV^ ^^ connection between the two 4. fa! ^?Iw*?K2^*"?y; They laid they had made sure Sl7 w*t*^ ""i^ ^ ""^^ ^^^^^'^^ ^ going to nS^ Ern«t her heir. I do not thfak she had rivaf thwn^ mnchaaa hint to this effect. TheoWdfadeS^^^eS^ to midewtand that she had done so fa a leSr wW^^ K^rSi* *^u ^^* ", *^ "^"^^ forthwith assume fa fa* miMjnatioii whatever form was most convenient to Mm. I do not think they had even made up thS^S Stob^arSi° ^ ^r^^^r^nev be£o« they kn^ «^ !?5? *l*5*.f°'°l*'* ^^' an^ M I have uid al- rwdy, if they had ttought it likely that Ernest would be made heu: over theff own heads without their hav^ at SJeSTTt 2?^h.S;. *^ "•^ '' '-^ ^^y Tto, however, did not bar their right to feelinc achieved h^ SSifSU P«>^,di«PPohitment on thS^y-. S Si-!!?;^^ ?**• J* '^ onJy »n»*hle of than ^ dqyyfated under these drounitances. ™° «> «* ...P™™ ■*^^*hat the will was simply fraudulent, and wwrtthjiirfitwaytowoA. Theobald, she said. sl»S» h^«^lft^ CWeU<«^, not fa fuU court hStfaSaS hS Jr!^if^^ *?^ *^ "^^^ »»««; or. per. hMi tt would be even Setter if she were to go hetlfc- SSftJltS?!!*'^ I bdfeve fa the end Theobald^ •^ja»I^ a«K^r (w^ had become a widower a iS IS^S"*^^ SS ^^ "5 ^'^^^ ^^J»» however, she fiiS hot not ungratefully declined i she should evti, iht^ rfl p 158 The Way of AH Flesh cootlnoe to think ol him M a friMvl— •♦ ♦1.4- ~j-A Av Plice. the idM^M^^ lornii meetinK them m another i««B. «e Idea never to much as entered his nrind: ■7 means of wliicfa he might vent inlimirVm i^ 7^' MgiifMii], waa aothiiw dse than EniMt^nK5l**i???^ L^ i?L!2? **> »»ke yon her hsir-iTSTavStif «o«i^ of ywo" oondoctin* TOBMdf ta«3*- ^•■*' **' give her cifidence kTvS •^Sf!rlSL^V**^ •••►h^ left yon aothi^ and the wbokof^L^SJ-Sl ' ft The Way of AH Flcah 159 hK9% u I,believ« yoo know, a niMai inheriUace. which k mlwndwiUiidiiig on the lawyer's part. The beouMtW prjbi^ intended not to taS^ecTSl ^ SdS^S S^tlSISSL ^"°**^>^5^"'«»»»»n^ TheobaM't letter, nor tWnk ajough about my godson to guess what might ^v f^ ?S*\.S.'^°***^ mwy yeaii after^ Sat ? T^SLZ^^^?^ ** **~^' *»<> *n whkh other old tetten and sdiool documents were coUected which I hir^e wedintWbboot He had foigotten that he hS it. b^J mt^^:^^S^ ? *^* he remembered it othJto rebOUon which he reccfi^ed as lightSSTtlSurff hTdw^ not opaily avow it. iJot the leait s^ous thZ wmSS ttwodd. he feared, be his duty to give up^l«3Sy^ jp*n<^therhadlrfthim; for & it ™ htf o^ 3SSh? mistake, how could he keep it ? ' w»wigo a ««2l!S? *^ «»t o« the half year Ernest was hstless and w^i*^ ^^I^ ^*7 ^°°^ <>'*»» of his sc£S3o^ Wmd^ and prone to idealise everyone hito being hb ««wiw except those who were obvfousl y a cooddaS S! Death hto. fie held himself muA™^if2S te»u^ he wu without that phvsical strength^ v^sSS ^•omuch coveted, an/ also beSelie tae?ffi^ wU^could deserve the name of a good quaHtv £i«S mitm£y bad. and one of those for^whoTK; H^ gta^ ferwentance, thou^ he sought it ev«withSa^ ne Idolised, never for a moment suspecting that he rai*ht have capacities to the full as high wSiXSh^. poted of the baser sort, with whom he could at aSmte be upon equal terms. Before the end of^lSflL he ^^^ ^J^ «S^te to which heSi bin^l^ during hfa aunt's stay at Roughborough. and UsoM dri^ tiop. varied, however, with bSita of ^LXSkJ^^ ■ C £ m M hj U wi The Way of AH Flesh of Uiaiothar, retaaed i6i ia» » mom landsUo bS«S S!?Jr" ^ J»n one day W» Piipt and Ma^rS?&n3^ Tn^P^^ "^^^ ^ SattMt. or %SaSv«r It^ mS* "^^ ""^' »»<> ttat ha <«Wy WS^d ^•^ •» ^n<«^wiiilahiitte^SiSlfi^K^"^ At other «M*ihaiaidin^rf*l^lS2r^J?***»«'»» *»«> of 2Jto the hfet^^ ;53^ >P J^bj^ Cl»t«r, used to brLi*22;2^!? f J^ •* «*<»l *t i6f The Way of AM Flfl8li Dos« about whom b« wm pmoacbd tbat tliiy eoold J?*~v??^.^ tapt him •• Iw tt peMibIa ftt ft dit. tenc^t thit it pntty mieli tha csm with all boyt tvaijrwbttft. At Iftrt th^ rMched ft criiis. Ukm which thiry coold M?^^™r* "^Ji.^?^ *»H<^ ^*<* • docmwit in Ui portmftatflftu, which IhftotMld ttianfttiMd ■• "in. i^^^« ^ZJ!!I:^ ^ wftft tftiely over. Thie time Theofaftid bed mftde ft mftt tai ftbout the extras, hot bed gnidrini^ pftmed ttem : ■ojal etfttlalice. with which the bm condnded. nepaf» on wUch tfacee details were to be fontid was aafoBomi: BBMftv oe ns ComocT amo PMmnni op Baaan Vwaa Van Fonc. sAtv yaAa bmoiiio MneeMMaa gMita^Idle. litll«H and aaimpcoviag. DMaity Jakeat*- -Mb* «•!« The Way of AH Flesh 163 ■•rks a6 9 tki^k^pockrt «• «. oi. iM. T^M,§i. *l JO as Toltf ia2 »• «» II Total 4i { '! b« iMdt to d«p«ad apoa CHAFTER X.iXVVA tWimimmiM oomMnd wit/- ^a,:,.. Vn i • «mmto piift^^iLSBuL'* :'* ^" '^^ ^'^^ - renmkMHf wSntLtSTdiSd.' bS"^^ "^. ^^^ >-« SSrSd S^ Srid^i?? ."T"*"* oooN-ltai ot^Sii? i64 The Way of All Flesh •he camt from Devonshire I landed I eaw a ttnln ol W apt what foundation there was for the rtotyTSiatSe torjians made settiements on the coast of^ievonsUre ttd CoinwaU lon^ bdore the Romans conqueredBriSn "fjj?*t !T • ™* *>">^' »nrfnf *»>• holidays so that ^^ nS?" *^ P^ »>•««• b^tkst without ^iS. is ^W ^^ mamma-or rather, perhaps, wi^^ b^^^bed ^ them. Ellen would' ^SSSJ b?SSe •weeping the drawing-room floor and dusting wUle he^ gMjng, and the boy, who was ready to mSL^^^ most people, soon became very foi^ of hoTlfeWnS Indeed he had hardly been thrown in wHh aay^,^' The Way of AU Flesh 165 aoeptUsAmitiAIlaby, Wi ««t«r Chariotta -^ and hk Aunt AletliM, hit motiMr. MiBja^; wmetimM mito he had g^ worn o« with EDO,, .nd th. p2?Ui be«ZlSt g2*^? ^^rgjirr^ ss'Sss.Trsri OCT, UM rotes had fled from her cheek, and Am iMnMriTl. Sl^tfJ ««fa« into a decline. ae^dST^JS D^M^T^ "^S^" '^ Theobdd, and ao next time nrMartin came fell« waa tent for. S Martfai mSi^ Omrtina hcnelf if she had been aWe to conc^^LcK M aament in comiection with a saW Xu^ ,^ mjnfed life should have preserved aU nnSaSsd d23! ^S??*°~' *5f°» *^W taint of iSSr^ *^^ m.^ii'^ S^^'*^ *^* ^ thrSTStf months more Qlen would become a mother, Christffi SSS 1 ^f II i66 The Way of AM Flesh •■to: l«««niSSS^tatoS^2&^S.fS' ojy tlitog to do wJ^^Eto to ,SS?2S ^ & tMdmSSJ & ^•.^^°^* "* "iiwrfnl eon. •-»™™ra wiucn uuent cooanoed prtii in «i mm far • w^^o(»i.ion. Ae couM ^t hSSST ^ * 1^ iT ^! w«qu«tkm— horrid thoacfat I-hm to who WM the partner of Ellen's £iiilt ? wlTiT^ViTu S. T £«»to™»t not lCA.„d ^TEiSicS^^ii*^' t^riSr^j^ r??i Theobald came in from a viait in the '^.' if ^ ^ *^^ *>'**»« «>»cking diaSverv m^^\'t^ '^^ "^"^ SJ-T^Ybelieve was on th. double reflectioi^^ SShTuinr^Lift^ ^^ ^V^^ i'l The Way of AU Flesh 167 'J^jWa.pMd that tt, am. BMt b. lort to ptytoc M iDt WM being dnvn to the ftatk» "••««*/ 1! i '] i 'i ! ( ! i -i CHAPTER XXXIX SS??7*M^ °^ •" *^ «»"»in«. but came in to the rf ^!?.^ ****"*• "^^^ b«in« put into the camaffe S. SfSj^f*»5?^^ *»*^ ^"^ *»i window, at which the cook w-rta^jpeeiuig the poUtoee for dinner, and foundte i^S^i^'^***"^!: '^^•^ *« '^w what aUlSe m^ wa^ who It was that had ju»t gone off in the wmv S?St^*l/ TT» cook told hSlt^O^Tut ^ tt^.i!'^^ P?^ ■»»°»^ make it croia h« Si Si wS Si'TJffi •'^y ; when however. EnS S!^2? !? '^ •f'* ^ *"** ••*«i no further quertionfc Jbe^Wmi^bout it after extorting the nJtSSS ™ ^J ^**1 •°°*® minutci to arrive at the facts of the ^2J^iw^ il?"^*^ ^^ he lean^ !^t Z .j5ff*^*"°*i?£*?°>*»<»"^Wnhim. He did not ^?!ii!iSL?lJ*^ ^^^ ^ '^^ could ha^ dSS muck otherwiM than they actually did. They mi^t^ 168 The Way of AH Flesh }^US!^ *" I»«Wt«ti, •»! Mad to kMD Um laSST'.w'Ku ?" "574.* ■» S**'"^ fami the cook. r«JESLP**5 promptitude than he had shown vet hi. JJdSSJSc^thr^ •"**i^'* ^ had tr«&is XitlSfor J Imnf"^^ ; there was his knifewwS boyswh?^^ndS;'«* •• good as iny one di ^1^ °?^ endurance he 4s The Way of AH FIcah 169 2Sf*^7**V Md as a run of ilx or leven mUes acnut Z^^.^i ?>ore than he wti used to.^ dkl^ A^by the help of the short cuts of ovWuiC SS ^re uje tram left. So he ran and ran and ran tiU his tort wind was gone and his second came. andhe^iSd breatte more «isUy. Never with " the himds '' h«S he «?tw^ -"^ ***^^**P °^ *^« »^ort cuts he did not Steh nSf^^if*^"*^'' *°.^ ^°^*^ P'-ob^Wy not have done sTS ^d^iSli^Sr^f *" ir ^>«^ and seen Cru^ Si ^^ "*^' '®' *^* carriage to stop a quarter Ta ^n°^iyi;„:V'^ '"^^^ '" """ ^^"^ ^' -^ •nrfliTi,^'^" ""*** *^ ^ertion ; covered with dust S cS^ '^'^U'*" *"^ *^°** «»««^« a trifle Aort for Sn SJi?K*"* ^^e' and the litUe money he had. T^ out if !» did not Mk^ S?*w.^* only thi^ kmt tooMT or taler it iStSl ^ jooMBMid EUen, whom I am veiy fond oT I ]b^»^«^ ker my watch, my knife and tU^^tSiiit^^A!; you for some more sooner than I othJwS. m£h?\!Il a knifo. But then foncy the coitematfon «SS^iSh •a^mcwijcement would Uve occiSSedT FW^ Then his mother wouM built into *«w« •«/! <«»«i ti to repent and seek the thi^bS^TlT^^^'tiS? tf«w was yet time, by foS^ <«^JSLi^%,^i J^5 SrS^i^l^JL"' *^*.?»^^'«*- Eraest couIdXaB th2 Muwdlas they could, and now. at he lay «i tte TrST ^•«iw, lome one or other of which was «• SrtSte The Way of AU Flesh 171 ^hJii^V? *»,•«*. kept running in hit iMtd till they JMBnHty. Troth might be heroic, but it wat not within thtrMge of priMrtictldwnertic politico £? J?^ ^"HiMtion to Imow that he had not enooch ISLJt'^ oonne wouW be to aay that hehadloet the wjtch. md iwi late for dinner because he had been looldng wr It. He had been out for a long walk— he choee thJ "■•^•™» the fieWe that he had actually taken~«nd the ;wa*J« Wn« very hot. he had taken off hit coat and ^•wttcoat ; in carndnc them over hit arm hit watch, hit nooey, and hit knife had droroed out of them. He had f^ <>«^y home when he iound out hit kiat, and had run ^LSi %f i*! ^ ^^ il*^ »k)ng the line he had momd^tiUathMthehadgivenitup; teeing the carriage oomfagback from the tU&n, he had Sit pick him up and bring hha home. "^ ^p^coverrfevenrthing.therunmi^andaU; forhit&ce tott Nwwed that be omtt have been runn^ hard : the SLSnS^ TJ^i^** he had been teen abotrt the to MforaEBen hadflone, and thit he wat happy to believe !«• not the caae ; for he had been out except ^tdw hit fowmtaitee'totervtaw with the cook. I&lXr^dlMi optinthejynth; hit mother had certainir not come acnA Un^Md hit farotiier and titter bad abo been out with S ioimett. He knew he could depend upon the cook and tne otttt lervanta— the roachman would tee to tUt : on the whole, therefore, both he and the coachman thought tlie ttory at propoeed by Ernctt would about meet the requanementt of Uie cate. ^^ ^ttt 112 The Way of AM Flesh CHAPTER XL door, ha hewd hit father't voice in iti aniSSt tM^Tfe qjjrfag whjther IfMter Ernest hi^^iUmdfwtaiSS^ He S^^IXlllSSo^^--^ fittle ST mtlfhL*2lSi;ir!i ^ • terdwHiwSS? "roe oy uttle he told his story, and thooidi TheohaJH with raeobtld-that Ernest had iotbSenin ttTK,^ JhSL irr '^•PPS?^ **« ^^ acquitted on this acconSt for ?S^fci^y' r**^* a ttain upon his Sw^BTftShim ^eobald w in a good ^'tm^^^^^^'^T^ the papa: that morning that hto stecST W^KTrfS^ ■cteaDy prescrilN^ a glass of wine aft«T,rSJ^ •jMlMojy, did not choke him, butmS hto^ffi awredieerj^y than was nsual with 1^ "^ ^ That night when he said his DravenThii i«.-r*-j m pwgraphs to the effect thathe'St'J;? ^^^t^ :So^ln?rat^* Ss^St^S:^^^ «rf which detection migfit even yet easUy «i!NSf dTy W-^f. The Way of AU Flesh 173 pmainff, tad trembled etch time he hewd hb lathed £♦ lis?! *»*;*«^-«d thit wo ao fatenttfag that ahe feft bcwiid to get aa near the tnith aa ehe cwddT .aMT?S«*^ "y poor, pale-faced, heavy^yed boy," ih* Jjdto Urn one div in her Idndeat mannVrFcoii luSd ^^^^rxi^,^''' • ^**^ <»^ -^^ -J5L°!? I^* ?**=^i*°**^y *<^ Whenever hit motherwanted what ahe called a confidential taUMSShSn S"jfiS^!^*t? *^* "^^^ - ^^ "oatliiSuelS*^ 21^^ S ^^P^J**' «^P»»«°- All mothers do thSv^ ^t^r^u^^i ^ aSSg-room i. to fatte. li ^ present case the toia waa particularly weU adapted fora SkSiss^,^ *". old. fadiioiaed onr!33r;^ i«S^^^^]^^***"***^'»*»^°n»- Once aaf ely pennS fato one of ita deep comets, it waa like a dentiat'a^a? S^{S*r7*°,fl*.°"*.?'*«^- Here die coSl^i Wm ^« to puff him about, if thia ahould aeem deaOTb^ 2fa ^^S"*^!,**,!? ?y "t^ ^"'d »>«Or her headfa tS Sdr!2&L"£i;^'*iS^i° an agony of gS J^jMidomfaaed of ita rffect. None of her fiivoiite ISSnrS! ? ^y ^'^ in her uaual seat, the «m^ o> tfceright hand lide of the fire-place, and w l^ft^T^f^ ^^ ^ '~*^* toneSSthSwS foiiig to be a sofa convenation that he took hia place like haiLfidlS^^ taldng hold of hi. hmVhSS K5S?1] J "^^ **^' promise me never to Zr^^^'^y^^^P^oroixDB; promise me ^ I I t74 The Way of AB FIdh dowB hii htad ami praariMd. WkttdM MddlMdo? f^ S'iSS^*'^ *• ■• •^ *^. d« Emiit II »on oi^t to hnTvZrJ!!-"" "mMrna in as «Udi -Stett' ^ JL-Sf «» w hrt «rf „. to be, ludwt *f^riiri?!^S*J** •"^ •» «*» «^iSr5,?h5l^^ ah* kMir r- «« onn wuiing vymptihy than yiw Arhyto The Way of AH Fksh 175 M •tiMr MUM tlMa fa^nUitodt." "««*«»eMioy Bnmt could nerer §Uad btkm tpoliMi Id in tlik »»• {•••J^PJ^t. Bot hb moth. WM b^inaiM SeS — — THCT OKK upon Urn ttaat wHlioiit anmbv tkmdv CStlJrl^' ^•''ST^ fot htai into tht B«J Md nBOMlrmted mora thu one* upon thcM ooca^^ ffr^l?^ «it to hto motto hSTdillSloSrtohS WjoojJdMwii h«d been, but Chrtotina hiul mhntyt totoS hjMwtth hto «id ihowid him in th. demrt^SSS ■wjjer tiut in etdi cMe she had been light, and that he •djnce that iwbade her to be iilent, and iainit tto thm !?1!1? ^22^' *°' ^ •" «^ bound to fdW the dicSS ofw conscience. Eraert wed to have to recito ahvmn •boot oonecience. It waatotheeflfect thatiTSidffSJ MjMnamma^i cwidence haa not kft oir tteal^^ E«jjrtteoMolhi.cham.atItou«hbomn^^ ^5« a boy hM onoe ipolna to dbnmmiih^ ^ .. *uu •boot hit moUier's I twMB him and her. o« ttia itla. and of the i.t«ni rf2S^ JS^Sir^^ 2fi**^u*^ fflng Wmeeif hito her anftat HwoSi ZSj?* the inuDgled bones of too many mardefedM«h £?^t™^ *o^aUow hhn by any possibility to trust I iL^3&S?^S!^i!ii2???* Ws mother. " dther thai i am mistaiMn, and that thsw it nothfa^ on wur mind. Of MKXOCOTY tlSOUniON TBT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) |£|Z8 lw ■ M ^^" ■■■ |54 |12 ■ 2.2 Jf |3j« ■■■ ■ 2.0 RHi^^a I i.8 ^ /1PPLIED IIVHGE Inc 1653 Eost Main SIrMt Roch«t«r, Nn Yofk 14609 USA (716) ♦82 - 030C - Phofw (716) 288 -5989 -Fox 176 The Way of All Flesh that you will not unburden youxsdf to me : bat oh, Ernest, tell me at least this much ; is there nothing that yoiirq)ent M , nothing which makes you unhappy in connection with that miserable girl Ellen ? " Ernest's heart failed him. " I am a dead boy now," he said to himself. He had not the faintest conception what his mother was driving at, and thought she suspected about the watch ; but he held his ground. I do not believe he was much more of a coward than his neighbours, only he did not know that all sensible people are cowards when they are off their heatt or when they think they are going to be roughly handled. I believe, that if the truth were known, it would be found that even the valiant St Michael himself tried hard to shirk his &mous combat with the dragon ; he pretended not to see all sorts of miscondfict on the dragon's part ; shut his eyes to the eating up of I do not know how many hundrec^ of men^ women and children whom he had promised to protect ; allowed himself to be publicly insulted a dozen times over without resenting it ; and in the end when even an angel could stand it no longer he shilly-shallied and tempori^d an unconscionable time before he would fix the day and hour for the encounter. As for the actual combat it was much such another wurra-wurra as Mrs Allaby lutd had with the young man who had in the end married her eldest daughter, till after a time behold, there was the dragon lying dead, while he was himself alive and not very seri- ously hurt after all. " I do not know what you mean, mamma," exclaimed Ernest anxiously and more or less hurriedly. £Qs mother construed his manner into indignation at being suspected, and being rather frightened hcxself she turned tail and scuttled off as fast as her tongue could carry her. " Oh ! " she said, " I see by your tone that you are in- nocent ! Oh ! oh ! how I thanik my heavenly Father for this ; may He for His dear Son's sake keep you always Sure. Your father, my dear " — (here she spolre hurriedly ut gave him a searchmg look) " was as pure as a spotless angd when he came to me. Like him, alwa]^ be self- denying, truly truthful both in word and deed, n«ver The Way of All Flesh 177 foigetful whose son and grandson you are, nor of the name we gave you, of the sacred stream in whose waters your sins were wa^ed out of you through the blood and blessing of Christ," etc. But Ernest cut this— I will not say short— but a great deal shorter than it would have been if Christina had had her say out, by extricating himself from his mamma's em- brace and showing a clean pair of heels. As he got near the purlieus of the kitchen (where he was more at ease) he heard his father calling for his mother, and again his gi^ty conscience rose against him. " He has found all out now, * it cried, " and he is going to tell mamma — this time I am done for." But there was nothing in it ; his fatiier only wanted the key of the cellaret. Then Ernest slunk o£f into a coppice or spinney behind the Rectory paddock, and con- soled himself with a pipe of tobacco. Here in the wood with the summer sun streaming through the trees ar.i a book and his pipe the boy forgot his cares and had an interval of that rest without whidi I verily believe his life would have been insupportable. Of course, Ernest was made to look for his lost property, and a reward was offered for it, but it seemed he had wandered a good deal ofi the path, thinlring to find a lark's nest, more man once, and looking for a watch and purse on Battersby piewipes was very like looking for a needle in a bundle of hay : besides it might have been found and taken by some tramp, or by a magpie of which thare were many in the neighbourhood, so that after a week or ten days the search was discontinued, and the unpleasant fact had to be faced that Ernest must have another watch, another knife, and a small sum of pocket money. It was jnly right, however, that Ernest shoidd pay half the cost of tne watch ; this should be made easy for him, for it should be deducted from his pocket money in half- yearly instalments extending over two, or even it might be three years. In Ernest's own interests, then, as wdl as those of his father and mother, it would be well that the watch should cost as little as possible, so it was resolved to buy a second-hand one. Nothing was to be said to Ernest, but it was to be bought, and laid upon his plate as mk 178 The Way of All Flesh a smprise just before the holidays were over. Theobald would have to go to the countv town in a few days, and could then find some second-hand watch which- would answer sufficiently well. In the course of time, therefore, Theobald went, furnished with a long list of household commissions, among which was the purchase of a watch for Ernest. Those, as I have said, were always happy times, when Theobald was away for a whole day certam ; the boy was beginning to fed easy in his mind as though God had h^d his prayers, and he was not going to be found out. Alto- gether the day had proved an unusually tranquil one, but, alas ! it was not to close as it had begun ; the fickle atmo- sphere in which he lived was never more likely to breed a storm than after such an interval of brilliant calm, and when Theobald returned Ernest had only to look in his face to see, that a hurricane was approaching. Christina saw that something had gone very wrong, and was quite frightened lest Theobald should have heard of some serious money loss ; he did not, however, at once un- bosom himself, but rang the bell and said to the servant, " Tell Master Ernest I wish to speak to him in the dining- room." CHAPTER XLI LoKG before Ernest reached the dining-ioom his ill-divining soul had told him that his sin had found him out. What head of a family ever sends for any of its members into the dining>room if his intentions are honourable ? When he reached it he found it empty— his fidher having been called away for a few minutes unexpectedly upon some parish business— and he was left in the same kind of sus- pense as people are in after they have been ushered into thdr dentist's ante-room. Of all the rooms in the house he hated the dining-room worst It was here that he had had to do hisLaSn and The Way of All Flesh 179 Crock I«8on8 with his father. It had a imeU of some par- ticubr land of pohsh or varnish which was used in poM- tag the furniture, and neither I nor Ernest can even now come within range of the smell of this land of varnish with- out our hearts failing us. Over the chimney-piece there was a veritable old master, one of the few original pictures which Mr George Pontifex tod broujht from Italy. It wa3 supposed to be a Salvator Kosa,andhadbccnboughtasagreatbargain. Thesubject was Ehjah or Ehsha (whichever it was) being fed by the ravttism the desert. There were the ravens m the upper nght-hand comer with bread and meat in their beaks iid dawj, and there was the prophet in question in the lower l^ft-hand comer looking longingly up towards them. When Ernest was a very smaU boy it had been a constant matter of regret to him that the food which the ravens carried never actuaUy reached the prophet ; he did not understand the limitation of the painter's art, and wanted the meat and the prophet to be brought into direct contact One day, with the help of some steps which had been left in tne room, he had clambered up to the picture and with a nece of bread and butter traced a greasy line right across It from the ravens to Elisha's mouth, after which he had fdt more comfortable. Ernest's mind was drifting back to this youthful escapade when heheard his father's hand on the door, and in another second Theobald entered. " Oh, Ernest," said he, in an off-hand, rather cheery manna-, there's a Uttle matter which I should Uke you to cxplam to me, as I have no doubt you very easily can " Thump, tiiump, thump, went Ernest's heart against his nbs; but his father's manner was so much nicer than usual that he began to think it might be after ah only another false alarm. ^ u" \\ ^ occurred to your mother and myself that we ■ho^d hke to set you up with a watch again before you went back to school " (" Oh, that's aU,'^said Ernest to hmiaslf qmte reheved), " and I have been to-day to look out for a second-hand one which should answer every pur- pose so kng as you are at school." ;!l! »■ 5 i8o The Way of All Flesh a oriSnf }L^ A i?^^ *^^^' "lasmuch as it had ' E P he must own ttaT it^ v^i '■} f™"? )"««« S^^P-ple to hav.r«,:«2 ^SutU^f £^^ S^>«a^piok«, the ™tch „p ".raTrLtX^-JS This to the best of my bdief mu not «cii«te. Theo. The Way of All Flesh i8i tald'8 first assumption had been that it was En.M» -i.- turned out of this house in circumstances wwih IwUI nS poUute your eara by more particularly de^ribSig I put aside tlie horrid conviction whiSTwasWinnina Shfh?? ""ri" f^l*^' *">• "hose p^perty it^ TS had ran afta- the carriage, tiU as she said Lu wae b^k g^.t. teU me whether this apjSun/'Syl™^?™; « k ll i82 The Way of All Flesh JoKjS'd'S ^t foT STT*' ??'»''» ""^"I that ^^a L?^ JX^ E£S^^«4^ to Theobald he sSdin a i!^h «» Jtnke hjm, and turning ■»t atte^l t ^Tc^ "^ '^'^ •""' which I^ now wLY^l'^lf r*" what an thi. i, rfKmt- bad master to me, but I do ^vtitltiTL^^ Z^ ^ * The Way of All Flesh 183 tdmit that you have been an exccUent servant until this ^Jfi^* * business came on, and I shaU have much geasuremgivmg you a character if you want one. Have you anything more to say ? " but what I've said I means and I'U stick to-charactS or no character." *'— *.««u«,iw T v^»' yPJ^Jt^i "0* be afraid about your character. John." said Theobald kindly, "and as it is getting Lt^ ^.^ ^ ""* ^'^'^'' ^' y°" *° ^«*^« ^^ house before to>morrow mommg. rJL?^ ^Vu'"^^ °° '■•P^y fron^ Jo^. who retired, packed up his things, and left the houi at once. When Omstina heard what had happened she said she cou^d condone aU exceot that Theobafd should have been SrS'lu'* '"?^ insofence from one of his own servants ^ough the misconduct of his son. Theobald was the bravest man m the whole world, and could easily have collared the wetch and turned him out of the room, but how fw more dignified, how far nobler had been his r^ly I How It would tdl m a novel or upon the stage, for though the stage as a whole was immoral, yet there were doubtl^ £*^t?i*^ir^'?'^"l^P^°'^si^ta^«- She could fancjr the whole house hushed with excitement at hearine i!i™*"®5*^''' ""^ ^^y breathing by reason of thek mterest and expectation of the coming answer. Then the ^^^S^^^^ ^IFf^ ^^ 8~^ ^ Macready-would say., rshall leave Master Ernest, John, to the reproaches ofhisownconsaence." Oh, it was sublime ! Whiitarow of awplauje must foUow f Then she should enter herself, and fling her aims about her husband's neck, and call hinJ her hon.h«uled husband. When the curtain dropped, it would be buzzed about the house that the scene iSSwit- nessed had been drawn from real life, and had actually occurred m the household of the Rev. Theobald Pontifex who had married a Miss AUaby, etc., etc. '^°°"'«. As r^ds Ernest the suspicions which had already cn»8ed ho- mmd were deepened, but she thought it betti to leave the matter vi^iere it was. At presentlhe was in a very strong position. Ernest's official purity was firmly 1 84 The Way of AH Flesh Wm J8 a kind of jS»h ^H li„T^* *?**• ""^ »°»ider what she had wantS^ 5S„/^" A"*" "* f "«' ™» was the son hi,^?^"„aijhr ' *^''' ™ *° ^^ °^ i* ? hadl,t^i}iaf?^te"^^^^ ^™«* 7?«JJ ^ father KXuId rSoKhi?:a1^rSt^^ i°'M?? *^* the sum he had paid for it iS', l r5*i* ^^^"^^ Redact to pay a few slSC ratii^lhan hI^? ^^^^ ^* t)etter the ^tch. se^nSt^^^Jr^^^P"*® the ownership of EUen~fh)m^?,^et ^^1'^^^ undoubtedly riven it to extend ov^ ^0^1^'^"^^;^^^^:^^ should go back to Roueh^rnn^**v V*?."^^ therefore have to more merit money " °* ^*oted more he must earn »v.r«g„ -hich most hst L iTSlU! ZJeto?/^ J The Way of All Flesh ,85 0* other bo^nSS wet^l^i", *'""i' *« »»™« «*• nwney, he eot a littl*. iiXo^-K* o^? "® ^^^ "o more as he coijI il h^s wav to rj;*"-^ ^'if" " '^ i" debt luxuries. ImmedStelv Yp to repaying, he went without W» debts; tf?hSewL^fL!!!;^,,"'°"'j; ^"^ ^°"ld pay there was not--SSd tfSe^^nZ" ^* ^i?"^^ *P«"d it Hf «o on tick ^ihT '*°'" "^^^-^^ ^ould begin to he'SoSd"^ ^cteh^ T".*^? »"PP«i«o" that which he c^ed^y ^^^^l ^%£^ « his pocket-of would be five shi&fo?tun5rSU*Tl^ There when these w^S 4e^^U^^^ given to each boy fe ^ L „ .„•? *"°^^« of sixpence He was resolved diouldci^ to JlSST'^ ^V^^ ^ ^^^ schS^'e'^of Sit"'ffisT ^?l,^t^"» to my hero's clearly tStT^bdd^dlJ! ^^if ^ «°ofions so the t^^t on^ M.d Mt^^'^J^*^^'^ " to learn fal^ood "before h^if^edU "^^^ i^^l^^ ^y» °« noSong in comii ou?^m J« ,P« melancholy fact was addedXbt to tt2^ic«; SL^* f^l "^"^^^ E™est the room ™1o noT^'so^^n'^f S^ his mother, who was in another." ° "'"**"*'<>« you woond him with coStr^tlllXiT'iI"'*,"''** "» Ernest to do? How « TO Lross, a good old soul, who used to seU hot rolls 1 86 The Way of All Flesh «t 1^^ '"J'™ t:,?™? '■" "'^ "• '»*" «!«• Ws Hack. No genuine hero of romance should have fii^i+.f^^ /« from any word of theirs. But E^^TI ^rt?^..Tr»°« from anf word of thri« S;ri?°" ?^^ '^^^ *^ ^^ papa's conscience " jabbered " a ModHLiK«?3T^* . I The Way of All Flesh ,87 , they might rescue lAri? ^5 °?* wythin., for though iniquity with^get^^^ t7?„n^^"** ^7k"* ^ ^tbtdlt P«ent. were thS^Tol otiSr n.'^T **?" ^^^^^ ^«^ ** darlings whom aSo ^X w«r? iSI£5 ^^ mtumnm with y«t pSssible? V^t Svr%hi?""'*i? '^^« " it ^«" haroCTas well as Ern«??' ' ""^^ °~°«y *<> «»es« the S"i„"g^;*^^^,^^?^^^^^^ show of resistance, but himself to the powers tSt ^i H^tiM "l^ •J^'nitted than he knew or ihowXv^:J^%}°^^ """^^ * "**i« i«» «anuned. cross-exaS sS^t ^ JJ! "^.f ' **^."'**' '- own bedroom and cr^Mamfi J , • retirement of his Mrs Tones' kitr w. «^i ^""*^° ^^^ 5 the smoldnir in how much Md wS« . ^ff.u'^^ °*°"*y ^^' roughly. ijoguage. StbSr^as'SSv^tliTSin^ "^^ should, &8 he called it take Wm ^^♦Irt- this tune Ernest out reserve, so ttelchool list Si?*'' ^ confidence with- half.yearly'wL WM b^S oiS LTJk* "^^ P' S^*'* racter of Jach hoy^^lll^^i the most secret cha- M« PontifoTsXlTit^SSS teL^"'^ ^^y M' »«<» formation coici^Stefit wd vft^A'^^'I^J^^^^^- Feccding SundSl?eaSe?f liL T^^^^ld had on the «w«only preaScd^n th Jr ^'*"*. 'f"^^" *han he No mattir Eo^^i'^°tS j^^^" °^ the Inquisition, the pair never ffinXTh.^l^^'^^^y "healed to them, were^ttVS)ta?^^.v* ^""5^ "*** P^bed. till thej^ they 1^ At^uche^,'^^ '^^^^l "^^'^ delicate thai self toTtff^n^^^^ ^°;,.?"* ^.™«*'« unconsd^ consdous^^Ss^wS S, 1* ^ ;;^?»stance to which his in a fit of faSiS;^ ^^' ^y *^^^ him off hi3 chair -taJal^t'f^^L^SSr^LSLTt^e*^ 1 88 The Way of All Flesh Sw 5. ^«;«^nnwillingly compcUed to be content with what they had got aheady-being frightened intoJeaSS him a quiet hfe for the short raiainder of the hS^ 2J7 ^«^« not idle but Satan can find as mudi mSi for Busy hands as for idle ones, so he sent a httlel^hi the (hrection of Battersby which Theobald and Chfbtin^ "»d«[t«^e apparent mat somethmg had gone wrong. Dr Skinner caSS^Se ^^d^' ^^^^ much?Smp excommSuSiJ^d ]£l JS^rth'^ '°'"''^- The\ic«T^ PV^i^ents inSctSi ^' SsilS7S2"^ P^«' ^ldnS«1id cS him uncommonly short, and had then and there vkSm^l suavity tiian was usual with him, commktS k to Se flames before Theobald's own eyes. "^^^ " *<> ^e Ernest got off with the head boys easier than he exut^t^ It w^admitted that the offenc^ K^^hlT^' had been committed under extenuating SSfaui^; The Way of AU Flesh 19, tte fraoknes. with which the culprit had confoud .II hi. mdently unfeigned remorae, aid tto fc^lrfS whw? ^«^ • "k-*? P"""^ ^ traded toK atoiri Sd^r^rL^^rtht^-iHiL m tte matter of fireworks and Guy FawS^ WhS^ ♦wi. 1- J ingntened almost out of his wits wl t^ was verv valiant «ii ♦v.i .• ^* ^*^ ^'^ others and j^ ibSLttt ta^;"ss hrfrattTSis* "IS* Itw...p<.orthing«„^.„^':?,^^.^^^^. 192 The Way of All Flesh mi Si? 5** «l>™tei.ed it The Rev. TheoWd Pontifoc I^f ^ t! ^^ ""P^ecedented way in whichhe w^bdS^ ^^hJL}^ protection and reminded him how Se S^« ^MowlS"Jvt.^ilrT.¥.^««*«?''le to bin. to -x 1 J "" during uic juoiner uross row" as it woa i««„ StT ^L-^'f^^..''^^^^^^^^ *l«^ errands fw ^ "ys ^ Wto Irr ^5' ^^"^ ho^Tthe < I F t h OJ e: w ea »y ex flu St wr da,] nei do not fal ovei The Way of AH Flesh *93 CHAPTER XLIV P" XZ: Zt% T^^ -^^ «y hero's school form, and for W S^ ^^'' *°*° *he DcSoTs f^^^'^^^prl^tol^tbZ^t^ or so of his ^%'^ half of the£ X S3 Me^dVSr^L.'^ ^*° «»« "PP^ pve him up as a boy Aom h^Ln^? *^ ^^^ ratW for he rarely made l^cn^*t ^^ ^t^^* ^eave to himself exercises or not. prX^'^^^!' *^i^' 5^ *° *«»dS conscious obstinacy had S t^f Ji?if *** ^^ ^^^it, un- few bold sallies in the fiU?; * ejected more even than « the end of hif c^e^'^^^p^ST-JT!? have d^'^'^To had been at the berini^SS "^ ^*''" was what it °V^ Ir ^^"*^^cK.wffi S"r? *^« "PPer part ratho- than among thelw SaS^f 1'^°'^ °' juniols-. Only once in the whole ^^^*u? ^^ °»o« respectable praise fix>m Dr Skiver fnrJ^ "*' ^ ^^^1 We dS^eS *«asured as^e^ZJ^^^y /^^<^, and this he £2 he has ever seen H/^?Vf «^"<*«d approval whSh - "^e dc^fthf Lfer^^i^cS^y o]^^^ «^vely bak-/°,a^ SSf ^'JlJ-f— wSSt ^^ symptoms of improvment^ F^**^^™ ^»e faint exercise was anv betferTKo ,'?®®* says that if tS» fluke, for he faL«*tha?^S T^ '* «^t fctvebeen^b?? St Bernard ^A^rlt^ ^^^^^ ^k«d dogs, S^rSuS Writing AlcaiS^fnSf^^"^"^ *° *^« ^^iS^^iJ day,^thlrh'«^f^Sg^/^,';^he ^^ me but the other never once got the bS mJif?'^* "I*" "»<«'«• havS do U I had^t Ue^X^^" " ««^ than iSf 194 The Way of All Flesh have acquiesced in the swindle, and might have written as food a copy of Alcaics about the dogs of the monks of t Bernard as my neighbours, and yet I don't know, for I remember there was another boy, who sent in a Latin copy of some sort, but for his own pleasure he wrote the followmg — The d<^ of the monks of St Bernard go To pick little children out of the snow. And around their necks ia the cordial gin Tied with a little bit of bob-bin. I should like to have written that, and I did trv. but I couldn't. I didn't quite Uke the last line, and tried to mend it, but I couldn't." I fancied I could see traces of bitterness against the mstructors of his youth in Ernest's manner, and said something to this effect. c* "a^^ °°''I ^^ ^^^^ ^^ laughing, " no more than St Anthony felt towards the devils who had tempted him when he niet some of them casually a hundred or a couple of hundred years afterwards. Of course he knew they were de^ok, but that was aU right enough ; there must be devils. St Anthony probably Uked these devik better than most others, and for old acquaintance sake showed ./^^.?"^^ indulgence as was compatible with decorum Besides, you know," he added, " St Anthony tempted the devils qmte a«; much as they tempted hun ; for his pecuhar sanctity was a greater temptation to tempt him tiian they could stand. Strictly speaking, itlna the de^^ who were the more to be pitied, for they were led up by St Antlwny to be tempted and feU. whereas St Anthony rir °M ^!^' ^ J^®""® ^ ^^ * disagreeable and unin- tdhgible boy, and if ever I meet Skinner there is no one v^OTi I would shake hands with, or do a good turn to more At home things went on rather better ; the Ellen and Mother Cross rows sank slowly down upon the horizon, and even at home he had quieter times now that he had become a praspostor. Nevertheless the watchful eye and protecting hand were still ever over him to guard his The Way of All Flesh 19S comings in and his goings out, and to spy out all his ways. Is it wonderful that the boy, though always trying to keep up appearances as though he were cheerful and contented— and at tunes actually beine so— wore often an anxious, jaded look when he thought none were lookmg, which told of an almost incessant conflict within ? DoubUess Theobald saw these looks and knew how to interpret them, but it was his profession to know how to shut his eyes to things that were inconvement— no clergy- man could keep his benefice for a month if he could not do this ; besides he had aUowed himself for so many years to say things he ought not to have said, and not Jo say the things he ought to have said, that he was Uttle hkely to see anyittiing that he thought it more convenient not to see unless he was made to do so. It was not much that was wanted. To make no mystenes where Nature has made none, to bring his consarace under something Uke reasonable control, to give Ernest his head a Uttle more, to ask fewer questions, and to give hun pocket money with a desire that it should be spent upon menus ^ '^aoi that not much indeed," laughed Ernest, as I read him what I have just written. " Why it is the whole duty of a father, but it is the mystery-making which is the worst evil. If people would dare to speak to one another un- reservedly, there would be a good deal less sorrow m tne world a hundred years hence." , ^ .t.^ ^,„ ^t To return, however, to Roughborough. On the day ot his leavmg, when he was sent for into the library to De shaken hands with, he was surprised to f^ that, though assuredly glad to leave, he did not do so with any ^pccisa grudge against the Doctor rankling in his breast, "e »*ad ?om?to the end of it all, and was still aUve, nor, take it aU round, more seriously amiss than other pirople. Ut Skinner received him graciously, and was even frohraomc after his own heavy fashion. Young people are almost always placable, and Ernest felt as he went a^y that anoiSer such interview would not only have wiped ofi ^ old scores, but have brought him round mto the ranks of the Doctor's admirers and supporters— among whom it 196 The Way of All Flesh it only fair to say that the greater number of the mora promising boys were found. . « x i. Just tefore saying good-bye the Doctor actually took down a volume from those Advcs which had seemed so awful six years previously, and gave it to him after having written his name in it, and the words ^iXA»« Kai «wo&»« vroachfully, half merrily, as thinking how little all that had happened to him really mattered, and how small were his hiaurdships as compared with those of most people. Still looking into the eye of the son and smUing dreamily, he thought how he had helped to bum his father in effigy, and his look grew merrier, till at last he broke out into a laugh. Exactly at this moment the light veU of doud parted from the sun, and he was brou^t to terra firtna by the breaking forth of the sunshine. On this he became. aware that he was being watched attentively by a fellow-travdler opposite to him, an elderly gentleman with a large head and iron-grey hair. "My young friend," said he, good-naturedly, "you really must not carry on conversations with people in the sun, while you are in a public railway carriage." The old gentleman said not another word, but unfolded his Times and began to read it. As for Ernest, he blushed crimson. The pair did not speak during the rest of the time they wore in the carriage, but they eyed each other 198 The Way of All Flesh from time to time, lo that the face of each wu imprm ie il on the recdlection of the other. 11 11 CHAPTER XLV SoiiB people say that their school days were the happiest of their fives. They may be right, but I always look with suspicion upon those whom I near saying this. It is hard enough to know whether one is happy or unhappy now, and stUl harder to compare the relative happiness or un- happiness of different times of one's life ; the utmost that can be said is that we are ftdrly happy so long as we are not distinctly aware of being miserable. As I was talking with Ernest one day not so long since about this, he said he was so happy now that he was sure he had never been happier, and md not wish to be so, but that Cambridge was the first Elace where he had ever been consciously and continuously appy. How can any boy f aU to fed an ecstasy of pleasure on fint finding himself in rooms which he knows lot the next few years are to be his castle ? Here he will not be compelled to turn out of the most comfortable place as soon as he has ensconced himself in it because papa or mamma happens to come into the room, and he should give it up to them. The most cosy chair here is for himself, there is no one even to share the room with him, or to interfere with his doing as he likes in it— smoking included. Why, if such a room looked out both back and front on to a blank dead wall it woiild still be a paradise, how much more then when the view is of some quiet grassy court or cloister or garden, as from the windows of the greater number of rooms at Oxford and Cambridge. Theobald, as an old fellow and tutor of Emmanuel— at which college he had entered Ernest— was able to obtain from the mesent tutor a certain preference in the choice of rooms; Ernest's, therefore, were very pleasant ones, , The Way of All Flesh 199 looking out upon the gruty court that it bounded by the Fdlowe' gardens. Theobald accompanied him to Cambridge, and was at hit beet while doing 10. He liked the jaunt, and even he was not without a certain feelinc of pride in having a full- blown ion at the Univertity. Some of the reflected rays of this splendour were allowed to fall upon Ernest himsdf . Theobald said he was " willing to hope "—this was one of htt tags — that his son would turn over a new leaf now that he had left school, and for his own part he was " only too ready "—-this was another tag— to let by-gones be by- gones. Ernest, not yet having his name on the books, was able to dine with his father at the Fellows' table of one of the other colleges on the invitation of an old friend of Theo- badd's ; he there made acquaintance with sundry of the good things of this Ufe, the very names of which were new to him, and felt as he ate them that ht> was now indeed receiving a liberal education. When ^ length the time came for him to go to Emmanuel, w^ .re he was to sleep in his new rooms, his father came w.th him to the gates and saw him saie into college ; a few minutes more and he found himself alone in a room for which he had a latch-key. From this time he dated many days which, if not quite unclouded, were upon the whole very happy ones. I need not however describe them, as the life of a qmet steady-going undergraduate has been told in a score of noveb better '> than f can tdl it. Some of Ernest's schoolfellows came up ' to Cambridge at the same time as himself, and with these he continued on friendly terms during the whole of his college career. OUier schoolfellows were only a year or two ms seniors ; these called on him, and he thus made a sufficiently ^vourable entree into college Ufe. A straight- forwardness of character that was stamped upon his face, a love of humour, and a temper which was more easily appeased than ruffled made up for some awkwardness and want of savoir faire. He soon became a not unpopular member of the best set of his year, and though neither capable of becoming, nor aspiring to become, a leader, was 200 The Way of All Flesh Admitted by the letdat at among thtir nMurer haagw^ on. Of ambitiMi he had at that thne not one particle ; great- neN, or indeed saperiorltv of any kind, teemed to tar oA and incomprehennUe to nim that the idea of connecting it with himself never crossed hit mind. If he ooidd escape the notice of all thoie with whom he did not feel himself tn rmMort, he conceived that he had triumphed st^Bkiently. He did not care about taking a good degree, eiKept that it must be good enough to keep hii father and mother quiet. He did not dream of beinc able to get a fellowship ; il he had, he would have tried hard to do so, for he became so fond of Cambridge that he could not bear the thoudit of having to leave it ; the briefness indeed of the seasonlraring which his present happinesa was to last was almost Uie only thing that now seriously troubled him. Having less to attend to in the matter of growing, and having got his head more free, he took to reading ftdrly weQ — ^not because he liked it, but because he was told hie ought to do so, and his natural instinct, like that of all very rmg men who are good for anything, was to do as those authority tdd him. The intention at Battersby was (for Dr Skinner had said that Ernest could never get a fellowship) that he should take a sufficiently good de^^ to be able to get a tutorship or mastership m some school preparator^to taking orders. When he was twenty><»ie years old ms money was to come into his own hancb, and the best thing he could do with it would be to buy the next pesoitaticMi to a living, the rector of which was now old, and live an his mastership or tutorship tiU the living fdl in. He could buy a very good living for the sum which his grandfather's l^ary now amounted to, lac T^MBobald had never had any serious intention of making deductnns for his son's maintenance and education, and the money haul aecumulated till it was now about five thousand pounds ; he had only talked about making deductions in onter tr stimulate the boy to exertion as far as possible, by nuddn him think that this was his only chance of escaping starva^ tion— or perhaps from pure love of teasing. When Ernest had a living of £600 or £700 a year with The Way of All Flesh 201 a hoiMt, and not too Bumy ptrithk»ief*--why, ha might add to hia income by taking pnpila, or even Iceeiring a ichool, and then, tay at thirty, he mi^^t marry. It wu not eaur lor Theobald to hit on any much more lensible plan. Im could not get Ernest into butineas, for he had no butineia connectiona— betides he did not know what butinesa meant ; he had no Interest, again, at the Bar ; medidne was a profession which subjected its students to ordeala and temptations which these fond parents shrank from on behalf of their boy ; he would be thrown among com- panions and familiarised with details which might suDv nim, and though he might stand, it was " only too possible ' that he would fall. Besides, ordination was the road which Theobald knew and imderstood, and indeed the only road about which he knew anything at all, so not unnaturally it was the one he chose for Ernest. The for^eoing had been instilled into my hoo from earliest boyhood, much as it had been instilled into Theo> bald himsdf, and with the same .. 'h — the convictioa, namely, that he was certainly to be a lergyman, but that it was a long way off yet, and he supposed it w\b all right. As for the duty of reading hard, and taking as good a degree as he could, this was plain enough, so he set himself to work, as I have said, steadily, and to the surjoise of everyone as well as himself got a college scholarship, of no great value, but still a scholarship, in nis freshman s term. It is hardly necessary to say that Theobald stuck to the whole of tms money, believing the pocket'money he allowed Ernest to be sufficient for him, and knowing how dangerow it was for young men to have money at ccHnmand. I do not suppose it even occurred to him to try and remember what he had fdt when his father took a like course in regard to himself. Ernest's position in this respect was much what it had been at school except that thmgs were on a larger scale. His tutor's and cook's bills were paid for him ; his father sent him his wine ; over and above this he had £50 a year with which to keep himself in clothes and all other eiqpenses ; this was about the usual thing at Emmanuel in Ernest's day, though many had much less than this. Ernest did as 202 The Way of All Flesh KaiS^^ ^xJ^°^?y L ^® *^«° incurred a few modest k!^ 5*:*°^ then hved penuriously tiU next tenn, when he would immediately pay his debts, and start newones to much the same extent as those which he had just got rid «K-- * S ^® ^^ ""1° ^ =^5000 and became independent ,^lr!u . ®^' ^^^ °^.^^° ^^^^ *o cover the whofeof his unauthorised expenditure. He joined the boat club, and was constant in his attend- ^ce at tile boats. He still smoked, but never took more wme or beer than was good for him, except perhaps on tiie occasion of a boating supper, but even tiien he found tiie coMcquences unpleasant, and soon learned how to keep ^^11^1^**- ^® attended chapel as often as he waS compeUed to do so ; he communicated two or tiiree times a ye^ because his tutor told him he ought to ; in fact ha instincts prbmpted him to do, and when heM-«s WHO that is bom of woman can help sometimes doine ?— It was not till after a sharp tussle witii a tempta^Wt was more tiian his flesh and blood could stand : tiien he was very pemtent and would go a fairly long while witiiout amungagam; and tiiis was how it had always been witii him smce he had arrived at years of indiscretion, tven to the end of his career at Cambridge he was not ^n ^^%i^^^ in hun to do anytiiing,lt othm ^d begun to see tiiat he was not wanting in abiUty and some- times toid him so. He did not beUeve it ; indeed he knew ^wdl that if tiiey thought him clever* tiiey weTl^ ^^?i ^"*.>* Pje^d hun to have been able to take SS SL?loV *T»? ^ ?° ^ !*^ ^'^e*" ' ^e was tiierefore a good deal on tiie look-out for cants tiiat he could catch and applv m season, and might have done himself some mis- chief tiius If he had not been ready to tiirow over any cant ^n!^° ? *'^^ ^'""'^ *'=''°^ ^"o*^"' °»o« nearly to his fancy ; his fnends used to say tiiat when he rose he flew hke a «"Pe, dartmg several times in various directions before he settled down to a steady straight flidit, but when he had once got into tiiis he would keep to it V. The Way of All Flesh 203 CHAPTER XLVI When he was in his third year a magazine was founded at Camhridge, the contributions to which were exclusively by undergraduates. Ernest sent in an essay upon the Greek Drama, which he has declined to let me reproduce here without his bdng allowed to re-edit it. I have there- fore been unable to give it in its original form, but when pruned of its redundancies (and this is all that has been done to it) it runs as follows — " I shall not attempt withhi the limits at my di^>osal to make a rSsumd of the rise and progress of the Greek drama, but will confine myself to considering whether the reputation enjoyed by the three chief Greek tragedians, £schylus, Sophocles and Euripides, is one that will be permanent, or whether they will one day be held to have " Why, I ask myself, do I see much that I can easily admire in Homer, Thucydides, Herodotus, Demosthenes, Aristophanes, Theocritus, parts of Lucretius, Horace's satires and epistles, to say nothing of other ancient vrriters, and yet find myself at once repelled by even those works of iGschylus, Sophocles and Euripides which are most gener- ally a^nired. " With the first-named writers I am in the hands of men who fed, if not as I do, still as I can understand their feeling, and as I am mterested to see that they should have fdt ; with the second I have so little sympathy that I cannot understand how anyone can ever have taken any intexest in them whatever. Their highest flights to me are dull, pompous and artificial productions, which, if they were to appear now for Uie first time, would, I should think, either fall dead or be severely handled by the critics. I wish to know whether it is I who am in fault in this matter, or whether part of the blame may not rest with the tragedisms themselves. " How far I wonder did the Athenians genmndy like 1 J ■ 204 The Way of All Flesh th«e poets, and how far was the applause mhich was lavished upon them due to fashion or affectation ? How far, in fact, did admiration for the orthodox tragedians take that place among the Athenians which going to church does among ourselves ? *' This is a venturesome question considering the verdict now generally given for over two thousand yeais, nor diould I have permitted myself to ask it if it had not been suggested to me by one whose reputation stands as high, and has been sanctioned for as long time as those of the tragedians themselves, I mean by Aristophanes. "Numbers, weight of authority, and time, have con- spured to place Aristophanes on as high a Uterary pinnacle as any ancient writer, with the exception perhaps ofHomer, but he makes no secret of heartily hating Euripides and Sophocles, and I strongly suspect only Draises iEschylus ttiat he mav rup down the other two with greater impunity. For after all there is no such difference between ^schylus and his successors as will render the former very good and the latter very bad ; and the thrusts at ^Ischylus which Aristophanes puts into the mouth of Euripides go home too well to have been written by an admirer. "It may be observed that while Euripides accuses ^schylus of being ' pomp-bundle-worded,' which I suppose means bombastic and given to rodomontade, ^s^ylus retorts on Euripides that he is a ' gossip gleaner, a describer of bM;gars, and a rag-stitcher,' from which it may be in- fared that he was truer to the life of his own times than ^schylus was. It happens, however, that a faithful rendering of contemporary life is the very quality which gives its most permanent interest to any work of fiction, whether in Uterature or painting, and it is a not unnituraJ consequence that while only seven plays by ^schylus, and the same number by Sophocles, have come down to us, we have no fewer than nineteen by Euripides. " This, however, is a digression ; the question before us is whether Aristophanes really Uked iEschylus or only pre- tended to do so. It must be remembered that the claims of iEschylus, Sophocles and Euripides, to the foremost |dace amongst tragedians were held to be as inomtiover- ■* » i The Way of All Flesh 205 tJble as those of Dante, Petrarch, Tasso and Ariosto to be the greatest of Italian poets, are held among the Italians of to-day. If we can fancy some witty, genial writer, we will say in Florence, finding himself bored by all the poets I have named, we can yet believe he would be unwilling to admit that he disliked them without exception. He would prefer to think he could see something at any rate in Dante, whom he could idealise more easily, inasmuch as he was more remote ; in order to carry his countrymen the farther with him, he would endeavour to meet them more than was consistent with his own instincts. Without some such palliation as admiration for one, at any rate, of the tragedians, it would be almost as dangerous for Aristo- phanes to attack them as it would be for an Engli^inan now to say that he did not think very much of the Ehza- bethan dramatists. Yet which of us in his heart likes wiy of the Elizabethan iramatists except Shakespeare ? Are they in reality anything else than literary Struldbrugs ? " I conclude upon the whole that Aristophanes did not like any of the tragedians ; yet no one will deny that this keen, witty, outspoken writer was as good a judge of literary value, and as able to see any beauties that the tragic dramas contained as nine-tenths, at any rate, of ouisdves. He had, moreover, the advantage of thoroughly understanding the standpoint from which the tragedians expected their work to be judged, and what was his con- d^on ? Briefly it was Uttle dse than this, that they were a fraud or something very like it. For my own part I cordially agree with him. I am free to confess that with the exception perhaps of some of the Psalms of David I know no writings which seem so Uttle to deserve thar reputation. I do not know that I should particularly nmid my sisters reading them, but I will take good care rxtv&c to read them myself." This last bit about the Psalms was awful, and there was a r great fight with the editor as to whether or no it should be allowed to stand Ernest himself was frightened at it, but he had once heard someone say that the Psalms were many of them very poor, and on looking at them more m rmm» WR" 206 The Way of AH Flesh ?^^' *S*.^® ^^ *>«en told this, he found that fhmrm could hardly be two opinions on the ia^ect LVJSZ ^lidaf^ii^'^^.P"^^*"^ "**^«'^ been written iS D^Jjd at aU, but had got In among the others by mistake. The essay ^rhaps on account of the passage aboutthe ^^^crcated quite a sensation, and on S^ole ™ wd^ d^^^ J?r* * fnends praised it more highly thaait deserved, and he was hmiself very proud of it but he ^«3 not show tat Battersby. Helm^walsothathe™no^ the end of his tether ; this was his one idea (I f^sm-The £? hfH"*^*.'°°'!v*^ *^^ «^ i* fro°» other pe<^pleraSdSow ^dhhS'J^t^V "^ "Potation which seemed to to ?e^ te^ '^T^f' "^ * consciousness that he couS «!I!L ? " "P- ^^0^® ™^y <^ays were over he felt his S^ffSlT^ *? be.a whitJ ele^t to h^ Ci^h iS S^U^-,?^ JT"^ ""^^ ^.^"^ °^ ^^tic attempts to Glided °«^oSlt5*^^/^^* ^^^^ ^^tod and listened and ?n^ ' another idea of some kind would probably occur to hnn some day. and that the development of tWi^Sw m Its turn suggest still further ones. He did not wt toow that the very worst way of getting hold of ideL S to ^ SS^ '^?l?*^y t^tor them! Thf way to ^t Sm fa to stody something of which one b fond.^and to note^d^^ whatever crosses one's mind in referenci to it S^r dn^ rtudy or relaxation, in a Uttle note^k kiSllJea^ tte waistcoat pocket. Ernest has comTto Sw^toS this now. but it took him a long time to fod^t out^ ^^^ "^^ '' *^ *^*^ tauj^t at'schc^^^'aSd be,^^ V^^ ^^ ^°r *^* '^^'^' '^o less than the living b«ngs in whose minds tjey arise, must be begotten^ S«« K */t^,,S^i'* themselves, the most orLnd sS to^ lif^^^J ^T *^^ P^'^*^ «^^t have^ven Se to them. Life IS hke a fugue, everything must grSw out of the subject and there must be notnmTnew ^7 ^n did he see how hard it is to say wheil ^.Tid^^^cffl The Way of All Flesh 207 Jiwthar begins, nor yet how closely this is paralleled in the difficulty of saymg where a life begins or ends, or an Stten mJSJ^H^ "'^^"^' ^i^^^e being an unity in spite oTiSte S?.SL*^;.^*?^^ '"^*® multitude in spite of unity. He thought that Ideas came into clever people's headi by a SLIw'T*??^^"^ germination, without parentage in the thoughts of others or the course of observation ; for as yet he believed m genius, of which he weU knew that he fcid none If it was the fine frenzied thing he thought it was. b«S h JhTI; ^°!? J\^?" *^ H^^ ^^'"^ °' ^e. and Theo. bald had handed him over his money. wWch amounted now to ;f5ooo ; it was invested to briAg in A wr^nt and gave him therefore an income of £2^ l^y^. "nl d^d not. however, realise the fact (he cofid realiie nothing ^fW JSf ^^' expenence) that he was independent of wl an^H-^ ^ ^°"^ *i^^ afterwards ; nor did iSobald make I "»y,^,^«rencein his manner towards him. So strong was I ) !^ ^^ which habit and association held over both father '* ' ^t , *' ,V»fV^® °5® considered he had as good a right as ever to dictate, and the other that he had as Uttle liifM as ever to gainsay. ^ During his last year at Cambridge he overworked himself through this very blind deference to his father's .^^for there was no reason why he should take more than a'poU takmg honours. He became so iU, indeed, that it was f? «^^"l^?^ '" ^ ^^"^*^ ^ *We to goTforlS. 6^ at all ; but he managed to do so. and when the list^e ^21 ^^^J^ t!^ ^^^ ^**«' *^ ^^^^ he or an^ ^expected, bemg among the first three or four s4ior ^P^es and a few weeks later, in the lower half of the ^?o„5^°^ the Clasacal Tripos. Ill as he was when he S J^^;J^^*'^*l"'^? ^ ^^ °^«^ ^ «»e examination were with hun. and in fact reproduce as nearly as possible the rephes that he had sent in. So UtUe kick hadS S that white at h.me he spent several houre a day in con- bnmn| his classical and mathematical studies aa thoueh he had not yet taken his degree. ^ ■ •■ •■ Tnii-ifTiVirlSHI 2o8 The Way of All Flesh , I i i CHAPTER XLVII »bont C^tiSS. S'tS^n^* had been tow him nimd as to the historiSTSLSer^ ?<»picion in hii in the Old Md New xit^to "' "" '"™*' ™»«" book published^ S^*t^f 5 *^'"« ^^ not a single within the ^m of?h.^h^'{f^^"°"««>°»°»o^ " History of Satit ^^Ld mt" nS5?^> ^"*^^'* most alanning, but Sev nd^rn? ?», ^^^? 1 ^«"» *^ •tratum of tS reading n.?S- J S^®°* reached the sub. were i«noJaS%T^ ^v^^^^^^^^-^^ was stiU iX^bv^i?? '?«*'*» te"o« ; Ritualism years since; Dissent^ not^rS.^JLl?^'^ *»»« was the one engrossing subiSST^ tlie Cnmean war Indian Mutiny Mdtt«Fr^2f a' ^- ^ ^o^owed by the events tumed^iSStt's^S^^iSS"? r^- I^Wt ninT^ tS^rtury^SSld^P^^^i-^^I^. The Way of All Flesh 209 to do, moit ha "SrtSt«S^1f^*""«*«"BMy own •botes, nor wu if !«»■ ili r. . . "t""? towards our quick a^eCTaSrSS S^*".^"™ *^ '"■Ski lj»if iflSltJ^fcS ir * T^«^ «» "» on. the time finest wiTitrZk 5 ^d any We in it during |»-tio„ earBe. whilh^^^ ^3^^^ nSS„? college conSS S of & but^i ' !f^ ^'^ were at Cains. whitheTttoy^^'aS^SfL^t?^"}'''*"' imdeigraduates. who werTSlLtS^^^^' by the poorest "^otatfaps to tte ^^f ;.1?" "g?^ sianhip. u>d ^^Xd-^%^'.^SSr> ^ passage which led to it ^ through the sinuous 5^t^^^sst*„^»hTL5'^t^u'r -r c«^wiUtherthey':S?:'^S'rftjryte^;^ 2IO The Way of AH Flesh showed at cricket or the boat* ; they were a gloomy. Mt&y» looking confrMe, who had as little to glory in in clothes and manners as in the flesh itself. Ernest and his friends used to consider themsdves mar- vels of economy for getting on with so little money, but the greater number of dwellers in the labyrinth would have considered one-half of their expenditure to be an ex- ceeding measure of aiSluence, and so doubtless any domestic tyranny which had been experienced by Ernest was a small tmng to what the average Johnian sizar had had to put up with. A few would at once emerge on its being found after their first examination that they were likely to be ornaments to the college ; these would win valuable scholarships that enabled them to live in some degree of comfort, and would amalgamate with the more studious of those who were in a better social position, but even these, with few excepticms, were long in sha^g off the uncouthness they brought with them to the University, nor would their origin cease to be easily recognisable till they had become dons and tutors. I have seen some of these men attain high position in tha world of politics or science, and yet still retain a look ol labyrinth and Johnian sizaiship. Unprepossessing then, in feature, gait and manners, un- kempt and ill-dressed beyond what can be easily described, these poor fellows formed a class apart, whose thoughts and ways were not as the thoughts and ways of Ernest and his friends, and it was among them that Simeonism chiefly flourished. Destined most of them for the Church (for in those days " holy orders " were seldom heard of), the Simeonites held tlwmselves to have received a very loud call to the ministry, and were ready to pinch themselves for years so as to pre- pare for it by the necessary theological courses. To most of them the fact of becoming clergymen would be the enir^ into a social position from which they were at present kept out by bsuriers they well knew to be impassable ; ordina- tion, therefore, opened fields for ambition which macte it the central point in their thoughts, rather than as with Ernest, something which he supposed wouid have to be The Way of AU Flesh 21, under the guidance of a fM.SS^" '?*?^ themselves te«h in SiSdw&hMh tL^ ■•'"?*? '."'•"' "»y would threw them into tLcomo^v of o^^^ " <=hanc« worldly, caused noth^nTEKeCn"^^^^^ for whom they were mt^nrWi ^ the minds of those tracts, dropping thSifavnlohf^'* ^^i" ^^^^ distributed whUetheyPP^f X thefr^^^^^^^^^^^ even wori contSv • tSv utrl ♦f * ^"f"*' ^'' "»«* ^tJ» with the ridiculeTwch'thev rpflS* themsdyes also treated lot of true fXwTra of PhHcf ^^*®,? P'"^"^^ *»ad been the which he bidsSs Corint£^^.2l */*"^ "^^^"<*d ^ ^ selves that thev «^re fnr^h^ ^^ ^'^^^ ^°*=«™ing them- nor inteltoual S/ ^ ""^l P*^ "^*^r wlu-bred theyt^STotES^tobe&'f/^^^K^^^ P"^ «^t be^^ut^iroJ^iTd^^Ct oTSS *^"»H*^ butL coKrSri^*S^^'s w; .^ ^^^ *^^' one occasion he had^TS^Tar J f J ^? ^°°*- ^n tracts they had sent rS Z\Z • u. P"^**^ °°« ^^ «»e dropped intol^S of ?£ri"^-^^ ??^^*' ^d to get a copy sub[Sl^^d^2^en^^p^„^une^^^ ^l liness. he said wl^ 26^?^ n F^^"^ Cleanliness." Clean- on wbch ^it^ ?o linS^^ • ^^shed to know Simec utes to a frSr^ of «!;^, ?"' "*^ ^^^ ^^^o^ing my hero's hun2.w^ SL ia^r • h« * '^^'^^ '°°^«°^ "*** matter ; his tract was not bril- 212 The Way of All Flesh UMBt, but I mention the fact as showing that at this til ne was something of a Saul and took pleasure in persecuti the elect, not, as I have said, that he had any hankeri # ;? ,"**P*ic»n»' but because, like the fanners in 1 father s village, though he would not stand seeing t Christian religion made light of. he was not goiMtosee Uken senoudy. Ernest's friends thought EisiSslike 1 S^eonites was due to his being the son of a deigymi who. It was known, bullied him; it is more likely, hSd andfh^ti^? '^^ ^° P'^*^d fied that they had donr* hpir? * /. however, were satis- eyes to tiie d&^ul "f ^^^X^f^^r^ *^^ *>°^ Msent to. This wwlnoiX^S *^^ a clergyman must that, though tiiey had bSfn n, ♦ ^^ »„matter for rejoicing fore him Je (Ud Jot feidtii^n*? fuUy a„d candidly^ that tiiey had mwd for ^!^ '*"°'"- ^* ^^ °ot in vSi honest ^d cSStioS ^ ^^ ^'*" *° ^ "^^^e " ^r^ disp^»t?/d&;e'nrt^^Snf^^^ .after having Ernest's becomingTder™^ .??g^* ^V^^ «» the way^S on which I Si iSe Twe a^Sf S°*^^ «*«er about yom- sister Charlotte yL V^^^ ,y°"- ^t is and what a dear, k^ Ster I« h.^?!*'^'^.^^^^^ »he is. be to youreclf and J^y I ^«J ^ ^" ^^ *I^ys wiU I saw more chance iiZr fiL^' *">: Nearest Ernest, that do at Batte^y^'^d^^^.^g^f^tableh^^^^ more tiian you di to helplhS '^^ *^^ ^^^ °^ht do birsL^^tiS^l^^^^^^'^-^^hadhearditsooften. sist Jrhe^Ci;^s^Rt%^3^/ T ^^ f '""^ ^or his littte-ind^in haSt a mo h "^ "'^*^"" *^ •«« From time to time an actual live boy had been thm»» ^ ^•kS"**' ?y ^"« <*»?ht and broJrfTt toBitt«r or by being asked to meet Her if at ai«Mi me she ^ Xl Roughborough. She had generally^irLSdnS«! able, or fau-ly agreeable, as long as the bov WaTnrS^ her note. Into whatever form she might throw hwcriti io'^'^^^l^^y* ^" ^* «"d *° thisf that hTfrie^d WW ?K *2^' ^\* ^«*^ ^^ not much better, wd that S ^^Od have brought her someone else. for'thiTone^^L'^ The more intimate the boy had been or was snnnn.^ to be with Erneat the more h^ w,^ d^rS to be nffi^ tiU m the end he had hit upon the plan of wWnc Tn- ccmmg any boy whom he pSicularl? UkJd. Si wm not one of his especial chuSis. and that ind^c hJX ^n:!!^^i^\^ "^^ ^"^ • ^^^ he founHe 0,% TI on Scylla in trymg to avoid Charybdis, for though the boy was declared to be more successfiU it iSSTnSt ^ was naught for not thinking W>^X^?f «>t^ ^IJ^^. ''"'^* «c* ''"i^ o^ a name she never for- got It. And how is So-and-so ? " she would exclaim ^tjpmng some former friend of Ernest's ^1 wbThe had either now quarreUed. or who had long since proved • ^f ?"? *^™«* an "It^fcjy "tot I am not disaert^ahia o* -li v ^ J"*' snow him that old boy, i^feST'^^d Wc/^d t i^r i J°"y who is in fault all thro^h '' ' ^^^ ** *» ^^«* against Ernest. OicSm^ iT^^u^^ side with him comctoBattersbyhew^dhimT. M^^^* *^« ^y *<> therefore pleaseS ttat ^ra^Sb^shouH^°^J:^' ^"' ^*^ '^^ a^ tlie same time he stood Mm,tl?„ 15?'!''® ^ ^^U, but fnends go over to the ^X Sno Pn^' °^°,?miliar wcU we may know al^I u ^\ For no matter how certain pati TZoVt^'^Z^f'^^yj^. "^^^ "^ » andknobksusabout tofinrl J^«^^®' ^•^^' ^^ shakes us half inclined to STkas^eS"^'' "^ '*' °' '^ "'^'^ ^ befo^tht'^SolCS'bulS^iL^^^^^ ^ "J*^^ -P-ti-t the earlier part was IS one whTcrS^.^ ^"T^? *^™S away with him. Theo^d nev^^^Jii? ^j'*®'" ^*** *»»^«3 with Ernest. It wm f^H«« J dwcussed any of the boys letthemcome/llL^SeC&ai^\'„^^*^- •'^^ insisted on it • \^nTh^^r^^ "* ^ ^""^t, pcrsfetent wav 8aid.civSy. bitheL^o^iftl^^'t^" behaVeTas I CJ a:sby if she could half CWwd^.rS"aS3XltTat»'.. k- have managed it. and iUt wSl^^?. ^ '' '' *» «>»'<• money :~ffi BJted th^cm^^^}^^ '^* «> •°'«1' newacqajinUnee. inS^^S'^'^'^'"? ""J" • flmffing the bits over Ernt^itmTmJ^^ r^^^^^ Pieces and jj-gj-s WW over truest as soon as she had hid enough The Way of AU Flesh 217 e*te that they reany know the kind of ttend they w«nt- in coaracter. Ernest had been no exception to the ^mim^i rule. His swans had one after the othW^rov^ to iS^m^ or less geese even in his own estimation, Sd he wasbSJi imig ahnost to think that his moth^ wis a bett^1!iS5^; -««!J?^*.v ® H »^ot suspected Uut I^s friends wen. in !»,5 "^"^ ''°* ^ **^* **^«"« ^ any ddiberate maSce frier?. /^*? '^f^x** ^^ ^" ^«ss inclined to brinr^v SS ,?^^ to Battersby. It seemed to his si% foSJ ^ wW^n^^"''*,^ ^^ y°" friend to come^a^S Ser^f^ T*^ you reaUy meant was " Please, mam/SJ C sister. It was hke trying to obtain money undS^f^ »ces If he had been fond of Charlotte ft S h^ another matter, but he thought her one oftife m!I? d^e^Me young women in th^wh?^ SSe ^of L"^! She was supposed to be very clever. All young ladies ar«» citticr very pretty or very clever or very7>S^^SSf^?v take their choice as to which categoi^irtJiil ?oL^ but gomforoneof the three theymuS^^ It wSifXl^ oecame clever as the only remaining alternative fX.^ never knew what particular bS^stuS^t w^ in w?S! ^e diowed her talent, for she could ndSr pT^ S^S^ ^ni!^ l^y did persuade him into thinking S ^e Charlotte, had something more akin to true Ss than Sf« otiier member of the faSily. Not one howeS^o?t?i ^^ JSe''h:STh^™n*.^i' ^ invd^ed'^mTS^^fo t iSr r^ f??^ ^^'^ ^^* sign of being so for strudc wili Charlotte's commanding ^wers, wto wi^hto mUke H> '«; V 218 The Way of AH Flesh them his own, and this may have had something to do with the rapidity and completeness with which Chiistina had dianissed them one after another and had wanted a new one. And now she wanted Towneley. Ernest had seen this coming and had tried to avoid it, for he knew how im- possible it was for him to ask Towneley, even if he had wished to do so. Towneley belonged to one of the most exclusive sets in Cambridge, and was perhaps the most popular man among the whole number of undergraduates. He was big and very handsome — as it seemed to Ernest the handsomest man whom he ever had seen or ever could see, for it was im- possible to imagine a more lively and agreeable counten- ance. He was good at cricket and boating, very good- natured, singularly free from conceit, not clever but very sensible, and, lastly, his father and mother had been drowned by the overturning of a boat when he was only two years old and had left him as their only child and heir to one of the finest estates in the South of England. Fortune every now and then does things handsomely by a man all round ; Towneley was one of thr«e to whom she had taken a fancy, and the universal verdict in this case was that she had diosen wisely. Ernest had seen Towneley as every one else in the Univer- aty (except, of course, dons) had seen him, for he was a man of mark, and being very susceptible he had liked Towneley even more than most people did, but at the same time it never so much as entered his head that he should come to know him. He liked looking at him if he got a chance, and was very much ashamed of himself for doing so, but there the matter ended. By a strange accident, however, during Ernest's last year, when the names of the crews for the scratcl^ fours were drawn he had found himself coxswain of a crew, among whom was none othei than his especial hero Towneley ; the three others were ordinary mortals, but they could row fairly wdl, and the crew on the whole was rather a good one. Ernest was frightened out of his wits. When, however, The Way of All Flesh 319 the two met, he found Towndey no less remarkable lor his entire want of anything Uke " side," and for his power of setting those whom he cam across at their ease, than he was for outward accomplishments ; the only difference he found between Towndey and other people was that he was so very much easier to get on vdth. Of course Ernest worshipped him more and more. The scratch fours being ended the connection between the two came to an end, but Towndey never passed Ernest thenceforward without a nod and a few good-natured words. In an evil moment he had mentioned Towndey's name at Battersby, and now what was the result ? Here was his mother plaguing him to ask Towndey to come down to Battersby and marry Charlotte. Why, if he had thought there was the remotest chance of Towndey's marrymg Charlotte he would have gone down on his knees to him and told him what an odious young woman she was, and im- ^ored him to save himsdf while there was yet tinw. But Ernest had not prayed to be made " fndy honest and consdentious " for as many years as Cluistina had. He tried to conceal what he fdt and thought as well as he could, and led the conversation back to the difficulties which a dergyman might fed to stand in the way of his bdn^ or- dahied— not Ixicause he had any misgivings, but as a divw- sion. His mother, however, tiiought she had settled all that, and he got no more out of her. Soon afterwards^ he found the means of escaping, and was not slow to avail him- self of them. CHAPTER XLIX On his return to Cambridge in the May term of 1858, Ernest and a lew other friends who were also intended for orders came to the conclusion that they must now take a more serious view of their position. They therdore at- tended (^pd more regularly than hitherto, and held even- ing meetings of a somewhat furtive character, at whidi they 220 The Way of All Flesh would study the New Testament. Thev even h»^n f« .^p ^®y«^°*"PSe^eriuta- 322 The Way of AU Flesh Won for ability, or whether from the fact that each one of the Ernest set knew that he had been more or less a persecutor of the " Sims " and yet felt instinctively that the " Sims" were after all much more like the early Chiistians than he was hfanself— at any rate the text, familiar though it was, went home to the consciences of Ernest and his friends as it had never yet done. If Mi Hawke had stopped her« he would have pimost said enough ; as he scanned the faces turned towards him, and saw the impression he had made, hewas perhaps minded to bring his sermon to an end before be^nnmg it, but if so, he reconsidered himself and pro- ceeded as follows. I give the- sermon in full, for it is a typical one, and will explain a state of mind which in another generation or two will seem to stand sadly in need of explanation. " My young friends," said Mr Hawke, " I am persuaded mwe IS not one of you here who doubts the existence of a Personal God. If there were, it is to him assuredly that I should first address myself. Should I be mistaken in my bdief that all here assembled accept the existence of a God v^ iS present amongst us though we see him not, and whose eye is upon our most secret thoughts, let me implore the doubter to confer with me in private before we part ; I will then put before him considerations through which God has been mercifully pleased to reveal hin^f^f to me, so far as man can understand him, and which I have found bring peace to the minds of others who have doubted. ." I assume also that there is none who doubts but that this God, after whose likeness we have been made, did in the course of time have pity upon man's bKndness, and assimae our nature, taking flesh and coming down and dwelling among us as a man indistinguishable physically from ourselves. He who made the sun, moon and stars, the world and all that therein is, came down from Heaven in the person of his Son, with the express purpose of leading a scorned life, and dying the most cruel, shameful death which fiendi^ ingenuity has invented. " While on earth he worked many miracles. He gave Sight to the blind, raised the dead to life, fed thousf^ndt The Way of All Flesh 223 !l^^ WT2 *°^ ^^* *"^ "^^ »^ to walk upon the I^^'i?** ** ^^^^ «' "* appointed time he Sd, m S?*Sl55f5'2?""f^' HP?" t»»e cross* and was buried by" d^tiiS^ -^f"^- ^^^' *»°^^^' ^»»o had put him to ^ Tk '®^°"* ^**^^ o^®^ ^s tomb. F "*" w n«r*^^ *^ "° °"*' ^ !^ *"'®' »»» **»«» f oon» who doubts auv part of the foregoing, but if there is. let me again pray Sb to confer jnth nie in private, and I doubt not thit by^ WesMng of God his doubts wUl cease. ^ f«r«K S!j°'*t«*y ?"* ,°°® *^tor o :r Lord was buried, the tomb bang stiU lealoudy guarded by enemies, an angel wa^ seen descending from Heaven with glittering kimrat and a c^tejance that shone like fire. xkglS^SSled ♦h- Ji^.y^y^^.fP^?' tWs is no fanciful story like those of ^e ^cient deiba. but a matter of plain history as^ertaS ^that you and I are now here together. If there faoS S2«^«f .vouched for than another in the whole range of l^t^S" ** "^^1 Resurrection of Jesus Christ ; ^ it wom^;. "^ Lord was seen by many hundreds of men and wom« to nse amid a host of angels into the air upon a h»v«iward journey till the clouds covered him anicon! ceaJed him from the sight of men. hi^ hSi^ ^^u^^\ ^^ ^^ °^ ^^ statements has S^TS^S? .^®^® ^f ^^y "°^ ? Do we sec them or ^J^aJ^ ^^^r^ ^^y *^ able to hold what Uttie gound they made during the supineness of the last centaiy^ fc there one of your fathers or mothers or friends who^ S^tSSlJr?^^*^! \«»«[e a single teacher or pf^ mJ^o??** Umveraty who has not examined what thew ' men had to say. and found it naught ? Did you ever mS ^aiem or do you find any o! their bool^^JS^S restful attention of those competent to iud« conaaS^ mg^em? I think not; and iThink alsi^ S^ I^ JL^JSS:!'' ^^ ^'^y *^^« *"°k »^ck into th^ •^ from which they for a time emerged : it is becam^ •tethe most careful andpatient examiiSi bV^ii^ 224 The Way of All Flesh and most judicial minds of many countries, their aigumen were found so untenable that they themselves renouna them. They fled from the field routed, dinaajred. at suing for peace ; nor have they again come to the front i anv civilised country. ^' You know these things. Why, then, do I insist upc them ? My dear young friends, your own consciousne will have made the answer to each one of you already ; it because, though vou know so well that these things di verily and indeea happen, you know also that you hai not realised them to ' )ursielves as it was yoiu: duty to d nor heeded their momentous, awful import. " And now let me go further. You all know that you wj one day come to die, or if not to die — ^for there are m wanting signs which make me hope that the Lord may con again, whue some of us now present are alive — yet to t changed ; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead sha be nosed incorruptible, for this corruption must put on ii corruption, and this mortal put on munortality, and ^ saying shall be brought to pass that is written, ' Death : swallowed up in victory.' " Do you, or do vou not believe that you wHl one da stand before the Judgement Seat of Christ ? Do yorx, or d you not believe that you will have to give an account fc every idle word that you have ever spoken ? Do you, c do you not believe that you are called to Uve, not acc(ndin to the will of man, but according to the will of that Chri! who came down from Heaven out of love for you, wh suffered and died for you, who calls you to him, and yean towards you that you may take heed even in this jaat da — ^but who, if you heed not, will also one day iu(%e yen. and with whom there is no variableness nor shadow < turning ? " My dear young friends, strait is the gate, and narrow i the way whidi leadeth to Eternal Life, and few there b that find it. Few, few, few, for he who will not give up ALJ fen- Christ's sake, has given up nothing. " If you would live in the friend^iq) of this w(ffld, i indeed you are not prepared to give up everything yo most fondly cherish, should the Lord require it of yoi The Way of All Flesh 225 S^.i^^'i?* **" if^ 1' °^* ddiberatdy on one ride ti^ Spit upon him, bttflet him, crucify Urn an«w do inis world wlule it is still in your power to do so • the Pleasures of this brief Ufe may not be worth paW foj SS^i; JrA *^!i u*^^ *^*^' y°" ^ould Uve in the ^.?te f ^' ^5 ^.among the number of those for jSrii^f ^u""^ ^f^ in vain ; if, in a word, y^H^ue worid^^?^ r^'f*' *^*" «*^*^ "P *^^ friendship of tWs GStidMlmo'„*^/°" ""'* °^^" y^^ choice W^ uoa and Mammon, for you cannot serve Iwth. term mo„Tf® considwations before you, if so homely a Se^LfV P^^*»°«^' ^ a plain iatter of businL pere is nothing low or unworthy in this as somelflSw have pretended, for aU nature shov^^StSrfS^oU^ SS'sSSSt '° "^^^ ^ enlight'c;S''4w°ott own sdf-mterest ; never let anyone delude you here • itia 5i^Jitf1??r^i^V did Certain things^g^p^^irdiS S«? Sn, n ^ *^ty ^"^ ^PP^' » it reasonable to7uppS« that you wiU make yourselves and others more happiby one course of conduct or by another ? ^^^ ^ *hu ^ °?^ let me ask you what answer you have made to ttwques^on hitherto? Whose frienkip ha?^^2 g^ / If. knowng what you know, you have not wt begun to act according to the immensity of the fai "wled^e J^l^f yo". then he who buUds his Lusc^Ld kj^p his tewsure on the edge of a crater of molten lava ist W^ sensible pe«on in comparison with you^sdv« I sfJ^k as no figure of speech or bugbear ^th which to SLteS S^d.^^li'L^ unvanushSi unexaggeratS stalS^? ^ch wiU be no more disputed hylourselves thT by wi^ln^l?^' ^""7^^' "^1° "P t° ^ ^^ had spoken ca^^tJ^zp^-tLTo;^^^ 226 The Way of All Flesh fcmnd of aU who seek him, and from that fearful wrath God which lieth in wait for those who know not the tidn bdon^ling to their peace. For the Son of Man omieth ai thief m mt night, and there is not one of ns can tell b wbzt this day his soul may be required of him. If there even one hen who has headed me," — and he let his eye fi for an instant upon almost all his hearers, but especial on the Ernest set — " I shall know that it was not i notiiing that I felt the call of the Lord, and heard as thou^t a voice by nig^t that bade me come hither luick] for there was a chosen vessd m^o bad need of me." Here Mr Hawke ended rather abruptly; his eamc manner, striking countenance and excdlent delivery hi produced an effect greater than the actual words 1 ha' given can convey to the reader ; the virtue lay in the nu more than in what he said ; as for the last few mysterio words about his having heard a voice by night, their ^c was magical ; there was not one who did not look down the ground, nor who in his heart did not half believe that 1 was the chosen vessel on whose especial behalf God hi sent Mr Hawke to Cambridge. Even if this were not 1 each one of them felt that he was now for the &rst tin in the actual presoice of one who had had a direct coi munication from the Almighty, and the^ were thus sudden t»x)ught a htmdredfold nearer to the New Testamei miracles. They were amazed, not to say scared, and 1 though by tacit consent they gathered together, thaiiked 1 Hawke for his se: mon, said good>ni§^t in a hmnbte defe ential manner to Badcock and the other Sinnonitf and left the room together. They had heard nothing bi vrbat they had been hearing all their lives ; haw was J then, that they were so dtunbfoundered by it ? I wappo partly because they had lately begun to think mo seriously, and were in a fit state to be impressed, part from the greater directness with which each felt hum addressed, through the sermon being ddivered in a tea and partly to the logical consistency, freecknn from czaggc atkm, and profound afr of conviction with which Mr Haw) had spcketk. Hk simpUdty and obvious eanMastaesa hi impressed them even before he had aUaded to fab aped •i The Way of AH Flesh 227 •iSn t^J \ T*"® "P*2» **»• ^«^ of each M they w^n^ pensively home through mooiUit courts and thi ^~\ ^u !l[^lP^^ *°»°"? *^ Simeonite. alter the Ernest set had left them, but Uiey would have be«i more ^ mortal if they had not been a^^ H datS jnth the results of the evening. Why. W^ofEraSt^ M^ds was in the University eleven, a^d he had wTuaUv be« in Badcpck's rooms an/ had sluik off on s^g^ ^ht as meekly as anv of them. It was no simJjKto have scored a success Uke this. ^^ ^^ CHAPTER L S w«ni?!!j°'''' ^u ?* J)J^ P^^* o' Ws Ufe had come. He would pve up all for Christ-even his tobacco. ♦h!!!l ^FS*^^ *' ^ '^erWspipesandpouches,andlocked aSS/£"*^ P^IV' ".*^" ^^^ ^ bed where they He did not bum them, because someone might Win ^ J^ed to smoke, and though he might abridge his own hberty yet, as smoking was not a ^, there m no "?S7^ he should be hard on other people. "* "^ °° Alte brwkfast he left his rooms to call on a man named ^wsjo, who had been one of Mr Hawke's hearers on the Receding evening, and who was reading for ordination ^f ml^""!^*!^^ been always of a rather seri^ tmn of nund--a httle too nauch so for Ernest's taste ; but ^ had chang^. and Dawson's undoubted sincerity J!^^ « Jf*^? ^ ^ ***^ counseUor for Ernest at the prwoittime. As he was going through the first court of S^SS?h!^ fT ^^^^°^' His ad^oTwas received with one of those ecsUtic gleams which shone occasionally upon the face of Badowk. and which, if 228 The V" y of All Flesh Ernest had known more, would have reminded him < Robespierre. Ai it was, he saw it and unconscious! recognised the unrest and sdl-seeldngneu of the man, bi could not yet formulate them ; he &liked Badcock moi than ever, but as he was going to profit by the spiritui benefits which he had put in his way, he was bound to t dvU to him, and civil he therefore was. Badcock told him that Mr Hawke had returned 1 town inmMdiately his discourse was over, but that befoi ddng so he had enquired particularly who Ernest an two or three others were. I believe each one of Ernest friends was eiven to understand that he had been more ( less particmarly enquired after. Ernest's vanity— f( he was his mother's son— was tickled at this ; the idc acain presented itself to him that he might be the one fc whose benefit Mr Hawke had been sent. There was somi thing, too, in Qadcock's manner which conveyed the ide that he could say more if he chose, but had been enjoine to silence. On reaching Dawson's rooms, he found his friend i raptures over the discourse of the preceding evenin( Hardly less delighted was he with the effect it had pn duced on Ernest. He had always known, he said, ths Ernest would come round ; he had been sure of it, but I had hardly expected the conversion to be so sudda Ernest said no more had he, but now that he saw his dut so clearly he would get ordained as soon as possible, an take a curacy, even though the doing so would make hii 1 a e to go (town from Cambridge earlier, which would t k <^eat grief to him. Dawson ajmlauded this detemmu tion, and it was arranged that as Ernest was still more < less of a weak brother, Dawson should take him, so to speal in gnritual tow for a while, and strengthen and confirm h: faith. An offensive and defensive alliance therefore was struc op between tiiiis pair (who were in reality singularly i assorted), and Ernest set to work to master the books o whidi the Bishop would examine him. Others gradual! jafaded them till they formed a small set or church (fc these are tibue same things), and the efiect of Mr Hawke »l The Way of All Flesh 229 •"woototeiid of wearing off ^«pected. t«»ne more and more JiarkedTw m»ch I S^**ot?*"r ?"!}"' *l?«<*P«^y^k»l»de. He had, as S^ .Z !?• i"°Pi?*^ *** "^ ^^- ^ day ong on the nS.ii^iI? ^*''^*^ ■*!?°^" h« ^e* *J»em l»e in W. port- mwiteau bravely ; but this was not very difficult, uh» fcn IS."5"* ?°!f.|*^ "P «moking till iter haU. Aft« SSf^ ^y ^1 1^ "^5 r°^« *^ ^ape» time, and thS dSlnin^^P*? ^ «jlf-defence. Wh^^he returned S oSiS^Sli° ^?2.M?* ""**^ '">«> » «>"«non sense pomt of view. On this he saw that, provided tobaccTSd SiH ^iZi^ heaJth-and he really could not s^Stt it ♦hi ^J^."""^]^* ^" forbidden in the Bible, but then It had not yet been discovered, and had probaWv Td^^*.^* ^ T^°u* ^^« "*h«^ o' them asSS^ fw?*^*® 5*" t churchwarden. Ernest could not den? thw^ and admitted that Paul would ahnost c«tS3J toown of Its existence. Was it not then taking rath«^ m«n adyant^e of the Apostie to stand on his not^^ actuagrforWdd^ it ? On the other hand, it w^pS that God knew Paul would have forbiddei smokinTand had purposdy ai^nged the discovery of t^S^ioTt penod at wlOch Paul should be no Wer U^ Th^ might sewn rather hard on Paul. consiSne^V^d ^"^^^ Christianity, but it would be madi Sp to Wm i^ Ja'^^^T ^^^ ^™*^* *hat on the whole he o ^ii?*?.*"°?®' '^ he sneaked to his portmanteau SLf^^H°° ^^l^i ^ ^i*^^' ^^ ^ virtue ;w for that night he smoked immoderately. It was a pit^, how- 230 The Way of All Flesh ever, that he had bragged to Dawson about givii^ up •molring. The pijpes had better be kept in a cupboard for a week or two, tUl in other and easier req}ects Ernest shouM have proved his steadfastness. Then th^ might steal out again little by Uttle— and so they did. Ernest now wrote home a letter couched in a vein different from his ordinary ones. His letters were usually all common form and padding, for as I have already ex- plamed, if he wrote about anything that really mterested him, his mother always wanted to know more and mora about it — every fresh answer being as the lopping oS of a hydra's head and giving birth to half a dozen or more new questions— but in the end it came invariably to the same result, namely, that he ought to have done something dse, or ought not to go on doing as he proposed. Now, however, there was a new depsuture, and for the thou- sandth time he iconduded that he was about to take a course of which his father and mother would approve, and in which they would be interested, so that at last he and they might get on more sympathetically than heretofore. He therefore wrote a gushing impulsive letter, which afforded much amusement to mysdf as I read it, but which is too long for reproductK>n. One passage ran : " I am now going towards Christ ; the greater number of my collie friends are, I feai-, going away from Him ; we must pray for them that they may find the peace that is in Christ even as I have myself found it" Ernest covered his face with his hands for shame aa he read this extract from ihb bundle of letters he had put into my hands — ^they had been returned to him by his father on his mother's dnth, his mother having carefully preserved them. " ShaH I cut it out ? " said I, " I will if you like." " Certainly not," he answered, " and if good-natured friends have kept more records of my follies, pick out any Elums that may amuse the reader, and let lum have hh iugh over them." But fancy what effect a letter Uke this— so nnled up to— must have produce! at Battersby I Even Christina refrained from ecstasy over her son's having discovered the power of Christ's word, while Theobald was frightened out of his wiU. It was well hit The Way of AU Flesh 231 son was not goiiig to have any doubts or diffictdties, and uat he would be ordained without making a fuss over it, but he smelt mischief in this sudden conversion of one who had never yet shown any mdination towards religion. He hated people who did not know where to stop. Ernest was always so outrd and strange ; there was never any knowing what he would do next, except that it would be something unusual and silly. If he was to get the bit between his teeth after he had got ordained and bought his living, he would play more pranks than ever he, Theobald, haddone. The fact, doubtless, of his being ordained and having bought a living would go a long way to steady him, and if he married, his wife must see to the rest ; this was his only chance and, to do justice to his sagacity, Theobald in his heart did not think very highly of it. When Ernest came down to Battersby in June, he im- I)rudently tried to open up a more unreserved communica- tion with his father than was his wont. The first of Ernest's snipe-like flights on being flushed by Mr Hawke's seraK»n was in the direction of ultra-Evangelicalism. Theobald himself had been much more Low than High Church. This was the normal development of the country clergyman during the first years of his clerical life, between, we will say, the years 1825 to 1850 ; but he was not pre- pared for the ahnost contempt with which Ernest now redded the doctrines of baptismal regeneration and Enestly absolution (Hoity toity, indeed, what business had e with such questions ?), nor for his desure to find some means of reconciling Methodism and the Church. Theo- bald hated the Church of Rome, but he hated dissenters too, for he found them as a general rule troublesome people to deal with ; he ahvays found people who did not agree with him troublesome to deal with : besides, they set up for knowing as much as he did ; nevertheless u he had been let alone he would have leaned towards them rather than towards the High Church party. The ncidi- bouring clergy, however, would not let him alone. One by one they had come under the influence, directly or in- directly, of the Oxford movement which had begun twenty years eariior. It was surprising how many i»actic«8 he 232 The Way of All Flesh now tolorated which in his }^uth he would have considered Popish ; he knew very well therefore which way thin^ were going in Church matters, and saw that as unial Ernest was settis^ himself the other way. The opportanity for tdling his son that he was a fool was too favourable not to be embraced, and Theobald was not slow to embrace it. Ernest was annoyed and surprised, for had not his father and mother been wanting him to be more religious all his life ? Now that he had become so they were still not satisfied. He said to himself tbat a prophet was not without honour save in his own country, but he had been lately— or rather until latdy — getting into an odious habit of turning proverbs upside down, and it occurred to him that a country is sometimes not without honour save for its own prophet. Then he laughed, and for the rest of the day felt more as he used to fed before he had heard Mr Hawke's sermon. He returned to Cambridge for the Long Vacation of 1858 —none too soon, for he had to go in for the Voluntary Theological Examination, which bishops were now begin- ning to insist upon. He imagined aU the time he was reading that he was storing himsdf with the knowledge that would best fit him for the work he had taken in hand. In truth, he was cramming for a pass. In due time he did pass— creditably, and was ordamed Deacon with half-a- dosen others of his friends in the autumn of 1858. Ho wu then just twenty-three years old. CHAPTER LI Ernbst had been ordained to a curacy in one of the central parts of London. He hardly knew anything of London yet, but his instincts drew him thither. The day after he was ordained he entered upon his duties — feeling much as his father had done when he found himsdf boxed up in the carriage with Christina on the morning of his marriage. Before the first three days wort over, he became await The Way of All Flesh 233 ttat the light of the happiness which he had known duriiw his four years at Cambridge had been extinguished, and he m appafled by the irrevocable nature of the step whfch he now felt that he had taken much too hurriedly. The most charitable excuse that I can make for the ^ragaries which it will now be my duty to chronicle is that the shock of change consequent upon his becoming niddenly religious, being ordained and leaving Cambridge, bsLd been too much for my hero, and had for the time thrown him off an equilibrium which was yet little sup- ported by experience, and therefore as a matter of course unstable. Everyone has a mass of bad work in him which he will have to work off and get rid of before he can do better— and indeed, the more lasting a man's ultimate good work is, the more sure he is to pass through a time, and perhaps a very long one, in which there seems very little hope for mm at all. We must all sow our spiritual wild oats. The fault I fed personally disposed to find with my godson is not that he had wild oats to sow, but that they were such an exceedingly tame and uninteresting crop. The sense of humour and tendency to think for himself, of which till afew months previously he had been snowing fair promise were nipped as though by a late frost, while his earlier l»Wt of taking on trust everything that was told him by those in authority, and following everything out to the bitter aid, no matter how preposterous, returned with redoubled strength. I suppose tiiis was what might have been expected from anyone placed as Ernest now was, wpedaUv when his antecedents are remembered, but it surprised and disappointed some of his cooler-headed Cam- bridge friends who had begun to think well of his ability. To himself it seemed that religion was incompatible with half measures, or even with compromise. Circumstances had led to his being ordained ; for the moment he was sorry they had, but he had done it and must go through with it. He therefore set himself to find out what was expected of him, and to act accordingly. His rector was a moderate High Churchman of no very pronounced viewa^-an elderly man who had had too many i 234 The Way of All Flesh curates not to have long since found out that the conhec* tkm between rector and curate, like that between emi^yer and en^loved in evoy other walk of life, was a mere matter of business. lie had now two curates, of whom Ernest was the jimior ; the senior curate was named Pryei; and when this gentleman ma^ advances, as he presently did, Ernest in his forlorn state was ddighted to meet them. Fryer was about twenty-eight years old. He had been at Eton and at Oxford. He was tall, and passed generally for good-looking; I only saw him once for about five minutes, and then thought him odious both in manners and appearance. Perhaps it was because he caught me up in a way I did not like. I had quoted Shakespeare for lack of something better to fill up a sentence— and had said that one tooch of nature made the whde world kin. " Ah," said Pryer, in a bold, brazen way which displeased me, " but one touch of the unnatural makes it more kindred still," and he gave me a look as though he thought me an old bore and did not care two straws whether I ¥ras shocked or not. Naturally enough, after this I did not like him. This, however, is anticipating, for it was not till Ernest had been three or four months in London that I happ^ed to meet his fdlow-curate, and I must deal here rather with the efiect he produced upon my godson than upon mysdf . Besides being what was generally considered good-looldng* he was faultless in his get-up, and altogether the kind of man whom Ernest was sure to be afraid of and yet be taken in by. The style of his dress was very High Church, and his acquaintances were exclusively of the extreme High Church party, but he kept his views a good deal inth« background in his rector's presence, and that gentleman, though he looked askance on some of Fryer's friends, had no such ground of complaint against him as to make him sever the connection. Fryer, too, was popular in the pul- pit, and, take him all round, it was probable that many worse curates would be found for one better. Wh«a Fryer called on my hero, as soon as the two were alone togetiier, he eyed him all over with a quick penetrating j^aace i^ The Way of AH Flesh 235 teemed not dissatisfied with the result— for I must say her« ttat Ernest had improved in personal appearance uider the more genial treatment he had received at Cambridge. Pryer, in fact, approved of him sufficiently to treat Um civilly, and Ernest was immediately won by anyone who did this. It was not long before he discovered that the High Church party, and even Rome itself, had more to say for themselves than he had thought. This was his first snipe-like change of flight. Pryer mtroduced him to several of his friends. They were all of them young clergymen, belonging as I have said to the highest of the High Church school, but Efnest was surprised to find how much they resembled other people when among themselves. This was a shock to him ; It was ere long a still greater one to find that certain thoughts which he had warred against as fatal to his soul, and which he had imagined he should lose once for all on ordination, were still as troublesome to him as they had been ; he also saw plainly enough that the young gentle- men who formed the cfrde of Fryer's friends were in much the same unhappy predicament as himself. This was deplorable. The only way out of it that Ernest could see was that he should get married at once. But then he did not know any one whom he wanted to marry. He did not know any woman, in fact, whom he would not rather die than marry. It had been one of Theobald's and Christina's main objects to keep him out of the way of women, and they had so far succeeded that women had become to him mysterious, inscrutable objects to be tolerated when it was impossible to avoid them, but never to be sought out or encouraged. As for any man loving, or even being at all fond of any woman, he supposed it was so, but he believed the greater number of those who pro- fessed such sentiments were liars. Now, however, it was dear tiiat he had hoped agamst hope too long, and that the only thing to do was to go and ask the first woman who would listen to him to come and be married to him as soon as possible. He broached this to Fryer, and was surprised to find that this gvntleman, though attentive to such members of his 236 The Way of All Flesh Jock M w«e yonng and Rood-looking, was stromdv 1 fevour of the cdibacy of &t clergTS inde^^^A ^^ demure young denes to whom Pryer had introduce* CHAPTER LII *• You know, my dear Pontifex," said Pryer to him. 8om< iew weeks after Ernest had become acquainted with him, When tte two were taking a constitutional one day in Kensmgton Gardens, " You know, my dear Pontifex. it ia aB very wen to quarrd with Rome, but Rome has reduced t^tr^tment of the human soui to a sdence. while our own Church, though so much purer in many respects, has no organised system either of diagnosis or pathSoiAr-I mean, of course, spiritual diagnosis and spiritual pathSogy. Our Church does not prescribe remedies upon my settied system, and, what is still worse, even when her physicians have Mcordir^ to thdr lights ascertained the dW and pomted out the remedy, she has no disdpline which will ensure Its l^mg actually applied. If our patients do not dioose to dp as we tdl them, we camiot mate tii^ Perhaps really under all the circumstances this is as weU for we are ^intuajy mere horse doctors as compared with the Roman pnesthood, nor can we hope to i£ake much headway against the sm and misery that surround ns. tiH we return m some respects to the practice of our fore- takers and of the greater part of Christendom." Ernest adced in what respects it was that his friend « ^* "*^ *° *^« practice of our forefathers. t I ^^yi ™y ?^*^ '«"ow, can you reaUy be ignorant ? It fa just Ais. either the priest is indeed a spiritSal^de. S bemg able to show people how they ought to live better than they can find out for themsdves, or he is nothing Tt jS^Jil^J?^ m W^e. If the priest is not as mudi a h^ and director of men's souls as a physidan fa of thdr bodies, what IS he ? The hfatory of all 4es has showa- The Way of AU Flesh 237 •nd snrdy you must know this as wdl as I do-that at mai cannot cure the bodies of their patients if they have not bera property trained in hospitals under sldUed ttttcheis. ■° °***?^can souls be cured of their more hidden ailments without the help of men who are skilled in soul-craft— or in other words, of priests. What do one half of our formu- lanes and rubrics mean if not this ? How in the name of all that is reasonable can we find out the exact nature of a ^tual malady, unless we have had experience of other sumlar cases ? How can we get this without express trauung ? At present we have to begin aU experiments for ourselves, without profiting by the organised experi- ence of our predecessors, inasmuch as that experience is never organised and co-ordinated at all. At the outset uicrefore, each one of us must ruin many souls which could be saved by knowledge of a few elementary principles." Ernest was very much impressed. *'As for men curing themselves," continued Pryer, they can no more cure their own souls than they can cure tteir own bodies, or manage their own law affairs. In these two last cases they see the folly of meddling with their own cases clearly enough, and go to a professional adviser as a matter of course ; surely a man's soul is at once a more difficult and intricate matter to treat, and at the same time It is more important to him that it should be treated rightly than that either his body or his money should be so. What are we to think of the practice of a Church which encourages people to rely on unprofessional advice m matters affecting their eternal welfare, when they would not think of jeopardismg their worldly affairs by such msane conduct ? '^ Ernest could see no weak place in this. These ideas had crcMsed his own mmd vaguely before now, but he had never laid hold of them or set them in an orderly manner before himself. Nor was he quick at detecting ftdse analogies and toe misuse of metaphors ; in fact he was a mere child in the hands of his fellow curate. " And what," resumed Pryer, " does aU this pomt to ? ratty, to the duty of confession— the outcry agakist mdch is absurd as an outcry would be against dissection 238 The Way of All Flesh young mtn mtitt Me and do a creat d^l wTa^ «^*^ otter profeidon unlete they are prepared? or ttSP S tfl^£!t"»r*'iL* they must »tand their chScefl SSShnTJJnSrlf^ * r *^* »nin«t«t and most repulsi^ •u m stages. Some of us must doubtl«Mfv iwJ^ir!L!t J J^ln«ch instigation,. \^\2Z?hdJSfSg^ J»Mt have ttt martvTs, and none of tliie iiU d22J i^'^'Sd "^ '"*~*** b-t in th. mod tiM tU worid condonns most londjy hay, ..SJrf^l^ The Way of All Flesh 239 tb«n and mpdn modente me rather thin total abeti. nence* Eraert a^ timidly for an instance. liiVi^' •»ldPry«;."IwiKgiveyoiinointtance.but U^i^J\r^ * '^""?* ^^ «**" ^^"^ a" instances. ittt th^ that no practice is entirely vicious which has not Dem extingidshed among the comeliest, most vigorous, and most cultivated races of mankind in spite of ^turies of ^^"^S !?*^*' **• "a vice in spite of such e&rts SI?.!liT^** *?f^ *°*°°« *^« °>o»t polished nations, it must be founded on some immutable truth or fact in human nature, and must have some compensatory advan- taig^jvhich we cannot afford altogether to dispense " ®?!.C**y ?5°** timidly, " is not this virtually doing away with aU distinction between right and wroi, and .??**??*P^* without any moral guide whatever 7" Not the people," was the answer: "it must be our care to be gmdes to these, for they are and always wiU be in- capable of gmding themselves sufficiently. We should tell T^j u v^y °*^* do, and in an ideal state of things should be ahleto enforce their doing it : perhaps wh^lSe SSk^^ii"*^"^ ^^ **^ »*ate may co^ about ; Dotting will so advance It as greater knowledge of KMrituai pathology on our own part. For this, three thu«s are necessary; firsUy. absolute freedom in experimtttlor us tte cleigy ; secondly, absolute knowledge of what the laity ^ and do, and of what thoughts and actions result ii ii*at spintual conditions ; and thirdly, a compacter oreani- satkm among ourselves. * " If we are to do any good we must be a ck)8ely united body. Md must be sharply divided from the laity. Also we must be free from those ties which a wife and chUdren tavol^ I can hardly express the horror with which I am fifled by seeing Enghsh priests living in what I can only dengjiate as open matrimony.' It is deplorable. The imest must be absolutely sexless-if not in practice, yet at any rate m theory, absolutely-and that too, b/ a tteoiy so^universally accepted that none shall venture to 24© The Way of AM Flesh " BuV Mid Emett. " has not the BiUe alraady UA people what they ought and ought not to do, end It it no mough for ui to inibt on what can be found here, and Ic the rest alone ? " " If you hef^ with the Bible," was the rejoinder, " yo are three parU gone on the road to infidelity, and will g the other part bdore you know where you are. The Biu to not without ita value to ua the clergy, but for the kit it ii a itumbling-block which cannot be taken out of thel W too ioon or too completely. Of cowie, I mean oi the auppodtion that they read it, which, happily, the^ Mddom do. If peo^de read the Bible as theSdinar British churchman or churchwoman reads it, it is hann kis enough ; but if they read it with any care— which w should assume they will if we give it tliem at all— it i fatal to them." , "What do you mean ?" said Ernest, more and mon astonished, but more and more feeling that he was at lea« in the hands of a man who had di^te ideas. " Your question shows me that you have never reac your BiUe. A more unrdiable book was never put upoi paper. Take my advice and don't read it, not till you an a few years older, and may do so safely." "But surely you believe the Bible when it teUs you ol nch things as that Christ died and rose from the dead i Surdy you bdieve this ?" said Ernest, quite pr«>ared tc be told that Pryer bdieved nothing of t^ kind " I do not believe it. I know it^ " But bow^-if the testimony of the Bible tolls ? " " On that of the living vc^ce of the Church, whkh 1 know to be infaUihle and to be informed of Christ him. tall." The Way of All Flesh 241 CHAPTER LIII TMfowgoing conv«mtlon and others Uke it made a deep b^rejricm up W» «>Ue«« Wench ei pounding hit views u though he had been one of th ApoetoUc fathert. At for the Old Tettament writen, h liad no patience with them. " Do oblige me," I And hit writing to one friend, " by reading the prophet Zecharial and giving me your candid opinion upon him. He It poo ttuff, full of Yankee bounce ; it it ticlcening to live in ai age when tudi balderdath can be gravely admired whethe at poetry or prophecy." Thlt wat becauae Piyer had te him againtt Zechariah. I do not know what Zecharial had done ; I thould think myaelf that Zechariah wat a ver good prophet ; perhapt it wat becaute he wat a Bibl' writer, and not a very prominent one, that Pryer lelectet him at one through whom to diiparage the Bible In com parison with the Church. To hit friend Dawson I find him taying a little later on * Pryer and I continue our walkt, working out each other*! thoughta. At first he used to do all the thinking, but 1 think I am pretty well abreast of him now, and rathei chuckle at seeing that he is already beginning to modifi iome of the views he held most strongly when I first knew aim. " Then I think he was on the high road to Rome ; now, however, he seems to be a good deal struck with a sugges- tion ot mine in which you, too, perhaps may be interested You see we must infuse new Hfe into the Church tome- !^'.,^.."* ™** holding our own a^^dnst either Rome oi uadeUtv." (I may say in passing that I do not believi Ernest had as yet ever seen an infidel— 4x>t to speak to.] "I DTopoaed, therefore, a few days back to Pryw^d h« fell in eagerly with the proposal as soon as he saw that 1 had the means of carryuig it out— that we should set on foot a spiritual movement somewhat anafogous to the Younc England movement of twenty years ago, the aim of which shall be at once to outbid Rome on the one hand andsceptidsm on the other. For this purpose I see nothing better than the foundation of an institution or coUege for pladnff the nature and treatment of sin on a more sdeotific buis than it rests at present We want—to borrow a use- ful term of Fryer's— « CoUege of Spiritual Fathdogy where J! The Way of AH Flesh 243 ISSf Kr5ll!,!SP^ ^"T} *»^"«ht he WM no longer ♦k- ^i^ of the ioul at medJcai itudentt ttudv thnMnf • i^^fi« of their pttlcnti. Such a SlLe « vo^Si tag IreSi Soiir^ i^H !• P»^"? torted to, I cannot call her a Christian institiitioo. Isfaoold begin with our Rector, and if I loviid it n^ccMary to kUkm The Way of All Flesh 247 ^mHuL «g«Pmiuiicating the Biihop. I ihould not flinA ^^* P"^"? * I^ndon RectocB are hopeless people to dedjrftlL My own i, one of the best ofthemrSit the monicnt Fryer and I show sisns of wanting to attack an 2!lw«t ^."otrpcogniaedTy routine, or of remedying «2^ •»»«* which no outery has been made, we arS met with, I cannot think what you mean by all this dis. turbance; nobody else among the clergy sees these things, and I have no wish to be the first to begin turning ciS thmg topsy-turvy.' And then peoplelSl him a scnaSe man. I have no patience with them. However, we know what we want, and, as I wrote to Dawson the other dav ^?il^r%°?».^'^* "^^"^ ^' ^ ^^^' ^^^y «~t the reqinranents of the case. But we want more money, and S^.S?/°*?''m*°'^*** ««**>°8 1^ ^ not turned out quite sosatttfactonlyasPryerandlhadhopcd; weshaU.how- ever, I doubt not, retrieve it shortly." When Ernest came to London he intended doing a good deal n one way cJ another ; then there are the Sunday School chUdren. irith man I fifl my room on a Sunday evening as full as it wiU oaid, and let them sing hymns and chants. They Uke this. 1 eculative but cautious, daringly courageous, but properly drcumspect withal," etc., etc. I think this may do for the present . CHAPTER LV I HAD called on Ernest as a matter of course when he first came to London, but had not seen him. I had been out when he returned my call, so that he had been in town for some weeks before l actually saw him, which I did not very long after he had taken possession of his new rooms. I liked htt face, but except for the common bond of music, in respect of which our tastes were singularly alike, I shoobi hardly have known how to get onrnth him. To do him justice he did not air any of his schemes to me until I had drawn him out concerning them. I, to borrow the wwds of Ernest's landlady, Mrs Jupp, " am not a very rMokr ^urdi-goer "—I d&covered upon cross-examination that Mrs Jupp had been to church ooct when she was chuidied for her son Tom some five and twenty years since, but never either before or afterwards ; not even, I fear, to be mar- ried, for though she called herself " Mrs " she wor« no wedding ring, and spoke of the person who shouM have been Mr Jupp as " my poor dear bojr's father," not as " my husband." But to return. I was vexed at Ernest's having been ordained. I was not ordained mysdf and I did not like my friends to be ordained, nor did I like havi^ to be on my Mst behaviour and to kwk as if butto- woida not melt m my mouth, aad all for a bey whom I The Way of All Flesh 249 bered when he knew yesterday and to-morrow and Tuesday, iwt not a day of the week moro— not even Sunday itself— and when he said he did not like the kitten because it had pins in its toes. I looked at him and thought of his aunt Alethea, and 7/ ">oncy she had left him was accumulating ; and it was all to go to this young man, who would use it probably m the very last ways with which Miss Pontifex would have sympathised. I was annoyed. " She always said, I thought to myself, " that she diould make a mas Of It, but I did not think she would have made as great a men of it as this." Then I thought that perhaps S his aunt had hved he would not have been like this. Ernest behaved quite nicely to me and I own that the lault was mine if the conversation drew towards dangerous subjects. I was the aggressor, presuming I suppose upon my age and long acquaintance with him, as giving me a t5 ^ "*^® myself unpleasant in a quiet way. Then he came out, and the exasperating part of it was ttat up to a certain point he was so very right. Grant him nis pronises and his conclusions were sound enough, nor ronld I, seeing that he was already ordained, join issue 5™ 51m about his premises as I should certainly have done if I had had a chance of doing so before he had taken orders. The result was that I had to beat a retreat and went away not in the best of humours. I believe the truth was that I liked Ernest, and was vexed at his being a clergyman, and at a deigyman having so much money conunff to him. ' I ^ked a little with Mrs Jupp on my way out. She and! had reckoned one another up at first sight as being ndUier of us " very regular church-goers," and the stxina 2 her tongue had been loosened. She said Ernest would me. He was much too good for the world and he kraked 80 sad ' just like young Watkins of the ' Crown ' over the wiy who died a month ago, and his poor dear skin was ^te as alablaster ; least-ways they say he shot hisself . They took him from the Mortimer, I met them just as I was gomg with my Rose to get a pint o' four ale, and she aad her arm in splints. She told her sister she wanted to aso The Way of All Flesh S??? *• r^ A tut mud, toTpJJr MjU^ nt ■^ ^^ •V^"^.? W i notSit whit Putol So th« took hfm from Ui« Mortimer: ffim midSn'rl-; JSShSlTT" "dhedonoTthat^M^kii? U. Joy's WiJSf "l",,"!? «<»•• , j"*" '^. I hoB. whTffJL'. ,„?^ inoro than a unborn babe, no he eSt; rX!rSiS,^.5 T^ "^ ••»»* !*»*>» with i ■lie would £«ve ended her diKo^ I !li^2^ ^''^*** tto«j|*,t h«r k,ag., grew woTK, A. WM to come a^&S doSt'm'S'u'llSlS'Y^t'SMLrtJ^^ thS ^«yr i?T ^^'^^ • ^**J« <>^ four mwth^ l»^ ^IjWin a leeUe tentative way to rwlke it, bnt n^te? • other It ahwjri managed to eicape Urn. ^^^^^^ The Way of All Flesh 251 lit UTtd tmong the poor, but be did not find that he got tolmow them. The idea that they would come to Urn proved to be a mistaken one. He did indeed vidt a few tame peta whom hit rector desired him to loolc after. There waa an old man and his wife who lived next door but one to Bmeat himself ; then there was a plumber of the name of Chesterfield ; an aged lady of the name of Cover, tiind and bed^ridden, who munched and munched her feeble old toothless laws as Ernest spoke or read to her, but who could do little more ; a Mr Brookes, a rag and bottle mer- dumt in Birdsey's RenU in the last stage of dropsy, and perhaps half a dosen or so others. What did it all come to, when be did go to see them ? The plumber wanted to be flattered, and liked fooling a gentleman into wasting his time by scratching his ears for him. Mrs Cover, poor old jraiaa, wanted money ; she was very good and meek, and waen Ernest got her a shilling from Lady Anne Jones's bequest, she said it was "small but seasonable," and munched and munched in gratitude. Ernest sometimes Kve her a little money himself, but not, as he says now. if what be ought to have given. What could he do else Uiat would have been of the smaUest use to her ? Nothbg indeed ; but giving occa- M^al half-crowns to Mrs Cover was not regenerating the VBlTene, and Ernest wanted nothing short of this. The world waa all out of joint, and instead of feeling it to be a cursed spite that he was bom to set it right, he thought he was iust the kind of person that was wanted for the job. ■ad waa eager to set to work, only he did not eacactly taww how to begin, for the beginning he had made wi£ wChesterfield and Mrs Cover did not promise great dwek^pments. Then poor Mr Brookea— he suffered very much, terribly indeed ; he was not in want of money ; he wanted to die •ad cooMn't, ittst as we sometimes want to go to sleep and caanot He had been a soious-minded man, and death frightened him as it must frin^ten anyone who believes that all his most secret thou«^ts will be shortly exposed ia imbiic. When I read Ernest the description ol how his father used to visit Mrs ThompiOB at Battersby, he cokNind iS» The Way of All Flesh ^Mt Idt Out Ui vWtt, M br bo^ cmMS» S3?S hd?ltV°"*" '^"' "~ "* ~^ •"* "^ Evoi Pryer, who had been curate a conple of yean, dk not knowpoBonaUy more than a couple ofhundred peopk to the pariah at the outride, and it was only at the hoinei of very few of these that he ever visited, but then Pryer had wch a strong objection on principle to house visitations What a drop in the sea were those with whom he and nyer wwe brought into direct communication in com- ptnson with those whom he must reach and move if be wwe to produce much effect of any kind, one way or the *™- Why there were between fifteen and twenty thou, •and poor in the parish, of whom but the merast fraction evw attaided a place of worriiip. Some few went to dis- senting chapels, a few were Roman Catholics ; by far the grnt^ number, however, were practicaUy infidek if not actively hostile, at any rate indi£Ferent to religion, while many were avowed Atheists-admiren of Tom Paine, of whom he now heard for the first time ; but he never met and conversed with any of these. ^Sl! J« "*"y ^°f^ everything that could be expected ofhtai? It was aU very weU to say that he was dcSni as ^di as other young clergymen did ; that was not the tod of amer which Jesus Christ was likely to accent : iwiy, the Pharisees themselves in all piobabiUty ^ as much as the other Pharisees did. What he should do wai to go hito the highways and byways, and coomei people to 2SLSL^i£? S^ **? ' t a sharp k>ok out. heshould aper, which said they would go ever so much lower, and. contrary to Fryer's advice, he insisted on seUing— at a loss of something Uke £500. He had hardly sold when up went the shares a^ndn, and he saw how foolish he had been, and how wise Prycr was, for if Fryer's advice had been followed, he would have made £500, instead of losing it. However, he told himself he must live and learn. Then Pi^ made a mistake. They had bought soma shares, and the shares went up ddightfully for about a fortnight. This was a happy time indeed, for by the end of a fortnight, the lost £soo had been recovered, and three or four hundred poundshad been cleared into the bargain. AH the feverish anxiety of that miserable six weeks, when the £soo was bebg lost, was now being repaid with in- terest. Ernest wanted to sell and make sure of the profit, but Fr3^ would not hear of it ; they would go ever so much ' Igher yet, and he showed Ernest an artide in some BewqMiper which proved that what he said was reasonable, and they did go up a little— but only a very little, for then thev went down, down, and Ernest saw first his clear profit of three or lour hundred pounds go, and then the £500 loss, which he thought he had recovwed, slipped away by teOt of a half and one at a time, and then he lost /aoo more. Then a newspaper said that these shares were the neatest rubbish that had ever been imposed upon the FngHA public, and Ernest could stand it no longer, so he sold out, again this time against Fryer's advice, so that when they went up, as they shortly did. Fryer scored off Ernest a second time. Ernest was not used to vidssitudes of this kind, and tiiey made him so anxious that his health was affected. It was arranged therefore that he had better know nothing of n^at was being done. P^ was a much better man at «54 The Way of All Flesh boiiMit than he wu, and would Me to it all. Thiinlitvw ww»t of a good dMl of tnmbla, and was Utter after al for the UiTettmenta themielvci ; for, aa Pryer juitly laid a inan moit not have a faint heart if he hopea to locceec in bnyfaif and aelling upon the Stock Exchaoct, and •eeinff Erneat nervoui made Pryer nervoua too--«t H m t t. hejKUdit dd. So the money drifted more and mow intfi mer'a handa. Aa for Fryer himaelf , he had nothiM hoi ua curacy and a tmaU aUowance from hia father. Some of Emeefa old frienda got an inkling fren hii ?*,5_^r* 'I* ^"^ ***^' •"<* ^^ *J>w utmoat to dia- nade um, but he waa aa infatuated aa a youiw tover of twoand twenty. Finding that theae Menib JSpproved. ZJ!^2F!L''7!lH!^ ^^ *^^ ^^' Wng bor7With hia egotim and high-itown ideaa, were not lorry to let him do ■o. Of comae, he said nothing about hia neculatioiia-. indeed, he hardly knew that anything doneln lo good a gnae could be called roeculattenTAt BattcrOiyrwhtt J «f«i Wm to look out for a next praaentatkm. *"2fvm brought one or two piomiaiiM oom unda- hie notice, he made objectiona and excuaea, thouch ahvava ptwniiing to do « ia father dedied^ iSS^. ^^ CHAPTER LVI Brand by a anbtle, indefinable wuMu bcfan to taka rneiMeion of him. I once law a very young foal intm to •at aoiBo moat objectionable refuse, andllnable to mka ffiS^'If^ii!?*^ **»**• Cleariy it wanted to be told If ita mother had aeen what it waa doin£ iJiejijmWUveaet it right in a moment, an^ It had been told that what it waa eating waa iUth. the foal woold have recog^Md it and never have wanted to be l^again ; but the foiL .lonld not aettle themi^tcr for ItM^or make up ita n^ whether it Hked what it wm ^TnStoeator no, without aaiistance from without I nppoae it wouki hav* oome to do io bf aad by. bat it WW ud The Way of All Fleth ass •[••Ung tiflM and trouble, which a dncla look tmm. u^ kS^^^^i^* thi.tta.wi v«y much lik. th. ftnxiotit to da whft* «M> J4L.I J ■"y^*i«"« **• wu to •M«*iww TO oo wnat WM right, and so ready to believe that i!2ZT!'[ ir™f "**• « <1M not occnr to Ilm that tli«» ^g* b. . U«i& «,«*«., niuch ta. roduced it mof sue. One evening, however, about this thne, whom should he tee off miwg along a snudl street not far from his own but, of all persons in the world, Towneley, looking as full of Ule and good mints as ever, and if poitible even handMxmflr than he had been at Cambridge. Much as Ernest liked him he found himself shiinUng from q)eaking to 1^ and was oideavouring to pass hun without doing so when Towneley saw him and stopped him at once, being pleased to see an old Cambridge face. He seemed for the mome nt a Mttif confused at being seen in such a nei(^bouihood, Imt recovered himself so soon that Ernest haidly noticed it aad then pluiM^ed hito a fe\7 kindly remarks about old ♦k.*^ Ernest felt that he quailed as he saw Townees eye wander to Us white necktie and saw that he was bcmg ri^ooed up, and rather disapprovingly reckoned tip. as a puson. It was the merest passing shade upon Towneleys aloe, but Ernest had felt it. Towneley said a few words of common form to Ernest about his profession as being what he thought wouM be moat Hkdy to interest him, and Ernest, still confused and diy gave him for lack of something better to say his Uttle tfarenenny-bit about poor people being so very nke. Townely took this for what it was worth and nodded asaent, wbenon Ernest imprudently went further and said " Don't you like poor peojde very much yourself ?'* Townaey gave his face a onnical but good-natured screw, and said quietly, but slowly and decidedly, " No, no, no," and evened. ^ , It was all over with Ernest from that moment. Asusnal he did not know it, but he had entered none the less upon another reaction. Towneley had just taken Ernests threepenny-bit into his hands, looked at it and returned it to him as a bad one. Why did he see in a moment that it was a bad one now, though he had been unable to see it when he had taken it from Pivcr ? Of course some r»or people were v«7 i^:e, and always would be so, but as The Way of AM Flesh 259 je and Piya: muit Burely be on a wroM traSr^^ T^JS^ thoSSr^oT^J; Sr ""* ?^^ to tav, tj«n hZ^; ^ ♦K^S. ^u°°* * Christian ? CertalX S Mievad in the Church of England m • wn^JT^^ * SfiL^^ISf ,* ^^^^ ""Obtrusive lifeTS/devotS^ WMTOM Towndey was not, so far as he couldiMrM^ todo^^thingoftheWnd; he ~ oSfy^*^ S^ oo^rtobly in the worid, and to look ind^aTiK u -to«j^ «d ftyer wer* not nice, and hi. old dejecSS aJS^SSlS^Jf °"*'*^*^J how if he had fallen S?*vi2?m2S .^"^k?* '^ " ^»Wtnal ones ?^ *new very little of how his monev was mrAna ^n . vL ull SSiS^ftSf^i'"!?' •" *<«»tod Tfo iX/te! 26o The Way of All Flesh that that was to be left to him, and Bmett had better •tick to this, or he, Pryer, would throw op the CoDege of Spiritual Pathology altogether ; and so Ernest was cowed into a(X|uiescence, or cajmed, according to the htunoor in which nyer saw hun to be. Ernest thought that further miesticms would look as if he doubted Peer's word, and aifo tnat he had gone too far to be able to recede in decency or honour. This, however, he felt was riding out to meet trouble unnecessarily. Pryer had been a little impatient, Irat he was a gentleman and an admirable man of burineas, so Us money would doubtless come back to him all rif^ somedby. Ernest comforted hinnelf as regard this Isst source of anxiety, but as regards the other, he began to fed as tiiouc^ if he was to be saved, a good Samaritan must hurry up from somewhere— he knew not whence* CHAPTER LVm Next day he felt stronger again. He had been listenhig to the voice of the evil one on the night before, and would parley no more with such thoughts. He had chosm his profusion, and his duty was to persev^e with it. If he was unhappy it was probably because he was not giving tq> aU for OaiaL Let him see vdiether he could not do more than he was doing now, and then perhaps a li^^t would be shed upon his path. It was all very wdl to have made iht discovery that he didn't very much like poor peofde, but he had got to put up wi^ than, for it was among than that his work must he. Such men as Towndev were very kind and considoate, but he knew well enou^^ it was only on condition that he did not meach to them. He could manage the poor better, and, let Fryor sneer as he liked, he was resdvea to go more among them, and try the effect of bringinf Christ to them if t^ would not come and seek Christ of thenttdves. He woidd begin with h» own house. II The Way of AH Flesh 261 better tlyn begto with the tailor who hVed imm^tZ overhishead. This would be deiintble, not , they \^' never^ekss stand no chance against St Paul, ii hem faispired; the miracle would have been if the wild^S jsc^)ed, not that St Paul should have done so: tat however aU this might be. Ernest felt that he S^^ k?^J\~"^^^'J*?i* ^y ^**°« ^- Why, wh« he had hevd Mrs Holt screamii^ "murder." he h^ ST*^ Sf^ ?^ ^ cJoth«W waited, expecting to bear the blood dnppmg through the ceiling on to Wb?^ ioor. His imaginatfon translated ev^ sound toto^ PJrtjjgt pat, and once or twice he thought he had fch it droppfag 00 to his counterpane, but he had never gone 'J i if 263 The Way of All Pledi upttain to try and reecue poor Ifat Halt. Happily it had prov«d next morning tliat Mra Holt waa te te anal EniMt was in despair about hitting on any good way of ^enhig np ipirituail communication with his neigMwor, when it occurred to him that he had better perhapa b«la by goimr upstairs, and knocking very gently at Mr Hoirii door. He would then resign himsdf to the goidaace of the Holy Spirit, and act as the occasion, which, I suppose, was another name for the Holy Spirit, suggested. Itiply armed with this reflection, he mounted the stain qolte Jauntily, and was about to knock when he heard Hm voice hiside swearing savagdy at his wife. Thismadehim pause to think whether after all the moment was aa au^ridous one, and while he was thus pausing, Mr Holt, who had heard that someone was on the stain, c»ened the door and put his head out. When he saw Ernest, he made an unjdeaaant, not to say offensive movament, whfek might or mi|^t not have been directed at Bnrnt. and loolced altogeUier so ugly that my hoo had an tetaataai^ ooa and unequivocal revelation from the Holy Spfrit to the effect that he should continue his journey upstaoi 1^ once, as though he bad never intended arresting it at Mr HoH's room, and bcf in by converting Mr andMn Baxter, the MadK>di8ts in the top floor front. So this was what ha Tlieae good peofde recMved him with open arms, and were quite ready to talk. He was begimoii^ to convert them tmm Methodism to the Church of England, whan all at o«iee he found himself embarrassed byi&a>verhig that he did not know what he was to convert them from. He knew the Church of England, or thouj^t he did, but he knew nothing of Methow t^t the ■J of P. of Jn an di nd i» iM ft h0 sre sm at he it iM he .a Bd «y cr le Id Im The Way of All Flesh 263 Wedeyani had a tystem of Chtirch disdnUne. Thk waa v<^ iiii|)ortant. If IfSl***'^*^"*** Ernett on no account to meddle with Mr «oit, and Ernest waa much relieved at the advice hi I!La^?°?*^u*™^ ,^^ touching the man's heart, he wo^ take It ; he would pat the diUdrcn on the head wh« he saw them on the stairs, and ingratiate himself with rTtr*^ far as he dared ; they were sturdy youngsters. 2?K!r?*l "^ afraid even of them, for they Were>eady Wtjaiat It woiJd mdced be ahnost better fof him that a mfflstone should be hanged about his neck, and he cast tato the sea, than that he should offend one of the litUe Mwta. However, he would try not to offend them- PJIiaps an occasional penny or two might square them. lli» was as much as he could do, for he saw that the attempt o p ?*^* ^.* °* ^^°' a* weU as in season, wouM. Ml? "*J'"**^°n notwithstanding, end in laUure. Mrs Baxter gave a very bad account of Miss Emilv Snow, who k>dged in the second floor back next to Mr ttolt. Her story was quite different frcm that of Mrs Jupp the landlady. She would doubtless be only too glad to recenre Ernest's ministrations or those of any o& fJttUanan, but die was no governess, she was in the ballet at Drury Lwie, and besides this. Ae was a very bad yomur ^!?Py.» .MX? tf .Mrs Baxter was landlady would noTu ^HS^SL!^^^' the hoittc a un|^ hour, not she mdeed. iSr*^ m the next room to Mrs Baxter's own was a OBiet and respectable yooQg woman to all appear- •nee; lira Baxter had never known of any goinabni that quarter, but, bless you. stiH waters run dwp. and these girls were all aUke, one as bad as the other!. She TO out at au kinds of hours, and when you knew that you knew all. ' Exjmi did not pay much heed to these aspereions of Mis Baxter's. Mrs Jupp bad got round the greater number of his mny bhnd sides, and had warned him not to beUeve **?.£S u 'A^ ^? *^* ****^ *^ something awful. cracit had heard that wonen were always jealous of one another, and certainly these young women were more 264 The Way of All Flesh ^!^^^ than Ifn Baxter was, go jealousy was probablv at the bottom of H. If they were mali^ied there ooiddbe «.i22!S*i? *2 ¥«„°>^dn« their acquaintance; if not maligned thev had all the more need of hit ministrationa. He would reclaim them at once. He told Mrs Jupp of his intention. Mis Jupp at first mea to chssu»k him, but seeing him resolute, suggested that she should heiself see Miss Snow first, so as to prepare ner and prevent her from being alarmed by his visit. She TO not at home now, but in the course of the next day, it shoidd be arran^. In the meantime he had better try u j?r^^i *^* ^^^' »" the front kitchen. Mrs Baxt^ *ad told Ernest that Bfr Shaw was from the North Country, and an avowed freethinker ; he would probably, she said, nther hke a visit, but she did not think Eraest would stand much chance pf making a convert of >»«*" CHAPTER LIX BxrORB going down in o the kitchen to convert the tinker l!.mest ran hurriedly ov r his analysis of PaleVs evidences, Ji*S.^"^*°i? ^ P^^ * ~Py o» Archbishop Whateley's Htttoric Doubts." Then he descended the dark rotten tad stairs and knocked at the tinker's door. Mr Shaw was very wnl; he said he w i rather throng just now, but if limest did not mmd the &>und of hammmng he should be very dad of a talk with him. Our hero, assenting to this, ore I^ led the conversation to Whateley's " Historic ponbts —a work which, as the reader mav know, pre- tends to show that there never was any person aa Napoleon Buonaparte, and thus satirises the aigumente of those who have attacked the Christian miracles Mr Shaw said he knew " Historic Doubts " very well •* And what you think of it ? " said Ernest, who regarded the pamphlet as a masterpiece of wit and cogency. *, • S ^ r'^y*'*'^* *? ^^•" '^ Mr Shaw, With a sly twinkle, I think that he who was so willing and able to . The Way of AU Flesh a6s prove tti«t what wu wm not, would be equally able and Tii u ^ ^ purpoee." Ernest was very moch tak« •back. How was it that all the clever people of Cambridge had never put him up to this rimple rejoinder? Theanswer iiJ^^l ^^ ^^ ~*. ^«^P >* *°' ^ •»»• WMon tnat a hen had never developed webbed feet— that is to m* bemuse they did not want to do so ; but this was J«ore the days of Evolution, and Ernest could not u yet know anything of the great principle that underlies it ♦K • r . •**!: ~?t">»«* Mr Shaw, " these writen aO get tn« hvmg by wntuig in a certain way, and the mora they write to that way. the more they are Ukdy to get on. You •hould not caU them dishonest for this any more than a judge should caU a barrister dishonest for earning his living by defending one in whose innocence he don not •wiously beheve ; but you should hear the barrister on the otna: side before you decide upon the case." ♦Jr? V^A ""^r^ ^^' ^~* """^^ only ttMnmer tnat ne had endeavoured to examine these questk>ns as carefully as he could, ^ «""« «• " You thmk you have," said Mr Shaw ; " you Oxford and Lanibndge gentlemen think you have examined every- ttong. I have examined very Uttle myself except the Dot^BS of old kettles and sancq^ans, but if you wfl answer me a few Questions. I will tdl you whether or no you have examined much more than I have." Ernast ^(pressed his readiness to be qnestkuied. o-P*°;. '^A ^ ^^' " »^ °» ^ »ton^ of the KMurrection of Jesus Christ as told m St John's gosfwl " I am sorry to say that Ernest mixed im the four aooounts m a dqjiorable manner ; he even made the angd cone down and roll away the stone and sit upoo it. He was covered with confusion when the tinker firet told him with- out the book of some of his many inaccuracies, and then ^ficd his cnticisms by referring to the New Testament " Now," said Mr Shaw good naturedly, " I am an old man and you are a young one, so perhaps you'll not mind my giving you a piece of advice. I like you, lor I believe »66 The Way of All Flesh m iiMia wdl, but yoa'ye been ml bad broi«lit op, and I don t think m have ever had to much at a chaaoe y«t Yon know nothing of our tide of the qoeatkm, and I hav« ]ntt thown you that yon do not know much more of your own. bot I think you win make a kind of Cariyle tort of a man tome dav. Now fo upttain and read the aooonntt of ue Rctarrectkm correctly without mixinK them up. and have a dear idea of what it it that each writer teOt m, then if you feel inclined to pay me another vitit I thaD be ^ to tee you, for I thalf know you have made a good beginning and mean butineit. Till then. Sir, I mutt with yon a very good morning." &n ett retreated abaihed. An hour tufficed him to perform the tatk enioined upon him by Mr Shaw ; and at the end of that hour the " No, no, no," whkh ttill M^ed in hit eart at he heard it from Towndey. came nnglnff up more budly ttill from the very paget of the Btble ittdf, and in retpect of the mott inuxMtant of all the ev entt w hich are recorded in it. SurdsrErnett't fint day*t attemt at more promitcuout vidting, and at carryiiw out hto mlndpiet more thorou|^y, had not been unfrStfuL But he mutt go and have a talk with Pryer. Hetbertfora pt hit lunch and went to Pryer't kxkina. IVyer not btfag at home, he bunged to the Britithlfneum Readioff Jw*5» *^f«i«ently opened, tent for the " Vcttigii of uealiaa, mach he had never yet teen, and tpent the iiat d tile afternoon in reading it. ■fy* *diiot tee Plryer on the day of hit convenMdoa mm Mr aMMr. but he cud to next morning and lomd Idm kiajood ♦ ■ Mil , which of late he had rardy been, Some- «Mt, indeed, lie had behaved to Emett in a way which did M* bode wdl for the harmony with which the College of Spintual Pathok)gy would work when it had once been founded. It almoat teemed at thoi^ he were trying to get a cconptete racnral aaceodency over him. to at to make kim a creature of hit own. He did not tWnk it potdWe that he could go too &r, and mMI. when I reflect iq>on my hcro't loOy and xnex- perioce, tbrnt it much to be taid in oKue for ^eoo* dutfen wfaidk Plryer came to. The Way of AU Flesh 267 rS5^5T5L W *?? *~ «^* *o ** •*»«*«> down an in l]5?5?*i7**i"?d ***~ wmlonwl Utdy mora than once. ARMtt bad fought luu^ against allowing himself to Me thik iien.ttek« any thiidoenon who knew the pair wodd hi^ be« able to see that the connection between the two might 22^«S'!J?*°°*"*'/2f-?''^ the time tor one of EraS^s wipjHke changes of «|^t CMie, he was quick to making ttrthe time, however, was not yet come, and the totimacy between ^ two was uypareatly aU that it had ever been. fclZSi??/ ?** ^^°^ '^"•y busfaess (so said Ernest to himself) that caused any unpleasantnsss between them. t^HL^^ S'y^ "^ '^^ •^ ^ Ernest, muS too ne rvous. However, that might stand over for the present. In Uks manner, thou^ he had received a shock by reason Verttgse. he was as yet too much stunned to realise the change which was coming over him. In each case the momentu m of old habits carried hhn forward to the old Tf^**^ ?? ^*''*°" <*^^ <» I*>7w» *nd spent an ho^ AIM more with mm. gy.^'^.yy that he h«d been visiting among his Jighbojw ; tWs to Prysr worid have beeHUTa i^ tonbul. Mi Mdy talked to amch his «SMi veto about tS JSSa** J?*!i, ?• l««rti*Ie wairt of intemt to I Sr.?^* kfadred matters; he oonchided by saylM that ' !SwSi'SS*bS"<£r''^~*"^'^^ "As regaitit.t^ laitv," said Pryer, " nothing ; not until ^ TJ* * ™»pBne ^Wiich we can enforce witii pains and penaltiM. How can a sheep dog work a flock of sheep imlcss he can bite occasionally as well as bark ? But u re^grds ouraelves we can do much." Fryer's manner was strange throughout the convcnatton. M though he were thinking all the time of something ^ Jul eyes wandered curiously over Ernest, as Ernest had wtennoticed them wander before : the words weie about Omrcli duapline, but somshow or other the disciphae :mww, a68 The Way of All Flesh Kof th« ttonp hid a knMk of droppinc oQt tftar toipfaw 41^ I S^ ^ •«»*■ «ni*»*tedly &dwid to apaty to tteW^ and not to the ckffy: onoo indMd VnSlmd V!^!^yj»f^»^i "Oil, bother the CoDift of %«tiud F»tholofy." At wfMdt the devgy. sUinpiM of apratty lane dmi hoof kept peq>ii« ont from under the eainay lobe of Pryer'f conTenatkm, to the efiect. that to loof aa they were theoratkaUy perfect, practical peccadmoe^ or ev«n peocadaodoa, fi there b eoch a word, w«e of IcM importanoe. He wai reitleie, aa though wantiiw to •Pproech a tabject whkh he did not quite venture to touch iipon, and kept harping (he did this about every third day) on tiie wretdied lack of definition ooncendng the Umits of vice and virtue, and the way in which half the vkee wanted regulating rather than prohibiting. He dwelt •HO on the advan«i«ee of complete unreMrve, and hinted that tiiere were mytteriee into which Emeet had not yet been initiated, but which would enlighten him when he got to know them, as he woukl be aUowed to do when his niaids saw that he waa strong enough. Pryer had often been like this before, but never so oeaily, as it seemed to Ernest, coming to a point— ^loagh wwt the point was he could not fuUy understand, mi wq^ide was communicating itself to Ernest, who woold probably ere k»g have come to know aa modi as Fkyw oouM tea him, but the conversation was abraptly hitaw rapted by the appearance of a visitor. Wa i&JD aavir niow how it would have ended, for this wm ths very Itit time that Ernest ever saw PiTer. Perhapa Ptyw was gofng to break to him some bad news abottt his iyeeii> The Way of All Flesh ^69 CHAPTER LX Kf i&^** '^•^ Allord'i notct upon Um viriow 2«w h*d told him^ and trying to find ont ^ttltt thS J^i£^?~*^ ^^ ^tfore had not thought of this particular point tiU he was actually m the pulpit, and had then been carried away by it. Another time he preached upon the barren fig-tree, and descnbed the hopes of the owner as he watched the deUcate bl^m ui^old, and give promise of such beautiful fruit in autumn. Next day he received a letter from a botanical membCT of his congregation who explained to him that this could hM-dly have been, inasmuch as the fig produces its irmt first and blossoms inside the fiiiit, or so nearly so that no flower is perceptible to an ordinary observer. This last however, was an accident which might have happened to any one but a scientist or an inspired writer. The only excuse I can make for him is that he was very young—not yet four and twenty— and that in mind as in body hke most of those who in the end come to think tor themselves, he was a slow grower. By far the greater The Way of AH Flesh 273 part, moreover, of his education had been an attemnt ««♦ Mi^^Mfiff^Tu^i^ *i°'^- " transpired afterwards that Miss Maitland had had no intention of giving Ern«t in charge when she ran out of Mra Jupp's Kf Shfw^ nmni^ away because she was frightened: buTalmost Z first person whom she ran against had happened to bTa r^DutS tr 'T^^*' '^S ^' ™"^' ^h« w^Ld to gjS a S !? ^"^ »^.V,^*y- He stopped her. questioned her Jaral^d^tr r„ -b^ ^ '"^ ^^^° ^" ^^-^^ ^o mlTm7 "JT?^ i" **i* J"PP'* ^«"^ ^hen the poUce- man came. He had heard a disturbance, and going doii J° ^™?* V^"* ^*^"* M»^ Maitland was oS of d^rs h2S found hrni lymg as it were, stunned at the foot ofTe mor^ ffS'f "Z^' ^^'*^ ^^ ^^^ th*t moment faUen H^^w the whole thing at a glance, but before he could take act^iT the pohcemen came in and action became impoL^ble ' He asked Ernest who were his friends in LonST Ernest uJ^r^r'^'f^ ?°K* *° ^y* ^"* Towneley iTn gaie £S to understand that he must do as he was bid. ^d sdS^ E^-Sf ?f« \* saidTowneley. " Does he write comedy?" Em^t thought Towneley meant that I ought to write tragedy, and said he was afraid I wroto burl Jque •'Oh S!f l'°T ^^ ^^^^^y' " *^^t will SSI^ously I JoU go and see him at once." But on second thoughts he de ermmed to stay with Ernest and go withS to the pohce court. So he sent Mrs Jupp for me ^ Tuon humed so fast to fetch me. that ii^ spite o? the w2iW? toSf^s'^Th''^ was ''giving out.'?as ^e^pT^tt m streams. The poor old wretch would have taken a cab but she had no money and did not Kke to ask TowSde^to hantifLTf- ^ "^r *^* something very seri2^ C Ldf^ T "^^ "?* P,1;^P^^ ^*^^ anything'^so deploraWe as what Mrs Jupp actuaUy told me. As for Mrs Tudd she 274 The Way of All Flesh I got her into a cab with me, and we went ofi to the police station. She talked without ceasing. " And if the neighbours do say cruel things about me, I'm sure it ain't no thanks to him if they're true. Mr Pontifex never took a bit o' notice of me no more than if I had been his sister. Oh, it's enough to make anyone's back bone curdle. Then I thought perhaps my Rose might get on better with him, so I set her to dust him and clean him as though I were busy, and gave her such a beautiful clean new pinny, but he never took no notice of her no more than he did of me, and she didn't want no comphment neither, she wouldn't have taken not a shUling from him, though he had offered it, but he didn't seem to know any- thing at all. I can't make out what the young men are a-coming to ; I wish the horn may blow for me and the worms take me this very night, if it's not enough to make a woman stand b^ore God and strike the one half on 'em silly to see the way they goes on, and many an honest girl has to go home night after night without so much as a fourpenny bit and paying three and sixpence a week rent, and not a shelf nor cupboard in the place and a dead wall in front of the window. " It's not Mr Pontifex," she continued, " that's so bad, he's good at heart. He never says nothing unkind, ^d then there's his dear eyes — ^but when I speak about that to my Rose she :a]ls me an old fool and says I ought to be poleaxed. It's that Fryer as I can't abide. Oh he ! He likes to wound a woman's feelings he do, and to chuck any- thing in her face, he do — ^he likes to wind a woman up and to woimd her down." (Mrs Jupp pronounced " wound " as though it rhymed to " sound.") " It's a gentieman's place to soothe a woman, but he, he'd like to tear her hair out by handfuls. Why, he told me to my face that I was a-getting old ; old indeed! there's not a woman in London knows my age except Mrs Davis down in the Old Kent Road, and beyond a haricot vein in one of my legs I'm as young as ever I was. Old indeed ! There's many a good tune played on an old fiddle. I hate his nasty insinuendos." Even if I had wanted to stop her, I could not have done The Way of All Flesh 275 JO. She said a great deal more than I have given above, 1 have left out much because I could not remember it, t>ut stm more because it was reaUy impossible for me to pnnt it. When we got to the pohce station I found Towneley and Ernest already there. The charge was one of assault, but not aggravated by serious violence. Even so, however, It was lamentable enough, and we both saw that our young fnend would have to pay dearly for his inexperience. We tned to baU hrai out for the night, but the Inspector would not accept bail, so we were forced to leave him. Towneley then went back to Mrs Jupp's to see if he could find Miss Maitland and arrange matters with her. She was not there, but he traced her to the house of her father, who hved at Camberwell. The father was furious and would not hear of any mtercession on Towneley's part. He was a Dissenter, and glad to make the most of any scandal against a clergyman ; Towneley, therefore, was obliged to return unsuccessful. Next morning, Towneley — who regarded Ernest as a drownmg man, who must be picked out of the water some- how or other if possible, irrespective of the way in which he got into it--called on me, and we put the matter into the nands of one of the best known attorneys of the day. I was peatly pleased with Towneley, and thought it due to him to teU him what I had told no one else. I mean that Ernest would come into his aunt's money in a few years' time, and would therefore then be rich. *u^°^*?®y was doing all he could before this, but I knew that the knowledge I had hnparted to him would make him fed ^ though Ernest was more one of his own class, and Jad therefore a greater claim upon his good offices. As for iimest himself, his gratitude was g-eater than could be cxpres^ in words. I have heard him say that he can caU to mmd many moments, each one of which might well pass for the happiest of his Hfe, but that this night stands cleariy out ^ the most painful that he ever passed, yet so kind and coMiderate was Towneley that it was quite bearable. But with all the best wishes in the worid neither Towneley nor I could do much to help beyond giving our moral snp- 276 The Way of All Flesh port. Our attorney told us that the magistrate before whom Ernest would appear was very severe on cases oi this description, and that the fact of his being a clergyman would tell against him. " Ask for no remand," he said, " and make no defence. We will call Mr Pontifex's rector and you two gentlemen as witnesses for previous good character. These will be enough. Let us then make a profound apology and beg the magistrate to deal with the case sununarily instead of sending it for trial. If you can get this, believe me, your young friend will be better out of it than he has any right to expect." CHAPTER LXII This advice, besides being obviously sensible, would end in saving Ernest both time and suspense of mind, so we had no hesitation in adopting it. The case was called on about deven o'clock, but we got it adjourned till three, so as to give time for Ernest to set his affairs as straight as he could, and to execute a power of attorney enabling me to act for him as I should tlunk fit while he was in prison. Then all came out about Pryer and the College of Spiritual Pathology. Ernest had even greater difficulty in making a clean breast of this than he had had in telling us about Miss Maitland, but he told us all, and the upshot was that he had actually handed over to Pryer every half- penny that he then possessed with no other security than Pryer's I.O.U.'s for the amount. Ernest, though still declining to believe that Pryer could be guilty of dishonour- able conduct, was becoming alive to the folly of what he had been doing ; he still made sure, however, of recovering, at any rate, the greater part of his property as soon as Pryer should have had time to sdl. Towneley and I were of a different opinion, but we did not say what we thought. It was dreary work waiting all the morning amid such The Way of All Flesh 277 unfamiliar and depressing surroundings. I thought how the Psalmist had exclaimed with quiet irony, " One day in thy courts is better than a thousand," and I thought that I could utter a very similar sentiment in respect of the Courts in which Towneley and I were compelled to loiter. At last, about three o'clock the case was called on, and we went round to the part of the court which is re- served for the general public, while Ernest was taken into the prisoner's dock. As soon as he had collected himself sufficiently he recognised the magistrate as the old gentle- man who had spoken to him in the train on the day he was leaving school, and saw, or thought he saw, to his great grief, that he too was recognised. Mr Ottery, for this was our attorney's name, took the line he had proposed. He called no other witnesses than the rector, Towneley and myself, and threw himself on the mercy of the magistrate. When he had concluded, the magistrate spoke as follows : " Ernest Pontifex, yours is one of the most painful cases that I have ever had to deal with. You have been singularly favoured in your parent- age and education. You have had before you the example of blameless parents, who doubtless instilled into you from childhood the enormity of the offence which by your own confession you have committed. You were sent to one of the best public schools in England. It is not likely that in the healthy atmosphere of such a school as Rough- borough you can have come across contaminating in- fluences; you were probably, I may say certainly, im- pressed at school with the heinousness of any attempt to depart from the strictest chastity until such time as you had entered into a state of matrimony. At Cambridge you were shielded from impurity by every obstacle which virtuous and vigilant authorities could devise, and even had the obstacles been fewer, your parents probably took care that your means should not admit of your throwing money away upon abandoned characters. At night proctors pa- trolled the street and dogged your steps if you tried to go into any haunt where the presence of vice was suspected. By day the females who were admitted within the college walls were selected mainly on the score of age and ugliness. 278 The Way of All Flesh It is hard to see what more can be done for any young man than this. For the last four or five months 3rou have been a clergyman, and if a single impure thought had staU re- mained within your mind, ordination should have removed it : nevertheless, not only does it appear that your mind is as impure as though none of the influences to which I have referred had been brought to bear upon it, but it seems as though their only result had bron tlus— that you have not even the common sense to be able to dutinguisb between a respectable girl and a prostitute. *' If I were to take a strict view of my duty I should commit you for tiial, but in consideration of this being your first offence, I shall deal leniently with you and sei^ tence you to imprisonment with hard labour for six calendar montlu." Townele^ and I both thought there was a touch of irony in the magistrate's speech, and that he could have given a lighter sentence if tie would, but that was neither here nor there. We obtained leave to see Ernest for a few minutes before he was removed to Coldbath Fields, where he was to serve his term, and found him so thankful to have hetn summarily dealt with that he hardly seemed to care about the miserable plight in which he was to pass the next six months. When he came out, he said, he would take what remained of his money, go off to America or Australia and never be heard of more. We left him full of this resolve, I, to write to Theobald, and also to instruct my solicitor to get Ernest's money out of Fryer's hands, and Towneley to see the reporters and keep the case out of the newspapers. He was successful as regards all the higher-class papers. There was only one journal, and that of the lowest class» which was in* corruptible. The Way of All Flesh 279 « 1^ CHAPTER LXIII I SAW my solicitor at once, but when I tried to write to Theobald, I found it better to say I would run down and see him. I therefore proposed this, asking him to meet me at the station, and hinting that I must bring bad news about his son. I knew he would not get my letter more than a couple of hours before I should see him, and thought the short mterval of suspense might break the shock of what I had to say. Never do I remember to have halted more between two opinions than on my journey to Battersby upon this un- happy errand. When I thought of the little sallow-faced laa whom I had remembered years before, of the long and savage cruelty with which he had been treated in child- hood— crudty none the less real for having been due to ignorance and stupidity rather than to deliberate msUice ; of iJie atmosphere of lying and self-laudatory hallucination In which he had been brought up ; of the readiness the boy had shown to love anythmg that would be good enough to let him, and of how affection for his parents, unless I am much mUtaken, had only died in him because it had been killed anew, again and again and again, each time that it had tried to spring. When I thought of all this I felt ai though, if the matter had rested with me, I would hav« sentenced Theobald and Christina to mental suffering even more severe than that which was about to fall upon them. But on the other hand, when I thought of Theobald's own childhood, of that dreadful old George Pontifex his father, of John and Mrs John, and of his two sisters, when again I thought of Christina's long years of hope defored that mAketh the heart sick, before she was married, of the Ufe she must have led at Crampsford, and of the surroundir^ , in the midst of which she and her husband both lived at Battorsby, I felt as though the wonder was that mis- fortunes so persistent had not been followed by even graver retribution. «8o The Way of All Flesh Poor people I They had tried to keep their ignorance of the worid from themselves by calling it the pursuit of heavenly things, and then shutting their eyes to anything that might give them trouble. / son having been bom to them they had shut his eyes also as far as was practicable. Who could blame them ? They had chapter and verae for everything they had either done or left undone ; there is no better thumbed precedent than that for being a clergyman and a clergyman's wife. In whai respect had they differed from their neighbours? How cUd their household differ from that of any other clergyman of the better sort from one end of England to the other ? Why then should it have been upon them, of all people in the world, that this tower of Siloam had fallen ? Surely it was the tower of Siloam that was naught rather than those who stood under it ; it was the system rather than the people that was at fault. If Theobald and his wife had but knowh more of the world and of the things that are therein, they would have done little harm to any- one. Selfish they would have always been, but not more so than may venr well be pardoned, and not more than other people would be. As it was, the case was hopeless ; it would be no use their even entering into their mothers' wombs and being bom again. They must not only be bom again but they must be bom again each one of them of a new father and of a new mother and of a different line of ancestry for many generations before their minds could become supple enough to leam anew. The only thing to do with them was to humour them and make the best of them till they died— and be thankful when they did 80. Theobald got my letter as I had expected, and met me at the station nearest to Battersby. As I walked back with him towards his own house I broke the news to him as gently as I could. I pretended that the whole thing was in great measure a mistake, and that though Ernest no doubt had had intentions which he ought to have re- sisted, he had not meant going anything like the loigth which Miss Maitland supposed. I said we had fdt how much appearances were against him, and had not dared The Way of All Flesh 281 to let up this defence before the magistrate, though wt had no (foubt about its being the trae one. Theobald acted with a readier and acuter moral sense than I had given him credit for. " I will have nothing more to do with him," he ex- claimed promptly, " I will never see his face again ; do not let him write either to me or to his mother ; we know ol no such person. Tell him you have seen me, and that fn*m this day forward I shall put him out of my mind as though he had never been bom. I have been a good father to him, and his mother idolised him ; selfishness and in* Satitude have been the only return we have ever had from m; my hope henceforth must be in my remaining children.'^ I told him how Ernest's fellow curate h *d got hold of his money, and hinted that he might very likely be penniless, or nearly so, on leaving prison. Theobald did not seem dis- pleased at this, but added soon afterwards : " If this proves to be the case, tell him from me that I will give him a hundred pounds if he will teU me through vou when he will have it paid, but tell him not to write and thank me, and say that if he attempts to open up direct communication eiUier with his mother or myself, he shall not have a penny of the money." Knowing what I knew, and having determined on viola- ting Miss Pontifex's instructions should the occasion arise, I did not think Ernest would be any the worse for a com- plete estrangement from his family, so I acquiesced more readily in what Theobald had proposed than that gentle- man may have expected. Thinking it better that I diould not see Christina, I left Theobald near Battersby and walked back to the station. On my way I was pleased to reflect that Ernest's father was less of a fool than I had taken him to be, and had the greater hopes, therefore, that his son's blunders might be -due to postnatal, rather than congenital misfortunes. Accidents which happen to a man before he is bom, in the persons of his ancestors, will, if he rememb«s them at all, leave an indelible impression on him ; they will have moulded his character so that, do what he will, it is hardly 282 The Way of All Flesh rMiUe for him to escape their consequences. If a man to enter mto the Kingdom of Heaven, he must do so. not only as a litUe child, but as a litUe embryo, or rather as a httie loosperm— and not only this, but as one that has coine of zoosperms which have entered into the Kingdom of Heaven before him for many generations. Accidents which occur for the first time, and bdong to the period smce a man's last birth, are not, as a general rule, so per- manent m their effects, though of course they may some- times be 80. At any rate, I was not displeased at the view which Ernest's father took of the situation. CHAPTER LXIV After Ernest had been sentenced, he was t iken back to the cells to wait for the van which should take him to Coldbath Fields, where he was to serve his term. He was stiU too stunned and dazed by the suddenness with which events had happened during the last twenty- fom- hours to be able to realise his position. Agreatchawi toad opened between his past and future ; nevertheless he breathed, his pulse beat, he could think and speak. It seemed to him that he ought to be prostrated by the blow that had faUen on him, but he was not prostrated ; he had suffered from many smaller laches far more acutely. It was not until he thought of the pain his disgrace would inflict on his father and mother that he felt how readily he would have given up aU he had, rather than have fien into his present plight. It would break his mother's heart. It must, he knew it would— and it was he who had done this. He had had a headache coming on aU the forenoon, but as he thought of his father and mother, his pulse quickened, and the pam m his head suddenly became intense. He could hardly walk to the van, and he found its motion in- supportable. On reaching the prison he was too ill to walk without assistance across the haU to the corridor or gaUery The Way of AH Flesh 283 where prisoners are marshalled on their arrival. The prison warder, seeing at once that he was a clergyman, did not suppose he was shamming, as he might have done in the case of an old gaol-bird ; he therefore sent for the doctor. When this gentleman arrived, Ernest was declared to be suffering from an incipient attack of brain fever, and was taken away to the infirmary. Here he hovered for the next two months between life and death, never in full possession of his reason and often delirious, but at last, contrary to the expectation of both doctor and nurse, he began slowly to recover. It is said that those who have been nearly drowned, find the return to consciousness much more painful than the loss of it had been, and so it was with my hero. As he lay helpless and feeble, it seemed to him a refinement of cruelty that he had not died once for all during his delirium. He thought he should still most likely recover only to sink a Uttle later on from shame and sorrow ; nevertheless from day to day he mended, though so slowly that he could hardly realise it to himself. One afternoon, however, about three weeks after he had regained consciousness, the nurse who tended him, and who had been very kind to him, made some little rallying sally which amused him ; he laughed, and as he did so, she clapped her hands and told him he would be a man again. The spark of hope was kindled, and again he wished to live. Ahnost from that moment his thoughts began to turn less to the horrors of the past, and more to the best way of meeting the future. His worst pain was on behalf of his father and mother, and how he should again face them. It still seemed to him that the best thing both for him and them would be that he should sever himself from them completely, take whatever money he could recover from Pryer, and go to some place in the uttermost parts of the earth, where he should never meet anyone who had known him at school or college, and start afresh. Or perhaps he might go to the gold fields in California or Australia, of which such wonderful accounts were then heard ; there he might even make his fortune, and return as aa old man many years hence, unknown to everyone, and if so, h« would live at Cambridge. As he 284 The Way of AU Flesh S^ to SSt°"^ '*"'""•'»<» "Pi'ed. WM not afte at^thadffi.„T™' ^""^r^^J^i^^ck L rejoiced ing the Death Ra^™« j a "* *"® ®*°"«s concern- *yped off him once and for ever. The tovSSn he ESrB'S^^-^ve^.'^etS ^etm?^ T"^'^' '^^ tJaraSt*t*dtS; doudfi infn fj,^"' *°*^ ^^'^ """^^ from earth through bi^^nt ^ tf ""' '°^A°*^* "°^ »^ accepted by uS in one Jgyo^ ^otho" it was sure to meet him sooner or iater. He would probably have seen it years ago if he hS The Way of All Flesh 285 not been hoodwinked by people who were paid for hood- winking him. What should he have done, he asked hii& self, if he had not made his present discovery till years later when he was more deeply committed to the life of a clergy- man ? Should he have had the courage to face it, or would he not more probably have evolved some excellent reason for continuing to think as he had thought hitherto ? Should he have had the courage to break away even from his present curacy ? He thought not, and knew not whether to be more thankful for having been shown his error or for having been caught up and twisted round so that he coiUd hardly err farther, almost at the very moment of his having dis- covered it. The price he had had to pay for this boon was light as compared with the boon itself. What is too h«avy a price to pay for having duty made at once clear and easy of fulfilment instead of very difficult ? He was sorry for his father and mother, and he was sorry for Miss Maitland, but he was no longer sorry for himself. It puzzled him, however, that he should not have known how much he had hated being a clergyman till now. He knew that he did not particularly Uke it, but if anyone had asked him whether he actually hated it, he would have answered no. I suppose people almost always want some- thing external to themselves, to reveal to them their own likes and dislikes. Our most assured likings have for the most part been arrived at neither by introspection nor by any process of conscious reasoning, but by the bounding forth of the heart to welcome the gospel proclaimed to it by another. We hear some say that such and such a thing is thus or thus, and in a moment the train that has been laid within us, but whose presence we knew not, flashes into consciousness and perception. Only a year ago he had bounded forth to welcome Mr Hawke's sermon; since then he had bounded after a College of Spiritual Pathology; now he was in full cry after rationalism pure and silnple ; how could he be sure that his present state of mind woidd be more lasting than his previous ones ? He could not be certain, but he felt as though he were now on firmer ground than he had ever 286 The Way of All Flesh ^creLidt?^nJS'fl°'^.*° ^'^^' »"d to act up to UDrSrX,r^"'T*""' ' J^ combination 4aSt CHAPTER LXV Hn« f h. hIJ^^ ?l °° ^^^ criterion than thii, but Xt does tne decision thus arrived at invr^ii^. > c^ i ^rr^ The Way of All Flesh 287 .-^Tif*!^v?°^*^^^«^*Pe from this conclusion. He •aw that behef on the part of the early ChristSs i^ the noijiculous nature of Christ's Resurrection was^uTable! j;?^"*hf ^ supposition of miracle. The explanation lay under the ey^ of anyone who chose to take a moderate and agam, and there had been no serious attempt to refute made the New Testament his speciaUty, wuld not or to ^ \>^o ^? -f y °*^'' [^^" ^^ t^t he did not want £,??> V 1*1 ^ "^^ ^® '^^^ * ^^to"^ to the cause of Ko ^^'^"*^^^^: not also a respectable and success- sScc^fij r^pn ^^ °w^^ ""^^ "?^j°"*y ^'^ r«»pectable and irrhS!i^ !,"'• ^""^^ ^""^ example, as aU the bishops and archbishops domg exacUy as Dean Alford did. and did not this make their action right, no matter though it h^ bSm ca^^m or mfanticide, or even habitual Sntruthful^ n«?*r^^°"^^ u^°"^, falsehood I Ernest's feeble pulse quickened and his pale face flushed as this hateful viewof We presented itself to him in all its loricaf SSsiSj il!!^*^"*^* ^' ^S"*. "i °*°** °^«° being iLs that^S hm^that was ^ nght enough ; b^ven the momenta^ doubt whether the few who were not liars ought not to iS- come hars too. There was no hope left if this were j^ rf this were «) let him die. the sooner the better. "Lord." he exdaim^ mwardly, " I don't beUeve one word of it strengthen Thou and confirm my disbeUef ." It seemed to him that he could never henceforth see a bishop going to consecration without saying to himself : " There, but for the grace of God, went Ernest Pontifex." It was no doing Chnst he might himself have been an early Christia. ,r tlt*?^^^^^ ^""^ *"6^* ^^ ^ew. On the whole he telt that he had much to be thankful for. erro^tlS'nf "^K°'K*^?i u*^M* "^S^* ^ ^"er to believe error than truth, should be ordered out of court at once, no " " ' ■ I 288 The Way of All Flesh matter by how clear a logic it had been arrived at ; but what was the alternative ? It was this, that our criterion of truth — i.e. that truth is what commends itself to the preat majority of sensible and successful people—is not mfallible. The rule is sound, and covers by far the greater number of cases, but it has its exceptions. He asked himself, what were they ? Ah I that was a difficult matter ; there were so many, and the rules which governed them were sometimes so subtle, that mistakes always had and always would be made ; it was just this that made it impossible to reduce life to an exact science. There was a rough and ready rule-of-thumb test of truth, and a number of rules as regards exceptions which could be mastered without much trouble, yet there was a residue of cases in which decision was difficult— so difficult that a man had better follow his instinct than attempt to decide them by any process of reasoning. Instinct theri is the ultimate court of appeal. And what is instinct ? It is a mode of faith in the evidence of things not actually seen. And so my hero returned almost to the point from which he had started originsdly, namely that the just shall live by faith. And this is what the just— that is to say reasonable people— do as r^ards those daily affairs of life which most conceni them. They settle smaller matters by the exercise of their own deliberation. More important ones, such as the cure of their own bodies and the bodies of those whom they love, the investment of their money, the extrication of their affairs from any serious mess— these things they generally entrust to others of whose capacity they know little save from general report ; they act therefore on the strength of faith, not of knowledge. So the English nation entrusts the welfare of its fleet and navd defences to a First Lord of the Admiralty, who, not being a sailor can know nothing about these matters except by acts of faith. There can be no doubt about faith and not reason being the ultima ratio. Even Euclid, who has laid himself as little open to the charge of credulity as any writer who ever lived, cannot get beyond this. He has no demonstrable first premise. Here- The Way of All Flesh 289 3^ P?*"?i*«* »nl»^op» which transcend demonstn. tion, and without which he can do nothing. His super- structure indeed is demonstration, but his ground is faS. Nor agam can he get further than teUing a man he is a fool if he persists in differing from him. He says " which p»2S*'^*i °S? i^"Sf* 1° ^^"^ *^« °»"er further. Faith and authonty, therefore, prove to be as necessary lor liim as for anyone else. " By faith in what then ^' asked Ernest of himself, " shaU a just man endeavour to live at this present time ? " He answered to himself, " At any rate not by faith in the supernatural element of the Cnnstian religion. And how should he best persuade his feUow-country- men to leave of! believing in this supernatural element ? Looking at the matter from a practical point of view he thought the Archbishop of Canterbury afforded the most pronusmg key to the situation. It lay between him and the Fope. The Pope was perhaps best in theory, but in pi actice the Archbishop of Canterbury would do sufficiently well. If he could only manage to sprinkle a pinch of salt as It were, on the Archbishop's tail, he might cu,vert the vjole Church of England to free thought by a coup de main. lliCTe must be an amount of cogency which even an Arch- bishop—an Archbishop whose perceptions had never been qmckoied by unprisonment for assault—would not be able to withstand. When brought face to face with the facts as he, Ernest, could arrange tiiem, his Grace would have no resot^ce but to admit them ; being an honourable man he would at once resign his Archbishopric, and Christianity would bwome extinct m England within a few months' nS: 1°"' ** *°y "^tC' was how tilings ought to be. But au tne time Ernest had no confidence in the Archbishop's not hoppmg off just as tiie pincii was about to fall on him. and this seemed so unfair that his blood boiled at the thought of it. If this was to be so, he must try if he could not fix him by the judicious use of bird-lime or a «^\OTihiow tile salt on his taU from an ambuscade. To do him justice it was not himself tiiat he greatiy cared about. He knew he had boen humbugged, and he knew also tiiat the greater part of the ills which had afflicted him I f; I a9o The Way of All Flesh were dne, indirectly, in chief measure to the influence of Christian teaching ; still, if the mischief had ended with himself, he should have thought little about it, but there was his sister, and his brother Joey, and the hundreds and thousands of voung people throughout England whose Uves were being blighted through the lies told them by people whose business it was to know better, but who scamped their work and shirked difficulties instead of facing them. It was this which made him think it worth while to be angry, and to consider whether he could not at least do something towards saving others from such years of waste and misery as he had had to pass himself. If there was no truth in the miraculous accounts of Christ's Death and Resurrection, the whole of the religion founded upon the historic truth of those events tumbled to the ground. •• Why," he exclaimed, with all the arrogance of youth, " they put a gipsv or fortune-teller into prison for getting money out of silly people who think they have super- natural power ; why should they not put a clergyman in Erison for pretending that he can absolve sins, or turn read and wine into the flesh and blood of One who died two thousand years ago ? What," he asked himself, " could be more pure ' hanky-panky ' than that a bishop should lay his hands upon a young man and pretend to convey to him the q)intual power to work this miracle ? It was all very well to talk about toleration ; toleration, like everything else, had its limits ; besides, if it was to include the bishop let it include the fortune-teller too." He would explain all this to the Archbishop of Canter- bury by and by, but as he could not get hold of him just now, it occurred to him that he might experimentalise advantageously upon the viler soul of the prison chaplain. It was only those who took the first and most obvious step in their power who ever did great thin^ in the end, so one day, when Mr Hughes— for this was the chaplain's name- was talking with him, Ernest introduced the question of Christian evidences, and tried to raise a discussion upon than. Mr Hughes had been very kind to him, but he was more than twice my hero's age, and had long taken the measure of such objections as Ernest tried to put before I The Way of All Flesh 291 Wm. I do not suppose he believed in the actual oblectivt truth of the stories about Christ's Resurrection and >£«. n^.?.^ " *;* than Ernest did. but he knew that tlS^^ Mr Hughes was a man who had been in authority for S?H"Lif "i '^^J'^^"^'^*^ E™t on one side as if hi !SJh^Wm fnr ♦»,^"*♦'^**?• ^^^l^onfined his convemtion with him for the future to such matters as what he had brttcr do when he got out of prison ; and here Mr Hughes was ever ready to hsten to him with sympathy and kind- CHAPTER LXVI Ernest was now so far convalescent as to be able to sit up for the greater part of the day. He had been three montlw m pnson, and, though not strong enough to leave the mfirmary was beyond aU fear of a relapsl. He wj talking one day with Mr Hughes about hiTfuture and ^ IS'^ % *!;[^"°" **' emigrating to Australia or vZr^^^ with the money he shoiJd recover from Pryer. Whenever he spoke of this he noticed that Mr Hughes looked grave and was silent : he had thought that perhaps the chaplain wanted him to return to h^prof«. sion, and disapproved of his evident anxiety to turn to something dse ; now. however, he asked Mr Hughes point blank why it was that he disapproved of his idia oiS grating. Mr Hughes endeavoured to evade him, but Ernest was not to be put off . There was something in the chaplain's manner which suggested that he knew more than fimest fWK!ii?'*"?*J*^*°.'^y,**- This alarmed him so much that he b^ed him not to keep him in suspense ; after a httle hesitation Mr Hughes, thinking hii noi sS«ig 292 The Way of All Flesh enough to stand it, broke the news ts cently as he could thatlhe whole of Ernest's money had disi^meared. The day aiter my return from Battersby I called on my solicitor, and was told that he had written to Pryer, requiring him to refund the monies for which he had given his I.O.U.'s. Pryer replied that he had given orders to his broker to close ms operations, which unfortimately had re- sulted so far in heavy loss, and that the balance should be paid to my solicitor on the following settling day, then about a week distant. When the time came, we heard nothhig from Pryer, and going to his lodgings found that he had left with his few efiects on the very day after he had heard from us, and had not been seen since. I had heard from Ernest the name of the broker who had been employed, and went at once to see him. He told me Pryer had closed all his accounts for cash on the day that Ernest had been sentenced, and had received £23x5, which was all that remained of Ernest's original £5000. With this he had decamped, nor had we enough clue as to his whereabouts to be able to take any steps to recover the money. There was in fact nothing to be done but to consider the whole as lost. I may say here that neither I nor Ernest ever heard of Pryer again, nor have any idea what became of him. This placed me in a difficult position. I knew, of course, that in a few years Ernest would have many times over as mudi money as he had lost, but I knew also that he did not know tibis, and feared that the supposed loss of all he had in the world might be more thim he could stand when coupled with his other misfortunes. The prison authorities had found Theobald's address from a letter in Ernest's pocket, and had communicated witii him more than once concerning his son's illness, but Theobald had not written to me, and I supposed my godson to be in good health. He would be just twenty-four years old when he left prison, and if I followed out his aunt's instructions, would have to battle with fortune for another four years as well as he could. The question before me was whether it was right to let him run so much risk, or whether I should not to some extent transgress my in- The Way of All Flesh 293 •t«yctioii»--wliich there was nothing to prevent my A^^" U I thought MiM Pontifex would have wished it-indlet mm have the same sum that he would have recovered from iTver. If my godson had been an older man, and more fixed in any definite groove, this is what I should have done, but be was still very young, and more than commonly unformed for his age. If, again, I had known of his illness I should not have dared to lay any heavier burden on his back ttan he had to bear already ; but not being uneas- about nis health, I thought a few years of roughing it and of experience concerning the importance of not playing mcks with money would do him no harm. Soldeadcdto kem a shaip eye upon him as soon as he came out of prison, ajd to let him splash about in deep water as best he could till I saw whether he was able to swim, or was about to sink, m the first case I would let him go on swimming till he was nearly eight-and-twenty, when I womd prepare him gradually for the good fortune that awaited him ; in the second! wo- d hurry up to the rescue. So I wrote to say that ftyer iad absconded, and that he could have /loo from his ff Jier when he came out of prison. I then waited to see what effect these tidings would i, not expecting to receive an answer for three month for I had beS txM on enquiry that no letter could be received by a pnsoner till after he had been three months in gaol. I also wrote to Theobald and told him of Fryer's diippear- As a matter of fact, when my letter arrived the governor 01 tne gaol read it, and in a case of such importance would have relaxed the rules if Ernest's state had allowed it ; his Illness prevented this, and the governor left it to the chaplam and the doctor to break the news to him when they thought him strong enough to bear it, which was now the case. In the meantime I received a formal official document saying that my letter had been received and would be communicated to the prisoner in due course ; I bdieve it was simply through a mistake on the part of a clerk that I was not informed of Ernest's illness, but I beard nothing of it till I saw him by his own desire a few 294 Tlie Way of All Flesh days after Um chapUn had broken to him the tabetance ol what I had written. Emcat waa terribly shocked when he heard of the loMof his money, but his ignorance of the world prevented him from seeing the full extent of the mischief. He had never been in serious want of money yet, and did not Imow what 4-41 meant. In reality, money losses are the hardest to bear of any by thMe who are old enouf^ to comprehend them. A man can stand being told that hs must submit to a severe surgical operation, or that he has some disease which will shortly kill him, or that he will be a cripple or blind for the rest of his life ; dreadful as such tidings must be, we do not find that they unnerve the greater number of mankind ; most men, indeed, go coolly enough even to be hanged, but the strongest quail before financial ruin, and the better men they are, the more complete, as a general rule, is, their prostration. Suidde is a common consequence of money losses ; it is rarely sought as a meina of escape from bodilv suffering. If we feel that we have a competence at our backs, so that we can die warm and quietly in our beds, with no need to worry about expense, we live our lives out to the dregs, no matter how excrucia> ting cur torments. Job probably felt the loss of his flocks and herds more than that of his wife and fanuly, for he could enjoy his flocks and herds without his family, but not his family— not for long— if he had lost all hu money. Loss of money indeed is not only the worst pain in itsdf, but it is the parent of all others. Let a man have been brought up to a moderate competence, and have no specialty; then let his money be suddenly taken from him, and how long is his health likely to survive the change in all his Utile ways which loss of money will entail ? How long again is the esteem and sympathy of friends likely to survive ruin ? People may be very sorry for us, but their attitude towards us hitherto has been based upon the supposition that we were situated thus or thus in money matters ; whe*- this breaks down there must be a restatement of the so^ J problem so far as we are con< cemed; we have been obtaining esteem under false The Way of All Flesh 295 nntmcm. Granted, then, that the three most terioua louet which a man can suffer are those affecting money, health and reputation. Lota of money is far the worst, then comes ill>health, and then loss of reputation ; loss of reputation is a bad third, for, if a man iceeps health and money unimpaired, it will be generally found that his loss of reputation b due to breaches of parvenu conven- tions only, and not to violations of those older, better established canons whose authority is unquestionable. In this case a man may grow a new reputation as easily as a lobster grows a new claw, or, if he have health and money, may thrive in great peace of mind without any reputation at all. The only chance for a man who hiw lost his money is that he snail still be yoiuig enough to stand uprootmg and transplanting without more than temporary denmgement, and this I bdieved my godson •till to be. By the prison rules he might receive and send a letter after he had been in gaol three months, and might also receive one visit from a friend. When he received my kttei, at once asked me to come and see him, which of course did. I found him very much changed, and still 10 feeble, that the exertion of coming from the infirmary to the cdl in which I was allowed to see him, and the agitation of seeing me were too much for him. At first be quite broke down, and I was so pained at the state in which I found him, that I was on the point of bresddng my instructions then and there. I contented myself, however, for the time, with assuring him that I would hdp him as soon as he came out of prison, and that, when he had made up his mind what he would do, he Was to come to me for what money might be necessary, ; if he could not get it from his father. To make it easier for him I told him that his aunt, on her deathb^ had desired me to do something of this sort should "an emergency arise, so that he would only be taking what bis aunt had left him. " Then," said he, " I will not take the £100 from my fother, and I wUl never see him or my mother again." I said: "Take the ^100, Ernest, and as much more as :m I 896 The Way of All Flesh you can get, and then do not see them again if you do not Thia Erneat would not do. If he took money from them, ne could not cut them, and he wanted to cut them. I thought mv «}dion would get on a great deal better If he would only have the firmness to do at he proposed, at regarda breaking completely with his father and mSher^ and sa^d to. " Then don't you like them?" taid he with a look of surprise. ;; Like them I '* taid I, " I think they're horrid." Oh, that t the kindett thing of rII you have done for me, he exclaimed, I thought all— all middle-aged people liked my father and mother." *^*^ He had been about to call me old, but I wat only fifty- leven, and was not going to have this, so I made a face when I taw him hetitaUng, which drove him into " middle- aged. JUi ^" "H.* **iL' •*^li '• " ^ ^*" ^y '^^ y«"«" '*»n»y «re Horrid except yourself and your aunt AleUiea. The greater part of every family is always odiout ; if there are one or two good onet in a very large family, it it at much at can be expected." " Thank you," he replied, gratefuUy, " I think I can now ttand almott anything. I will come and tee you at wT*!?^ "^IS? ?"A°'.?*'*^ ,,Goodbve." For the Warder Had told ut that the time allowed for our interview waa at an end. lil CHAPTER LXVII As toon at Ernest found that he had no money to look to upon leaving prison he saw that his dreams about emigratiiig and farming must come to an end, for he knew that he was Incapable of working at the plough or with the axe for lom together lumself. And now it seemed he tliould have no money to nay any one else for doing to. It wat thit that retolved him to part once and for aU with hit parcntt. If The Way of AH Flesh 297 h« had been going abroad he could have kept up relationa with them, (or they would have been too far on to inter* fere with him. He knew his father and mother would object to being cut ; they would wish to appear kind and forgiving ; they would alio dislike having no furtlier |X)wer to nlague liim ; but he knew also very well that so long as he and they ran in hameu together they would bo always puUinff one way and he another. He wanted to drop the gentleman and go down into the ranks, beginning on the lowest rung of the ladder, where no one would know of his disgrace or mind it if he did know ; his father and mother on the other hand would wish him to clutch on to the fag-end of gentility at a starvation salary and with no prosnoct of advancement. Ernest had seen enough in Ashpit Place to know that a tailor, if he did not drink and attended to his business, could earn more money than a clerk or a curate, while much less expense by way of show was required of him. The tailor also had more liberty, and a better chance of rising. Ernest resolved at once, as he had fallen so far. to fall still lower— promptly, gracefully and with the idea of rising again, rather than cling to the skirts of a res|)ecta- bility which would permit him to exist on sufferance only, and make him pay an utterly extortionate price for an article which he could do better without. He arrived at this result more quickly than he might otherwise have done through remembering something he had once heard his aunt say about " kissing the soil." This had impressed him and stuck by him perhaps by reason of its brevity ; when later on ho came to know the story of Hercules and Antteus, he found it one of the very few ancient fables which had a hold over him— his chiefest debt to classical literature. His aunt had wanted him to learn carpentering, as a means of kissing the soil should his Hercules ever throw him. It was too late for this now-~ or he thought it was— but the mode of carrying out his aunt's idea was a detail ; there were a hundred ways of kissing the soil besides becoming a carpenter. He nad told me this during our interview, and I had encouraged him to the utmost of my power. He tbow«d 298 The Way of All Flesh JO mach more good sense than I had given him credit for that I became comparatively easy about him, and deter- mmed to let him play his own game, bdng always, how- ever, ready to hand in case things went too far wrong. It fns not simply because he disliked his father and mother ttat he wanted to have no more to do with them ; if it had been only this he would have put up with them ; but a warning voice within told him distinctly enough that if he was clean cut away from them he might stiU have a chance of success, whereas if they had anything what- ever to do with him, or even knew where he was, they would Immper him and in the end ruin him. Absolute mdependence he believed to be his only chance of verv life itself. ^ Over and above this— if this were not enough—Ernest had a faith m his own destiny such as most young men, I suppose, feel, but the grounds of which were not apparent to any one buf himself. RighUy or wrongly, in a qr ;t way he beheved he possessed a strength which, if he were only free to use it in his own way, might do great tUngs some day. He did not know when, nor where, nor how his opportumty was to come, but he never doubted that it would come in spite of all that had happened, and above all else he cherished the hope that he might know how to seize it if It came, for whatever it was it would be some- thing that no one else could do so well as he could. People said thwe were no dragons and giants for adventurous men to fight with nowadays ; it was beginning to dawn upon him that there were just as many now as at any past time. ' '^ Monstrous as such a faith may seem in one who was quahfying himself for a high mission by a term of im- pnsonment, he could no more help it than he could help breathmg ; it was innate in him, and it was even more with a view to this than for other reasons that he wished to sever the connection between himself and his parents- for he Imew that if ever the day came in which it should app^ that before him too there was a race set in which It might be an honour to have run among the foremost his father and mother would be the first to let him and The Way of All Flesh 299 hinder him in running it. They had been the first to say that he ought to run such a race ; they would also be the first to trip him up if he took them at their word, and then afterwards upbraid him for not having won. Achieve- ment of any kind would be impossible for him unless he was free from those who would be for ever dragging him back into the conventional. The conventional had been tried already and had been found wanting. He had an opportunity now, if he diose to take it, of escaping once for all from those who at once tormented him and would hold him earthward should a chance of soaring open before him. He should never have had it but for Ms imprisonment ; but for this the force of habit and routine would have been too strong for him.{ he should hardly have had if it he had not lost all his money ; the gap would not have been so wide but that he might have been inclined to throw a plank across it. He rejoiced now, therefore, over his loss of money as well as over his imprisonment, which had made it more easy for him to follow his truest and most lasting interests. At times he wavered, when he thought of how his mother, who in her way, as he thought, had loved him, would weep and think sadly over him, or how p haps she might even fall ill and die, and how the blame would rest with him. At these times his resolution was near brealdng, but when he found I applauded his design, the voice within, which bade him see his father's and mother's faces no more, grew louder and more persistent. If he could not cut himself adrift from those who he knew would hamper him, when so small an effort was wanted, his dream of a destiny was idle ; what was the prospect of a hundred poimds from his father in comparison widi jeopardy to thL ? He still felt deeply the pain his disgrace had inflicted upon his father and mother, but he was getting stronger, and re* fleeted that as he had run his chance with them for parents, so they must run theirs with him for a son. He had nearly settled down to this conclusion whe he received a letter from his father which made his dec? (on final. If the prison rules had been interpreted strl dy, he would not have been allowed to have this letter foi 300 The Way of All Flesh another three months, as he had already heard from me^ bat the governor took a lenient view, and considered tht letter from me to be a business communication hardly coming under the category of a letter from friends. Theo- bald's letter therefore was given to his son. It ran as follows : — " My dear Ernest, My object in writmg b not to upbraid jrou with the disgrace and shame you have inflicted upon Jour mother and myself, to say nothing of your brother oey, and your sister. Suffer of course we must, but we know to whom to look in our afiliction, and are filled with anxiety rather on your behalf than our own. Your mother is wonderful. She is pretty well in health, and desires me to send you her love. " Have you considered your pro»)ects on leaving prison? I understand from Mr Overton that you have lost the legacy which yt>ur grandfather left you, together with all the interest tiiat accrued during your : nority, in the course of speculation upon the Stock Exchange t If you have indeed been guilty of such appailing l^y it is difficult to see what you can turn your hand to, and I suppose you will try to find a clerkship in an office. Your salary will doubtless be low at first, but you have made your bed and must not complain if you have to lie upon it. If you take pains to please your employers they will not be backward in promoting you. " When I first heard from Mr Overton of the unspeakable calamity which had befallen your mother and myself, I had resolved not to see you again. I am unwilling, however, to have recourse to a measure which would deprive you of your last connecting link with respectable people. Your mother and I will see you as soon as 3«)u come out of prison ; not at Battersby— we do not wish you to com3 down here at present — but somewhere dse, probably in London. You need not shrink from seeing us; we shall not reproach you. We will then Jecide about your future. " At present our impression is that you will find a fairer start probably in Australia or New Zealand *^'^T t here. The Way of AH Flesh 301 tnd I am prepared to find you ly$ or even If necewary so far as £100 to pay your passage money. Once in the colony you must be dependent upoa your own exertions. " May Heaven prosper them and you, and restore you to us years hence a respected member of society.— Your affectionate father, T. Pontifex." Then there was a postscript in Christina's writing. "My darling, darling boy, pray with me daily and hourly that we may yet again become a happy, united. God-fearing family as we were before this horrible pain fell upon us.— Your sorrowing but ever loving mother, "C. P." This letter did not produce the effect on Ernest that it would have done before his imprisonment began. His father and mother thought they could take him up as they had left him off. They forgot the rapidity with which development follows misfortune, if the sufferer is young and of a sound temperament. Ernest made no reply to his father's letter, but his dosire for a total break developed into something like a passion. " There are orphanages," he exclaimed to himself, " for children who have lost their parents— oh ! why, why, why, are there no harbours of refuge for grown men who have not yet lost them ? " And he brooded over the bliss of Melchisedek who had been bom an orphan, without father, without mother, and without descent. CHAPTER LXVin When I think over all that Ernest told me about his prison meditations, and the conclusions he was drawn to, it occurs to me that in reality he was wanting to do the very last thing which it would have entered into his head to think of 302 The Way of All Flesh wanting. I mean that he was trying to give up tether and mother for Christ's sake. He would have said he was giving them up because he thought they hindered bdm in the par> suit of his truest and most lasting happiness. Granted, but what is this if it is not Christ ? What is Christ if He is not this ? He who takes the highest and most self-respecting view of his own welfare which it is in his power to concdve, and adheres to it in spite of conventionality, is a Christian whether he knows it and calls himself one, or whether he does not. A rose is not the less a rose because it does not know its own name. What if circumstances had made his duty more easy for him than it would be to most men ? That was his luck, as much as it is other people's luck to have other duties made easy for them by accident of birth. Surely if people are bom rich pr handsome they have a right to their good fortune. Some I know, will say that one man has no right to be bom with a better constitution than another ; others again will say that luck is the only righteous object of himmn veneration. Both, I daresay, can make out a very good case, but whichever may be right siu-ely Ernest had as much right to the good luck of finding a duty made easier as he had had to the bad fortune of falling into the scrape which had got him into prison. A man is not to be sneered at for having a trump card in his hand ; he is only to be sneered at if he plays his tmmp card badly. Indeed, I question whether it is ever much harder for anyone to give up father and mother for Christ's sake than it was for Emest. The relations between the parties will have almost always been severely strained before it comes to this. I doubt whether anyone was ever yet required to give up those to whom he was tenderly attached for a mere matter of conscience : he wUl have ceased to be tenderly attached to them long before he is called upon to break with them ; for differences of opinion concerning any matter of vital importance spring from differences of con- stitution, and these will already have led to so much other disagreement that the " giving up " when it comes, is Uke giving up an aching but very loose and hollow tooth. It is the loss of those whom we are not required to give up The Way of All Flesh 303 for Christ's sake which is reaDy painful to us. Then there is a wrench in earnest. Happily, no matter how light the task that is demanded from us, it is enough if we do it ; we rew) our reward, much as though it were a Herculean labour. But to return, the conclusion Ernest came to was that he would be a tailor. He talked the matter over with the chaplain, who told him there was no reason why he ^ould not be able to ea.-n his six or seven shillings a day by the time he came out of prison, if he chose to learn the trade during the remainder of his term— not quite three months ; the doctor said he was strong enough for this, and that it was about the only thing he was as yet fit for ; so he left the infirmary sooner than he would otherwise have done and entered the tailor's shs^p, overjoyed at the thoughts of seeing his way again, and confident of rising some day if he could only get a firm foothold to start from. Everyone whom he had to do with saw that he did not belong to what are called the criminal classes, and finding him eager to learn and to save trouble always treated him kindly and almost respectfully. He did not find the work irksome : it was far more pleasant than making Latin and Greek verses at Roughborough ; he felt that he would rather be here in prison than at Roughborough again — yes, or even at Cambridge itself. The only trouble he was ever in danger of getting into was through exchanging words or looks with the more decent-looking of his fellow-prisoners. This was forbidden, but he never missed a chance of break- ing the rules in this respect. Any man of his ability who was at the same time anxious to learn would of course make rapid progress, and before he left prison the warder said he was as good a tailor with his three months' apprenticeship as many a man was with twelve. Ernest had never before been so much praised by any of his teachers. Each day as he grew stronger in health and more accustomed to his surroundings he saw some fresh advantage in his position, an advantage which he had not aimed at, but which had come almost in spite of himself, and he marvelled at his own good fortune, which had ordered things so greatly better for him than he could have oidered them for himself. 304 The Way of All Flesh Hit having lived dx months in Ashpit Hace was a case in point. Tnin^ were possible to him which to others like him would be mipossible. If such a man as Towneley were told he must live henceforth in a house like tiiose in Ashpit Place it would be more than he could stand. Ernest could not have stood it himself if he had gone to live there of compulsion through want of money. It was only be* cause he had felt himself able to run away at any nunute that he had not wanted to do so ; now, however, that he had become familiar with life in Ashpit Place he no longer minded it, and could live gladly in lower parts of Lonn than that so long as he could pay his way. It was from no prudence or forethought, that he had served this ap- Srenticeship to life among the poor. He had been trying 1 a feeble way to be thorough in his work : he had not been thorougjh, the whole thing had been a fiasco ; but he had made a little puny effort in the direction of being genuine, and behold, in his hour of need it had been re- turned to him Mdth a reward far richer than he had deserved. He could not have faced becoming one of the very poor unless he had had such a bridge to conduct him over to them as he had fotmd unwittingly in Ashpit Place. True, there had been drawbacks in the particular house he had chosen, but he need not live in a iu>use where there was a If r Holt and he should no longar be tied to the profession which he so mudi hated ; if there were neither screams nor scripture readings he could be happy in a garret at three shillings a week, such as Miss MaiUand lived in. As he thought further he remembered that aH things work togeUier for good to them that love God; was it possible, he asked himself, that he too, however imper- fectly, had been trying to love him ? He dared not answer Yes, but he would tiy hard that it should be so. Then there came into his mind that noble air of Handel's : " Great God, who yet but darkly known," and he fdt it as be had never felt it beiore. He had lost his faith in Christianity, but his faith in somethint; — he knew not what, but that t>iere was a something as y tt but darkly known, which made right right and wrong wrong — ^his faith in this grew stronger and stronger daily. The Way of All Flesh 305 Again there crossed his mind thoughts of the powei which he felt to be in him, and of how and where it was to find its vent. The same instinct which had led him to live among the poor because it was the nearest thing to him which he could lay hold of with any clearness came to his assistance here too. He thought of the Australian gold and how those who lived among it had never seen it though it abounded all around them: "There is gold everywhere," he exclaimed inwardly, "to those who look for it." Might not his opportunity be close upon him if he looked carefully enough at his immediate sur- roundings ? What was his position ? He had lost all. Could he not turn his having lost all into an opportunity ? Might he not, if he too sought the strength of the Lord, find, like St Paul, that it was perfected in weakness ? He had nothing more to lose ; money, friends, character, all were gone for a very long time if not for ever ; but there was something else also that had taken its flight along with these. I mean the fear of that which man could do unto him. Cantabii vacuus. Who could hurt him more than he had been hurt already ? Let him but be able to earn his bread, and he knew of nothing which he dared not venture if it would make the world a happier place for those who were young and loveable. Herein he found so much comfort that he almost wished he had lost his reputa- tion even more completely— for he saw that it was Uke a man's life which may be found of them that lose it and lost of them that would find it. He should not have had the courage to give up all for Christ's sake, but now Christ had mercifully taken all, and lo I it seemed as thot^h all were found. As the days went slowly by he came to see that Chris- tianity and the denial of Christianity after all met as much as any other extremes do ; it was a fight about names — not about things ; practically the Church of Rome, the Church of England, and the freethinker have the same ideal standard and meet in the gentleman ; for he is the most perfect saint who is the most perfect gentleman. Then he saw also that it matters little what profession, whether of religion or irreligion, a man may make, provided only he 3o6 The Way of All Flesh foUowt it out with charitable inconsisten y, and without insisting on it to the bitter end. It is in the uncompromift- ingnesB with which dogma b held and not in the dogma or want of dogma that the danger lies. This was the crowning point of the edifice ; when he had got here he no longer wished to molest even the Pope. The Archlnshop of Cttnterbury might have hopped about all round him and even picked crumbs out of ms hand without running risk of getting a sly sprinkle of salt. That wary prelate him- sdf might perhaps have been of a differoit oi»nion, but the rorans and thrushes that hop about our lawns are not more needlessly distrustful of the hand that throws them out crumbs of bread in winter, than the Archbishop would have been of my hero. Perhaps he was helped to arrive at the foregoing con- clusion by an, event wUch almost thrust inconsistency upon him. A few days after he had left the infirmary the cnaplain came to his cell and told him that the prisoner who played the or^ in chapel had just finished nis sen- tence and was leavmg the prison ; he therefore offered the TOSt to Ernest, who he sdready knew played the organ. Ernest was at first in doubt whether it would be right for him to assist at religious services more than he was actually compelled to do, but the pleasure of playing the organ, and the privileges which the post involved, made him see ex- cdlent reasons for not riding consistency to death. Having, then, once introduced an element of inconsistency into his system, he was far too consistent not to be inconsistent connstently, and he lapsed ere long into ^an amiabte in- Jifferenti"" whirh to outward appearance differed but little from the mdifferentism from which Mr Hawke had aroused him. By becoming organist he was saved from the treadmill, for which the doctor had said he was unfit as yet, but which he would probably have been put to in due course as soon as he was stronger. He might have escaped the tailor's shop altogether and done only the comparatively light work of attending to the chaplain's rooms if he had liked, but he wanted to learn as mudi tailoring as he could, and did not therefore take advantage of this offer ; he was allowed* The Way of AH Flesh 307 howevar two hours a day in the afternoon for practice. :J3"Jk °**^°f"* ^ P™°" "'« c««^ to b« monbtonout. •nd the remaining two months of his sentence sUpped hi Zm^^'^^^^l " ^?y '*'°"**^ ^^« «'n Leather Lane into Holborn. Each step he took, each face or object that he knew, helped at once to link him on to the Ufe he had led before his imprisonment, and at the same time to make him feel how completdy that imprisonment had cut his life into two parts, the one of wmch could bear no resemblance to the other. He passed down Fetter Lane into Fleet Street and so to the Temple, to which I had just retiuned from my smnmer holiday. It was about half past nine, and I was having my breakfast, when I heard a timid knock at the door and opened it to find Ernest. CHAPTER LXX I HAD begun to like him on the night Towneley had sent for me, and on the following day I thot^^t he had shaped well. I had Uked him also during our interview in prison, and wanted to see more of him, so that I might make up my mind about him. I had lived long enough to know that some men who do great things in the end are not very wise when they are young ; knowing that he woiUd leave prison on the 30th, I had expected him, and, as I had a spare bed< room, pressed him to stay with me, till he could make up his mind what he would do. Being so much older than he was, I anticipated no trouble in getting my own way, but he would not hear of it. The utmost he would assent to was that he ^ould be my The Way of AU Flesh 313 guest tm he could find a room for him J, which he would •et about doing at once. KrStT? ***? much agitated, but grew better as he ate a breakfast, not of prison fare and in a comfortable room. It pleased me to see the delight he took in aU about him : mv Jlf^ll'^ "^A^ ^ ^'^ ^" *.' ' *^^ ^y ^^'^. the Times, my cat, the red geraniums m the window, to say nothine of coffM, bread and butter, sausages, marmalade, etc! Everything was pregnant with the most exquisite pleasure to him. The plane trees were fuU of leaf stiU : he kept nsmg from the b-eakfast table to admire them ; never till now, he said, had he known what the enjoyment of these thmgs reaUy was. He ate, looked, laughed and cried by d^ribT *° «°»o*»o" which I ran neither forget nor He told me how his father and mother had lain in wait for hun, as he was about to leave prison. I was funous, and applauded him heartily for what he had done. He was very grateful to me for this. Other people, he said would tell him he ought to think of his father and mother rather than of himself, and it was such a com- tort to find somwne who saw things as he saw them him- •A u®°x T ^ ^^ differed from him I shou'd not have said so, but I was of his opinion, and was almost as much obhged to him for seeing things as I saw them, as he to me for doing the same kind office by himself. CordiaUy as I dishked Theobald and Christina. I was in such a hopelos minonty in the opinion I had formed conceminR thCTi that it was pleasant to find someone who agreed Pw ^^^ *^*"*® *° ^^"^ moment for both of us. A knock, as of a visitor and not a postman, was heard at my door. " Goodn^ gracious," I exclaimed, " why didn't we sport ttieoak? Perhaps it is your father. But surely he would hardly come at this time of day ! Go at once into my bed- room. ■^ I went to the door, and, sure enough, there were both 1 heobald and Christina. I could not refuse to let them in and was obliged to listen to their version of the story, which 314 The Way of All Flesh ■greed substantiaUy with Ernest's. Christina cried bitt^^ly —Theobald stormed. After about ten minutes, during which I assured them that I had not the faintest concq>ti6n where their son was, I dismissed them both. I saw they looked suspiciously upon the manifest signs that someone was breakfasting with.me, and parted from me more or less defiantly, but I got rid of them, and poor Ernest came out again, looking white, frightened and upset. He had heard voices, but no more, and did not feel sure that the enemy might not be gaining over me. We sported the oak now, and before long he began to recover. After bres^fast, we discussed the situation. I had taken away his wardrobe and books from Mrs Jupp's, but had left his furniture, pictures and piano, giving Mrs Jupp the use of these, so tiiat she might let her room furnished, in lieu of charge for taking care of the furniture. As soon as Ernest heard that his Wardrobe was at hand, he got out a suit of clothes he had had before he had been ordained, and put it on at once, much, as I thought, to the improvement of his personal appearance. Then we went into the subject of his finances. He had had ten pounds from Pryer only a day or two before he was apprehended, of which between seven and eight were in his purse when he entered the prison. This money was re- stored to him on leaving. He had always paid cash for whatever he bought, so that there was nothing to be de- ducted for debts. Besides this, he had his clothes, books and furniture. He could, as I have said, have had jf loo from his father if he had chosen to emigrate, but this both Ernest and I (for he brought me round to his opinion) agreed it would be better to dedine. This was all he knew of as belonging to him. He said he proposed at once taking an unfurnished top back attic in as quiet a house as he could find, say at three or four shillings a week, and looking out for work as a tailor. I did not think it much mattered what he began with, for I felt pretty s\u-e he would ere long find his way to something that suited him, if he could get a start with any- thing at all. The difficulty was how to get him started. It was not enough that he should be able to cut out and make The Way of All Flesh 315 dothes—that he should have the organs, so to speak, of a Udor ; he must be put into a taUor's shop and guided for a Mtle while by someone who knew how and where to help The rest of the day he spent in looking for a room, which je soon found, and in famiUarising himself with Uberty. In the evemng I took him to the Olympic, where Robson was then actmg in a burlesque on Macbeth, Mrs Keeley, If I remember rightly, taking the part of Lady Macbeth, m the scene before the murder, Macbeth had said he could not kiU Duncan when he saw his boots upon the landmg. Lady Macbeth put a stop to her husband's hesitation by v^ppmg him up under her arm, and carrying him off the ?rS;^' . . 1^/^ screaming. Ernest laughed till he cried. What rot Shakespeare is after this," he exclaimed, in- voluntarily. I remembered his essay on the Greek trage- dians, and was more ipris with him than ever. Next day he set about looking for employment, and I did not see hun till about five o'clock, when he came and said that he had had no success. The same thing happened the next day and the day after that. Wherever he went he was invariably refused and often ordered point blank out of the shop ; I could see by the expression of his face, though he said nothing, that he was getting frightened, and b^an to think I should have to come to the rescue. He said he had made a great many enquiries and had always been told the same story. He found that it was easy to keep on m an old hne, but very hard to strike out into a new one. He talked to the fishmonger in Leather Lane, where he went to buy a bloater for his tea, casually as though from cunosity and without any interested motive. " SeU," said t^ master of the shop, " Why nobody wouldn't beUeve what can be sold by penn'orths and twopenn'orths if you go the right way to work. Look at whelks, for instance. Last Saturday night me and my Uttle Emma here, we sold £7 worth of whelks between eight and half past eleven o dock—and ahnost all in penn'orths and twopenn'orths -* few hap'orths, but not many. It was the steam that did It. We kept a-boiling of 'em hot and hot, and when- 3i6 The Way of All Flesh ever the steam came &trong up from the cellar on to the pavement, the people bought, but whenever the steam went down they left off buying ; so we boiled them over and over again till they was all sold. That's just where it is ; if you know your business you can sell, if you don't you'll soon make a mess of it. Why, but for the steam, I should not have sold los. worth of whelks all the night through." This, and many another yam of kindred substance which he heard from other people determined Ernest more than ever to stake on tailoring as the one trade about which he knew anything at all, nevertheless, here were three or four days gone by and employment seemed as far off as ever. I now did what I ought to have done before, that b to say, I called on my own taUor whom I had dealt with for over a quarter ,oi a century and asked his advice. He declared Ernest's plan to be hopeless. "If," said Mr Larkins, for this was my tailor's name, " he had begun at fourteen, it might have done, but no man of twenty-four could stand being turned to work into a workshop full of tailors ; he would not get on with the men, nor the men with hhn ; you cotJd not expect him to be ' hail fellow, well met ' with them, and you could not expect his fellow- workmen to Uke him if he was not. A man must have sunk low through drink or natural taste for low company, before he could get on with those who have had such a different training from his own." Mr Larkins said a great deal more and wound up by taking me to see the place where his own men worked. " This is a paradise," he said, " compared to most work- shops. What gentleman could stand this air, think you, for a fortnight ? " I was glad enough to get out of the hot, fetid atmosphere m five minutes, and saw that there was no brick of Ernest's prison to be loosened by going and working among tailors m a workshop. Mr Larkins wound up by saying that even if my prvt^gi were a much better workman than he probaMy Was, no master woidd give him employment, for fear of creating a bother among th * men. The Way of All Flesh 317 miif/*' ^i^^ ***** ^ ^'"K^* *o ^ve thought of aU this Doundc 1^ c''?l"'y y°""8 '"^"^ *»*^« a f«w thousand pounds and send him out to the colonies when on mw S^ScW* ''/5"f ^^^ °:^*^^' ^ Sd him waC"? me. radiant, and declaring that he had found aU he WMted. CHAPTER LXXI It seems he had been patroUing the streets for the last three or four mghts^I suppose in search of something trdo-S any rate knowing better what he wanted to get thi^w to get It. Nevertheless, what he wanted was in reS^tv^ ^el^^i ^?f *^*li* *^k * ^S^y educated1?hJlS S^v^i^^Sk*^ unable to find it. But, however tS may be, he had been scared, and now saw Uons where there were none, and was shocked and frightened, and S afS k^r^ Tf^' ^?, ^f'^ 1^ aSS he had J^tuSf d to JS ^F H. S^f *^ .^?^^* ^*^*»"* accomplishing his ^J^'.H^ }^^T\^^^ "''' ^t<^ ^ confidence upon ttos matter, and I had not enouired what he did with him- !vi^-^! !r?^- At last lie had concluded that, how- H^ha^ w"*^* "fu^^ ^ ***** *° *»^P ^^ ^ anyone iiSd He had been w^kmg moodily from seven till about nine. flSr ""^^^ to go str«^ht to Ashpit Place and ^^ a ^Jtlwr confessor of Mrs Jupp without more deUy. Of all tasks that could be performed by mortal woman ttere was none which Mis jipp would have hSd K than the one Ernest was thinking of imposing upon hor- ZmL^Z ^""^ ^" ^ ^^^d broS!^JJtute"e M« Tn^""* done much better than he now prop<«^ Mrs Jupp would have made it very easy for hiii to^^ S^Si'U? ^'\: 2.^^' u^* woul/ have coax^it^^S of him before he knew where he was ; but the fates wwc against Mis Jupp. and the meeting b;tween my hS>^d / !' I f u 318 The Way of All Flesh his former landlady was postponed sint die, for his deter- mination had hardly been formed and he had not gone more than a hundred yards in the direction of Mrs Jupp's house, when a woman accosted him. He was turning from her, as he had turned from so many others, when she started back with a mo' ement that aroused his curiosity. He had hardly seen her face, but being determined to catch sight of it, followed her as she hurried away, and passed her; then turning round he saw that she was none other than Ellen, the housemaid who had been dismissed by his mother eight years pre- viously. He ought to have assigned Ellen's unwillingness to see him to its true cause, but a guilty conscience made him think she had heard of his disgrace and was turning away from him in centempt. Brave as had been his resolu- tions about facing the world, this was more than he was pr^>ared for ; " What ! you too shun me, Ellen ? " he exoaimed. The girl was crying bitterly and did not understand him. "Oh, Master Ernest," she sobbed, "let me go; jrou are too good for the likes of me to speak to now." "Why, Ellen," said he, "what nonsense you talk; you haven't been in prison, have you ? " " Oh, no, no, no, not so bad as that," she exclaimed passionately. " Well, I have," said Ernest, with a forced laugh, " I came out three or four dajrs ago after six months with hard labour." Ellen did not believe him, but she looked at him with a " Lor ' 1 Master Ernest," and dried her eyes at once. The ice was broken between them, for as a matter of fact Ellen had been in prison several times, and though she did not beUeve Ernest, his merely saying he had been in prison made her fed more at ease with him. For her there were two classes of people, those who had been in prison and those who had not. The first she looked upon as fellow- creatures and more or less Christians, the second, with few exceptions, s^e regarded with suspicion, not whdly umnbgled with contempt. The Way of All Flesh 319 Hn^^^K^T*? ^^^ ^^ "^^ had happened to him dunng the last rix months, and by-and-^T^ WievS "Master Ernest," said she, after thev had talked for » K'Jhel^n'r "' "?• ">^«'« » Kver S?e waj wnere they sell tnpe and onions. I know you was alwat^ ™1*^ 'i''*i' J^T. P°" *" maimna, and your dear ppa. Master Ernest," said EBen, who had nOTir"reav^ H^u^'e^:irh^r?^s^^^ ?t;oi^dTi,?c^ hadTxtcTS't^n^pS"^^?^y^'^^^***^»»y- He beMi tJSlH *°/?«*,?"en indignant at the way she had S^n f!f h?' ^^ *"?"^^ *° ^*y the blame of her haWng faUen to her prwent state at tis father's and moth^ iT^ of T ,"°* "^l ""l°"*y recoUection of bTSv S3^u f ** place where she had had plenty to eat and Ws & Z'^m^H^"^^ *^* ^™* ^d l^arreuS ^ S!t* !k ? ?. "^^^^ *he assmned as a matter of course that the fault must lie entirely with Ernest. Uh, your pore, pore ma ! " said Ellen " She »»« h^TJ^ ""P ?"^ ?^°' Master Emesff j^u vrS^y^ m« 2S« *h: J' *^^ °°^ °^ the way she^usS to have mfwil -n ^i!* ^M***^ ^™^t' you reaUy must go and m^ It all up with her ; indeed you must." * alrlT f iS* *^*^' ?"* >? had resisted so vaUantly already that the devil might have saved him.^r*i,- S°lS?f ?J! ""^ *° ?* **^ through ElSfin^'at^eJ plk^Sf^'^^^ni He changed the subject,^S 4" SrbS^?^ 21?°*^ *°?*^?' as th^lad then: tripe and pTtJ ?L « * ^ ^ Pt?P^« "^ the world EUen was perffw the one to whom Ernest could have spoken^H^ 320 The Way of All Flesh at this juncture. He told her what he thought ha could have told to no one else. " You know, Ellen," he concluded, " I had learnt as a boy things that I ought not to have learnt, and had never had a chance of- that which would have set me straight." " Gentlefolks is always like that," said Ellen musingly. " I believe you are right, but I am no longer a gentleman, Ellen, and I don't see why I should be ^like that ' any longer, my dear. I want you to help me to be like some- thing else as soon as possible." "Lor' ! Master Ernest, whatever can you be meanins ? " The pair soon afterwards left the eating-house and walked up Fetter Lane together. Ellen had had hard times since she had left Battetsby, but they had left little trace upon her. Ernest saw only the fresh • looking smiling face, the dimpled cheek, the clear blue eyes and lovely sphinx-like lips which he had remembered as a boy. At nineteen she had looked older than she was, now she looked much younger; indeed die looked hardly older than ^en £mest had last seen her, and it would have taken a i. n of much greater experience than he possessed to suspt ct how completely she had fallen from her first estate. It never occurred to him that the poor condition of her ward- robe was due to her passion for ardent spirits, and tiiat first and last she had served five or six times as much time in gaol as he had. He ascribed the poverty of her attire to the attempts to keep herself respectable, which Ellen during supper had more than once alluded to. He had been charmed with the way in which she had declared that a pint of beer would make her tipsy, and had only allowed herself to be forced into drinking the whole after a good deal of remonstrance. To him she appeared a very angel dropped from the sky, and all the more easy to get on with for being a fallen one. As he walked up Fetter Lane with her towards Laystall Street, he thought of the wonderful goodness of God towards him in throwing in his way the very person of all others whom he was most glad to see, and whom, of all I xi fl The Way of All Flesh 321 others in wpitt of her Hving 10 near him. he misht nave nem faUen in with but for a happy accident. ^ ^5rl? ?~P^* «** ** ^*o **>«^ t«»d8 that they are beinc JpedaDy favoured by the Ahnighty. they had tetterTS go^eral rule mind th«r p's and q's. and when they thinlc them r«nember that he has had much more experience than they have, and it probably meditating miidiiS. AJready dunng supper the thought tiiat in EUen at kst ne bad found a woman whom he could love weU enouch to wish to hve with and marry had flitted across his^d. rojgesting themselves for thinking that what might be foUy m ordmary cases would not be folly in his. He must marry someone; that was already settled. He could not marry a lady ; that was absurd. He must marnr a poor wwnan Yes. but a fallen one ? Was he not faUcn hunsdf ? EUen would fall no more. He had ^y to look at her to be sure of this. He could not live with her m sm, not for more than the shortest time that could elapse before their marriage ; he no longer bcUeved to the supernatural element of Christianity, but the Omstian morahty at any rate was indisputable. Besides, they miffht have children, and a stigma would rest upon them. Whom had he to consult but himself now ? His father and mother never need know, and even if they did. they should be thankful to see him married to any womaii J50 would make him happy as EUen would. As for not bang able to afford marriage, how did poor people do ? Did not a good wife rather help matters than not ? Where one could hve two could do so. and if EUen was three or fom: years older than he was— weU. what was that ? Have you, gentle reader, ever loved at first si^ht ? When you feU m love at first sight, how long, let miTask. y* mant. " ^t what do you think of going into a shop for, my dear/' said Ellen. " Why not take a little shop your- self?" Ernest asked how much this would coat. EUen told him that he might take a house in some small street^ say near the " Elephant and Castle," for its. or z8a. a wedc, and let off the two top floors for zos., keeping the back padour and shop for themselves. If he could raise five or six pounds to buy some second-hand clothes to stock the shop with, they could moid them and dean them, and she could look after the wome&'a clothes while he did The Way of AH Flesh 323 lit tSf^eJ^ »»• «>^d r-nd Md makt. il he could They could loon make t buiiness of /a a wmIt u *uu «w«d to « better jhop. where the ii»de A mlSv^ ^^m^ Sis.'-' *>" "» «^*" ^ cTS ft S A^i'S^k'iJ^'^ ," **i." «»««h he h.d Bw* «• A3000 MCK again all of a sudden, and Mrfaana wjo much more Tatcr on into the biiSS, EuS •awed nww than ever to be his eood geniS/^ ^~ hJteLr S^ «°V» 'T,~^oYSSn for hi. and S^i^Ai^L ^J'^'"'^^^. ^^ «««»> more nicely tSn cSw Jj?i"' *° .^' ^*^ ^^ breakfast for him and maS coffee, and some nice brown toast P™-.* kJ!i kZJ-T^ own cook and housemaid fwth^t f^Svs^dft ^ gjjsnWmself satisfaction. Here he SSdtStfoS^wS Mjf With someone to wait on him aeain Not oni«T!i ^ pointed out to hun how hTToKm a liv^^wh^ but here she was so pretty and smiling. lookinTaflS ^ £5l5i «^ '^. *^Ht to the po«UoJ whkh S^d ^HJJJ^^'^v?"*^ *^ ^ one that he aSwdvliSd S^Kptrmt ^ - -^t when"S:iS2 ni^hiS^tS"!?*?!?*? ^ **"»^ all that had happened. h«Ji^^ S"^^'^"''*"*^^ »°d hawed. SS^ th?«ir™'?. to someone else. He felt inclined toslur things over, but I wanted to get at the facS^i hrfIS out pretty nearly the whole story as I have riven ii-TkJK^ J^L^^ not show it, but I was ve^?^** fe* J^%t?^E'^nest. I don't know wh^XJ^erli^ ^JS^ ?y ^r« °^ *° ^h°°» I hi become attacSd 1T*J^ **i J** u°i?P«* ^*hout hating his SSodS ^tinetively, though I had never seen her jl have obe^ t^ost tachelors feel the same tSJg', tWh ^^ «««Hy at some pdns to hide the faS. PerSjItt^ 324 The Way of AU Flesh because we know we ought to have got married ourselves. Ordinarily we say we are delighted— in the present case I did not feel obfiged to do this, though I made an effort to conceal my vexation. That a young man of much promise who was heir also to what was now a handsome fortune, should fling himself away upon such a person as Ellen was quite too provoking, and the more so because of the unexpectedness of the whole affair. I be^ed him not to marry Ellen yet— not at least until he had known her for a longer time. He would not hear of it ; he had given his word, and if he had not given it he should go and give it at once. I had hitherto found him upon most matters singularly docile and easy to manage, but on this point I could do nothing with him. His recent victory over hb father and mother had increased his strength, and I* was nowhere. I would have told him of his true position, but I knew very well that this would only make him more bent on having his own way— for with so much money why should he not please himself ? I said nothing, therefore, on this head, and yet all that I could urge went for very little with one who believed himself to be an artisan or nothing. Really from his own standpoint there was nothing very outrageous in what he was doing. He had known and been very fond of Ellen years before. He knew her to come of respectable people, and to have borne a good character, and to have been universally liked at Batteral^. She was then a quick, smart, hard-working girl— and a very pretty one. when at last they met again she was on her best b^viour, in fact, she was modesty and demureness itself. What wonder, then, that his imagination should fail to realise the changes that eight years must have worked ? He knew too much against himself, and was too baiikrupt in love to be squeamish ; if Ellen had been only what ne thought her, and if his prospects had been in reality no better than he believed they were, I do not ^ow that there is anything much more imprudent in what Ernest proposed than there is in half the marxisges that take place every day. There was nothing for it, however, bat to make the The Way of AU Flesh 325 wanted to start his shop witt H wh?f ^rl-T^ ?°"*y ^« not iniflR/>i*««« TT ^1.*^ . . • " wnat he had in hand was fi,,?^ * *^^ *^°^<* ^ no difficulty. (W^SJ 326 The Way of All Flesh gTMiter ntunbcr of cues, if people are taved at all they art laved 80 as by fire. While Ernest was with me Ellen was looking oat for a shop on the south side of the Thames near the ^' Elephant andCaatle," which was then ahnost a new and a very risinc ndghbourhood. By one o'clock she had found several from which a selection was to be made, and before night the pair had made their choice. Ernest brought Ellen to me. I did not want to tee her, but could not well refuse. He had laid out a few of his shillings upon her wardrobe, so that she was neatly dressed, and, indeed, she looked very pretty and so good that I could hardly be surprised at Ernest's infatuation when the other circumstances of the case were taken into considera* tion. Of course we hated one another instinctively from the first momeilt we set eyes on one another, but we each told Ernest that we had been most favourably impressed. Then I was taken to see tho shop. An empty house is like a stray dog or a body from \mch life has departed. Decay sets in at once in every part of it, and what mould and wind and weather would spare, street boys commonly destroy, best's shop in its untenanted state was a dirty unsavoury place enough. The house was not old, but it had been nm up by a jerry-builder and its con- stitution had no stamina whatever. It was only by being kept warm and quiet that it would remain hi health for many months together. Now it had been empty for some weeks and the cats had £ot in by night, while the boys had broken the windows by day. The parknir floor was covered with stones and dirt, and in the area was a dead dog which had been killed in the street and been thrown down into the first unprotected place that could be found. There was a strong smell throughout the house, but whether it was bugs, or rats, or cats, or drains, or a compound of all four, I could not determine. The sashes did not fit, the flimsy doors hung badly ; the skirting was gone in several places, and there were not a few holes in the floor ; the locks were loose, and paper was torn and dirty ; the stairs were weak and one felt the treads give as ona went up them The Way of All Flesh 327 «.2!^*°*' •^^^ ^^^^ drawbacki the house had an ill ^hS^Z^^^ ** "^'.^ ^*^ many weeks previously. Sr i?d h.^ ^"°? •^ *^'°" ^^ fi" 'o' her husSrnS Wt tS ri.m ^K ^ V^"^^ °' *~»*- She then £itiMJii?SJ*1 *^°^? *^"* *° >■«*""» to it shortly, hS^^ h^'f^S?!:'*'*" ^«"J ^*° «»• back kitchen Wd KI?S. fc ^ *."* ^ ^°^^- It was this which had Ki^a<^^S?^ ¥;,^^i? »P"\°^ »*» exceUenTpS. ^H. *k ^^^^ . P- ^« ^t tenant had left imnediatelv S^ J2l^^''*',*J r^ *' ^^ "^^ had hadT£SJ up thw people woiUd have got over the tragedy that iSS^LS SSTftle hld*h n?* «>"»W"»ti<,n of^/condluS^ DM lame had Wndered many from taking it who Uk« HIw, could see that it had great biSnei caplMiui ^mort anything would have Sd thert b^ it CS^nS lO^ that there was no second-hand clothes 8hoDiS^cloM ^If^ y •<> that evenrthin^ combined in S TaviT exoeptitsfihhjj state and its reputation. * ..JhiJ? ;!5I!i **'i ^ ^°^^ I w°^d rather die than live in S^nu /•'^ Plwe-but then I had been Uvteg fa t£ Twnple for the last five and twentv vean FrSJf «- M-'iig to LajjtiUl Street and iSd S ^'out Jf ^risT tK 5S»i2?'' ^^^ 5?" provided he could get it done^ SS ^ty ^ that ^e lancUord was hird t^lSStet hora.^^ of tte "Jo^Wwedjthe broken glass hacked out and rdnstated tad bM done, and the rooms now looked u SttrtS '? 328 The Way of All Flesh u they had been forbidding when I had last seen them. Tlw people who liad done the repairs were supposed to havt cleaned the house down before leaving, but Ellen had given it another scrub from top to bottom herself after they wero e^ne, and it was as clean as a new pin. I almost felt as though I could have lived in it myself, and as for Ernest, he was in the seventh heaven. He said it was all my doing and Ellen's. There was aheady a counter in the shop and a few fittings, so that nothing now remained but to get some stock and set them out for sale. Ernest said he could not be^ better than by selling his clerical wardrobe and his books, for though the shop was intended especially for the sale of second-hand clothes, yet Ellen s?id there was no reason why they should not sell a few books too ; so a beginning was to be made by selling the books he had had at sc^ and college at about one shiUing a volume, taking them all round, and I have heard him say that he learned more that proved of practical use to him through stocking his books on a bench in front of his shop and selling them, than he had done from all the years of study w^ch he had bestowed ujpon their contents. For the enquiries that were made of him whether he had such and such a book taught him what he could seU and what he could not ; how much he could get for this, and how much for that. Having made ever sadh a little bednning with books, he took to attending book sales as well as clothes sales, and ere long this branch of his business became no less important than the tailoring, and would, I have no doubt, have been the one which he would have settled down to exclusively, if he had been called upon to remam a tradesman ; but this is anticipating. I made a contribution and a stipulation. Ernest wanted to sink the gentleman completely, until such time as he could work his way up again. If he had been left to himself he would have lived with Ellen in the shop back parlour and kitchen, and have let out both the upper floors according to his original programme. I did not want him, however, to cut himself adrift from music, letters and polite hfe, and feared that unless he had some kind of den into The Way of All Flesh 329 fint floor ftw^ jT" , *™*'o« iimtted on ttkint the \^'»li fi,^.' *"' ^ "P"*""* "«" to Us whole bodv pt him a bit of fish, and he didn't Uke that or rfjJ l !? ^ {«> dear, and you know fish is deLrer 4an eier -^h ♦?" «d fret .bout it i„;i^y 3 in? tTt^ fif r? »d .he hop«J he ^ A*h4r ^B"nt .^i*-^. $£ 330 The Way of All Flesh concluded, " ft ain't you and it ain't me, and it ain't Urn and it ain't her. It's what you must call the fortunes bl matterimony, for there ain't no other word for it." In the course of the aftomoon the furniture tfrived at Ernest's new abode. In the first floor we placed the piano, table, pictures, bookshelves, a couple of arm*chairs, and all the little household gods which he had brought from Cam- bridge. The back room was furnished exactly as his bed- room at Ashpit Place had been— new tldngs being got for the bridal apartment downstairs. These twolrst-floor rooms I insisted on retaining as my own, but Ernest was to use them whenever he pleased ; he was never to sublet even the bedroom, but was to keep it for himself in case his wife should be ill at any time, or in case he might be ill himself. In less than « fortnight from the time of his leaving prison all these arrangements had been completed, and Ernest felt that he had again linked himself on to the life which he had led before his imprisonment — ^with a few important differences, however, which were greatly to hto advantage. He was no longer a clergyman ; he was about to marry a woman to whom he was much attached, and he had parted company for ever with his father and mother. True, he had lost aU his money, his rq)utation, and his position as a gentleman ; he had, in fact, had to bum his Bouie down in order to get his roast sncUng pig ; but if asked whether he would rather be as he was now (m* as he was on the day before his arrest, he would not have had a moment's iMsitation in preferring his present to his past. If his present could only have been purchased at the expense of all that he had gone through, it was still worth purchasing at the price, and he wodd go through it all again if necessary. The loss of the money was the wont, but Ellen said she was sure they would get on, and she knew all about it. As for the loss of reputation— con- sidering that he had Ellen and me left, it did not come to much. I saw the house on the afternoon of the day on which all was finished, and there remained nothing but to buy some stock and begin selling. When I was gone, after he had The Way of All Flesh 331 up an round the auction room to be viewed Fii«« w3 the morning was over vain^ » ^««,-Iri *^ ? *°° before about whiS^*« «iH K ??'*" '?** nmning at prices SS fw ttat ' ''°'^^ °°* hurt ifhe^ould get Hv!S ff,^" disUkhig this work or finding it tedious he »ht?K ^T^" ?"^' ^^"^ he would havelitorf^Saritt^ hdd1u?a plS^T^S P^^^ »trongS!:1nd ^ nS 1-? k • P"*?P*c* Of bnnging him in money. EUen would mtir..* 11 ^^^^^ •** ^^ »le firat and watch W 2^v tiif «.SVk *" "^'^ ^^"^ he and Ellen had ^S! Sle to Wd ^if *he sale was over he knew enough to b^ ?o buv K^^^^^^K :S^ever he should actaX ^ 11^' PP^^^S^^^'^his sort is very easUvacauiredbv mu^ a? ^^•f Jl °°* '^!°* i!°^ *° huy at auction^not much at l«ut at present. Private deiing, she said was h^ fKliV^' **""?^«' had any cast^ff cloth«. ^waTt" buy them from my laundress, ind get a ttS^i^a^ 332 The Way of All Flesh Other koa dr et M, to whom ho might give a triflo mora than they got at present for whatever clothes their masteii mi^t sive them, and yet make a good profit. If gentle- men sdd their things, he was to tiy and get them to seO to him. He flinched at nothing ; perhaps he would have flinched if he had had any idea how ouM his proceedings were, but the very ignorance of the world which had mined him up till now, bv a happy irony beg^ to work its own cure. If some malignant fairy had meant to curse him in this respect, she had overdone her malice. He did not know he was doing anything strange. He only knew that he had no money, and must provide for himself, a wife, and a possible family. More than thb, he wanted to have some lesiure in an evening, so that he might read and write and keep up his music. If anyone would show him how he could do better than he was doing, he should be much obliged to them, but to himself it seemed that he was doing sufficiently well ; for at the end of the first week the pair found they had made a clear profit of A. In a few weeks this had increased to l^, and by the 1^ Year they had made a profit of £5 in one week. Ernest had by this time been married some two months, for he had stuck to his original plan of marrying Ellen on the first day he could legally do so. This date was a little delayed by the change of abode from Laystall Street to Blackfriars, but on the first day that it could be done it was done. He had never had more than £250 a year, even in the times of his aifiuence, so that a profit of £5 a week, if it could be maintained steadily, would place him where he had been as far ks income went, and, though he should have to feed two mouihs instead of one, yet his expenses in other ways w«re so much curtailed by h» changed social position, that, take it all round, his income was practically what it had been a twelvemonth before. The next thing to do was to increase it, and put by money. Prosperity depends, as we all know, in great measure upon energy and good sense, but it also depends not a little upon pure luck— that is to say, upon connections which are in sudi a tangle that it is more easy to say that they do not exist, than to try to trace theoL A neighbourhood may The Way of AH Flesh 333 body-. mouth „d to I«^ tte ™ho eha^ » in mry- «^:^''SS'?„'^rt.'i£^-\».'«o tection. The newhteurhnnH «!!. T" ""^«*" ^^ Pro- ?iSrsoi!«"SSF^""^-pit fifty P«T««?^^'Bfe?J!jS^^^^^ P'^^* °' from thirty to he began to buy other tlSiS b2iH^^»?™°**^l*^y •' i^S'«h^i^45?^ &ure^°i?c^rthS with wUc^ he tiSSd ffi^^r '°''«?' °' *^« PO«t«>«» faster thai he Sd LtidS?2 ^ ''?™??'' ^* ^«°* a^ead and by Ewttt was «S?SSh^' ^""^ ? "* ^^«* ^^^^^^^ owner ofTCi^^Jf ^"12 •^P"^ j^tio" •» thi four and five hT^a^rT^???'!? ^^ ^ ^"^^ to extend ^^' •"^ ^^^*» *»« undentood how CHAPTER LXXIII ^^^^e^'L^^S^^y'^fJ^^ better, perhap.. neither did EUen SwuJ to hi dLlJf? ™..^ J^*»*' «>at to devatc her ^^Z^Zl^.^'S'' ^^ ^™«* w"»t to her ; they hS iS^S^ivi''!v^' *°<* ^«n^ kind "-nmoi; they iSS St^te^h ^'L?"'^ »^ i° each was lamilLTSi^S^S^iS * good part of which and this was ei^oS EU^^f^*^^ *^*^*"*°* *«°P«". Ernest's prefer^ to sit th* t f°* "^^ JealouTat 334 The Way of All Flesh wlMf« I occwkmally visHed him. She might have cont ■ad Mt with him if she hftd lilced, but, lomehow or othen ■he generftUy found enough to occupy her down below. She hed the tact also to encourage him to go out of an even- ing whenever he had a mind, without in the least carii^ that he should take her too— and this suited Ernest very well. He was, I should say, much happier in his married life than people generaUy are. At first it nad been very painful to him to meet any of Us old friends, as he somethnes accidentally did, but this ■oon passed ; either they cut him, or he cut them ; it was not nice being cut for the first time or two, but after that, it became rather pleasant than not, and when he began to see that he was going ahead, he cared very little what people might say about his antecedents. The ordeal to a painful one, but if a man's moral and intellectual con- ■titution are naturally sound, there is nothing which will give him so much strength of character as having been well cut It was easy for him to keep his expenditure down, for his tastes were not luxurious. He liked theatres, outings into the country on a Sunday, and tobacco, but he did not care for much else, except writing and nnisic. As for the usual run of concerts, he hated them. He worshipped Handel ; he liked Offenbach, and the airs that wentaoout the streets, but he cared for nothing betweoi these two extremes. Music, therefore, cost him little. As for theatres, I got him and Ellen as many orders as they liked, ■o these cost them nothing. The Sunday outings were a small item ; f<»- a shilling or two he could get a return ticket to a(Htte place far enough out of town to give him a good walk and a thorough chimge for the day. ^en went with him the first few times, but she said she found it too much for bar, there were a few of her old friends mhom she should sometimes like to see, and ^ey and he, she said, would not hit it off perhaps too well, so it would be better for him to go alone. This seemed so soisible, and suited Ernest so exactly that he readily fell into it, nor did he muptct dangers which were apparent enou§^ to me when I heard how she had treated the matter. I kept The Way of All Flesh 335 » • mM cwriei with Urn . U?tI??kZr^i,'^ S?"^y Jotting dowSritetrfTi. I. f^ *S?^ ""^ *Mtiiict ; t hundred Twr-S' f * ^^ ^« artmtic nuy be known by^^.Ae^S!-.^««t««n^ inttinS wiwtcoat Docket InSril; kf"? * *"**" note-book in his •trike. liTi My *^*"^^^^^ ?>7 anything tlS '•«««»« to any DSLS^hS?? Sf*i^* ^«»« Midr or a teWm. EiS^tTOiS1?no?J^^^^«^«»^ Even when he was at rTmKJS^- u u !? .■'^y ^tb him. h« copied out from tWtofSSS;***^!^- Theie notes •ccwnulated 1»^wm^Vv^«^* *".*°/ ^k» ^Wch as they •• he wS^tai«nds on which all P«»ed So^e^Sksdot Sr^^T?^' ^^« »»«ady ^wmld disturb LeinW^!^/,?*^- ?« °«a whom yoj behind 3^uT it^L wlljlltSlf ^ '^*' *» y°« ^^ He co^d iot s^fr He JSh * ''^*'' "°* **»ey-" opon the famoul^ sJm^ib^S *^^*^ °° "» «»ay ^t Vincent^e^^W^^^Tw^'r'^'*^'**^ J--^e Showed himself IS^e Tdo'^tTrtCiSS 336 The Way of AH Fleah of bmiiMii or a littiatkm ; he gave ma many wggMdoM, all of which were marked by excellent good tense. Never- theleae I could not prevail with him to put pUJoiq^y on one tide, and was ooUged to leave him to himself. For a long time, as I have said, his choice of subjects continued to be such as I could not approve. He was con- tinually studying scientific and metaphysical writers, in the Iwpe of either finding or making for mmaelf a philoso- pher's stone in the shape of a system which should go on all fours under all circumstances, instead of bdng liable to be upset at every touch and turn, as every system yet |m>- mulgated has turned out to be. He kept to the pursuit of this will-o'-the-wiq) so kmg that I gave up hope, and set him down as another fly that had been caught, as it were, by a piece of paper daubed over wi^ some sticky stuff that had not even the merit of being sweet, but to my surprise he at last declared that he was satisfied, and had found what he wanted. I supposed that he had only hit upon some new " Lo, here I '^ when to my relief, he told me that he had concluded that no system which should go perfectly upon all loars wo possible, inasmuch as no one could get bwind Biabop Berkeley, and therefore no absolutdy incontrovertible first premise could ever be laid. Having found this he was just as well pleased as if he had found the most perfect system ima^;inable. All he wanted he said, wu to know which way it was to be— that is to say whether a system was possible or not, and if possible then what the system was to be. Having found out that no system based on absolute certainty was possible he was contented. I had only a very vague idea who Bishop Berkeley was, but was thankful to him for having defended us from an incontrovertible first premise. I am afraid I said a few words implying that after a great deal of trouUe he had arrived at the OMidusion which sensiUe people reach without bothering their brains so much. He said : " Yes, but I was not bom sensiUe. A child of OTdinary powers learns to walk at a year or two old without knowing much about it ; failing ordinary powers he had better learn laboriously than never kam at all. The Way of All Fksh 337 oiffiS!^'."" ~* ••™«^. b"* to *, M I did WM m, 5f»« of wood, but tf 1 icc«.;2^^ <»"• I im . *) not tet «p tc^ be . Toind^i.^'^''" '^'kly ond occatfonal M,^»i^«riI.P"""~ " ever ahice in 1^*^ ^ CHAPTER LXXIV ^site*tt'i{t£-«-p«.-joph»p™.prtt. 338 The Way of All Flesh succeat had depended upon himself alone. Unfortu- nately he was not the only person to be reckoned with. One morning he had gone out to attend some sales, leaving his wife perfectly well, as usual in good spirits, and koldng verj^ prettv. When he came back he found her sitting on a duur in the back parlour, with htr hair over her face, sobbing and crying as though her heart would break. She said she had been frightened in tlw morning by a man who had pretended to be a customer, and had threatened her unless she gave him some things, and she had had to give them to him in order to save henelf ixom violence ; she had been in hysterics ever since the man had gone. This was her story, but her speech was so incoherent that it was not easy to make out what she said. Ernest knew she was with child, and »hinVing thi^ might have somf thing to do with the matter, would have sent for a doctor if Ellen had not b^;g^ him not to do so. Anyone who had had experience of drunken people would have seen at a glance what ^e matter was, but my hero knew nothing about them— nothing, that is to say, about the drunkenness of the habitual drunkard, which shows itself very differently from that of one who gets drunk only once in a way. The idea that his wife could drink had never even crossed his mind, indeed she always made a fuss about taking more than a very little beer, and never touched ^irits. He did not know much mon about hysterics thanhe did about drunkeniMSB, but be had always neard that women who were abcmt to become mothers were liable to be easily upset and were often rather flif^ty, so he was not greatly surprisnl, and thought he had settled the matter by registering the discovery that behig about to become a father has its troublesome as wdl as its pleasant side. The great change in Ellen's life consequent upon her meeting Ernest and getting married had for a time actually sobered ho- by shakmg her out of her old ways. Drunkoi' ness is so much a matter of habit, and habit so nmch a matter of surroundings, that if you con^tetdy chai^^ the sairoundings you will sometimes get lid of the dnmkeuiass The Way of AM Flesh 339 before, hdi^ytd^e^^n^^J^^J^JtX'^^^ ?* have been if she had M«a niS^ «; i. ^I ^^?^ ""^^ When, howe^^! hS ^ Srw^ SJit*"^'?^**"^- Sfwness, and when her 3d aStSJSSS. V ^°^k**» her present surroundinm beS^^f ?if*?® *° "^ ^' MT obiect wu not to trv luid inJr^k-r S*? i " °°*' wittj,mt her taabud'^ Slw it^ """• >»* *» ««t gin *^.*J»t happy tune Should come. P**^"* to siv^ eSS^**. ™ ««?«*»y better, as long that it UMndtwaywiihontkiininiinr. NeverthdiM. h. h^ « RoBjhlwo^gl,. or « Brtteoby, Mri to Jo« ttX^ 340 The Way of All Flesh It ija not only that he had to do so much houadiold rS « «*TS? *^* cooJdng, cleaning up slops, bed-maldng •nd fire-lighting ere long devolved Gpon him. but Wi bttsiTOjs no longer prostHJed. He could buy as hithwto. n2J ^i.^L5!l?f «>W M ^»«U M ever, but kept bade S^!2l^ *? •^^ *^* unsuspecting Ernest ou^t to S57i5r*^u?^*.'^°°**«^"»«*he tenth. WhS^she £^^f «^L" ^"^ "iL^^*" "^ ^^ °o* *W«k it sale to lyep back more than a certain amount, she got money out JftJ¥* i*^*^^ P«^*»*P irrepara^dMBage the baby ?hS".^^ "^ denieTher. All sinediSt. S^^ jWe, and unavoidable, nevertheless Ernest saw thatu^ tteconfin«nient was over he was likely to have a hardOC 01 it All however would then come right again. CHAPTER LXXV ^^ S^tj^^^^ i860 a rill WM bom, and STJS!!-'"J!ii*°4 SfPP7- ^"»* «rth of the chfld. ^««>*«i^lW for a few week^ Si2?«?Jj*2S. '^ *»»«* to be fulfinea. The «. SSi * "r^* oooiinement were heavy, and Iw wat oMgjd to trench upon his saving*, but he had no doubt njwtt^ it seemed as tl»^ the interruption to^ projPttity had in some way broken the apdl ol xood luck jWAh^at^endedWmintheout^ Jojw, aiKi worlwd night and day with a wiB. bwTthere 2SdIS«SSL^^?iJ?" T^^* ** '^^N: now. Hit Sunday otttinii were p«t a stop to, tad but fartht tret iaor The Way of AH Flesh 341 behurlet to mvidf, he would have lost his citadel there 2S?^ ^ *****y' *°^' *• » consequence, Ernest hadto wdt more and more upon EUcn. ."nwinaaio h.H?llf*2["°°"' 1^^ * ~"P^« o' raonths after the babv had been born, and just as my unhappy hero was b«rfn^ne to feel more hopeful and th^efore better abletoffiSI iS^^^^*"™1^"l.* ^.*' «^d found ECSftt wmehysteical condition that he had found her in in the gto^ She said she was again with child, and Emei?s£l th^^ ^^'* ""l^^ preceding six months began again M^-^^*^' "<*,8rew worse and worse co^Sy^ k^t>^.l~"5i" ?."*^^y' '°^ EUen cheated^by S^ Wh^ i?i^ improperly with the ^oods he hSS ««^ i^^i'^u"?* "* **»« K''* >t out of him as ir^. ^tuSitfSTd^l^U^nei.^^^^ S^IJ^S*^ ^°"' S^Srhe^li^parroLe'^ foreMen mi|^t and ought to have been so, but now biUs tSS;;,**°h^i,?^* to him for things ordiSd ^hS Jitbout his knowledge, or for whi^HS had alreadV riv^ fei?*k?^:2Lj^]^ »^^' «»d even &S2t tiSS t^titoifi^bjt for havtof sdd nothing to him?^^ SrL!r«iL?T*w S^*>» aS ttto'oS^^w * JT'^^*" P"™t ''i™«U from flndM I-d -tUed mo» «rf more deeply upoo M, fiS,Z?hS 346 The Way of All FleA About made up my mind to put an end to the lituation by a Mi^ ^ MMfi, nich at bribing Ellen to run away with aome- body elM, or something of that kind, when matten lettled themselves as usual in a way which I had not anticipated. CHAPTER LXXVI The winter had been a tryfaig one. Ernest had only paid his way by selling his piano. With this he seemed to cut away the last link that connected him with his earlier hie. and to sink once for all into the small shop-keeper. It seemed to him that however low he might sink us pain could not last much longer, for he should simply die if it did. He hated Ellen now, and the pair lived in open want of Iwraaony with each other. If it had not been lor his children, he would have left her and gone to America, but he could not leave the children wiUi Ellen, and as for takins them with him he did not know how to do it, nor what to do with them when he had got them to America. If he had not lost energy he wot M probably in the end have taken the children and gone off, but his nerve was shaken, so day after day went by and nothing was done. He had only got a few shillings in the world now, except the vahie of his stock, which was very little ; he could get P^oafM £3 or A by sdlinc his music and what few pictures and pMoes of nmuture still belonged to him. He thmi^t of trying to Uve by his pen, but his writing had droppedoff kog ago ; he no lonser had an idea in his head. Look which way he would he saw no hope ; the end, if it had not actually comj, was within easy distance and he was ahnost face to face with actual want. When he saw people going about pooriy dad, or even without shoes and ^ockings, he wondered whether within a few months' time he too should not have to go about in thb way. The remorseless, resistless hand of ^te had cau^t him in its grip and was dragging him down, down, down. Still hs The Way of AH Flesh 347 r«» DMT on. of the*^th. in theGr^PwiT °" '» "» lambs only a dav ortSo ni/»S?- ??P, ^'^ ^'*^ »n»M ■««PP«I to look »t th«I. B_ ^ f? womtar way one •»<• the piir AoAh^. witJ . «.w ., «„ S48 The Way of AU Flesh Bmert Mind how tUt was. «i \^^i '^irSr^" ^ J**"* "' '^ •>wtyt iMiA food 2Jr**J!^ ^•"' ^^°°» 5W» remember raniiing after. JiMter Erneet, and giving your watch to. I enect you hji^loi«>tt«i that day. have vou?" A^tee^ JMghed. ••! don't know aa I be the father of the child •be carried away with her from Battenby. but I very ^',^L^r ^' T^y^'^' t^^ ^ ^ Wt ylSr papai place a few daya I wrote to EUen to an addieia we M agreed upon, and told her I would do what I ought to 2'Jf° SJ ^^ '°' ^ married her within a moothafter. JJjrda. Why, Lord love the man. whatever ia the matter witj him? —for aa he had spoken the laat few wonb s^'isiifs'^""^"'' - ' -^ -^ *# li * '" •^^^^y J>«ro» gan)ing for breath. " are yon sura ^^ you My-Htfe you quite sure you reaUy Wried le^tear at Letchbury on the 15th of August 1851. ^Qve me your arm." said Ernest, " and take me into HoMddly, and put me into a cab. and come with me at «^,,3fo« can spare time, to Mr Overton's at the CHAPTER LXXVII 1*2J?****?^ ?™** *»«»«»" "^ »«<* mow pleased at fining that he had never been married than I w£I!!to min, however, the shock of pleasure was positively numbiM m it» mtensity. As he fdt his burden JemovedfhewSS fcr Uie unaccustomed tightness of his movS^nts?^ CS?S.!J!L5 •^**«^ t^t W» W«tity seemed to have S2»S*"*?!i*'**» he was as one wddng up froml bomWemghtmare to find himsdf safe and^^ Si JJ^JSS ^^y^^ y«t believe that the room is wt Wl pf armed men who are about to spring iqx» hii^ The Way of All Flesh 349 ftr.^i." jJi" •>? "J* " «*<> not »n hour »«o compUned ta^k^todSLi;. ""■• " "~ «n""0 o. to tfli *. • •^'IfifP'J ?** ?• ** »o* Tennyson who hat laid- .t^^f' *° ^^ '°^ »"*> »<>•*' ^n«verto hive uii "You are an inveterate bachelor/' was the rejoinder. g note pon the ipot. He aaid, '^ EUen had uied to ^i^ things to SSTf'J^'J^i" '^^^ ^ o«^bon»'. That's h^TsS l^teto^blefirrtwhenlwSTwithher. DnringtbLS nj>*ksAe w in pito I should have fdt happ^^^ SLl^iSf 12^ °?*l^*u"«^ AndfiS^he^ SSf y* «nd before she had been free a fortnight, she 09§ui shop-Uftinff and eoing on the k)ose agato-Mid^ «^ came up to London, and went tato service again ^ pjSi"?.* *°^7^* had b«ame of her till^^*^ SSSi^i^"^ I »«>P* you'U neither Vf jl^^ t^ aiwred hfai w» would keep his connsd, «kl then he 3SO The Way of All Flesh W? tJS -3^°* !f ^ **« •»wtyt much attaclMd. ^?*h!yV.?^ then to come to term, with EuTcoT wning their ftiture curtody ; m for heneli. I pcopoted i^Lr f^S? n«ke her an allowance of. iy, VpSSd vJ^a!^^ ^^u^ long o the gave no ttSnU^ Before tl« day TO two houri dder we had got3« chaw and had confided them to the care of my laimdrS^vSod S»ro:^:^' who took to Lm and^TiXS 2^^'.1!2St*:S^ttt'*?^^ •hodc the break-up woidd be to her. Hewasalw^SiS! fagthat people ^ a claim upon him for iome inSiSb •oviw tW had nmdeied him. or for tome i^SaSe miKhief done to them by hinwaf; the caiTSSww JSS,^' *^* Emert'. KTuple. did not^er^SS i«JLlS* °?*..!?17^^X> •'"wld have the pain of another r'j^^JT"^ ^* ^'^^ on* *>»* we neednothave Z^n. v*^ *? **~o°»in« »n ootcart again. Enicat ■•'IiiP'iS^^.*^ n^Wwur who had caKdUm do«m ^"^wtohehadfirt^^^ JM^ an£got ^ her iome detaili of Ellen'a opiniont upon 22 S^\J^^.^, not leem in the kartSSdSS •Wcken; she laid: "Thank coodneia. at lartTAS althoudi aware ttat her manSige waa not a valid one, h^^l "**S^.?"*ff/ ™*» ****•*! ^Wch it would^ be worth Mybody't while to go into mow particularly. i^b^ttm'^rSl!^ *^' -^ "'^ ''^^^^ ♦ J2!S I?*'" ■H«»*in«»i " don't iuit me. Ernest is ;Sf^ . i"f • ^,^»^*«» woman aa Shan be a bH better than me, and I want a man that ahaU be a bit woiae than be can do better uoney, he may give jone me any luuin, The Way of AU Flesh 351 £^* i;«?&''^i5f ^ *~ •♦•^y • »»i* being in^SoJ MM t done him a bit of good— he'a jtitt as nave m/S^ Sr«?2?£^4^'^^^'r:'"*- What u. poor girbwanto SJ!l*;> jte°^ «P •'11 of a sudden and mSe h^ w^ of ; thi.1. uy v'^^ for ut and throiSrui oHS CTt^^tSr. ^'■''^^ •'^'' "^'i ^ ' «» to be go<;d for a SI 2?^ J 2?^ ^" 5'*^*'' * ' *^i s out as much as we 2f "tAnd- He may hi..i ih.- chilli tor them than T r? j. ami as or hj« it or keep it as he hk.js, h s f..-.vr fSi^J^v'^'^' ^' '^'«t »f l»e mttms ^ to la*^ it' A^ thought Ern-^st tc !a,nself again when the hSXS;^'^' "^ "' ' ^"^ ^^ °»^ ^^ though? S,^«!J?5LP*^ ttofj^-^he gave it up and fSkha SS^^S^SSw t^?^. .?^ di came with! 2?Kr«L2^ „wbichaboyhadthrowedastoneandhit ZLKw"***^ » but on the whole she looked^ttv S?.??hfSL'* ^ 'Si*^^ *^ *^«^ yeaS^TslStS Xto^SS^f^' J^ Jbe explaiS^that she ^ S?iS*!S TT^ *«^- J'' ^tery saw her on this, jndhp^ted out to h« that she would 4ry likdy be ^ ;rS2^sh?Si^*l2l'?- "YoTiaycSlitXJ SS. Ml ♦Sri!7fci but I am going off to America with BiB the butcher's man. and i^ hbpe Mr PmSiu 35^ The Way of AD Fidh •JJ UttJj Kkdy to do this, » the pair went in p«M5e. I Fr^one or two Httk things I have been able te mUmt ttattiieconrfe got on very well together, and that El Bffl ^^iJSi' RSfSfuSSt!? "S^ to her than either JohnorEmeat. On hia birthday Enieit genewlly receivti tt enveKMje with an American poat-mark containing a JSS25S; "^^ * ^^*^ *««* "Pon it. orTmwd J^ae-hdder, or tome other similar traan token of woogni. tioo. bat no letter. Of the dnldien she has talmao nouca* CHAPTER LXXVra EiNSST wu now wen tamed twenty-slx years old. and in htttemore than another year and a half would come into posseanon of his money. I saw no reason lor letting him u it eariier than the date fixed by Miss Fbntilnrheiw •elf; at the same time I did not Uke his continoiRff the •hop at BhKdcfricn after the present crisis. ItwMnot tin now that I foUy understood how much he had soflerad. iSL if^-^y ^ •oppoaed wile's habits had bioaS him to actoal want. ^•^ I had indeed noted the old wan worn kwk settlint ODon h^ Isc^ bat waa either too indolent or too hOTdenof Mngabto to Mstahi a protracted nd sacceMfufwaitee i^EUen to extend the synqpathy and make the inqniiiss iMikdiIsappoaeloaahttohavemade. AndyetlSardlT taow what I coold have done, for nothing short of m giding out what he had found out would have detaehed him from his wife, and nothing could do him rnnch aood as long as he continued to Hve with her. After aU I suiyose I was right ; I suppoae things did tun out aH the better in the end for haS^TbesftlCfk to The Way of AM Flesh 353 •»«y*i>'>« that iehSsSAJJA.^ "** ' ""y "y. » tWiW » like victori«XtI^ttlWiS^ *??•• """^ •B theptta* I could bittoi nSS wrr*^ '"?• j*^*<»th •tMd the loiS^ .™ .y g^^^ by making him oader. lasiiite oommerdal activitv »ii«<.ii <.^^^ "«*•. Mia the a A 354 The Way of AM Flesh tnoredly hit th« right nail on the b«td wfaoi be cnitairind hb typkal wiie man «• knowii^ " the ways andiHiBai oi many men." What caltofe k comparable to tbtoTwbat a lie. what a sickly defatiitoting debaoch did oot Ernaef • idwol and uniwraity career nofw leem to him, in com- pariaon with hit Hie in piaon and as a tailor in BlackMais. I have beard him say ne would have gone throi^ aft be bad suffered if it were only for the de^ bisiglrt it gave Um into the wftit of the Grecian and the Surrey parto- nimea. What confidence a|^ in bis own poww to anim if thrown into deep waters had not be won through Us experiences dnring the laat thrje years I But, as I have said, I thought mv godson had now seen aa moch of the under currents of me sa was bkety ta be of ose to Um, and that it waa tiaoe be bifsa to Kv,^ in a style more suitable to his prospects. His ami bad wMmmI him to Um the soa, and he had Uned it with a tiim ii ; but I did not like the notion of his comii^ luriilm^y f ^m the position of a smaU shopkeq>er to that of a man with an iactaub of between three and lour thousand a year. Too sudden a junu> from bad fortune to good is ^ as dangeraos as one from good to bad; besides, powty is ▼ery wearing ; it is a quasi-embryonk conditka, tbros^ wirirb a man bad better pass if be is to bold his later ds- ▼etopmsBts securely, but Uke meesles or scarlet fafir be had better have it mildly and get it over eady. No man is sale from losing ev«y penny be baa in the wodd, onkm be has bad bis fsoer. How often do I not bear middle^iged women and quiet famfly men say that they have no specubilive Isndency; lliy never had touched, and new woaki touch, amr but the vwy soundest, bsst rcimted investments, and aa lor anUndtad liability, oh dear I dear I and they throw if> their *»*«*dll commonly, indeed, wind up bis dli- ttwae by saving that in nite of all Ids aatonl eantion, and bis w^ knowing bow {o(diah speeulatkm ii, y«t there are seme inveetmenta wbkb sre cdM qnmhittTf bnt in ^'■mNm^''i^-rCfmmm^'.^:^mm:i':T:r^^ The Way of AH Flesh 355 yy^J^ ^^ J»» ft»c«-, as he had had wTaSff of r^iwrtttne greater than this as happening to anvman wav I^S'L?' I fed on this subjwT&at tflSd my SLi ^?£ t?"^ * ^l»P»»^**on "^ attached toe^ S3i p2L*»?» ^5>«M be encouraged to i^ gJJJ^Md shoold esUfalish a stock ezchance amoMit J5«n^ m which pence should stand m^wSs^E «t them see how this makinff hM*»#r--4-Kr^* "" in actual practice Tw^i-Ki^ get nch moneys out S^l^rT-g!??™- . J»«« n»*«iit be a prise awarded by 31 w 52?* ^ «» most prudent deSer. and tSbw JJotorttWr m<»ey time after time should be dfSiS 2«*^"?y »»y proved to have a genius tosSJS: I heard of one case in which a fatherMSJ^afri^ ^ideatoto practice. He wanted Srs<^l^l2J?to2 •adtofag srtlcles. and found him Ive hSiSre?p^ S^^Z^^*?*J!?°«y' but it cHd not torn y?^_.P?^.^_^ boy took so much pihis «^ l%«l so caiitioosly that the money k^ grcSfaJ ^ 356 The Way of All Flesh pBwiM tBI ih» IfttlHr took it tony acain. incnoMit Md ■B-<«lie in» ptaMrt to say, In ids defeocc. InMiMde »y own mittakes with money about tlM y«ar x«46, !■■•■ myone else was making them. For a lew !?^A°^ ^ "o •c""*^ and had suffered so seventy, gat ^]*« (owiM to the good advice of the broker w& iMd MMsed my father and grandfather before me) I came ZX^fi? \^« •«»<» not a loser. I i^ved no more pcanin. but kept hmceforward as nearly in the middle of the middk mt as I could. I tried in fact to keep mv mow nther than to make more of it. I had done with Arnetrs laoney as with my own— that is to say I had let it tfooe after investing it in Midland ordinary stock ae- cor^ to XisB Ptotifex's instructions. No amount of trouble would have been likely to have increased my cod- sons estate on»haIf so much as it had increased wkhout mytaUng any trouble at all. nJ^iSlf iS!S!L?* i*"^ ^ °' ^"«"* ^«50. when I sold out Miii Pontifex's debentures, stood at Aa per /loe. I faveirtjd itte whole of Ernest's £15.000 at th£wKr«id Jd not clijii« tte mvestment tm a few months G& the time ^ whk^ I have been writing lately— that is to say y^Smtember x86i. I then sdS at £139 per share imd ttmted hi Locdon and North-Westcm ordinary stock. wWchlwas advised was more likely to rise than KOdlaiids aam wure. I bought the London and North- Western stock « £93 P«r £zoo. and my godson now in x88a stfl ImUs it. The otigiBal {15,000 had increased in deven yiMi «» 1 Aaare>iiiv«sted, had come to about £zo,ooo more, so ft iitt meat WM then worth over £;o,ooo. At present he is wwu neany (k>uble that sum, and all at the rttrft of teving wdl alone. Lwfsaa hJiwop«ty now was. it ou|^t to be hicreased matmwtr during the year and a half that renaiBsd of his minority, so that on coming of age he ou^ to havaaa I ^fl «M of a t hast £3500 a year. ^^ I wiaiied him to umleretand book-lnqjfaig by dosUe entry. I had myself as a young man been eon^ified to The Way of AH Flesh 357 mttler thb oot very dUBcnlt art ; haTinc acqaired ft, I have become enamoured of it, and ooMu it the mott ne<»8ary branch of any young man's education after reading and writing. I was determined, therefore, that Ernest should master it, and proposed that he should be- come my steward, book-keeper, and the manager of my hoardings, for so I called the sum which my ledger showed to have accumulated from £15,000 to £70,000. I tdd him I was going to begin to spend the income as soon as it had amounted up to £80,000. A few davs after Ernest's discovery that he was still a bachetor, while he was still at the very b^inning of the honeymoon, as it were, of his renewed unmarried life, I broached my scheme, desired him to give up his shop, and offered him £300 a year for managing (go far indeed as it required any managing) his own property. This jTjoo a year, I need hardly say, I made him clutrge to the estate. If anything had been wanting to complete his HappTM^ it was tbis. Here, within three or four days he found hinmslf freed from one of the most hideous, hqMksslMMMis imaginable, and at the same time raised from a lile of ahnost equator to the enjoyment of what would to him be a hai^ome income. " A pound a week," he thought, " for Ellen, and the fwt for mysdf." " No," said I, " we will charge Ellen's pound a weak to ilie eirtate also. You must have a dear £300 for your- I fixed upon this sum, because it was the one whkh Mr Disraeli gave Coningsby when Coningiby was at the lowest ebb of his fortunes. Mr Disraeli evidently thought Aoo a year the smallest sum on which Coningsby coula be expected to live, and make the two ends meet ; with this* however, he thought ha hero could manage to get akmg lor a year or two. In 1862, of which I am now writing, pnctf. had risen, thou|^ not so much as tbey have since done ; on the otho- hand Ernest had had less expensive antecedents than Coningsby, so on tlM wlu>le I tnought £^00 a year would be about the ri^t thing lor him. 3S8 The Way of AH Flesh CHAPTER LXXIX 'SSt^'^fLHT^uST :S^^ WM to be doiM with thi WOMB. I oqdaiiMd to Ernest that thtir «an^M BMt °™»l^,''h«i I qukted him by pojntiag o^thatSI inoMy hjd tU come to me from hfiTMaTcnSSmm heed, end remiiided him there had been an trndentaa^ betwein her and me that I ihould do much MlwM^Sf if oocaiion iboukl ariie. •«««■• i w» oomj, He wanted hb children to be brought up in the friih pweafr, and an^ other children vSo w^ h^^ awaitwl him. he insisted that they •hould paM th^ mSt y^Mwig the poor rather than the rich. IwnSitoSdL tiSJt^v't:?^^/^"' ** ' •"^ whTlTSSS wjttliey were ille^tanate. I waa not sore but that wlMt gnert proposed might be aa weU for everyone hi ti»«d. TJjr were atiU so yoimg that it did not i^^i^riSw I shaU be jait as onkiad to my cfaildrw." ha Mid. " •• hS^J^yl li^yto^dfthatlSSSlitoSrS; bot so did they. I can make sure that they ihaB not toS ♦L? j;iHL2^ ^* tW« i« •» I can do. ^Ifl S»t^ their promcts. let me do so at a reasonable ti^hi^ thev are Sd enough to led it/' ^^^^°* **•**" He mused a UtUe and added with a laugh .•— nu.il.fllf ^^ T2™*? "^^ ^ ^*J»«r about thiee. quMta. of a year Before he is bom. IttothenheSto «jettingupasq)arateeatahliriaaeirt; whsn tUehM been once egreed to. the more complete Uie iiJiiSite f The Way of AU Flesh 359 •Hw tiw brttflr for both." Umb 1m Mid _ Mrioudy : " I wtat to put tht children wh«w thty will bt wti tad happy, and whan thay win not be betrayed talo the miaary of falaa oqiactatioaa." In the and ha ramawibarad that on hia Sunday walka ha had Hova than onoa aaan a conpla who hired on the water- aide a few nika below Graveaend, jnat where the aea waa batinniM. and who ha thoogfat would do. TMy had a fanfly oftheir own faat coming on and the children aeemed to thm ; both father and mother indeed were comf ort- •Ua wan grown folka, hi whoae handa young people would be Ukaly to have ea fair a chance of coming to a good de- yt k no mt aa hi thoae of any whom he knew. We want down to tee th» couple, and aa I thought no kaa wall of them than Emeat did, we oSerad them a pound a wmk to take the diildren and bring them up aa tnoui^ they were thek own. They jumped at the offer, and in anothar day or two wa brought the children down and left than, feeling that we had done aa well aa we could by than, at any rata for the preaant Then Emcat aent hu anall atock of gooda to Ddwnham'a, gave up the houae he had taken two and a half yaara previouily, and returned tocfyiliaatieft. I had aapacltid that he would now rapidly recover, and waa diauifMintad to aee him get aa I thowht deddmily wona. Indeed, befne kng I thoui^t him looking «o iu that I imialiifi on hia gobg w^ me to conault one of the ■Hat wihiant dectora in Loadoo. Thia gmtlonan aaid there waa no acute diieaae bwt that my young friend waa anflaring from nervooa i»oalnti(m, the reeult d lo^ and aavara mental anflering, fram which there waa no remedy aBoa^ time, proaperity and reat. Ha aaid that Emaat moat have broken down ktar on, but Htmt ha ndgfat have gone on for tome montha vet. It waa the enddeunem of the rehef from tension which bad knocked him over now. "Croaahhn," aaid the doctor, "at once. Croaiiag is the great medical diaoovary of the age. Shake him out of Um- aatf by ahaking aonwtMng elae into him." I had not told him that money waa no object to ua and MH 36o The Way of All Flesh IJJjWkhihiid nckooed mt op « not ow lidL H* "Sm^ to a modt of tonching, toucUag to ft mod* ol Mtmii. feeding to a mode of Mrimflfttfaii, ;;^«imn»Hiw to • modt of recreation and rqirodnction, and thto to rrnMhii 7-«liAkinf^ yonnelf into imnetWng etoe and iometUii|eiie Heipplnlaagliingly, bnt it wat plain he was icfioaa. He oontinoed :— " Ptople are alwayt coming to me who want cio«inff. or chanm, if von prefer it, and who I know have notmoney •ooMf to let them get away from London. Thto hat let me tl^ildng how I can beet croM them even if they cannot toave hOTM, and I haye made a list of cheap London amuse- ments wfai<^ I recommend to my patients ; none of them cost more than a few shillings or take more than half a dav I MEplained that there was no occasion to consider money in thto case. "JuBflMofit/'hesaid^stilllanghing. "TliehomoBo. patUsts use Mmum as a medicine, but^ey do not gtva it in large doees enough; if yon can dose your yoni« friend f dth thto pretty freely you wiU soon hSaglSS^nmid, However, Mr Pontif ex to not well enough to stand so mat 'i.**ffC.*lf°*¥t^'****3^! from wtoat yon teO aae I ■ho^M^thinklehadhadasmuc^ for Um. If he were to go abroad now he woidd wobahlv be taken seriously m wfthin a week. We mustVnSH hehasrseoimedtoneaUttlemore. I will UcIb by iIm. inc my London changes on Um." ^^ ^^ Be thought a little and then said :— " I have found the Zook)gical Gardens of service to many of my patients. I should prescribe for Mr Pontilex a course of the larger mammato. Don't let him ♦h ^^ he tt taking them medidnallv, but let him go to thek house twice a w^ for a fortnight, and stay wi3i the hippopota- ^iS! '^fTSl '^V^ e»q>J»*nts, till they 1^ to bonhim. I find these beasts do my patients more good tftM any others. The monkeys are not a wide enmich **•«"• th^ do not stimulate sufficiently. The lai^ -Kkr-.-iii<*.^ ^tH '^- .MF*^V9 The Way of All Fleah 361 Mny i np athetic Tht rwtflM an ivont than ittdiM, and tha maxMipialt an not moch battar. Birdi again, axcapt parrota, an not venr banafidal ; ha mav look at them now and again, but with the alephanta and the pig tribe generally he tiiottld mix jnat now aa fndy ' Then, yoa know, to pnvent monotony I ahoold lend him, lay, to mominff service at the Abbey befon he foea. He need not stay longer than the Te Dtum. I dni't know why, bnt JubilMn are seldom satisfactory. Just let him look in at the Abbey, and sit quietly in Pbets' Comer till the main part of the music is over. Let him do this two or three thnes, not more, before he goes to the Zoo. " Then next day send him down to Gravesend by boat By all means let him go to the theatrea in the evenings— and then let him come to me again hi a fortni^t." Had the doctor been less eminent in his professioa I should have doubted whether he was in earnest, but I knew him to be a man of business who would ndtbo: waste hb own time nor that of hia patienta. As soon as we wen out of the house we took a cab to Regent'a Park, and vpviX & couple of hours in sauntering round the different houses. Pmi^)s it was on account of what the doctor had told ma, fai^ I certainly became aware of a feeUng I had nevtsr ex* p a f iMi JUil before. I mean that I was receiving an influx of aasr Itfe, or deriving new ways of k)oking at^fo— ^diich is Aa same thing— by the process. I found the doctor quite riflht in Ua estimate of the larger mammals aa the onea which CO the whole wen moat beneficial, and observed that Ernest, who had heard nothing of what the doctor had said to me, Ui^^ered instinctively in front of tiiem. As for the elephants, especially the baby elephant, he seemed to be druUdng in large draughts of their lives to the recreation and rageonation of his own. We (fined in the gardens, and I noticed with {deasnn that Ernest's appetite was already improved. Since thia tiiB% whenever I have been a little out of sorts myself I have 1^ OBot gcme up to Rw^t's Park, and Ittve mvari* ably been be n efi te d. I mentwn this han in the hope that QWjjl-rv -rJfc.i*<.?I»'!Waf»«' 36a The Way of All Ffesk MM «M or «llMr Q< 0qr mdm my ted 4ht liil a At tlM «id ol Ut lortnklit 07 k«o wm m !?S* "?. r*^ ^'^"^ <^ 'nn^ «• doctor had — ■>— ■ooBtr tnt Mttor. IM Mm ttey t coimlt of monl^'' nil m tho fifit Eratit hid hM^abootSTMlM ***«««>loot I aooii modi t& an ri^ ^^ Ith nejr ao bogliinfa^ of April.*' i3d I. " io dona to •MB tto wvtan to G from Geaoo «o to flaciMtu I Mid I did not mind if I dkl. w wTbmSto •"M fM Mrti BMct morning, ond complotod tin CHAPTER LXXX VJ^Wt by tho night mafl.croMi]» from Dow. Thoniiirt wwtotft. and tbera was a brijit moon mon tiio m^ •• Don't jj» love tha imdl of ^ aboatXaSir!i MM ttn aot to me, lor lie had been to Norman^ one ^.■* r**y! *™ one of the beat parte of goint obrond k 2«jfc»t thnd of ttopirton, and Se fint mJiirStiJ wrter when the paddleb«^ to itrike it.'^ •«« w «a «iJi73#!!1L?"'^ *?**¥ ®^ »* Celai^ and tmdgiaK w«jeneraUyJ»th of us m bed and fwt Mimp, bnt we Mttied down to sleep as soon at we cot t^-^^ - coniage, and doied till we had paaaed The Way of All Fleah 363 tht flnl iipM of Bon^ orinMM ii«« b» aimiriBi tmr ob|«et w* MMod whh oiriaiiiiiM^llm wifeiiilMrliiitbiiid'tbttMidc(»tw»viiwagrMQflM.iiot !L'W'!l5i?« **"\if? ■•'^ **»*»»• <>«nr I*iH^^ cot^iii. bat iM WM 6ia3dag iUnto withim mk\oyamA toodMplorwordik The namt ol Um tnciiM that <^ « » MoMrt. and Erawt MlMd thk too.^^ W« rMchad Paria by rix, and had jnrt time to Ml acmt the town and take a morning expme tiain to ^..^^fl faf bat beiore noon my yoongmend wae tired oat and had we lgned himwlf to a eeriee of deqw wMeh were eddom iatemittted for more than an hour or eo tofethcr. He faogbl againit tfaie for a time, but in the end coneoled himielf by eaviiw it wae 10 nice to have to mnch pleaeara that he ooold afford to throw a lot of it away. Having found a theory on which to justify himself, be slept in At Marseilles we rested, and there the excitement of the change proved, as I had half feared it would, too much for my godson's still enfeebled stote. For a few days he was resily ill, hot after this he righted. For my own pert I redmi being ill as one of the great pkesures of lils, pro- irifled OMisnottooiUandisnot obliged to work till one is better. I remember beii« ill once in a foreign hotel myeeU and how much I enj<^ it. To lie there careless ol everything, qoiet and warm, and with no weight upon the mind, to hear the chnking of the platee in^ ter-oi kildien as the scullion rinsed them and put them by ; to watdi the soft shadows come and go upon the flniiiti | r «« the son came oat or went behind a ckmd; to listen to the pleasant murmuring of the fountain to the court below, and tiM shaking of the beDs on the horsee' ooOaia and the dink of their hoofs upon tl^ ground es the fliee plegoed them ; not only to be a totus-eatcr but to know that it was one's duty to be a totua^ter. " Oh," I thou^ to ayiei^ " if I could only now, having so locgotten caf% MICROCOPV RESOUITION TBT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) I.I 1m |2J tim IIIH Hi. 112 |3^ IK 1^ U H. u |25 2.0 1.8 ^ >^PPLIED IM/^GE Inc 165} East Moin Street Rochmter, tttm York 14609 USA (716) ^2 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288-5989 -Fox 364 The Way of All Flesh dnm off to sleep for ever, would not this be a better piect of fortune than any I can ever hope for ? " ^^ Of course it would, but we would not take it though it were offered us. No matter what evil may befall uZ we will mostly abide by it and see it out. I could see that Ernest felt much as I had fdt myself He said Uttle, but noted everything. Once only did he mghten me. He called me to his bedside just as it was ?***f!?,M"*x aod said in a grave, quiet manner that he should like to speak to me. " I have been thinking," he said, " that I may perhaps never recover from this iUness, and in case I do not Ishould like you to know that there fs only one thmg which weighs upon me. I refer," he continued after a slight pause. ''to my conduct towards my father and mother. I have been much too good to them. I treated them much too consider- fcVl^ °^ ^'"* ^^ ^™^« ">*o a «n»Ie which assured me that there was nothing seriously amiss with hun. On the walls of his bedroom were a series of French Revo- lution pnnts representing events in the life of Lycuigus. There was Grandeur d'4me de Lycuigue," and " Lycurgnc consulte I'oracle," and then there was " Calciope 4 li CoiS!^ Under this iiras wntten in French and Spanish :" Modde de grace et de beaut6, la jeune Calciope non moins safe aue beUe avait mdrit* I'estime et I'attachement du vStuebx Lycurgue. Vivement 6pris de tant de charmes, I'illustre philosophe la conduisait dans le temple de Junon. oi ils 8 unirent par un sennent sacr6. Apr6s cette auguste c^rA- monie, Lycurgue s'empressa de conduire sa jeune Spouse au palajsdesonfrirePolydectcRoideLacAi^on. Sgnenr. Im dit-il la vertueuse Calciope vient de recevoir mavoeuiJ f^r.^^ ^ *?i^'. i'°s« ,^0^ Pri«r d'approuver ctte umon. Le Roi tdmoigna d'abord quelque surprise, mais pleme de bienveillance. II s'approcha aussitdt de C^ope qu il embrassa tendrement, combla ensuite Lycunnie de provenances et parut tris satisfait." He called my attention to this and then said somewhat tamdly that he would rather have married EUen than calciope. I saw he was hardening and made no hesitation The Way of AU Flesh 365 about proposing that in another day or two we should proceed upon our Journey. I will not weary the reader by taking him with us over beaten ground. We stopped at Siena, Cortona, Orvieto, Perugia and many other cities, and then after a fortnight passed between Rome and Naples went to the Venetian provinces and visited all th se wondrous towns that lie be- tween the southern slopes of the Alps and the northern ones of the Apennines, coming back at last by the S. Gothard. I doubt whether he had enjoyed the trip more than I did myself, but it was not till we were on the point of returning that Ernest had recovered strength enough to be called fairly well, and it was not for many months that he so completely lost all sense of the wounds which the Lst four years had inflicted on him as to feel as though there were a scar and a scar only remaining. They say that when people have lost an arm or a foot they feel pains in it now and again for a long while after they have lost it. One pain which he had almost foi|;otten came upon him on his return to England. I mean the sthig of his having been imprisoned. As long as he was only a small shop-keeper his imprisonment mattered nothing; nobody knew of it, and if they had known they would not have cared ; now, however, though he was returning to his old position he was returning to it disgraced, and tfie pain from which he had been saved in the first instance by surroundings so new that he had hardly recognised his own identity in the middle of them, came on him as from a wound inflicted yesterday. He thought of the high resolves which he had made in prison about using his disgrace as a vantage ground of strength rather than trying to make people forget it. " That was all very well then," he thought to himself, "when the eczjtes were beyond my reach, but now it is different." Besides, who but a prig would set himself high aims, or make high resolves at all ? Some of his old friends, on learning that he had got rid of his supposed wife and was now comfortably off again, wanted to renew their acquaintance ; he was grateful to them and sometimes tried to meet their advances half 366 The Way of AH FlcA ^H*liL'"l"°* **' M°~ *J»«y most be. for if they^ »»» riSi Sr^ "onjjit wrong, but ,rtat he did w« ngoi. 1 said something c this IrinH ♦/* w-T^-T £t^ «« J"^*?^'' ^^oonnal. ever yet aim^ vS^S «t of pore mahce aforethought I onceiww a^.SR •truck i^LX^JS? **™*»*J»aP«rmu8can effort he tVShimi^£^S,m1fS?K™ °^ !°^^ ««>«^ and da^^miriSliL^ *^*? "^"^^ o^ difficulty Md SvSLl^L I! ^°> idth an increase of i»mU ^•^^fl^P®^ y'^***^'* ™>«*»t «ven descend fai^^ «»easure to his offering. BuTwiely he^S^,S SJS The Way of All Flesh 367 fot the increMed moral power if he could have helped it, and he will not knowingly alight upon another cup of hot cc^ee. The more I see the more sure I am that it does not matter why people do the ri^^t thing so long oiUy as they do it, nor why they may have done the wrong if they have dene it. The resist depends upon the thing done and the motive goes for nothing. I have read somewhere, but cannot remember where, that in some country d^trict there was once a great scarcity of food, during which tiie poor suffered acutely ; many indeed actuaUy died of starva- tion, and all were hard put to it. In one village, however, there was a poor widow with a family of young children, who, though she had small visible means of subsistence, still looked well-fed and comfortable, as also did all her Uttle ones. " How," everyone asked, " did they manage to live ? " It was plain they had a secret, and it was equally plain that it could be no good one; for there came a hurried, hunted look over tiie poor woman's face if anyone alluded to the way in which ^e and hers throve when others starved ; the family, moreover, were some- times seen out at unusual hours of the night, and evidently brought things home, which covdd hardUy have been hourly come by. They knew they were under suspicion, and, being hitherto of excellent name, it made them very unhappy, for it must be confessed that they believed what they did to be uncanny if not absolutely wicLed ; neverthdess, in spite of this they throve, and kept their strength when all their neighbours were pinched. At length matters came to a head and the ckxgymaM^ ci the parish cross-questioned the poor woman so dosd^ that with manv tears and a bitter sense of degradatioD die confessed the truth ; she and her duldrai vttai into the hedges and gathered snails, which they made into broth and ate— could she ever be forgiven ? Was there any hope of salvation for her either in this worid or the next after such unnatural conduct ? So again I have heard of an old dowager countess whose money was all in G>nao]s ; she had had many sons, and in her anxiety to give the younger ones a good start, wanted a * income than Consols would give her. She oon* 368 The Way of AH Flesh Sdl^* !?*l*"T"*i ~ »^^^ to seU her CoMob t^to th^^?^4,-^™* wa. to her whS^ti^SS; w to the poor widow whose story I have toSdrahovT With shwne and grief, as of one doii an mcl^ thW tS^ ^^ "^f ^T ^^ stai?ij£^d^£°^ SX^* A^^ 1°" * ^°°« ^^e ^^ could not Sd^ lOght and was haunted by a presage of d^ir^vJl ^tF^"^^ She started ?irgy;:^^;Sr* ^« found her capital doubled into the^Sn, on twS wnose advice was bad. and an ha a ir^ «ii u ""•••"^ JO convCaSn 0, d.^wo»ld h JiS.^* rf^'S^ felt more gratefully and warmly than ever toJ^wS* ttan Towneley and made my h«ro\teSMto hS with hmi more determinedly lihaps SS^wySSS The Way of AH Flesh 369 fiving penon; he thanked him in a low harried voice and pressed his hand, while tears came into his eyes in spite of afl his efforts to repress them. " If we meet agAi," he said, " do not look at me, bnt if hereafter you hear of me writing things you do not like, think of me as chari- tably as you can," and so they puted. " Towndey is a good fellow," said I, gravely, " and you should not have cut him." " Towndey," he answered, " is not only a good feOow, but he is without exception the very best man I ever saw in my Ufe— except," he paid me the compliment of saying, yourself ; Towndey is my notion of everything which I slu)u]d most like to be — but there is no real solidarity between us. I should be in perpetual fear of losing Us good opfaiion if I said things he did not like, and I mean to say a great many things," he continued more merrily, •• which Towndey will not like." A man, as I have said already, can give up father and mother for Oirist's sake tolerably easily for the most part, but it is not so easy to give up people like Towndey. CHAPTER LXXXI So he fen away from all old friends except myself and three or fomr (dd intimates of my own, who were as •axe to take to him as he to them, and who like myself enjoyed getting hold of a young fresh mind. Ernest attended to the keeping of mv accoont books whenever thtfe was anything which could possibly be attended to, iHikh there sddom was, and spent the greater part of the rest of his time in adding to the many notes i-ud tentati^ essays which had already accumulated in his portfolios Anyone who was used to writing could see at a cdance that literature was his natural devdopment, and 1 was pletaed at seeing him settle down to it so spontaneoody. I was leii ideased, however, to observe that he w^old sail 000^ himsdf with none bat the most serious* I had a s { ; 370 The Way of All Flesh almost said solemn, subjects, 1\uf as he never cared aboat any but the most serious kind of music. 1 said to him one day that the very slender reward which God had attachad to the pursuit of serious inquiry was a sufficient proof that He disapproved of it, or at any rate that He did not set much store by it nor wish to encourage it. He said: "Oh, don't talk about rewards. Look at Milton, who only got £5 for Paradise Lost.' " " And a great deal too much," I rejoined promptly. " I would have given him twice as much mysdf not to have written it at all." Ernest was a little shocked. " At any rate," he said laughingly, " I don't write poetry." Tnis was a cut at me, for my burlesques were, of course, written in rhyme. So I dropped the matter. After a tine he took it into his head to re-opoi the question of his getting ;^300 a year for doing, as he said, absolutely nothmg, and said lie would try to find 8(Mne employment which shoiild bring him in enough to Uve upon. I laughed at this but let him alone. He tried and tried very hBxd for a long while, but I need hardly say was unsuccessful. The older I grow, the more convinced I become of the folly and credulity of the public ; but at the same time the harder do I see it is to impose oneself vqpon that folly and credulity. He tried editor after editor with article after article. Sometimes an editor listened to him and told him to leavw his articles; he almost invariably, however, had them returned to him in the end with a pdite note saying; that they were not suited for the particular paper to which he had sent than. And yet many of these very articles appeared In his later works, and no one complained of them, not at least on the score of bad literary workmanship. " I see," he said to me one day, " that demand is vtxy impmous, and supply must be very suppliant." Once, indeed, me editor of an important monthly magazine accepted an article from him, and he thmig^t lie had now got a footing in the literary world. The article The Way of All Flesh 371 was to appw in the next issue but one. and he wm to S^\?"^ from the printers in about ten days or a totoright ; but week after week passed and there was no proof ; month after month went by and there was stiU ^«'S?lJ°L?/°''*'* *^*^*' ** ^"»««» after about ^ months the editor one morning told him that he had fiUed ejwy number of his review for the next ten months, but that bs artu^ should definitely appear. On thii he Inasted on having his MS. returned to him. SOTietimes his articles were actually published, and he found the editor had edited them acccTding to iT owJ i^y. putting m jokes which he thought^^ funnyTS cuttmg out the v«ay parage which Ernest had conside^ thepomt of the whole thing, and then, though the articles Weared, when it came to paying for them it was another matter, and he never saw his money. " Editora,"the said to me one day about this time, " are Uke the piople who ^^^\^^ sold in the book of RevelationT^Se L^o? one but has the mark of the beast upon hii." * J^* u *^*^^ months of disappointment and many a I^«i;\?°"' "Tl"^ ^ ^^ ante-rooms (and of all aite. rooms those of editors appear to me to be the dreariest) he got a ftofia /Wtf offer of employment from one of the first class weeUy p^ers through an introduction I was able to ^ for him frwn one who had powerful influence with tt»Mpcrm question. The editor sent him a dozen lone books upon varied and difficult subjects, and told him to review them in a sin^e article within a week. Inonebook tliere WM an editorial note to the effect that the writer WW to be amdemned. Ernest particularly admired the book he was desired to condemn, and feeling how hopeless l^J^ht' ^"^ *^ ^y^ Uke justice to the books submitted to him, returned them to the editor. At Ust one paper did actually take a dozen or so of articles from hun, and gave him cash down a couple of ^?JS?" "f**^.^?" ^^' ^^ J^avmg done this it e»ired withm a fortnight after the last of Ernest's articS^ WMTOd. It certainly looked very much as if the other editors ^ew their business in dedming to have anything to do with my unlucky godson. /«««6 37a The Way of All Flesh I wu not lorry that he (ailed with periodical Uteratwe, lor writing for reviewa or newtpapert u bad training for one who may asfrire to write worn of more permanent inHrik. A yonng writer ihould have more time for refleetioa than he can get at a contributor to the daily or even weel^ preM. Ernest himself, however, was chagrined at finding how unmarketaUe be was. " Why/' he said to m^ " If I was a well-bred horse, or theep, or a ptire>bred pigeon or fop>eared rabbit I should be more saleable. If I was even a cathedral in a colonial town people would give me something, but as it is they do not want me " ; and now that he was well and rested he wanted to set up a shop again, bat this, of course, I would not hear of. " What care I," said he to me one day, " about befaig what they call a gentleman?" And his manner was alm^ fierce. " What has being a gentleman ever done for me except make me less able to prey and more easy to be preyed upon ? It has changed the manner of my being smndwd, tibat is all. But for your kindness to me I should be penni* less. Thank heaven I have placed my children where I have." I begged him to keep quiet a little longer and not talk about t9kiiig a shop. " WHl beoag a gentleman," he said, " bring me money at the last, and will anything Imng me as much peace at the iMt as money will ? They say that those who have riches enter hardly into the kingdom of Heaven. By Jove, tbey do; tha^ are like Struldtarugs ; thej^UVe and nve and live and are ni^y for many a ]aag year after th^ would have entered into the kingdom of Heaven if they had been pow. I want to live long and to raise my children, if I see tl^y would be happier for the raising ; that is what I want, and it is not what I am dcnng now that will help mt. Being a gentieman is a luxury which I cannot afford, therefore I do not want it. Let me go back to my shop again, and do tUnga for people which they want done and win pay me kx domg fc» them. They know what tlunr want and vdiat is good for them better than I can tdl them." It was hard to deny the soundness of thiS| and U he had The Way of All Flesh 373 bt» dcpeodnt only on the £300 t yvar which ht wu gettmg tnm ne I ihould have adviied him to open hit •hop again next morning. Aa it was, I temporised and raised obstacles, and quieted him from time to time as best loould. Of course he read Bfr Darwin's boolcs as fast as they came out and adopted evolution as an article of faith. "It seems to me," he said once, " that I am like one of those caterpillars which, if they have been interrupted in making their hanmiock, must begin again from the be- gimiing. So long as I went back a long way down in the social scale I got on aU right, and should have made money but for Ellen ; when I tir to take up the work at a higher sta«e I fail completely.^' I do not know whether the analogy holds good or not, but I am sure Ernest's instinct was right in telling him that after a heavy fall he had better begin Ufe again at a very low stage, and as I have just said, I would have let him go back to his shop if I had not known what I did. As the time fixed upon by his aunt drew nearer I pre- pared him more and more for what was coming, ana at last, on his twenty-eighth birthday, I was able to tell him all and to show him the letter signed by his aunt upon her death-bed to the effect that I was to hold the money in trust for him. His birthday happened that year (1863) to be on a Sunday, but on the following day I transferred his shares into his own name, and presented him with the account books vMch he had been keeping for the last year and a half. In spite of all that I had done to prepare him, it was a bng while before I could get him actually to believe that the money was his own. He did not say much--no more did I, for I am not sure that I did not fed as much moved at having brought my long trusteeship to a satisfactory conclusion as Ernest did at finding hinudf owner of more than ;f70,ooo. When he did sp^ it was to jerk out a sentence or two of reflection at a time. " If I were render- ing this moment in music," he said, " I should allow mysdf free use of the augmented sixth." A Kttle later I remember his saying with a laugh that had something 374 The Way of AM Flesh of ft iamOy UlniMit to hb timt'i : " It it not tht plMnra ,.**"^"**.^'**** ^ «"J«y 80, It ii the pdn It wiB MWtito •u my friendt except yonnell and Tcwndey." I Mid : " YoQ caimot tell your latner and mother-it would drive them med." *««-^»* V "t^^*^* °®'" ^^ ^ " ** ""^^ ^ too cniel ; it would be like Isaac offering up Abraham and no thicket with a ram in It near at hand. Beaidet why ahould I ? V/ehave cut each other theae four yean." CHAPTER LXXXII It almost seemed as though our casual mention of Theobald and Christina Had in some way excited them from a dor- mant to an active state. During the yean that had eUpeed sinM they last appeared upon the scene they had remained at Battenby, and had concentrated their affection upon their other children. It had been a bitter pill to Theobald to lose his power of plaffuing his fint-bom ; if the truth were known I believe he had felt this more acutely than any disoace which might have been shed upon him by Ernest's imprisonment He had made one or two attempts to reopen negotiations through me, but I never said anything about them to Ernwt, for I knew it would upset hunTl wrote, however, to Theobald that I had found his son inexorable, and «ec(»nnwnded him for the present, at any nte, to desist from returning to the subject This I thouriit would be at once what Ernest would like best and Theobald least A few days, however, after Ernest had come into hia property, I received a letter from Theobald encbsinc one for Ernest which I could not withhold. Tlie letter ran thus : — "To mr SON Ernest,— Although you have more than once r^ected my overtures I appeal yet again to your better nature. Your mother, who has long been afling, is, I The Way of All Flesh 375 biUtvv, near her end ; ihe is unable to keep anythii^ on her ftainach, and Dr Martin holds out but little hopes of her recovery. She hat expressed a wish to see you, and •ayt she knows you will not refuse to come to her, which, considering her condition, I am unwilling to suppose you wilL '* I ret-iit you a Post Office order for your fare, and wiU pav vour return journey. '' If you want clothes to come in, order what you consider suitable, and desire that the bill be sent to me ; I will pay it immediately, to an amount not exceeding eight or nine pounds, and if you will let me know what tram you will come by, I will send the carriage to meet you. Believe me, Your affectionate father, T. Pontifex." Of course there could be no hesitation on Ernest's part. He could afford to smile now at his father's offering to pay for his clothes, and his sending him a Post Office order for the exact price of a second>claL ticket, and he was of course diocked at learning the state his mother was said to be in, and touched at her desire to see him. He tdegraidied that he would come down at once. I saw him a little before he started, and was pleased to see how weQ his tailor had done by him. Towndey himself could not have been appointed more becomingly. His port- manteau, hif railway wrapper, everything he had about him, was in keeping. I thought he had grown much better>k)oking than he had been at two or three and twenty. His year and a half of peace had effaced all the ill effects of his previous suffering, and now that he had become actually rich there was an air of insoueiancs and good humour upon his face, as of a man with whom ev^yuing was going perfectly right, which would have made a much plainer man good-looking. I was proud of hkn and delisted with him. "I am sure," I said to myself, "that whatever else he may do, he will never marry again." The journey was a painful one. As he drew near to the station and caught sight of each f amiUar feature, so strong was the force of association that he fdt as though \m coming 376 The Way of A« Flesh into Ut aunt's monev had been a dream, and he wore again wtun anf to his father's house as he had retained to it from Cuibildge for the vacations. Do wttt he would, the dd don weight of homS'tickness began to oppnsa him, his heart beat fast as he thought of his approadiuig meeting with his father and mother, " and I shall haveT' he wiSd to himself, " to kiss CharloUe." Would his father meet him at the station ? Would ha greet him as thou^ nothing had happened, or would he be cold and distant ? How, again, would he *» \n the news of hb son's good fortune ? As the train drew up to the datform, Ernest's eye ran hurriedly over the few peoide who were in the station. His father's well-known form was not among them, but on the other side id the palings which divided the station yard from the platform, he saw the ppny carriage, looking, as he thought, rather shabby, and recognised his father's coachuan. In a few nunutes more he was in the caniage driving towards Battersby. He could not help smiling as he saw the coach- man give a look of surprise at finding bun so much changed in personal appearance. The coachman was the more suiprbed because whoi Ernest had last been at hoaub he had been dressed as a clergyman, and now he was tnt only a layman, but a layman who was got uo regardless of expense. The change was so great that it was not till Ernest actually spoke to him that the coachman knew him. " How are my father and mother ? " he asked hurriedly, as he got into the carriage. "The Master's weU, sir," was the answer, " but the Missis is very sadly." The horse knew that he was going home and pulled hard at the rdns. The weather was cdd and raw— the very ideal of a Novonber day ; in one part of the road the floods were out, and near here they had to pass through a number of horsemen and dogs, for the hounds had met that mondng at a place near Battersby. Ernest saw several people ^vbxm he knew, but they cither, as is most likely, did not recognise him, or did not know of his good luck. Whoa Battersby church tower drew near, and ht saw the Rectory on the top of the hill, its chimneys Just showing above the leafless trees with which it was surrounded, he threw The Way of All Flesh 377 faimsd! back in the carriage and covered his face with Us hands. It came to an end, as even the worst quarters of an hour do, and in 'a few minutes more he was on the steps in front of his father's house. His father, hearing the carriage arrive, came a little way down the steps to meet him. like the coachman he saw at a glance that Ernest was appointed as though money were abundant with him, and that he was kwking robust and full of health and vigour. This was not what he had bargained for. He wanted Ernest to return, but he was to return as any respectaUe, wdl-regulated prodigal ought to return— abject, broken- hearted asking forgiveness from the tenderest and most kng-sttffering father in the whole world. If he should have shoes and stockings and whole clothes at all, it 8lK>uld be only because absolute rags and tatters had been graciously dispensed with, whereas here he was swaggering in a grey ulster and a blue and white neck-tie, and looking better than Theobald had ever seen him in his life. It was unprincipled. Was it for this that he had been generous oiough to offer to provide Ernest with decent dothes in vrfuch to come and visit his mother's death-bed ? Could any advantage be meaner than the one which Ernest had taken ? Well, he would not go a penny beyond the eight or nine pounds v^ch he had promised. It was fortimate he had given a lunit. Why he, Theobald, had never been able to afford such a portmanteau in his life. He was still using an old one which his father had turned over to him when he went up to Cambridge. Besides, he had said dothes, not a portmanteau. Ernest saw what was passing through his father's mind, and fdt that he ou^t to have prepared him in some way for viiat he now saw ; but he h^ sent his tdegram so immediatdy on receiving his fathor's letter, and had followed it so promptly that it would not have been easy to do so even if he had thought of it. He put out his hand and said laughingly, " Oh, it's all paid for— I am afraid you do not Imow that Mr Overton has handed over to me Aunt Alethea's money.'* Theobald flushed scarlet. " But why," he said, and 378 The Way of All Flesh these were the fint words that actually crossed hit lips— " if the money was not his to keep, did he not hand it over to my brother John and me ? " He stammered a good deal and looked sheepish, but he got the words out. ^^ " Because, my dear father," said Ernest still laughing, my aunt left it to him in trust for me, not in trust either for you or for my Uncle John— and it has accumulated till It is now over £70,000. But tell me how is my mother ? '* " No, Ernest," said Theobald excitedly, " the matter cannot rest here, I must know that this is all open and above board." This had the true Theobald ring and instantly biou^t the whole train of ideas which in Ernest's mind were con- nected with his father. The surroundings were the old familiar ones, but the surrounded were changed almost beyond pow«: of recognition. He turned sharply on Theobald in d moment. I will not repeat the words he iKed, for they came out before he had time to consider them, and they might strike some of my readers as dis- respectful; there were not many of them, but they were effectual. Theobald said nothing, but turned almost of an ashen colour ; he never again spoke to his son in such a way as to make it necessary for him to repeat what he had said on this occasion. Ernest quickly re- covered his temper and again asked after his mother. Theobald was glad enough to take this opening now, and replied at once in the tone he would have assumed towar^ one he most particularly desired to coodliaie, that she was getting rapidly worse in spite of all he had been able to do for her, and concluded by saying she had been the comfort and mainstay of his life for more than thirty years, but, that he could not wish it prolonged. The pair then went upstairs to Christina's room, the one fa which Ernest had been bom. His father went before hun and prepared her for her son's approach. The poor woman raised herself in bed as he came towards her, and weeping as she flung her arms around him, cried : " Oh, I knew he would come, I knew, I knew he could come." Ernest broke down and wept as he had not done for years. The Way of All Flesh 379 " C^ my boy, my boy/' she said as soon as she could recover her voice. " Have you never really been near us for all these years ? Ah, you do not know how we have loved you and mourned over vou, papa just as mudi as I have. You know he shows his feelings less, but I can never tell you how very, very deeply he has felt for you. Sometimes at night I have thought I have heard foot- 8tq)S in the gard^, and have got quietly out of bed lest I should wake him, and gone to the window tu look out, but there has been only dark or the greyness of the morning, and I have gone crying back to bed again. Still I think you have be^ near us tiiough you were too proud to let us know — and now at last I have you in my arms once roan, my dearest, dearest boy." How cruel, how infamously unfeeling Ernest thought he had been. " Mother," he said, " forgive me — the fault was mine, I ought not to have been so hard ; I was wrong, very wrong " ; the poor blubbering fellow meant what he said^ and his heart yearned to li^ mother as he had never thon^t that it could yearn again. " But have you never," she omtinued, " come although it was in the dark and we did not know it — oh, let me think that you have not been so cruel as vre have thought you. Tell me that you came if only to comfort me and make me h&ppux." Exiuat was ready. " I had no money to come with, mother, till just latdy." This was an excuse Christina could understand and make allowance for ; " Oh, then you would have come, and I will take the will for the deed— and now that I have you safe again, say that you will never, never leave me — not till — not till— oh, my boy, have they told you I am dying ? " ^e wq>t bitterly, and buried her head in her pillow. 38o The Way of AU Flesh CHAPTER LXXXIII Joey and Giarlotte were in the room. Joey was now ordained, and was curate to Theobald. He and Ernest had never been sympathetic, and Ernest saw at a glance that ttere was no chance of a rapprochemetii between them. He was a little startled at seeing Jo^ dressed as a deny- man, and looking so like what he had looked himself a few Mrs earlier, for there was a good deal of family likenest between the pair; but Joey^s face was cold and was l Uumme d with no spark of Bohemianism; he was a clergyman and was going to do as other clergymen did, neither better nor worse. He greeted Ernest rather d$ *«<< en has, that is to say be began by trying to do so. but the affair tailed off unsatisfactorily. His sister presented her cheek to him to be kissed. How he hated it ; he had been dreadnig it fat the last uiree hours. She, too, was distant imd reprcrachfnl in her manner, as such a superior person was sure to be. She had a grievance against him inasmuch as she was still unmarried. She laid the Uame of this at Ernest's door; it was his misconduct she mahitamed in secret, which had prevented young men from making offen to her, and she ran him up a heavy bill for consequential damages. She and Joey had from the first developed an P^*?,^^.^"°*^ ^^ **>« hounds, and now these two M fawiy identified themselves with the older generation— that IS to say as against Ernest. On this head there was an offensive and defensive alliance between them, but bebr-m themselves there was subdued but internecine Wt: Tins at least was what Ernest gathered, partly from his recollections of the parties concerned, and partly from his observation of their little ways during the first half-hour after his arrival, while they were all together in his mother's bedroont— for as yet of course they did not know that he had money. He could see that they eyed him from time to The Way of AU Flesh 381 time with a sorprise not unmixed with indignation, and knew \ery well what they were thinking. Christina saw the change which had come over him — how much firmer and more vigorous both in mind and body he seemed than when she had last seen him. She saw too how well he was dressed, and, Uke the othors, in spite of the return of all her affection for her first-born, was a little alarmed about Theobald's pocket, which she sui^x)sed would have to be mulcted for all this magnificence. Per- cdving this, Ernest relieved her mind and told her all about his aunt's bequest, and how I had husbanded it, in the {presence of his brother and sister — who, how- ever, pretended not to notice, or at any rate to notice as a matter in sMch they could hardly be escpected to take an interest. His mother kicked a little at first against the monejr's having gone to him as she said " over his papa's head.*' ** Why, my dear," she said in a d«>recating tone, " this is more than ever your papa has had ; but Ernest calmed her by suggesting that if Miss Pontifex had known how large the sum would become she would have left the greater rart of it to Theobald. This compromise was accepted l^ Christina who forthwith, ill as she was, entered with ardour into ttie new position, and taking it as a fresh point of departure, b^gan spending Ernest's money for him. I may say in passing that Christina was ri^t in saying that Theobald had never had so much nK)n€^ as his son was iMiw possessed of. In the first place he had not had a fourteen vears' minority with no outgoings to prevent the accumulation of the money, and in the second he, like myself and almost everyone else, had suffered somewhat in the 1846 times— iiot enough to cripple him or even soioiuly to hurt him, but enough to give him a scare and make hun stick to debentures for the rest of his life. It was the fact of lus son's being the richer man of the two, and of his bdng rich so youi^, which rankled with Theobald evm more than tiie fact of his having money at all. If he had luul to wait till he was sixty or ^ty-five, and be- eooM tooken down from long failure in the meantime, ndiy 382 The Way of AH Flesh then perhaps he might have been allowed to have what- evCT sum should suffice to keep him out of the workhouse and pay his death-bed expenses ; but that he should come in to £70^000 at eight and twenty, and have no wife and only two children— it was intolerable. Christina was too ill and in too great a hurry to spend the money to care much about such details as the foregoing, and she was naturally much more good-natured than ^eobald. " This piece of 'good fortune "—she saw it at a ghmce — qmte wiped out the disgrace of his having been im- pnsoned. There should be no more nonsense about that. The whole thing was a mistake, an unfortunate mistake, true, but the less said about it now the better. Of course Ernest would come back and live at Battersby until he was married, and he would pay his father handsomely for bc«rd and lodging. In fact it would be only right that ln«)bald should make a profit, nor would Ernest himself w^ it to be other than a handsome one ; this was far the best and simplest arrangement ; and he could take his sisttt out more than Theobald or Joey cared to do, and would also doubtless entertain very handsomely at Bat- tersby. " Of course he would buy Joey a living, and make large Resents yearly to his sister— was there anything eise ? Oa I yes— he would become a county magnate now ; a man with nearly £4000 a year should certainly become a rounty magnate. He might even go into Parliament. He had very fair abilities, nothing indeed approaching such gemus as Dr Skinner's, nor even as Theobald's, still Ee was not deficient and if he got into Parliament— so young too— tn«f was nothing to hinder his being Prime Ministo before hedied,andifso, of course, he would become a peer. Oh! wh> did he not set about it all at once, so that she might live to hear people call her son * my lord '—Lord Battmby ■he thought would do very nicely, and if she was weU enough to sit he must certainly have her portrait painted at full len^ for one end of his large dimng-hall. It should be ^hibited at the Royal Academy: 'Portrait of Lord Battersby's moth«,' she said to herself, and her heart fluttered with aU its wonted vivacity. If she could not d>, The Way of All Flesh 383 li^pUy, she had been photographed not so very long ago, and the portrait had been as successful as any photograph could be of a face which depended so entirely upon its «pression as her own. Perhaps the painter couW take tte portrait sufficiently from this. It was better after all that Ernest had given up the Church—how far more wisely God arranges matters for us than ever we can do for our- selves! She saw it all now— it was Joey who would become Archbishop of Canterbury and Ernest would re- main a layman and become Prime Minister" . . . and so on till her daughter told her it was time to take her medicine. I suppose this reverie, which is a mere fragment of what actually ran through Christina's brain, occupied about a minute and a half, but it, or the presence of her son, seemed to revive her spirits wonderfully. lU, dying indeed, and suffering as she was, she brightened up so as to laugh once or twice quite merrily during the course of the after- noon. Next day Dr Martin said she was so much better wat he almost began to have hopes of her recovery again. Theobald, whenever this was touched upon as possible, would shake his head and say : " We can't wish it pro- longed," and then Charlotte caught Ernest unawares and said : " You know, dear Ernest, that these ups and downs of talk are terribly agitating to papa ; he could stand what- ever comes, but it is quite too wearing to 1dm to think half- a-dozen different things backwards and forwards, up and down in the same twenty-four hours, and it would be kinder of you not to do it— I mean not to say anything to him even though Dr Martin does hold out hopes." Chariotte had meant to imply that it was Ernest who was at the bottom of all the inconvenience felt by Theobald, herself, Joey and everyone else, and she had actually got words out which should convey this ; true, she had not dared to stick to them and had turned them off, but she had made them hers at any rate for one brief moment, and this was better tb-m nothing. Ernest noticed through- out his moth«^s iUness, that Charlotte found immediate occasion to make hersdf disagreeable to him whenever eithor doctor or nurse pronounced her mother to be a little 384 The Way of AH Flcah bttttr. When ihe wrote to Crtmpelord to dcrire the prayers oi Uie congregation (she was sure her mother wotud wuh it, and that the Crampsfi« he found himself at the door of the cottage of his fitther's coachman, who had married an old lady's maid of his mother's, to y>rbom Ernest had been always much attached as she also to him, for she had known him ever since he had been five or six years old. Her name was Susan. He sat down in the rocking^hair before her fire, and Susan went on hx>ning at the table in front of the window, and a smell of hot flannd pervaded the kitchen. Susan had been retained too securely by Christina to be Ukely to side with Ernest all in a moment. He knew th» very wdl, and did not call on her for the sake of suppMt, moral or otherwise. He had called because he liked her, and also because he knew that he should gather much In a a c 386 The Way of AU FlesK chat with h«r that 1m ihoold not be able to uiive at ia any other way. " Oh, kaater Erneet," said StMan, " ^vhy did yon not come back when your poor papa and mamma wanted yon ? I'm fare your ma has said to me a hundred timet over if •he hat taid it once that all ihould be esnctly at it had been before." Emett tmOed to himself. It wat no use exidaining to Sutan why he tndled, to he taid nothiitf . " For toe firtt day or two I thought she never would get over it ; she taid it wat a judsement upon her, and went on about thingt tt the had taid and done many yeart ago. before your pa knew her, and I don't know what the didn't tay or wouldn't have taid only I ttopped her ; the teemed out of her mind like, and taid that none of the ndi^bourt would ever tpeak to her again, but the next day MxtBuihby (bet that wat Wu G)wey, yon know) called, and your ma ahrayt wat to fond of her, and it teemed to do her a power o' good, for the next day the went throu§^ all her drettet* and we tettled how the should have them altered ; and then all tlM neighbourt called for milet and mUet round, and jrour ma came in here, and taid she had htea going through the waters of misery, and the Lord had turned them to a wdl. "' Oh yet, Sutan,' taid the,' be ture it it to. Wbomthe Lord loveth he diatteneth, Sutan,' and here the began to cry again. ' At tot him,' she went on, ' he hat made hk bed, and he mutt lie on it ; when he onnet out df piiton hit pa will know what it best to be done, and Matter Encat tm be thankful that he has a pa to good and to long> Miiieiing. " Then when you would not tee them, that wat a cruel blow to your ma. Your pa did not tay anything ; yon know your pa never doet say very much unless he's down- right waxy for the time ; but your ma took on dreadful for a few days, and I never taw the master look so black ; but, bless you, it aU went off in a few days, and I don't know that there's been much difference in either of them since then, not tOl your ma wat took ill." On the night of mt arrival he had bdiaved wcQ at family The Way of All Flesh 387 pviyien, ■• alio OQ th« foOowing morning ; hjbffttharnad aboat David's dyinc injnnctioni to SolomMi in the matter of ShiiMi, bat be did not ndnd it. In the comse of the day, however, hit coraa had been trodden on to many timet that he waa in a mitbdiavim; bnmoor, on thia the second night after his arrival. He knelt next Chariotte and said the renonses perfunctorily, not so perfunctorily that she ahonld know for certain that he was doing it maliciously, but so perfunctorily as to make her unoertain n^iether he mi|^t be malicious or not, and when he had to pray to be made truly honest and conscientious he emphasised the " truly." I do not know whether Charlotte noticed any- thing, but she kndt at some distance from him during the rest of his stay. He assures me that this was 11m only niteful thing ne did during the whole time he was at Battersby. When ne went up to his bedroom, in which, to do them justioe, the3r had gi* ea him a fire, he noticed what indeed lie had noticed a' soon as he waa shown into it on Ids arrival, that the . was an illuminated card framed wad leased over his 1/ed with the words, " Be tl!<% ^%y weanp or be the day long, at last it rfaigeth to ev^ ig." Im wondered to himself how such people could K, ve such a card in a room in which their visitors would have to ^caid the last hours of their evening, but he let it alone. "Tlwre's not enouf^ difference between 'weary' and 'long' to warrant an ' or,' " he said, " but I suppose it is all r^t." I bdieve Christina had bouj^t the card at a baxaar in aid of the restoration of a neighbouring church, and having been bought it had got to be used— besides, the sentiment was so touching and the illumination was really lovdy. Anj^w, no inmy could be more conmlete than leaving it in my hero's bedroom, though assuredly no irony had been intoided. On the third day after Ernest's arrival Christina relapsed t^Stin. For the last two days she had been in no pain and had slept a good deal ; her son's presence still seemed to ciieer her, anid she often said how thankful she was to be surrounded on her death-bed by a family so happy, so God-fearing, so united, but now she began to wander. 388 The Way of AU Flesh ■ad, bdof mora tnilble of the Mprotch of death, •ho noPt aUniMd at the thoughts of the Dej of Jiid|»' She ▼entured more than once or twice to return to the enbject of her tine, and implored Theobald to make quite •nre that they were loniven her. She hinted that the coo- ddered hie profeiiionarreptttatkm wat at stake ; itwoukl nef«r do for his own wife to fail in securing at any rate a pass. This was touching Theobald on a tender spot ; he winced and rejoined with an impatient toss of the head, " But, Christina, they er# forgiven you " ; and then he entrenched himsdf in a firm but dicnified manner bdiind the Lord's prayer. When he roseheleft the room, but called Ernest out to say that he could not wteh it pro- kmged. jorv* was np more use in quieting his mother's anxiety than Theobald had been— indeed he was only Theobeld and water ; at last Ernest, who had not liked interfering, took the matter in hand, and, sitting beside her, kt her pour out her grief to him without let or hindrance. She said she knew she had not given up §U for Christ's sake ; it was this that weighed upon her. She had given up much, and had always tried to give up more year by year, still she knew very well that she had not been so (miritually minded at she ought to have been. If she had, she should probably have been favoured with some direct vidon or communication; wheiess, though God had vouchsafed such direct and visiUe angelic visits to one of bsr dear children, vet she had had none such hersell— oor even had Theobald. She was talking rather to herself than to Ernest as she said these wt»ds, but they made him open his ears. He wanted to know whether the angd had appeared to Joey or to Charlotte. He asked his mother, but she seemed surprised, as though she expected him to know all about it, then, as if she remembered, shi becked herself and said, "Aht ves— you know nothine . all this, and perhaps it is as well. Ernest could not of course press the subject, so he never found out which of his near rdations it was who had had direct communication with an immortal. The The Way of AH Flesh 389 odMn Mvwr Mid anytUnf to him about H, tlioiis)i wfattlMr tldi wtt becMiM they w«n Mhanifd, or bectnse th«y feared ha would not believe the story and that increaee hit own a returned to the subject of her own want of S[^tual-mi lednees, she even harped upon the old nievance of h^* having eaten tdack puddings— true, she had Kiven them up years ago, but for how many years had we not persevered in eating them after she had had fflisi^vings about their having been forbidden I Then there was something that weighed on her mind ^t had taken place b«tore her marriage, and she should Ernest intemq>ted : " My dear mother," he said, " you are ill and your mind is unstrung ; others can now judge better about vou than you can ; I assure you that to n« yon seem to have been the most de/otedly unsdtmh wife and mother that ever Uved. Even if you have not literally given up all for Christ's sake, you have done so practically as far as it was in your power, and more than this is not required of anyone. I believe you will not only be a saint, but a very distinguished one." At these words Christina brightened. " You give mt hope, you give me hope," she cried, and dried her ejres. Sht made him assure her over and over again that this was his solemn conviction ; she did not care about being a distingunhed saint now ; she would be quite content to 390 The Way of All Flesh be amoiig the meanest who actually got into heaven^pio* vided At could make sure of escai^ that awful Hdl. The fear of this evidently was omnipresent with her, and in spite of all Ernest could say he did not qtdte dtqpd it. She was rather ungrateful, I must confess, n>r after more than an hour's consolation from Ernest she prayed for him that he might have every blessing in this world, in- asmuch as she always feared that he was the only one of her children whom die should never meet in heaven ; but she was then wandering, and was hardly aware of his presence; her mind in ifact was reverting to states fai which it had been before her illness. On Sunday Ernest went to church as a matter of course, and noted uat the ever receding tide of Evangelicalism had ebbed many a stage lower, even during the few years of his absence. His father used to walk to the churdi through the Rectory garden, and across a sooaII inter- vening field. He had been used to walk in a tall hat, his Master's gown, and wearing a pair of Geneva bands. Ernest noticed that the bands were worn no longer, and lo I greater marvel still, Theobald did not prea^ in his Master's gown, but in a surplice. The whole character of the service was changed ; you could not say it was high even now, for high-church Theobald could never under any circumstances become, but the old easy^roing sloven- liness, if I may say so, was gone for ever. lAe orchestral accompaniments to the hymns had disappeared while my hero was yet a boy, but there had been no rhanHt^ for some years after the harmonium had bean introduced. While Ernest was at Cambridge, Charlotte and Christina had prevailed on Theobald to allow the canticles to be sung ; and sung they were to old-fashioned double chants by Lord Mornmgton and Dr Dupuis and others. Th^- bald did not like it, but he did it, or allowed it to be done. Then Christina said : " My dear, do you Imow, I really think " (Christina always " really " thought) " that the people like the chanting very much, and uat it will be a means of bringing many to dhurch who have stayed away liitherto. I was talking about it to Mrs Goodhew and to old Miss Wright only yesterday, and they juiU agreed witib The Way of All Flesh 391 me, bat they all said that we ought to chant the ' Gloiy be to the Father ' at the end of each of the psalms instead of sa^ng it." Theobald looked Uack— he felt the waters of chanting rising higher and higher upon him inch by inch ; but he felt also, he knew not why, that he had better yield than fight. So he ordered the " Glory be to the Father " to be chflAted in future, but he did not like it. " Really, mamma dear," said Charlotte, when the battle was won, " you should not call it the ' Glory be to the Father ' you should say ' Gloria.' " ^»"0f course, my dear," said Christina, and she said '• Gloria " for ever after. Then she thought what a won- derfully clever girl Charlotte was, and how she ought to marry no one lower than a bishop. By-and-by when Theobald went away for an unusuamy long holiday one summer, he could find no one but a rather high-church clergyman to take his duty. This gentleman was a man of weight in the neighbourhood, having considerable private means, but without preferment. In the summer he would often help his brother clergymen, and it was through his being willmg to take the duty at Battersby for Aiew Sundays that Theobald had been able to get away for so long. Cto his return, however, he found that the whole psahns were being chanted as wdl as the Glorias. The influential clergyman, Christina, and Charlotte took the bull by the horns as soon as Theobald returned, and laughed it all ofi ; and the clergyman laughed and bounced, and Christina laughed and coaxed, and Charlotte uttered unexcq)tionable sentiments, and the thing was done now, and could not be undone, and it was no use grieving over spilt milk; so henceforth the psalms were to be chanted, but Theobald grisled over it in his heart, and he did not like it. During this same absence what had Birs Goodhew and old Bfiss Wright taken to doing but turning towards the east while repeating the Belief ? Theobald disliked Has even worse than chanting. When he said something about it in a timid way at dinner after sorvice, Charlotte said, " Really, papa dear, you must take to calling it the ' Creed ' 392 The Way of AU Flesh tadiiotthe'Bdief"'; and Tbeobdd wftoced impatimtiy and snorted meek defiance, but the tpiiit of her anati fane and Eliza was strong in Charlotte, and the thing was too smaU to fight about, and he turned it off with a laugh. " As for Qiarlotte," thought Christina, " I believe she kDO^ ivtrything." So Mrs Goodhew and dd Miss Wright continued to turn to the east durins the time the Creed was said, and bv-and>by others fdtowed their example, and ere long the few who had stood out yielded and turned eastward too; and then Theobald made as though he had thought it all very right and proper from the first, but like it he did not. By-and-by Charlotte tried to make him say "AUduia" instead of "Hallelujah," but this was gomg too far, and Theobald turned, and she got frightened and ran away. And they changed the double chants for sinde ones, and altered them psahn by psahn, and in the midme of psahns, just where a cursory reader would see no reason why they ^ould do so, they changed from major to minor and from minor back to major ; and then they got " Hymns ^dent and Modem," and, as I have said, they robbed him of his beloved bands, and they made him preach in a surplice, and he must have celebration of the I^y Com- munion once a month instead of only five times in the year as heretofore, and he struggled m vain against the unseen influence which he fdt to be working in season and out of season against all that he had been accustomed to consider most dntinctive of his party. Where it was, or what it was, he knew not, nor exactly what it wouki do next, but he knew exceecUngly well that go where he wotdd it was undermining him ; that it was too persistent for hhn ; that Christina and Charlotte Uked it a great deal better than he did, and that it could end in nothing but Rome. Easter decorations indeed ! Christmas decora- tions— in reason->were proper enough, but Easter decora- tions! well, it might last his time. TWs was the course things had taken in the Church of Eni^d during the last forty years. The set has hten steadilv in erty after a man is dead. The question of Christianity is virtually settled, or if not settled that to no lack of those en|;aged in settling it. The question of the day now is marriage and the family system. " That," said I drily, " is a hornet's nest indeed." " Yes," said he no less drily, " but hornet's nests are exactly what I happen to like. Before, however, I begin to stir up this particular one I propose to travel for a few years, with the especial object of finding out what nations now existing are the best, comeliest and most lovable, and also what nations have been so in times past. I want to find out how these people live, and have oveAt and what their custcxns are. " I have very vague notions upon the subject as yet, bat the general impression I have formed is that, patting oondves on one side, the most vigorous and amiable ring of 1867 he returned, his luggage stained with the variation of each hotd advertisement 'twist here and Japan. He kmked very brown and strong, awl to well favoured that it almost seemed as if he must have caught some good loola frran the people among whom he had been living. Hecamebacktomsoldrocnnsinthe Temple, and settfod down as easily as if he had never been away a day. One of the first things we did was to go and see the duldren; we took the train to Gravesend, and walked thence for a few miles along the riverside til . we came to the solitary house where the good people lived with whom Ernest had placed them. It was a lovdy April morning, but with a fresh air btomng from off the sea ; the tide was The Way of All Flesh 399 higb, and the riv«r was alive with shipping condDg im with wind and tide. Sea-gulls wheeled around us over- head, sea-weed dung everywhere to the banks which the advancing tide had not yet covered, everything was of the sea sea-ey, and the fine bracing air which blew over the water made me feel more hungry than I had done for many a day ; I did not see how children could live in a better phytical atmosphere than this, and applauded the selection which Ernest had made on behalf of nis youngsters. While we were still a quarter of a mile off we heard shouts and children's laughter, and could see a lot of boys and girls romping together and running after one another. We could not distinguish our own two, but when we got near they were soon made out, for the other children were Uue-eyed, flaxen-pated little folks, whereas ours were dark and sta-aight-haired. We had written to say that we were coming, but had desired that nothing should be said to the (&ldrai, so these paid no more attention to us than they would have done to any other stranger, who happened to visit a spot so unfrequented except by sea-faring folk, which we plainly were not. The interest, however, in us was much quickened when it was discovered that we had got our pockets full of oranges and sweeties, to an extent greater than it had entered kito their smaU ima^nations to con- ceive as possible. At first we had greatdSculty in making them ocBie near us. They were Uke a lot of wild young solts, very inquisitive, but very coy and not to be cajded easfly. The diildren were nine ifa all— five boys and two rrls belonging to Mr and Mrs Rollings, and two to EmeaL never saw a finer lot of children than the young Rdlings, the boys were hardy^ robust, fearless little fellows with eyes as dear as hawks; the dder girl was exquisitdy Getty, but the younger one was a mere baby. If dt as I G»ked at them, that if I had had children of my own I could have wished no better home for them, nor better companions. Geoigie and Alice, Ernest's two children, were evidently quite as one family with the others, and called Mr and Hrs Rollings unde and aunt. They had been so young 400 The Way of AU Flesh «lM tkcv fp«t int bcooffiit to tbt booM tbat ^ bid Sora SStiie^miay. They kn«w iwtUat ibtmt Ifr Md Ito l^Sbdng pidd 10 much a wee^^ SiirSSl tSeSVn what tl»y wanted to be. TJjy bjd SSToMldea; one and all, Georde •««? ^^^ SStiSTS) be bargemen. Young da& could h«dly bav. a more evident hankering after *he watff . " And what do you want, AHce ? • ••idErnirt. " Ob." she eaid, " I'm going to marry Jack here, and be li mmm2nj\.ILn'm. vHfik *' * T^ewu the eldeet boy, now nearly twelve, a ftwdy Ht&fdtow^ SS^toagc of wW Mr RolUngimort Uve be« atSa^wI As ^rTlooked at him, to rtralght and wdl Sown iSfwdl done aU round. I wuld see it WM i^ Sd M miich as in mine that ihe could hardly do much **??>«* here. Tack, my boy," faid Emett, "here'a a tecS In ^te of our previous WwdMhmentt; ^.b^^ SSs SvS him befcre. but shimngs never. ^aU« Sw^^ good-naturedly by the ear and lugged bmi ***^1 a good boy. Jack If." said Ernest to Mr RoDlngl. "es/^said Mr' Rollings, " he's a werry goodboy. oriy llMttlcanHgetbimtolearnhisreadiMandwrtting. He duT't like go& to school, that's tiie only <»jnP^* |^ Snat hiS. I don't know what's the »««« ]^^f,"^ SSen?ttd yours. Mr Pontifex, is just as bad. but ^ SSSofNm UlS book learning. thoufM»ey J^^ dSr^ enough. Why, as for Jack here, he's almost M SSdTb^KMn as I am." And he looked fondly and ^??«^. Sr^St^«llmg. "if he wan^ to mar^S^dien he gets older he .^{*«.^«2j^* SaThave as many barges as he hkes. Ij^^hemewtoe. Mr Rollings, say in what way «»»* y ^^„?*,C^^ ABd whatever you can make useful is at your «»P<^. ^.^ I ^iLtfdly say that Ernest made matters easy fwr thi! The Way of All Flesh 401 SSiif^fc: «»•/*}?«>*«<»»» howtw, he insisted on. namely, tbve wu to be no more smtuslinff. and that the the wmrcei of the RoUinra fanuly. Mr Rollings was not ■orry to assent to this, andl beUeve it is n^HSwyy^Sn £lHnl?i.*^**^2 lyP^* **»^« suspected any of the ^?SSl,'T'?^**T °«f«d«™ •«ai~t the revenue iw. w«JI?? "°^? ^ ^^* *^«« fro» where they are," said anest to me in the train as we went home, " to send than to schoob where they will not be one half so haoDv and where th^ iUegitimacv will very Ukdy be a wom^to them ? Geoigie wants to be a bargeman, let him begin as S?*^^ •~5S- ^^ i*^"®' J **• ^y «» w«" b«««» wiS this M ndth anything else ; then if he shows dei^pmenU I can be on the look-out to encourage them and maL thinn «»y for hini; while if he shoT^no desire to go SSS What onejtfth is the good of trying to shove him forward ? " Ernest, I bcheve, went on with a homily upon education genoally, and upon the way in which young people should Mwith their limbs, beginning Ufe in a much lower social podtion Jhan that in which their parents were, and a tot nK»e, which he has since published ; but I was getting ottin years, and the walk and the bracing air had made me Meq)y, so ere we had got past GreenWaie Station on our return journey I had sunk into a refreshing sleep. CHAPTER LXXXV EwiEST being about two and thirty yean old and having had his fluig for the last three or four years, now settled Jown m London, and began to write steadily. Up to this tune he had given abundant promise, but had produced nothing, nor indeed did he come before the public for anothca: three or four years yet. He lived as L have said very quietly, seeing hardly anyone . a o 402 The Way of AH FlcA tot mydl. •»yrting to bml^ or ieven different people, and viewmg the tame gmm oi tobiectt ttom different ttandpointt. ,, E«aw « ?eople had not yet ^rgptten ^ iwMW fSTtoX Reriewt." and Emett had wickedly given attw wncne STaTto-t^ of the estayt whfch •«««*^^JP^ SartlSThad been written by a biahop. ™«W^ S^orSemin support of tie S^'^.!L£«*S^d*thS SnSlredtoth by*&plied '^*^ .^''fSt^^J^^ adnent natioM of the worid m 5™"?"*.??,*^ ^^^r»^te wtth^the wU-atkit, or »«« tl / The Way of AH FIdh 403 IrraUooil Rttioralini," uid tboe wm two or thno IDOIv. They were all written vlgoroutly and fearlessly as thoiurh JTOttjed to wjdn belief in much which no one conld 1 J!5" «**?«nded that so ranch valuable truth had cot so doMlymlxed up with these mistakei. that themiSuUiM ^ better not be meddled with. To lay great stress^ tt^ewac like cavilling at theQueen'i ry^o rSZ.^ thyround that Wilham the Coiqueior r.M illSffi. ^e article mainlined that Aough it woSJ be incon- I!S£ u ^*?5«* }^ y^"^ *»' "^ P«y« book Md •niciea, it would not be mconvenient to change fai a quiet way the meanings which we put upon those worda. This. It was argued, was what was actuaUy done in the case^ ISl' ™.^,*>^*l»«l»Ws mode of growth and adapta- jwittt method of ejecting change. It was suggested that the Church should adrot it^ •««wwa In another essay it was boldly denied that the Chureh 3IhS*?SJT?' ^* ^»M P«wrf incontestebly that its gtenate foundation was and ought to be faith, there Wng indeed no otiier ultimate foundation than this for any ol man's beli^. If so. the writer dafaned that tiie «rohcoigd not be upset by reason. It was founded. Bke everytiiiM; else, on initial assumptions, that is to sav by t^ &ith of those who in their Kves ap^^ mor^ graceful, more lovable, better bred, in factfand b^ able to overcome difficulties. Any sect which showed its mpmonty m these respects might carry all before it, but none otiier would make much headway for tong together. 2?^?.!2L5" ^PJ^ •» ** ^ fostSd^Juty .* i^ fostered much beauty. It was false in so far S * ^'^l?? ngSness, and it had fostered much unless. It WM ttMcefore not a Uttle true and not a littie fa&e: on the whole one mi^t go farther and fare worse; tiiew»'tit cowse would be to liva with it, and make the best aacjt ns 404 The Way of All Flesh the wowt of it. The writer urged that we become pene- cttton as a matter of course as soon as we begin to fed very strongly upon any subject ; we ought not therefore to do this ; we ought not to feel very strongly even upon that mstitution which was dearer to the writer than any other— the Giurch of England. We should be churchmen, but somewhat lukewarm churchmen, inasmuch^^ those who care very much about either religion or irrdigion are seldom observed to be very well bred or agreeable people. The Church hcrsdf should approach as nearly to that of Laodicea as was compatible with her continuing to be a Church at all, and each individual member should only be hot in striving to be as lukewarm as possible. The book rang with the courage alike of convicticm and of an entire ab^nce of conviction ; it appeared to be the work of men who had a rule-of-thumb way of steering between iconodasm on the one hand and credulity on me other ; who cut Gordian knots as a matter of course when it suited their convenience; who shrank from no condusion in theory, nor from any want of logic in practice so long as they were illogical of malice prepense, and for what they hdd to be suffident reason. The condusions were con- servative, quietistic, comforting. The arguments ly which they were reached were taken from the most ad- vanced writers of the day. All that these people con- tended for was granted them, but the fruits of victory were for the most part handed ova: to those already in possession. Perhaps the passage which attracted most attention m the book was one from the essay on the various marriage systems of the world. It ran :— . . ^ .^ "If people require us to construct," exdamied the writer, ^' we set good breeding as the comer-stone of our edifice. We would have it ever present consdoudy or unconsdoudy in the minds of all as the central faia in yAdctk they diould live and move and have their being, MM the touchstone of all tUngs whereby they may be known as good or evil according as fhey make for good bree(fing ''^ataman should have been btedwdl and breed others The Way of AH Flesh 405 jrdl ; that his figure, head, hands, feet, voice, maimer and clothes should carry conviction upon this point. 80 that no one can look at him without seeing that he has w^^i? JP^ '*?^^/°fl » ^^ely to ti»row good stock wmself, this is the destderandum. And the same with a woman. Th# ;,rpatest number of these weU-bred men and women, *na the grer+est happiness of these weU-bred men and w. men, this if. iie highest good; towards this au govemni nt all 8<>ci : conventions, all art, literature and sarace should directly or indirecUy tend. Holy men and noly women are those who keep this uncon- saoudy m view at aU times whether of work or pastime." If Ernest had published this work in his own name I diould thmk it would have faUen still-born from the press, t>ut the form he had chosen was calculated at that time to aroi^ curiosity, and as I have said he had wickedly dropped a few hints which the reviewers did not think anyone would have been impudent enough to do if he were not a bishop, or at any rate some one in authority. A weU-known judge was spoken of as being another of the wnters, and the idea spread ere long that six or seven of the leading bishops and judges had laid their heads together to produce a volume, which should at once outbid " E^ys and Reviews " and counteract the influence of that tbia still famous work. Reviewers are men of like passions with ourselves, and with thm as with everyone else omne ignotum pro mamtfico. The book was really an able one and abounded with humour, just satire, and cood sense. It struck a new note and the speculation which for some time was rife concCTnmg its authorship made many turn to it who would never have looked at it otherwise. One of the most gushing weeklies had a fit over it, and declared it to be the finest thing that had been done since the Provmcial Letters" of Pascal. Once a month or so mat weekly always found some picture which was the finest that had beer, done since the old masters, or soma »tire that was the finest that had appeared since Swift or some something which was incomparably the finest that had appeared since something else. If £raest 4o6 The Way of AH Flesh had pot hi» name to the book, and the writer had known that it was by a nobody, he wotdd doabtlese have written in a very different strain. Reviewers like to thiidc tiiat for aught they know they are patting a Duke or even a Prince of the blood upon the back, and lay it on tibick till they find they have been only praising Brown- Jones or Robinson. Then they are disappointed, and as a general rule will pay Brown, Jones or Robinson out. Ernest was not so much up to the ropes of the literary world as I was, and I am afraid his head was a little turned when he woke up one morning to find himsdf famous. He was Christina's son, and perhaps would not have been able to do what he had done if he was not capa- Ue of occasional undue dation. Ere long, however, he found out all about it, and settled quieUy down to write a series of books, in which he innsted on saying things whidi no one else would say even if they could, or could even if they would. He has got himself a bad literary character. I said to him laughingly one day that he was like the man in the last coituxy of whom it was said that nothing but such d character could keep down such parts. He laughed pnd said he would rather be like that than like a modem writtf or two whom he could name, whose parts were so poor that they could be kept up by nothing but by such a character. I ronemba: soon after one of these books was published I happeiMKi to meet Mrs Jupp to whom, by the way, Ernest made a small weekly allowance. It was at Ernest's chambers, and for some reason we were left alone for a few mh&utes. I said to her : "Mr Pontifex has writtoi another book, Mrs Jupp." " Lor* now," said she, " has he really ? Dear gentle> man ! Is it about love ? " And the old sinner threw up a wicked sheep's eye glance at me from under ho- aged ^eiids. I forget what there was in my reply which provoked it — proM^y nothing-xbut she went rattUng on at fuH iq)eed to the effect that Bell had given bet a ticket for the opera, " So, of course," she said, " I went I didn't understand one word of it, for it was all French, bat I saw their legk The Way of All Flesh 407 Oh dear, oh dtu\ I'm afraid I shan't U here much longer, and when dear Ifr Pontifex sees me in my cofi&n hell iay, ' Poor old Jupp, she'll never talk broad any more ' ; but bless you I'm not so old as all that, and I'm taking lessons in dancing." At this moment Ernest came in and the conversation was changed. Mrs Jupp asked if he was still going on writing more books now that this one was done. " Of course I am," he answered, " I'm always writing books ; hwe is the manuscript of my next ; " and he showed her a htap of paper. " Well now," she exclaimed, " dear, dear me, and is that manuscript ? I've often heard talk about manuscripts, but I never thought I should live to :iee some myself. Well ! well I So that is really manuscript ? " There were a few geraniums in the window and they did not look well. Ernest asked Mrs Jupp if she under- stood flowers. " I understand the language of flowers," she said, with one of her most bewitching leers, and on this we soit her ofi till she should choose to honour us with another visit, which she knows she is privileged from time to time to do, for Ernest likes her. CHAPTER LXXXVI And now I must bring my story to a close. The preceding chapta: was written soon after the events it records— that is to say in the spring of 1867. By that time my story had been written up to this point ; Imt it has been altered here and there from time to time occa- sionally. It is now the autumn of 1882, and if I am to say nrare I should do so quickly, for I am dghty years old and thouf^ well in health cannot omceal from myself that I am no longer young. Ernest himself is forty-seven, thoo^ he lurdly looks it. He is richer than ever, for he has never married and his London and North- Western shares have nearly doubled 4o8 The Way of All Flesh themsdves. Through sheer inability to vptad his income he has been obliged to hoard in self-defence. He ^till lives in the Temple in the same rooms I took for him when he gave up his shop, for no one has been aUe to induce him to take a house. His house, he says, is where- ever there is a good hotel. When he is in town he likes to work and to be quiet. When out of town he feels that he has left little behind him that can go wrong, and he would not like to be tied to a single locality. "I know no ex- ception," he says, " to the rule that it is che^>er to buy nmk than to keep a cow." As I have mentioned Mrs Jupp, I may as well say here the little that remains to be said about her. She is a voy old woman now, but no one nuw living, as she says triumphantly, can say how old, for the woman in the Old Kent Road b dead, and presumably has carried her secret to the grave. Old, however, though die is, she lives in the same house, and finds it hard work to make the two ends meet, but I do not kaow that she minds this very much, and it has prevented her from getting more to drink than would be good for her. It is no use trying to do an}rthing for her beyond paying her allowance weekly, and absolutely refusing to let her anticipate it. She pawns her flat iron every Saturday for 4d., and takes it out every Monday morning for 4^d. when die gets her allowance, and has done th^ for the last ten years as r^;ularly as the week comes round. As long as she does not let the flat iron actually go we know that she can still worry out her financial juroUems in her own hugger- mugger way and had better be left to do so. If the flat iron were to go beyond redemption, we diould know that it was time to interfere. I do not know why, but there is something about her which always reminds me of a woman who was as unlike her as one person can be to another — I mean Ernest's mother. The last time I had a long gossip with her was about two years ago when she came to me instead of to Ernest. She said she had seen a cab drive up just as she was going to enter the staircase, and had seen Mr Pontifex's pa put his Beelzebub old head out of the window, so she had come The Way of AU Flesh 409 on to me, for she hadn't greased her sides for no curtsey, not for the likes of him. She professed to be very much down on her luck. Her lodgers did use her so dreadful, going away without paying and leaving not so much as a stick behind, but to-day she was as pleased as a penny carrot. She had had such a lovely dinner— a cushion of ham and green peas. She had had a good cry over it, but then she was so silly, she was. " And there's that BeU," she continued, though I could not detect any appearance of connection, " it's enough to gjye anyone the hump to see him now that he's taken to chapd-going, and his mother's prepared to meet Jesus ™ «^ that to me, and now she ain't a-going to die, and dnnks half a bottle of champagne a day, and then Grigg, him as preaches, you know, asked Bell if I really was too gay, not but what when I was young I'd snap my fingere at any • fly by night ' in Holbom, and if I was togged out and had my teeth I'd do it now. I lost my poor dear Watkins, but of course that couldn't be helped, and then I lost my dear Rose. Silly faggot to go and ride on a cart and catch the bronchitics. I never thought when I kissed my dear Rose in PuHen's Passage and she gave me the chop, that I should never see her again, and her gentleman friend was fond of her too, though he was a married man. I daresay she's gone to bits by now. If she could rise and see me with my bad finger, she would cry, and I should say, ' Never mind, ducky, I'm all right.' CMiI dear, it's coming on to rain. I do hate a wet Saturday night— poor women with their nice white stockings and their living to get," etc., etc. And yet age does not wither this godless old sinner, as people would say it ought to do. Whatever life she has led, it has agreed with her very sufficiently. At times she gives us to understand that she is still much solicited ; at others she takes quite a different tone. She has not allowed even Joe King so much as to put his lips to hers this ten years. She would rather have a mutton chop any day. " But ah ! you should have seen me when I was sweet seventeen. I was the very moral of my poor dear mother, and she was a pretty woman, though I say / 4IO The Way of All Flesh It that dioiddn't. She had such a splendid month of teedu It wa» a dn to bury her in her teeth." I only knew ol one thing at which she profeasea to ba shocked. It is that her son Tom and his wife Tcpey are teachmg the baby to swear. "Ohl it's too dreadfd awful," she exclaimed, " I don't know the meaning of the words, but I tell him he's a drunken sot" I bdwve the old woman in reality rather likes it. " But sorely, Mrs Jupp," said I, " Tom's wife osed not to be Topay. You used to speak of her as Pheeb." " Ah I yes," she answered, " but Pheeb behaved bad, and it's Topsy now." Ernest's daughter Alice married the boy who had been iier playmate more than a year ago. Ernest gave them all they said they wanted and a good deal more. They have already presented him with a grandson, and I doubt not, will do so with many more. Georgie though only twenty-one is owner of a fine steamer whidi his father hM bou^t for him. He began when about thirteen going with old Rollings and Tack in the barge from Rochestor to the iroper Thames with bricks ; then his father bought him and Tack barges of their own, and then he bou^t them both ships, and then steamers. I do not exactly know bow people make money by having a steamer, bat he does whatever is usual, and from all I can gather makes it pay extremely weQ. He is a good deal luce his father in the face, but without a spark— so far as I have been able to observe— of any literary ability ; he has a hir sense of humour and abundance of onnmon sense, but his instinct is clearly a practical one. I am not sure diat he does not put me in mind almost more of what Theobald would have been if he had been a sailor, than of Ernest Ernest used to go down to Battersby and stay with his father fw a few days twice a year until Theobald's death, and the pair continued on excellent terms, in qkte of ¥duit the neighbouring clergy call " the atrocious books ^iHndi Mr Ernest Pontifex " has written. Fcrhapa the harmcmy, or rather absence of discord which subsisted between the pair was du to the fact that Theobald had looked into the inside of otoe of hit aoii'a WMJa, The Way of AU Flesh 41 1 aad Ernest^ of couno, never alluded to them in hit fitther't Erttoice. The pair, as I have said, got on exceDcnUy, ut It was doabtlesB as weU that Ernest's visits were short Md not too frequent Once Theobald wanted Ernest to bnng his children, but Ernest knew they would not like it, so this was not done. Sometimes Theobald came up to town on small business matters and paid a visit to Ernest's chambers; he generally brougW with him a couple of lettuces, or a cabbage, or hau-a-dozen turnips done up in a piece of brown paper, and told Emcst that he knew fresh vegetables were rather hard to get in London, and he had brought him some. Ernest had often explained to him that the vegetables were of no use to him, and that he had rather he would not bnng them ; but Theobald persisted, I believe through uieer- love of domg something which his son did not Uke, but which was too small to take notice of. He lived unul about twelve months ago, when he was found dead in his bed on the morning after having written the following letter to his son : — " Deak Ernest,— I've nothing particular to write about, but your letter has been lying for some days in the Umbo of unanswered letters, to wit my pocket, and it's time it was answered. " I keep wonderfully well and am able to walk my five or SIX miles with comfort, but at my age there's no knovring how long it wm last, and time flies quickly. I have been busy potting plants all the r voniing, but this aftenioon is wet. "What is this horrid Government going to do with Ireland ? I don't exactly wish they'd blow up Bir Glad- stone, but if a mad bull would chivy him there, and he would never come back any more, I should not be sorry. Lord Hartington is not exactly the man I should like to set in his place, but he would be immeasurably better **»*« C^adstone. " I miss your sister Charlotte more than I can eaqness. She kept my household accounts, and I could pour out to her all my little worries, and now that Joey h married 412 The Way o(^ All Flesh too, I don't know what I should do if one or other of tlMin did not come sometimes and take care of me. Ky only comfcnrt is that Charlotte will make her husband happy, and that he is as ne-xly worthy of her as a husband can well be.— Belieye. me, Your affectionate father, " Theobald Pontifbx. ' I may say in passing that though Theobald q>^iks of Chariotte's marriage as though it were recent, it had reall;^ taken place some six years previously, she being then about thirty-dght years old, and her husband about seven years younger. There was no doubt that Theobald passed peacefully away during his sleep. Can a man who died thus be said to have died at all ? He has presented the phenomena of death to other people, but in re^Mxt of hinuelf he has not only not died, but has not even thought that he was going to die. This is not more than half dying, but then neither was his life more than half living. He presented so many of the phenomena of living that I suppose on the whole it would be less trouble to think of hun as h(».ving been alive than as never having been bom at all, hvi this is only possible because association does not stfck to the strict letter of its bond. This, however, was not the general verdict concerning him, and the gaieral verdict is often the truest. Ernest was overwhelmed with expresdons of conddence and respect for his father's memory. " He never," said Dr Martin, the old doctor who brought Ernest into the world, " spoke an ill word against anyone. He was not only liked, he was beloved by all who nad anything to do widi him." " A more perfectly just and righteously dealing man," said the family solicitor, " I have never had anything to do with — ^nor one more punctual in the discharge of every business obligation." " We shall miss him sadly," the bishop wrote to Joey in the very warmest terms. The poor were momstemation. " The wdl's never missed," said one old wcnnan, " till it's dry," and she only said what ev^yone else felt. &nest The Way of AH Flesh 413 knew that the general regret was nnaffected as for a loii which could not be easily repaired. He fdt that there were only three people in the world who joined insincerdy in the tribute of applause, and these were the very three who could least t^how their want of sympathy. I mean £oey, Charlotte, and himself. He felt bitter against inuelf for being of a mind with either Joey or Char- lotte upon any subject, and thankful that he must conceal his being so as far as possible, not because of anjrthing his father had done to him — these griev- ances <^ere too old to be remembered now — bat because he would never allow him to fed to^rards him as he was always tryins to fed. As long as communica- tion was confined to the merest commonplace all went well, but if these were departed from ever such a little he invariably fdt that his father's instincts showed them- sdves in immediate opposition to his own. When he was attacked his father laid whatever stress was possible on everything which his opponents said. If he met with any check his father was dearly pleased. What the old doctor had said about Theobald's speakinc ill of no man was perfectly true as regards others thtmhimself , bat he knew very wdl that no one had injured his reputation in a Siiet way, so far as he dared to do, more than his own ther. This is a very common case and a very natural one. It often happens that if the son is right, ue fothcr is wrong, and the father is not going to have this if he can hdpit. It was ery hard, however, to say what was the true root of the mischief in the present case. It was not &nest's having been imprisoned. Theobald forgot all about that much sooner than nine fathers out of ten would have done. Partly, no doubt, it was due to in- ccanpatibility of temperament, but I believe the main ground of complaint lay in the fact that he had been so independent and so rich while still very young, and that thus the old gentleman had been robbed of his power to tease and scratch in the way which he fdt he was entitled to do. The love of teasing in a small way when he fdt safe in doing so had remained part of his nature from the 414 The Way of All Fle^ dayi wImb |m told his norM that he would keep hor on porpoM to torment her. I tappoee It it fo with all of nt. At any rate I am ture that most fathers, especially if they are denvmen, are Uke Theobald. He did not in reality, I am convinced, like Joey or Chartotte one whit better than he liked Ernest. He did not like anyone or anything, or if he liked anyone at all it was his bntler, who looked after hhn when he was not wdl, and took ffreat care of him and believed him to be the best and dolest maii in the whole woiid. Whether this faithful and attached servant continued to thfayc this after Theobakl's will was opoud and it was found what kind of legacy had been left him I know not. Of Ids children, the baby idx> had died at a day old was the only one whom he hdd to have treated him quite filially. As for Christina lie hardly ever pretended to miss her and never mentioned her name ; but this was taken as a proof that he fdt her loss too keenly to be able ever to spMk of lier. It mav have been so, but I do not think it. Theobald's effects were sold by auction, and among them the Harmony of the Old and New Testaments whidi he had ocmipiiod dming many years with such exquisite neatness and a fauae coQection of MS. srrmnns bring aU in iaet that he had ever written. These and the Harmony fetched ninepence a barrow load. I was surprised to hear that Toey had not given the three or four shillings wbkh woud have bought the whole lot, but EmestteUs me that Joey was far fiercer in his dislike of his fa^er than ever he had been himsdf , and yi^aitatd to get rid of everything that reminded him of him. It has aheady appeared that both Toqr and Charlotte ais married. Joey has a family, but be and Ernest vety nrefy have any intercourse. Of course, Ernest toMC Qothmg under hk Other's wiU ; th» had long been under- stood, so that ibt other two are both wdl provided iot* Chariotte is as clever as ever, and sometimes asks Emert to ccmie and stay with her and her husband near Dover, I siq>poae because she knows that the invitstkm wfll ftot be agreeable to hhn. There is a 4b kmU m bm tone in all her letters ; it is rather hard to ky oat's The Way of All Fleih 415 ■pon it bat Emett sercr gets a letter from ber wHhout leeUng that he is being written to by one who hu had direct coammiication with an angel. " What an awful creature," he once said to me, " that angd must have bwcn If it had anything to do with maUnc Charlotte what the it." " Could yon like," the wrote to him not long ago, " the thoughts of a little sea change here ? The top of the clifEs will soon be bright with heather : the gone must be out ahreadv, and the heather I should think begun, to judge by the state of the hill at Ewell, and heather or no heather the cUfis are always beautiful, and if you come yoax room shall be co^ so that you may have a resting comer to yourself. Nmeteen and sixpoice is the price of a return ticket which covers a month. Wonkl you decide just as you would yourself Hke, only if you come we would hope to trv and zoake it bright for you ; but you must not fed it a burden on your mind if you feel dis- inclined to come in this direction." " When I have a bad nightmare," said Bmest to me, laughing as he showed me this letter, " I dream that I have got to stay with Charlotte." Her letters are supposed to be unusually wdl written, and I believe it is said among the family that Charlotte has fsr more real literary power than Ernest has. Some- times we think that she is writing at him as much as to say, " There now— don't you think you are the only one of us who can write ; read this ! And if you want a tcUkag fait of descriptive writing for your next book, you can make what use of it vou hke." I daresay she writes very wdl, but she has fallen under the dominicm of ihb woras " hope," " think," " fed," " try," " brij^t," and " Httle," «kI can hardly write a page witiiout introducing all these words and some of them more than once. Au this has the effect of making her style monotonous. Ernest is as fond of music as ever, perhs^is more so, and of late years has added musical composition to the other farons in his fire. He finds it still a little difficult, and is in constant trouble through getting into the key of C sharp after beaming in the key of C and being unable to get back again. 41 6 The Way of All Flesh " Getting into the key of C iherp," he Mid, " it Uke in unprotected female travelling on the Metropolitan Ridway, and ftndinc heredf at Sh^herd't Bmh, without quite Imowing ^lAere dw wants to go to. How it the ever to get MM back to Gapham Junction ? And aapham lunctkm won't quite do eithor, for dapham Jnnctkm it Uke the diminished seventh— susceptible of such en- harmonic change, that you can resolve it into all the possible termini of music. Talking of music reminds me c. a little ^Mage that took place between Ernest and Miss Skinner, Dt Skinner's eldest daughter, not so very long ago. Dr Skinner had kmg left Rouffhborough, and had become Dean of a Cathe- dral in one ofour Midland counties— a position which ex- actly suited him. Finding himself once in the neighbour- hood Ernest called, for dd acquaintance sake, and wat hospitably entertained at lunch. lidTty years had whitened the Doctor's bushy eyebrows — 4iit lukir they could not whiten. I believe that but for that wig he would have been made a bLshop. Hit voice and manner were unchanged, and yvhea Ernest remarking upon a plan of Rome which hung in the haU, q)oke huidvertently of the Quirlnal, he reined with all hb wonted pomp : ''^Yes, the Quirinal— or m I myself prefer to call it, die Quirlnal." After this triumph he mhaled a long breath through the comers of his mouth, and flung it back again into the face of HMven, as in his finest form during his head -mastership. At lunch he did indeed once My, " next to impossible to think of anytUng dse," but ne inmediatdy corrected himsdf and substituted the words, " next to impossible to entertain irrelevant ideas," after which he seemed to fed a £ood deal more comfortable. Ernest mw the familiar volumes of Dr Skinner's woria upon the book-shdves in the Deanery dining-room, but he mw no copy of " Rome or the Bible— Whidi?" " And are yon still as fond of music as ever, Mr Pontifex?" said MiM Skimier to Ernest during the course of lunch. " Of some kinds of music, yes, Miss Skinner, but yon know I never did like modem music." t The Way of All Flesh 417 " bn't that imthar dnadful ?— Don't yoo think you nthar"— th* wtt going to have xlded, "oufht to?** bat iho kft it nnsaid, IMing doabtlew that ihe had •uflkiMitly owToyed her meaning. " I would hies modern muiic, if I could ; I have been trying an my Ule to like it, but I mcceed leit and leae the older! crow." " And pray, iHiere do you consider modem music to begin?" ^^th Sebastian Bach." " And don't you like Beethoven ?** " No, I used to think I did, when I was younger, but I know now that I never really liked him." *' Ah 1 how can you say so ? You cannot understand hfan, you never could say this if you understood him. For me a simple chord of Beethoven is enough. This is hamnness." Ernest was amused at her strong family likeness to her father— a likeness which had grown upon her as she had become older, and which extended even to votee and manner of speaking. He remembered how he had heard me describe the game of chess I had played with the doctor In davs gone by, and with his mind's ear seemed to hear Miss Skinner saying, as though it were an epitaph : — " Stay : I may presentiv take A simple chord of Beethoven, Or a small semiquaver Front one of Mendelssohn's Songs without Words." After luncheon when Ernest was left alone for half an hour or so with the Dean he plied him so well with com- pliments that the old gentleman was pleased and flattered beyond his wont. He rose and bowed. "These ex- pressions," he said, voce sud, " are very valuaUe to me.'' I'' They are but a small part. Sir," rejoined Ernest, " of what anyone of your old pupils must feel towards you," and the pair danced as it were a minuet at the end of the i dining-room taUe in front of the old bay window that kwked upon the smooth shaven lawn. On this Ernest - 2S 41 8 The Way of All Flesh departed j but a few days afterwards, the Doctor wrote him a letter and told him that his critics watimknf^ ml dmrvroi, and at the same time Ji^mrAi^icret. Ernest remembered o-icAi^poi, and knew that the other words were something of like nature, so it was all right. A month or two afterwards; Dr Skinner was gather^ to his fatheia. " He was an old fool, Ernest," said I, " and you should not relent towards him." " I could not help it," he replied, "he was so old that it was almost like p aying with a child." Sometimes, like all whose minds are active, Ernest over- works himself, and then occasionally he has fierce and re- proachful encounters with Dr Skinner or Theobald in his sleep— but beyond this neither of these two worthies can now molest him further. To myself he has been a son and more than a son ; at times I am half afraid— as for example when I talk to him about his books— that I may have been to him more like a father than I ought ; if I have, I trust he has forgiven me. His books are the only bone of contention between us. I want him to write Uke other people, and not to offend so many of his readers ; he says he can no more change his manner of writing than the colour of his hair, and that he must write as he does or not at all. With the public generally he is not a favourite. He b admitted to have talent, but it is considered generally to be of a queer impractical kind, and no matter how soious he is, he is always accused of being in jest. His first book was a success for reasons which I have already explained, but none of his others have been more than creditable failures. He is one of those unfortunate men, each one of whose books is sneered at by literary critics as soon as it comes out, but becomes " excellent reading " as soon as it has been followed by a later work which may in its turn be condemned. He never asked a reviewer to dinner in his life. I have told him over and over again that this is madness, and find that this is the only thing I can say to him which makes] him angry with me. " What can it matter to me," he says, " whether people C The Way of AU Flesh 419 md my books or not ? It may matter to tkenh^bat I nave too much money to want more, and if the books have any ttuff m them it wiU work by-and-by. I do not know nor greatly care whether they are good or not. What opimon can any sane man form about his own work ? Sonae people must write stupid books just as there must be junior OM and third class poU men. Why should I com- plain of boM; among the mediocrities ? If a man is not absolutdy below mediocrity let him be thankful—beside the books will have to stand by themselves some day! 10 the sooner they begin the better." ^ I 8F>ke to his publisher about him not long since. A^ J ?*"/**/ , he said. •• is a Aomo unius libri, but it doesn't do to tell him so." I could see the publisher, who ought to know, had lost aU faith in Ernests literary position, and looked upon him as a man whose faUure was aU the more hopeless for the fact of his having once made a coup. " He is in a verv sohtarv position Mr Overton," continued the pubUsher. He has formed no alliances, and has made enemies not oiUy of the rebgious world but of the literary and scientific brotherhood as weU. This will not do nowadays. If a man wishes to get on he must belong to a set, and Mr i'ontifex belongs to no set— not even to a club." I rephed, '• Mr Poutifex is the exact Ukeness of Othello, but with a difference-he hates not wisely but too weU He wx)uld dishke the Uterary and scientific swells if he wore to come to know them and they him ; there is no natural sphdarity between him and them, akd if he w