DISCARD
46653
ff J4-* '?€,^tA^-^
St. 3ut)e^0
ST. JUDE'S
BY IAN MACLAREN \^
i^\^
^Cfc^A]
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
Ralph Connor
PHILADELPHIA
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL TIMES COMPANY
1907
cil
Copyright, 1906, 1907, by John Watson
Copyright, 1907, by The Sunday School Times Company
Entered at Stationers' Hall, London, 1907
Nachliruck verboten, Uebersetzungs Recht vorbehaltbn
1lntro&uction
'X'WELVE years ago, to while away the hour of a
journey from Edinburgh to Glasgow, I bought
The British Weekly and began to read, at first idly,
then with interest, and at last with delight, a story
entitled "A Lad O' Pairts." " Read that," I said,
thrusting the paper into the hands of my Scotch
professor friend in Glasgow. He stood up at the
mantel, but had not gone far in his reading when,
"Jean," he called to his wife in the next room,
"come in here and listen to this ; " and with eager,
almost fervid enthusiam he began again, and read
till, unawares, his voice failed, broke, and I dis-
covered him with shamed face looking at us through
tears. "I know him," he cried, when he had done.
But loyalty forbade that he should tear aside the
veil his friend had hung over his name.
A few minutes later, however, apropos of nothing
in particular, he introduced the name of John Wat-
son, of Sefton Park, and I knew that I had dis-
covered the author of " A Lad O' Pairts. ' ' Through
the following months I learned to watch for The
British Weekly, and, with many, to love his people,
Domsie and Drumsheugh, Marget and Geordie
Howe, Donald Menzies, Lachlan Campbell, Mrs.
V
Introduction
Macfadyen, Dr. Maclure, and the rest. I love
them all still, and ever shall.
Now, with another book by Ian Maclaren in my
hands, comes the startling message that he is no
longer with us. I turn the pages and, reading, I
find myself renewing my emotions of twelve years
ago. Here is the same pawky humor, the same
kindly searching satire, the same shrewd analysis of
the theological, logic-chopping, conscience-ridden,
terrible Scot. Once more, as twelve years ago, I
am conscious of that sudden rush of emotion, as the
drill in the hands of this master of his art, piercing
through the stubborn granite of canny worldliness,
of rigid theological formalism, reaches the living
spring of tenderness. As I turn the pages I dis-
cover new friends among Carmichael's flock, worthy
to stand with those others I discovered twelve years
ago : the old Inquisitor, Simeon Mac Quittrick,
of the deUcious seven ; Colonel Roderick MacBean,
a new type ; the inimitable, majestic Mrs. Grimond ;
the soft-hearted Angus Sutherland ; Murchieson,
with his heart of limestone and lava.
Alas, he is gone from us ! Only a few weeks ago
1 bade him farewell. He is gone from us, but his
children are with us still, and for his sake, as for
their own, we shall ever love them.
Charles W. Gordon.
("Ralph Connor.")
vi
Contents
Prologue : The Wisdom of Love 3
A Local Inquisition 19
A Soldier of the Lord 45
An Irregular Christian 71
Nathanael 97
A Domestic Difference 123
A Ruler in Israel 149
The Power of the Child 175
Her Marriage Day 201
Righteous Overmuch 225
Euodias and Syntyche 249
A Faithful Steward 299
vii
Iprologue : ITbe TOi0^om of Xovc
prologue :
Ube XIGlisOom ot %ovc
It was the custom in the Free Kirk of Dmm-
tochty that the minister should sit in the pulpit
after the service till the church had emptied. As
the people streamed by on either side, none of
them would have spoken to him, nor shown any
sign of recognition, for that would have been
bad manners, but their faces softened into a
kindly expression as they passed, and they con-
veyed as by an atmosphere that they were satis-
fied with the sermon, (li the minister, on his
part, had descended from the pulpit and stood
below in his gown and bands, shaking hands with
all and sundry, and making cheery remarks, the
congregation would have been scandalized, and
would have felt that he had forgotten the dig-
nity of his office. He was expected to keep his
place with gracious solemnity, as a man who
had spoken in the name of the Lord, and not to
3
^^c 5-3
St. Jude's
turn the church into a place of conversation. If
he rose, and, leaning over the side of the pulpit,
asked a mother how it fared with her sick daugh-
ter, or stretched out his hand to bid a young
man welcome after years of absence from the
glen, this rare act was invested with special kind-
liness, and the recipients, together with their
friends, were deeply impressed^ When old Bell
Robb, who brought up the tail of the procession,
used to drag a little in the passage with simple
art, arranging her well-worn shawl, or replacing
the peppermint leaves in her Bible, in order that
she might get a shake of the minister's hand,
no one grudged her his word of good cheer, for
they knew what a faithful soul she was, and
how kind she was to blind Marjorie. And if the
minister had a message for Bell to carry home
to Marjorie, and Bell boasted that she never
went empty-handed, the glen was well content,
for no one in its length and breadth had suilfered
so much as Marjorie, and none was so full of
peace. Donald Menzies would sometimes stand
at the pulpit-foot upon occasion till the minister
descended, but those were days in which his
4
The Wisdom of Love
soul had come out of prison, and he rejoiced
upon his high places. Otherwise they departed
quietly from the house of God. Then the min-
ister went up through the silent church to his
little vestry, and it was his custom to turn at
the door and look down the church to the pulpit,
imagining the people again in their pews, and
blessing in his heart the good men and women
who were now making their way by country
roads to their distant homes.
To-day John Carmichael sits in the pulpit
with his head bent and buried in his hands, for
he has been deeply humbled. When he was ap-
pointed to the Free Kirk he knew that he could
not preach, for that had been faithfully im-
pressed upon him in his city assistantship, but it
was given him during his first six months face
to face with the critics of the glen to learn how
vast was his incapacity. Unto the end of his
ministry he never forgot the hours of travail
as he endeavored to prepare an exposition and a
sermon for the Sabbath service. He read every
commentary on the passage which he possessed,
and every reference in books of dogma; he
5
St. Jude's
hunted literature through for illustrations, and
made adventurous voyages into science for anal-
ogies. There was no field from which he did
not painfully gather except conventional relig-
ious anecdotage, which in even his hours of de-
spair he did not touch. Brick by brick he built
up his house, and then on Sunday it would tum-
ble to pieces in his hands, and present nothing
but a heap of disconnected remarks for the con-
sideration of the people.
This morning he had come to a halt trying to
expound the dispute over meat ofifered to idols
in the First Epistle to the Corinthians, and he
had omitted one head of his sermon and the
whole of the practical application, simply because
he was nervous and his memory had failed. But
he could not conceal from himself that if there
had been any real unity in his thinking, and if
he had been speaking at first hand, he would not
have been so helpless. The people were very
patient, and had made no complaint, but there
was a limit, and it must have been reached. Be-
sides, it was not honorable or tolerable that a
man should undertake the duties of a profession
6
The Wisdom of Love
and not be able to discharge them. It was now
evident that he could not preach, and it did not
seem likely he would ever be able to do so, and
as in the Kirk no man can ever have the most
modest success or the narrowest sphere of labor
unless he can produce some sort of sermon, his
duty seemed plain. He had not chosen the min-
istry of his own accord, but had entered it to
please one whose kindness he could never repay.
His action had been a service of piety, but it
had been a mistake in practice, and one thing
only remained for him. During the week he
would consult the only person affected by his
step and resign his charge. The people troop-
ing by, with nothing but friendly thoughts of
him, could not guess how bitter a cup their min-
ister was drinking, but the sound of their foot-
steps fell upon his heart like drops of fire. There
were other fields open to him, and he might live
to do good work in his day, but his public life
had started with a disastrous failure, and as long
as he lived he would walk humbly. When the
last of the congregation had left, and there was
not a sound except a thrush welcoming spring
7
St. Jude's
with his cheerful note, and caring not that win-
ter had settled down upon a human soul, Car-
michael rose and crept up the forsaken church,
a broken man.
And as he stood in the vestry, his chin sunk
on his chest, and resolved to wait there for a
little lest a straggler should be loitering about
the manse gate, some one knocked at the door.
It was the elder who, of all the session, was
chiefly loved and respected. As soon as Car-
michael saw his face, he knew as by an instinct
why he had come and what he was going to say.
If there was any difficult task in the congre-
gational life requiring both courage and delicacy,
it was always laid on Angus Sutherland, and he
never failed to acquit himself well. Never had
he come on a more unwelcome errand, and Car-
michael felt that he must make the course as
smooth as possible, for, without doubt, the elder
had been sent to make a just complaint. It
required a brave man to come, and Carmichael
must also play the man, so he pulled himself to-
gether, and gave a courteous and, as far as he
could, a cheerful welcome to the good elder.
8
The Wisdom of Love
"It is good weather that we are having, sir,"
began Angus, speaking English with the soft
Gaehc accent, for he was a West Highlander
who had settled in the glen. "It is good to see
the beginning of spring. We will be hoping that
the spirit of God may make spring in our own
hearts, and then we shall also be lifting up our
voices. But I must not be detaining you, when
you will be very tired with your work and be
needing rest. Maybe I should not be troubling
you at all at this time, but I have been sent by
the elders with a message, not because I am bet-
ter than my brethren, but only because it is my
fortune to be a little older."
Carmichael knew then that he was right in
his anticipation, and he asked Angus to say what
was given him frankly, and to make no delay.
And he tried to speak gently and humbly, for
in truth his own conscience was with the elders,
and, as he believed, their embassy.
"You may not know, sir, but I will be telling
you, that after the service is over, and the peo-
ple have gone out from the house of God, the
elders speak together below the big beech-tree,
9
St. Jude*s
and their speech will be about the worship and
the sermon. You are not to think," added Angus
with a gracious smile, "that they will be criti-
cizing what is said, or hardening their heart
against the counsel of the Lord declared by the
mouth of his servant. Oh, no ; we will rather be
storing up the bread of God, that we may eat
thereof during the days of the week, and have
strength for the way."
Carmichael assured Angus that he knew how
fair-minded and kind-hearted the elders were,
both in word and deed. And he braced himself
for what was coming.
"This morning," continued Angus, "the elders
were all there, and when we looked at one an-
other's faces, we were all judging that the same
thing will be in our hearts. It was with us for
weeks, and it was growing, and to-day it came
to speech. We knew that we were not meeting
together as the session, and it is not business I
will be coming with ; we met as the elders of the
flock, and it is as your friend that I am here in
much humility. But it is not easy for this man
to say what has been laid upon him."
lO
The Wisdom of Love
Carmichael was sorry for him, and signed him
to go on.
"You were chosen, I will be reminding you,"
said Angus, with a gracious expression on his
face, "by the good will of all the people, and it
was a very proud day when the clerk of the Pres-
bytery stood in his place and said that the call
would be left with the elders, so that all the peo-
ple might be having the opportunity of signing
it, and I stood up and replied to the reverend
gentleman, , it is not necessary; they have
all signed.' Oh, yes, and so they had, every
man and every woman that was upon the roll.
And the young people, they had written their
names, too, upon the paper of adherence, every
one above sixteen years of age. And the very
children would be wishing, that day, that they
had something to sign, for the hearts of the
people had gone out towards you, and there was
one voice in every mouth, "Blessed is he that
Cometh in the name of the Lord."
Carmichael gave Angus to understand that he
would never forget those things while he lived,
and that he prayed God that he might be a better
iz
St. Jude's
man for the people's confidence in him. But his
heart was beginning to break as he thought of
their bitter disappointment, and the trust which
had failed in his hands.
*'It is six months since you entered upon your
ministry among us, and you will not be angry
with me if I am saying to you that you are very
young to have so heavy a weight upon you, for
there is no burden like the burden of souls. And
the elders will be noticing, and so will all the
people, for they are not without understanding,
in Drumtochty, that you are giving yourself with
all your mind and all your heart unto the work
of the Lord. The people are seeing that what-
soever talents the Lord has been pleased to
give are laid out at usury, and they are judging
you very faithful, both in your study and in
their homes. But," softening his voice till it
was like a whisper at eventide, "you are very
young, and the ministry of the Lord is very ardu-
ous."
Amid all his sufifering Carmichael could not
help admiring the courtesy and consideration
with which Angus presented the petition of the
12
The Wisdom of Love
session, and he asked Angus to declare at once
all that was in his mind.
"So the elders considered that the full time
had come for their saying something to you, and
I was charged by them all to wait upon you in
this place, and to say unto you on behalf of the
elders of the flock, and all the flock which is
under your care" (and now it is impossible to
imagine the tenderness in his voice), "that we
are all thankful unto God that he sent you to
be our minister, and that we are all wondering
at the treasures of truth and grace which you
will be bringing to us every Sabbath, for we are
being fed with the finest of the wheat. Oh,
yes, it is not the chaff of empty words, but the
white bread of God which is given unto the peo-
ple. And the very children will have their por-
tion, and will be saying pleasant words about the
minister as they go along the road."
Carmichael was as one that dreamed, for no
man had ever spoken of his preaching after this
fashion. This strange thing also happened, that
while a minute before the manhood in him had
13
St. Jude's
been strong, it now began to weaken and fail,
and Angus still continued:
"The elders will also be noticing that your
words are heavy-laden with the greatness of the
truth, and that you are sometimes brought to
silence as it has happened unto God's prophets
in the ancient time. We will all be wanting to
hear everything that the Lord has given unto
you, and to lay it past, even to the smallest grain,
in our souls, and so if at any time it appears
unto you as if some part of the message has
not been given, we would count it a great kind-
ness that you should go over the truth again,
and if it would be helping you to meditate for a
space we would all be glad to sing a psalm, for
we have plenty of time, and it is good to be in
the Kirk of Drumtochty during these days."
Carmichael was learning that hour that kind-
ness takes all pride even out of a young man, and
turns him into a little child. As he could find no
words, and indeed was afraid that he had no
voice wherewith to utter them, Angus went on
his way without interruption, and came to the
end in much peace.
14
The Wisdom of Love
"There was just one other thing that the
brethren laid upon me to say, and it was Donald
Menzies who would not let me go till I had
promised, and you will not be considering it a
liberty from the elders. You are never to be
troubled in the pulpit, or be thinking about any-
thing but the word of the Lord, and the souls of
the people, of which you are the shepherd. We
will ask you to remember when you stand in
your place to speak to us in the name of the
Lord, that as the smoke goeth up from the
homes of the people in the morning, so will their
prayers be ascending for their minister, and as
you look down upon us before you begin to
speak, maybe you will say to yourself, next Sab-
bath, they are all loving me. Oh, yes, and it
will be true from the oldest to the youngest, we
will all be loving you very much."
Angus Sutherland was, like all his kind, a very
perfect gentleman, and he left immediately, so
gently that Carmichael did not hear his going.
When the minister passed through the garden
gate half an hour afterwards there was no man
to be seen, but the birds on every branch were
IS
St. Jude's
in full song, and he marked that the hawthorn
had begun to bloom. And that is why John Car-
michael remained in the ministry of Jesus Christ,
most patient and most mindful of masters.
16
H 'was the kindness of Dramtochiy
thai made Carmichaet strong for
his loork in St, Jude^s/'
Ian Madaren,
H Xocal Unqufsitton
His first service in St. Jude's Church was over
and Carmichael had broken upon his modest din-
ner with such appetite as high excitement had
left; for it is a fact in the physiology of a min-
ister that if he preaches coldly he eats vora-
ciously, but if his soul has been at a white heat
his body is lifted above food.. It had been a
great change from the little kirk of Drumtochty,
with its congregation of a hundred country
people, to the crowd which filled every corner
of the floor below and the galleries above in the
city church. While the light would that Sunday
be streaming into the Highland kirk and lighting
up the honest, healthy faces of the hearers, the
gas had been lighted in St. Jude's, for the Glas-
gow atmosphere was gloomy outside, and when
it filtered through painted windows was as dark-
ness inside.
There is no loneliness like that of a solitary
man in a crowd, and Carmichael missed the
19
St. Judc's
company and sympathy of his friends. This
mass of city people, with their eager expression,
white faces and suggestion of wealth, who
turned their eyes upon him when he began to
preach, and seemed to be one huge court of
judgment, shadowed his imagination. They were
partly his new congregation and partly a Glas-
gow audience, but there were only two men in
the whole church he knew, and even those he
had only known for a few months.
When he rose to preach, with the heavy pall
of the city's smoke and the city fog encompass-
ing the church, and the glare of the evil-smelling
gas lighting up its Gothic recesses, his heart
sank and for the moment he lost courage. Was
it for this dreary gloom and packed mass of
strange people that he had left the sunlight of
the glen and the warm atmosphere of true
hearts ? There were reasons why he had judged
it his duty to accept the charge of this West End
Glasgow church, and selfish ambition had cer-
tainly not been one, for Carmichael was a man
rather of foolish impulses than of far-seeing pru-
dence. He had done many things suddenly
20
A Local Inquisition
which he had regretted continually, and for an
instant, as he faced his new environment and
before he gave out his text, he wished that by
some touch of that fairy wand which we are ever
desiring to set our mistakes right or to give us
our impossible desires, he could be spirited away
from, the city which as a countryman he always
hated, back to the glen which he would ever
carry in his heart.
While vain regret is threatening to disable
him the people are singing with a great volume
of melody :
Jerusalem as a city is compactly built together;
Unto that place the tribes go up, the tribes of God
go thither:
and his mood changes. After all, the ocean is
greater than any river, however picturesque and
romantic it be, and no one with a susceptible
soul can be indifferent to the unspoken appeal of
a multitude of human beings. Old and young of
all kinds and conditions, from the captains of
industry whose names were famous throughout
the world to the young men who had come up
from remote villages to push their fortune, to-
2Z
St. Jude's
gather with all kinds of professional men ad-
ministering justice, relieving suffering, teaching
knowledge, were gathered together to hear what
the preacher had to say in the name of God.
His message would be quickly caught by the
keen city intellect and would pass into the most
varied homes and into the widest lives, and there
was an opportunity of spiritual power in this
city pulpit which the green wilderness could not
give.
As he looked upon the sea of faces the depths
of Carmichael's nature were stirred, and when
his lips were opened he had forgotten every-
thing except the drama of humanity in its trag-
edy and in its comedy, and the evangel of Jesus
committed into his hands. He spoke with power
as one touched by the very spirit of his Master,
and in the vestry the rulers of the church re-
ferred to his sermon with a gracious and encour-
aging note. He walked home through the
gloomy street with a high head, and in his own
room, and in a way the public might not see,
he received the congratulation he valued more
than anything else on earth. For Kate was
32
A Local Inquisition
proud that day of her man, and she was not
slow either in praise or blame as occasion re-
quired, being through all circumstances, both
dark and bright, a woman of the ancient High-
land spirit. She was not to be many years by
his side, and their married life was not to be
without its shadows, but through the days they
were together his wife stood loyally at Car-
michael's right hand, and when she was taken he
missed many things in his home and heart, but
most of all her words of cheer, when in her hon-
est judgment, not otherwise, he had carried him-
self right knightly in the lists of life.
His nerves were on edge, and although it
mattered little that he was interrupted at dinner,
for he knew not what he was eating, he was not
anxious to see a visitor. If it were another
elder come to say kind things, he must receive
him courteously, but Carmichael had had enough
of praise that day; and if it were a reporter
desiring an interview he would assure him that
he had nothing to say, and as a consolation hand
him his manuscript to make up a quarter column.
But it was neither a city merchant nor a news-
?3
St. Jude's
paper reporter who was waiting in the study;
indeed, one could not have found in the city a
more arresting and instructive contrast.
In the center of the room, detached from the
bookcase and the writing table, refusing the use
of a chair, and despising the very sight of a
couch, stood isolated and self-contained the
most austere man Carmichael had ever seen, or
was ever to meet in his life. He had met Cal-
vinism in its glory among Celts, but he had only
known sweet-blooded mystics like Donald Men-
zies or Pharisees converted into saints, like
Lachlan Campbell, the two Highland elders of
Drumtochty. It was another story to be face to
face with the inflexible and impenetrable subject
of Lowland Calvinism. Whether Calvinism or
Catholicism be the more congenial creed for
Celtic nature may be a subject of debate, but
when Calvinism takes hold of a Lowland Scot
of humble birth and moderate education and
intense mind there is no system which can pro-
duce so uncompromising and unrelenting a par-
tisan.
Carmichael always carried in mental photo-
24
A Local Inquisition
graph the appearance of Simeon MacQuittrick
as he faced him that day — his tall, gaunt figure,
in which the bones of his body, like those of
his creed, were scarcely concealed, his erect and
uncompromising attitude, his carefully-brushed,
well-worn clothes, his clean-shaven, hard-lined
face, his iron gray hair smoothed down across
his forehead, and, above all, his keen, searching,
merciless gray eyes. Before Simeon spoke Car-
michael knew that he was anti-pathetic, and had
come to censure, and his very presence, as from
the iron dungeon of his creed Simeon looked out
on the young, light-hearted, optimistic minister
of St. Jude's, was like a sudden withering frost
upon the gay and generous blossom of spring,
"My name is Simeon MacQuittrick," began
the visitor, "and I'm a hearer at St. Jude's, al-
though I use that name under protest, consider-
ing that the calling of kirks after saints is a rag
of popery, and judging that the McBriar Me-
morial, after a faithful Covenanter, would have
been more in keeping with the principles of the
pure Kirk of Scotland. But we can discuss that
matter another day, and I am merely protecting
25
St. Jude*s
my rights." As Carmichael only Indicated that
he had received the protest, and was willing to
hear anything else he had to say, Simeon con-
tinued :
"Whether I be one of the true Israel of God
or only a man who is following the chosen peo-
ple like a hanger-on from the land of Egypt is
known to God alone, and belongs to his secret
things ; but I have been a professor of religion,
and a member of the kirk for six-and-forty
years, since the fast day at Ecclefechan when
that faithful servant of God, Dr. Ebenezer
Howison, preached for more than two hours on
the words, 'Many be called, but few are
chosen.' " And Carmichael waited in silence for
the burden of Simeon's message.
"It was my first intention," proceeded Simeon,
as he fixed Carmichael with his severe gaze, "to
deal wi' the sermon to which we have been lis-
tening, and which I will say plainly has not been
savory to the spiritual and understanding souls
in the congregation, although I make no doubt
it has pleasantly tickled the ears of the worldly.
But I Vv^ill pretermit the subject for the present
26
A Local Inquisition
■ — first, because time would fail us to go into it
thoroughly, and second because I am come to
offer a better opportunity." Carmichael indi-
cated without speech that Simeon should go on
to the end.
"Ye will understand, Mr. Carmichael, that the
congregation gathering in your kirk is a mixed
multitude, and the maist part are taken up wi'
worldly gear and carnal pleasures like dinners,
dancing, concerts and games ; they know neither
the difference between sound doctrine and un-
sound, nor between the secret signs of saving
faith and the outward forms of ordinary re-
ligion; as for the sovereignty of the Almighty,
whereby one is elected unto light and another
left unto damnation, whilk is the very heart o'
religion, they know and care nothing.
"Gin the Lord has indeed given ye a true com-
mission and ye have been ordained not by the
layin' on o' hands, whilk I judge to be a matter
of kirk order and not needful for the imparting
of grace, as the Prelatists contend, but by the
inward call of God, it will be your business to
pull down every stronghold of lies, and to
27
St. Jude's
awaken them that be at ease in Zion with the
terrors of the Lord. And ye might begin with
the elders who are rich and increased in goods,
and who think they have need of nothing. But
I have my doubts." And the doubts seemed a
certainty, but whether they were chiefly about
the elders' unspiritual condition or Carmichael's
need of a true call Simeon did not plainly indi-
cate.
"I am very sorry, Mr. MacQuittrick" — and
Carmichael spoke for the first time — "that you
consider the congregation to be in such a dis-
couraging condition, especially after the faithful
ministry of my honored predecessor, but I trust
out of such a large number of people that there
must be a number of sincere and intelligent
Christians." Which was a bait Simeon could
not resist.
"Ye speak according to the Scriptures, Mr.
Carmichael, for in the darkest days when Elijah
testified against the priests of Baal — and he is
sorely needed to-day, for there be many kinds
of Baal — there were seven thousand faithful
people. Yea, there has always been a remnant,
28
A Local Inquisition
and even in those days when the multitude that
call themselves by the name of the Lord are
hankering after organs and hymns and soirees
and Arminian doctrine, there be a few who have
kept their garments unspotted, and who mourn
over the backslidings of Zion."
"Well, I hope, Mr. MacQuittrick, that some
of the remnant can be found in St. Jude's." And
Carmichael began to enter into the spirit of the
situation.
"It doesna' become me to boast, for indeed
there are times when I see myself in the court
of the Gentiles, aye, and maybe in the outer
darkness, but ye will be pleased to know that
there are seven men who meet ae night every
week to protest against false doctrine, and to
search into the experiences o' the soul. Myself
and another belong to the faithful remnant of the
Scots Kirk, whilk the world calls the Camero-
nians ; two have been members wi' the original
secession; ane came from the black darkness
o' the Established Kirk; and two were brought
up in the Free Kirk, and I'll not deny, had a
glimmerin' o' light. When the godly minister
29
St. Jude*s
who has gone to his reward, as we will hope,
but the day alone will declare, lifted up his voice
in the pulpit of St. Jude's against Sunday cars,
opening the girdens on the Lord's Day, singing
paraphrases at public worship, the worldly pro-
posals for union with the Voluntaries, the
preaching of teetotalism, and the blasphemy of
the Higher Critics, we came to this kirk and
foregathered here as in a haven of refuge.
"It came to our mind, Mr. Carmichael" — and
the representative of the remnant concluded his
message — "that it would strengthen your hands
to know that ye have some discernin' professors
in your kirk, with whom ye could search into
the deep things of God which might be beyond
the depths of youth, and who will try the doc-
trine which ye may deliver from Sabbath to
Sabbath. And we will be gathered together on
Thursday night at 272 Water street, by eight
o'clock, to confer with you on the things of the
kingdom."
When Carmichael arrived at the meeting-place
of the remnant he had a sense of a spiritual ad-
venture, and when he looked at the seven gray
30
A Local Inquisition
and austere faces, he imagined himself before
the Inquisition. His host — the brand plucked
from the burning of the Establishment — shook
hands with gravity, and gave him a vacant chair
at the table, where before him and on either side
sat the elect. After a prayer by an original
seceder, in which the history of the Scots
Kirk from the Reformation and her defections
in the present day were treated at considerable
length and with great firmness of touch, and
some very frank petitions were offered for his
own enlightenment, the court was, so to say,
constituted, and he was placed at the bar. If
Carmichael imagined, which indeed he did not,
that this was to be a friendly conference be-
tween a few experienced Christians and their
young minister, he was very soon undeceived,
for the president of the court called upon Sim-
eon's fellow-covenanter to state the first ques-
tion.
"It is one, Mr. Carmichael, which goes to the
root of things, for he that is right here will be
right everywhere ; he that goes astray here will
end in the bottomless pit of false doctrine.
31
St. Jude's
Whether would ye say that Christ died upon the
cross for the salvation of the whole world, and
that therefore a proveesion was made for the
pardon of all men gin they should repent and
believe, or that he died only for the sins of them
whom God hath chosen unto everlasting life,
and who therefore shall verily be saved accord-
ing to the will of God." And there was a si-
lence that might be heard while the seven waited
for the minister's answer.
When Carmichael boldly declared that the di-
vine love embraced the human race which God
had called into being, and that Christ as the In-
carnate Saviour of the world had laid down his
life not for a few but for the race, and that
therefore there was freeness of pardon and
fulness of grace for all men, and when finally
he called God by the name of Father, the in-
quisitors sighed in unison. They looked like men
who had feared the worst, and were not dis-
appointed.
"Arminianism pure and simple," said one of
the favored children of the Free Kirk, "con-
trary to the Scriptures and the standards of the
33
A Local Inquisition
Kirk. Jacob have I loved, Esau have I hated;
a strait gate and a narrow way, and few there
be that find it. And the end of this deceiving
error which pleases the silly heart is Universal-
ism — nae difference between the elect and the
multitude. But there were ither questions, and
our brother Mr. MacCosh will maybe put the
second." Although it was evident hope was
dying out both for Carmichael and for the in-
quisitors.
"Do ye believe, Mr. Carmichael, and will ye
preach that the offer of the gospel should be
made to all men in the congregation, and that
any man who accepts that offer, as he considers,
will see the salvation of God ; or will ye teach
that while the offer is made in general terms to
everybody with words such as, 'Come unto me
all ye that labor,' it is only intended for certain
who are already within the covenant of redemp-
tion, and that they alone will be enabled by
effectual grace to accept it, and that for them
alone there is a place at the marriage feast?
"And I am asking this question because there
are so-called evangelists going up and down the
33
St. Jude's
land offering the invitation of the kingdom unto
all and sundry, and forgetting to tell the people,
if indeed they know it themselves, that it mat-
ters not how freely Christ be offered, and how
anxious they may be to take him, none of them
can lift a little finger in his direction unless by
the power of the Spirit, and the Spirit is only
given to them who have been in the covenant
from all eternity."
Carmichael felt as if he were again making his
vows before ordination, and any sense of the
ludicrous which was a snare unto him and had
tempted him when he came into the room, was
burned out. He was face to face with a con-
scientious and thoroughgoing theology, against
whose inhumanity and ungraciousness both his
reason and his soul revolted.
f"May I in turn put a question to you, sir, and
the other brethren, and if you will answer mine I
will answer yours. Would you consider it hon-
est, I will not say kindly, to invite twelve men
to come to dinner at your house, all the more
if they were poor and starving, and to beseech
them to accept your invitation in the most tender
34
A Local Inquisition
terms, while you only intended to have six
guests, or shall I say three out of the twelve,
and had been careful to make provision for only
three? You would despise such a host, and,
Mr. MacCosh, will you seriously consider God
to be more treacherous and dishonorable than
we frail mortals?^
"Very superfeecial," burst in Simeon; "there
is no question to be answered. Human analo-
gies are deceiving, for nae man can argue from
the ways of man to the ways of God, or else
ye would soon be expectin' that the Almighty
would deal wi' us the same as a father maun
deal wi' his bairns, which is the spring o' that
soul-destroying heresy, the so-called Fatherhood
of God. Na, na" — and MacQuittrick's face
glowed with dogmatic enthusiasm, in which the
thought of his own destiny and that of his fel-
low-humans was lost — "he is the potter and we
are the clay. Gin he makes one vessel for glory
and another for shame — aye, and even gin he
dashes it to pieces, it is within his just richts.
Wha are we to complain or to question? Ane
cot o' twelve saved would be wonderful mercy,
35
St. Jude's
and the eleven would be to the praise of his jus-
tice." And a low hum of assent passed round
the room.
"After what has passed, I'm not judging that
it will serve ony useful purpose to pit the third
question, Mr. MacCosh," said the brand from
the Establishment, "but it might be as well to
complete the investigation. It's a sore trial to
think that the man whom we called to be our
minister, and who is set over the congregation
in spiritual affairs knows so little of the pure
truth, and has fallen into sae mony soul-enticing
errors. Oh ! this evil day ; we have heard wi' our
ain ears in this very room, and this very nicht,
first Arminianism, and then Morisonianism, the
heresy of a universal atonement and of a free
offer. I'll do Mr. Carmichael justice in believin'
that he is no as yet at ony rate a Socinian, but
I'm expecting that he's a Pelagian. Oor last
question will settle the point.
"Is it your judgment, Mr. Carmichael" — and
there was a tone of despair in the voice of the
president — "that a natural man, and by that I
mean a man acting without an experience of
36
A Local Inquisition
effectual and saving grace given only to the
elect, can perform any work whatever which
would be acceptable to God, or whether it be
not true that everything he does is altogether
sinful, and that although he be bound to attempt
good works in the various duties of life they will
all be condemned and be the cause of his greater
damnation?" And when, at the close of this
carefully-worded piece of furious logic, Car-
michael looked round and saw approval on the
seven faces, as if their position had been finally
stated, his patience gave way.
"Have you" — and he leaned forward and
brought his hand down upon the table — "have
you any common reason in your minds ; I do
not mean the pedantic arguments of theology,
but the common sense of human beings ? Have
you any blood in your hearts, the blood of men
who have been sons, and who are fathers, the
feelings of ordinary humanity? Will you say
that a mother's love to her son, lasting through
the sacrifices of Hfe to the tender farewell on
her deathbed is not altogether good? That a
man toiling and striving to build a home for his
37
St. Jude*s
wife and children and to keep them in peace and
plenty, safe from the storms of life, is not ac-
ceptable unto God? That a man giving his life
to save a little child from drowning, or to protect
his country from her enemies, is not beautiful
in the sight of heaven? That even a heretic,
standing by what he believes to be true, and los-
ing all his earthly goods for conscience's sake,
has done a holy thing — tell me that?" And Car-
michael stretched out his hands to them in the
fervor of his youth.
No man answered, and it was not needful, for
the minister's human emotion had beaten upon
their iron creed like spray upon the high sea-
cliffs. But one of them said, "That completes
the list, downright Pelagianism," and he added
gloomily, "I doubt Socianism is not far off."
The court was then dissolved, but before he
left the room like a criminal sent to execution,
a sudden thought struck Carmichael, and in his
turn he asked a question.
"It is quite plain to me, brethren" — for so he
called them in Christian courtesy, although it
was doubtful if they would have so called him
38
A Local Inquisition
— "that you have suspected me of unsoundness
in the faith, and that you have not been alto-
gether unprepared for my answers ; I want to
ask you something, and I am curious to hear
your answer. There are many names attached
to the call given to me by the congregation of
St. Jude's, and I do not know them all as yet,
but I hope soon to have them written in my
heart. The people who signed that call declared
that they were assured by good information of
my piety, prudence and ministerial qualifications,
and they promised me all dutiful respect, encour-
agement, support and obedience in the Lord. I
have those words ever in my memory, for they
are a strength to me as I undertake my high
work. May I ask, are your names, brethren,
upon that call, and if so, why did you sign it?"
As he was speaking, Carmichael noticed that
the composure of the seven was shaken, and
that a look of uneasiness and even of confusion
had come over their faces. He was sure that
they had signed and he also guessed that they
had already repented the deed. It seemed to
him as if there was some secret to be told, and
39
St. Jude's
that they were challenging one another to tell it.
And at last, under the weight of his responsi-
bility as president of the court, MacCosh made
their confession.
"Ye must understand, Mr. Carmichael, that
when your name was put before the congrega-
tion we, who have been called more than others
to discern the spirits, had no sure word given
us either for or against you, and we were in
perplexity of heart. It was not according to
our conscience to sign lightly and in ignorance
as many do, and we might not forbear signing
unless we were prepared to lay our protests
with reasons upon the table of the presbytery.
We gathered together in this room and wres-
tled for light, and it seemed to come to us
through a word of our brother Simeon Mac-
Quittrick, and I will ask him to mention the
sign that we judged that day to be of the Lord,
but it may be it came from elsewhere."
"That very morning," explained Simeon, with
the first shade of diffidence in his manner, "I
was reading in my chamber the Acts of the
Apostles, and when I came to the words 'send
40
A Local Inquisition
men to Joppa,' I was hindered and I could go
no further. The passage was laid upon my soul
and I was convinced that it was the message of
God, but concerning whom and concerning what
I knew not. But it was ever all the hours of
the day, 'send men to Joppa.'
"That very afternoon I met one of the elders
who is liberal in his gifts and full of outward
works, but I judge a mere Gallio, and he asked
me whether I was ready to sign the call. I an-
swered that I was waiting for the sign, and I
told him of the words said to me that day. 'Well,'
he said to me in his worldly fashion, 'if you
will not call a man unless he be at Joppa you
may have to wait some time, MacQuittrick ; but,
by the way, I hear that Mr. Carmichael is stay-
ing near Edinburgh just now, and there is a
Joppa on the coast next to Portobello.'
"He may have been jesting," sadly continued
MacQuittrick, "and he is a man whose ear has
never been opened, but the Almighty chooses
whom he will as his messengers, and spake once
by Balaam's ass, so I mentioned the matter to
the brethren. And when we considered both the
41
St. Jude's
word of Acts and the saying of this Gallio, we
accepted it as a sign. So it came to pass that
we all signed your call. But it pleases God to
allow even the elect to be deceived; behold are
there not false prophets and lying signs? And
it may be ye were not at Joppa." And when Car-
michael declared with joyful emphasis that he
had never been at Joppa in his life, MacCosh
summed up the moral of the call and the con-
ference. "It was a sign, but it was from Satan."
4a
H SolMet of tbe Xort)
H SolMer of tbe Xor^
Every animal has its congenial haunt, into
which it fits by its very color, and the retired
military officer is as much out of place in a stir-
ring commercial city as a grouse would be in
a public park. Those veterans congregate by
an instinct in watering-places, where they estab-
lish clubs into which no tradesman is allowed
to enter and arrange for stores where they can
obtain their goods at economical prices ; they
march up and down the main roads as if they
were on parade, and criticise the mismanage-
ment of the army with strident voices, and form
a society of their own, narrow and prejudiced,
into which no idea ever filters, but honorable
and clean-living, in which no base act would be
tolerated.
Their outlook on life is from a tent-door, and
absolutely different from that of a doctor or a
merchant. What one of the warriors says on
any subject, political or social, they all say, just
45
St. Jude's
as every one is as straight as a rod, has close-
cut gray hair, clean-shaven cheeks, and a stiff,
aggressive mustache. No one is admitted to
their set unless he be in one of the services, and
by preference the army, and no civilian could
endure the atmosphere. There is only one di-
vision in the class, and that is made by religion.
As the church is, in their judgment, a part of
the constitution, like the throne and the House
of Lords and the magistracy, they will not en-
dure a word against Christianity. They were
very particular in their day about church parade,
and took care that any complaint of a chaplain
had full effect. They abominate every one who
criticises the Christian faith, and are not only
ready to call him an infidel, but express at the
same time their idea of his future state. So
many feel that at this point they are entitled
to halt, and they would not be inclined to call
themselves religious. They are very much
shocked, indeed, if they should be supposed to
cross the line, and to usurp the position of chap-
lains of other pious people. One dear old colo-
nel was once reading the service of the Church
46
A Soldier of the Lord
of England in the absence of the chaplain, and
in his ignorance gave the absolution. His adju-
tant whispered to him that he ought not to have
read that passage, whereupon the colonel, with
great presence of mind, told the regiment that
he had made a mistake ; then shouted in his best
drill voice, "As you were." He was much con-
gratulated at the mess on his smart retrieval of
a difficult position, and he is still telling the story
of his skilful escape from an unexpected ambus-
cade.
A certain proportion of the colonels are not
formally, but sincerely and strenuously, relig-
ious, and they afford a unique type of piety.
They have been, as a rule, converted by a ser-
mon or by a book in some particular way which
they can describe, and on some definite date
which they hold in a retentive memory. With
them religion is no decent observance or vague
opinion ; it is a pronounced and unchanging con-
viction, and embraces not only the larger mat-
ters of the law, but also its jots and tittles. With
them it has been right wheel about, and they
have never varied in their steady march in the
47
St. Jude's
new direction. Neither on the camping-ground
nor in the mess have they concealed their faith
or been ashamed of their colors. They have
been good soldiers of their country, and they
are good soldiers of their Lord, bringing into
his service all the unswerving loyalty and un-
questioning obedience, as well as dauntless cour-
age, which they have learned in the other army.
If they are Episcopalians, then they are generally
low-churchmen, and are fierce against the slight-
est concession to ritualism. If they belong to
the Scots Kirk, then they stand fast on the con-
fession of faith, and will have no deahngs with
modern thought. Very often they are Plymouth
Brethren, and then they will refuse to hold inter-
course with another colonel who belongs to
some other and less orthodox meeting in that
remarkable community.
Whatever they be or whoever they are, one
can depend upon the colonels to be thorough-
going and effective members of their church;
and St. Jude's congregation had a legitimate
pride in Lieutenant-Colonel Roderick MacBean,
who had, for family reasons, settled in their city,
48
A Soldier of the Lord
and had been for many years an elder in the
kirk. No one could say that he had been a
brilliant soldier, for he had not risen to the rank
of general, and he had never been on the staff,
but every one knew that he had been a sound
and distinguished officer, who had done hard and
gallant work on the Indian frontier. His friends
always said that MacBean ought to have been
made a Companion of the Bath for the masterly
way in which he brought a raiding Afghan tribe
to their senses. He obtained what is perhaps
better, the Victoria Cross, for dashing in among
the enemy and rescuing a wounded sergeant
from the cruel Afghan knives ; and he carried
for life the mark of this encounter in a cut on
his upper lip, only partially concealed by his
short mustache.
No one called him by his name, and some of
the congregation hardly knew what it was ; both
among the elders and among the people he was
the Colonel, and when a worthy member of the
church who kept a large dry goods store ob-
tained the same rank in the volunteer force, and
some one complimented him by his title, the vol-
49
St. Jude's
unteer entreated that this should never be done
again, for it were to bring him into painful com-
parison with our one and only Colonel. A tall,
gaunt man, with large bones, and hardly an
ounce of superfluous flesh, his face bronzed by
long Indian service, and his hair passing from
iron gray to white, his eye keen and alert, like
one who has long been watching a tricky foe or
drilling men on the parade ground, dressed
quietly but always with severe taste, he was the
most picturesque figure in St. Jude's, as he stood
in the singing of the Psalms at the end of his
pew, or behind the plate at the door, for all the
world like a sentinel on guard, looking straight
before him, and taking no notice of what the
people cast into the treasury, or carrying the
vessels of the Lord in stately procession during
the sacrament, as he had once carried the colors
of his regiment when he was a young subaltern.
He was the one touch of romantic color in a
congregation of practical and enterprising mer-
chants — as it were, a red coat standing out from
the hodden-gray.
His wife and certain traditions of his family
50
A Soldier of the Lord
had prepossessed Carmichael in favor of sol-
diers, and his eye had already detected the Colo-
nel's erect figure in the kirk. It was therefore
with eager courtesy that he went forward to
meet MacBean w-hen, one morning, he came into
the study with the air of one leading a battalion.
"When two men are going to fight a cam-
paign together," explained the Colonel, "and I
hope that you and I, if the Almighty spare us,
will be fellow-soldiers for many years, it's a good
thing that they should agree about the line
they're going to take. Of course you're in com-
mand, and I am only a regimental officer ; but I
always found it useful, when we were starting
out on an expedition, to give the senior officers
an idea of what I was after. From what I have
seen and heard, I rather think you would like
to take your fellow-officers into your confidence.
Eh, what?
"Quite so, sir," went on the Colonel, "just
what I expected from your face. I think I know
a man when I see him. Well, as I take it, the
great thing is to stand together upon the truth,
and I mean the practical truth, for ourselves as
St. Jude's
a nation. If we know what we are in the provi-
dence of God, and what part we have to fulfill
in his purposes, why, then, we know where we
are and what we've got to do ; we know our
marching orders, in fact, and what position we're
expected to take from the enemy. What do
you say to that?"
When Carmichael indicated his agreement,
and invited the Colonel to go into details, Mac-
Bean proceeded with much cheerfulness :
"It is years ago, Mr. Carmichael, since I dis-
covered that the Lord's work can never be prop-
erly carried on in the world, or the human race
won to Christ unless Great Britain — for I don't
like that talk of England as if Scotland were
only a conquered province, which, thank God, it
never was, and never shall be — unless Great
Britain, as I was saying, knows her own history
and her own destiny. Why, as long as I thought
that there was no difference between our people
and the German people, or any other that the
Lord has been pleased to have mercy upon, and
that we were just one of the ordinary Gentiles,
I had no idea of our responsibility; I was like a
52
A Soldier of the Lord
man who was heir to an estate, and had never
claimed it; you follow me, sir?" Carmichael
began to suspect many things, and regarded the
Colonel with hopeful delight.
''It was an Englishman, and a very good fel-
low — Lancelot of the Irregular Horse — who
first showed me the truth when we were both
invalided to the hills after a frontier scrimmage.
I'll never forget the day when, after three hours'
Bible reading, he proved to me as clear as a pike-
staff, and I've never had the slightest doubt
since, that we are the lost ten tribes." Car-
michael -understood everything then, but thei
Colonel mistook the expression on the minister's
ingenuous countenance.
"You do not seem to be quite with me, eh?
what? surely a man of intelligence like you — if
I may be allowed to say so — has never fallen
into that other descent of the ten tribes — the
most dangerous error and childish rubbish that
ever entered into the human mind, and which
has no support whatever from the inspired writ-
ings. I never met one sensible man except Pon-
sonby of the Artillery, who was as sound as oak,
53
St. Jude's
and died like a good soldier, who held that ab-
surdity about the Afghans ; for it is stark raging
nonsense." Then Carmichael remembered that
every sect has its heretical counterpart, and that
the Anglo-Israelites were much annoyed by cer-
tain heretics who, in the perversity of their
minds, if not the corruption of their hearts, held
that the Afghans were the descendants of the
lost ten tribes. And the minister hastened to
assure his anxious visitor that whatever errors
he may have fallen into in the course of an im-
perfect life, he had never been an Afghan-
Israelite.
"Wouldn't have believed it if a man had told
me." And the Colonel was much relieved.
"Have read too much, and got too clear a mind
to be caught in that trap. Afghans, indeed !
Mind you, Mr, Carmichael, and just between
ourselves there is a distinct touch of the Jew
about the rascals' faces, for I have seen plenty
of them both in life and death. But that is all ;
not a trace of the Lord's people in any other
shape or fashion, you may take my word for
that, and I have been watching, and fighting
54
A Soldier of the Lord
them, making bargains with them, and hearing
them tell lies, for more than half a lifetime. Not
that they aren't good fighting men; we must
give the devil his due, and the Pathans can put
up just about as good a skirmish as you would
wish to see, quite fit to be called a battle." And
the Colonel seemed much pleased with some
recollections.
"But the ten tribes, I never heard in my Hfe
such lunacy. No, no ; I was sure you would be
sound in Anglo-Israelism, Mr. Carmichael." And
the minister had not the heart to check the Colo-
nel's enthusiasm, or to explain that he had never
heard of the doctrine of Anglo-Israel except as
an amiable eccentricity, held by old ladies at
watering-places, and Indian civilians with a sug-
gestion of sunstroke. He contented himself with
modestly asking the Colonel to explain the prac-
tical good of this faith.
"Why," said the excited veteran, "it's the
same as a man coming into his heritage ; it takes
us out of the run of nations, and gives us the
first place as the chosen people, to whom belong
the covenants and the promises. Bless my soul,
55
St. Jude's
sir, we were in the ranks before; now we are
commissioned officers, and not rankers, mind
you — mere proselytes taken into Israel from
other nations, but the true Israel itself. It makes
me twice a man to go into Westminster Abbey
and see the Coronation Stone, and to know that
it was the very stone on which Jacob laid his
head when he had his vision and saw the heavens
opened.
"When I saw Her Majesty pass, God bless
her! the first time I came home from India,
after I'd received the truth and said to myself,
'There is the descendant of King David in direct
line,' I tell you, if it was possible, she was twice
my monarch. What is a Hanoverian, what is a
Stuart, to a member of the royal house of Israel?
When a man knows that he is of Israel, and a
descendant of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, he has
a right to lift up his head, for salvation is of the
Jews, to him first, and through him to the
world." And beneath the tan the Colonel's face
burned with pride. Carmichael knew not what
to say, for, although he remembered one delight-
ful colonel of evangelistic tendencies who used
56
A Soldier of the Lord
to visit the Caraegies, this was practically a new
study in religion.
"But that is not really what I came to speak
about, for I knew that you and I would join our
forces over this mighty truth. I have something
new to tell you Mr. Carmichael, and something
which will give you as big a lift as it gave me."
"Of course, the great matter is to know that
we are the ten tribes, but I often said to Lance-
lot that I wished to know to which of the ten
I belonged, Lancelot used always to say, 'That
will be revealed in time ; we cannot bear all the
light at once.' Well, I've hoped and prayed for
that revelation, and I received it yesterday.
Packenham used to be in the Bombay Fusileers,
and saw a lot of service. He wrote an article
on unfulfilled prophecy, and is very strong on
Daniel. Well, Packenham has been working on
this thing for years, and now he has written a
little book called 'The Tribes Identified.' A
copy came from him yesterday morning, and I
was all day working it over, and before evening
I was quite convinced that Packenham had
made a wonderful discovery."
57
St. Jude*s
Carmichael indicated that he was dying to
hear.
"Of course, Mr. Carmichael, it is quite obvious
when you hear it, and I cannot make out how it
has not been found out before. You have just
to read the description of the tribes in the 49th
chapter of Genesis, and you can identify every
tribe. As for this city, why it's the clearest
word I ever read, and yet, until good old Pack-
enham gave me the scent, I never saw it. I
wonder whether you could guess who we are?
Well, just let me ask you a question or two.
Aren't we close to the sea, haven't we got a big
harbor, aren't we rich in ships, doesn't our com-
merce go out to the ends of the world? Eh!
what, have you taken it yet? I believe you
have, but you just want me to read the passage.
Here it is," and the Colonel turned up his pocket
Bible, and gave it out with great triumph :
"Zebulun shall dwell at the haven of the sea ;
and he shall be for a haven of ships, and his
border shall be upon Sidon." And nothing
could exceed the satisfaction of the Colonel.
"Glasgow, quite clearly — eh, what?
58
A Soldier of the Lord
"You are rising to it, I see," and the veteran
surveyed the silent minister with huge delight.
"We know our tribe now; we are the men of
Zebulun, and every promise that was ever made
to Zebulun belongs to us. We have a new
ground for prayer now, and you have a fine text
for next Sunday morning. Unless I am mis-
taken, this discovery should waken up St. Jude's,
and if we do our duty, the whole city should
share the blessing."
The good man was much grieved when his
fellow elders received the communication on
Zebulun in a suggestive silence, and politely but
firmly refused to spread the truth as they vis-
ited their districts. To tell the truth, the breth-
ren gradually became alarmed when they saw the
Colonel making for Packenham's historical dis-
covery, and Carmichael had to intervene at the
merest hint of Zebulun. The Colonel was seri-j
ously hurt when he was not allowed to address'
the prayer-meeting upon this vital subject, and
to read a paper which he had laboriously pre-
pared under the pleasing title, "The Localization
of the Ten Tribes, the Latest Revelation of
59
St. Judc's
Scriptural Truth." As Carmichael would not
have offended this simple heart on any consider-
ation, he was immensely relieved to find that the
Colonel had, after a time, lost interest in the
tribe of Zebulun, and had embarked on a new
quest. He was very mysterious, and only
dropped hints ; but the minister was allowed to
know that, however important was the achieve-
ment of Major Packenham, Colonel MacBean
had far exceeded him.
"It was in the Revelation, and one morning
in my daily reading, that I got the first sugges-
tion, and I will just tell you, sir, it was through
a number. Where would we be without the
numbers in that wonderful Book? Since then
I have been working, I may say, night and day,
and the truth is opening up in every book of
the Bible, and not in the Bible only, but also in
human history from beginning to end. Why, the
daily newspapers are shedding light. I've spent
three afternoons examining a file of the Times.
When I mention the battle of Waterloo and
Napoleon Bonaparte, I suspect you know my
country. But not another word to-day. One
60
A Soldier of the Lord
has to see that the evidence is conclusive before
he says a word."
"I've no doubt, however, sir," said the Colo-
nel before leaving that morning, "that I shall
soon have concluded my labor of love. I've
never enjoyed anything more, and I hope on
this occasion to be able to show this wonder-
ful discovery, not merely to the mind, but also to
the eye — eh, what? to the eye, sir. I used to
be pretty good at maps, and although I haven't
done anything for some years in that depart-
ment, I rather think my hand will not have lost
its cunning." And on this occasion the min-
ister could only faintly imagine what astounding
treasure the veteran had found in his Bible.
The Colonel did not go much into society,
partly because he was not at home with civilians,
partly because he saved his time for esoteric
study in Holy Scripture ; but he clutched greed-
ily at an invitation to dinner at one of the elders,
which was really intended to be a social function
for the Session. He inquired anxiously some
days before whether Carmichael was certain to
be there, and expressed his hope that he would
6i
St. Jude's
meet most of the elders. The impression grew
in Carmichael's mind that the Colonel was to
utilize the evening, and redeem it from any ten-
dency to frivolity by making his brethren par-
takers of the last result of Bible study. But
even Carmichael was astonished when MacBean
drove up to the door with two huge maps eight
feet long upon the roof of the cab, and the cab-
man's face between their projecting ends was
most vivacious. He pointed gayly with his
thumb over his shoulder to the Colonel within,
and indicated that there were great sources of
amusement in his fare; and when the Colonel,
assisted by Carmichael, worked this remarkable
luggage into the hall, the cabman was firmly con-
vinced that time would fly that evening.
While the guests were assembling in the draw-
ing-room the veteran, with much cunning and
the bribed assistance of a waiter, had fastened
his maps on the dining-room wall, but had
adroitly covered them with sheets, so that no
one knew what was underneath. The conver-
sation during the feast was a little distracted by
the mystery on the walls, and the stimulating
62
A Soldier of the Lord
allusions of the Colonel, who was in great spir-
its, and gave it to be understood that if they
had not risen to Zebulun, they would this even-
ing be absolutely captivated. When the hostess
left the room, curiosity had risen as near fever
height as it ever could with solid merchants and
douce Scots elders. So the clerk of the Session
suggested that the veil should be removed and
the company be taken into the secret. His
brethren were not unaccustomed to the Colo-
nel's Scriptural eccentricities, but there was a
general tribute of quite unaffected admiration
for his originality when they saw the maps un-
veiled. It was felt then, and freely expressed
afterwards, that the Colonel had excelled even
himself, and had reached high-water mark in
his line of Bible investigation. For the first
map contained what might be called a detailed
religious history of the human race, from Adam
and Eve, whose likenesses were inserted at the
top, on to the Franco-Prussian War, with a
lifelike portrait of the Emperor William, and the
map was black with lines of connection, rich in
texts from the prophets, and here and there
63
St. Jude's
illuminated by thumb-nail sketches of tabernacles
and battlefields.
If this map reduced the brethren to a reverent
silence as the Colonel rapidly traced the purpose
of Providence through every kind of circum-
stance, and found its instruments in every kind
of man, the second map plunged them into abso-
lute despair. For it was the plan of the future,
and anticipated the story of the human race
through all the changes to come on to the battle
of Armageddon. The ramifications v^^ere even
more intricate than in the other map, and the
texts ten times more ingenious, v^^hile the Pope
figured from time to time, and the likenesses of
certain of the Napoleon family, who were to
command army corps at the decisive battle which
would conclude the era, left nothing to be de-
sired.
If the more quick-witted of his brethren were
able to keep this daring explorer within sight
during his resume of the past, no one pretended
to follow him in his lightning progress through
the future. Everyone, however, admired his
vivid description of the great battle, in which
64
A Soldier of the Lord
his military knowledge served him bravely, and
when he ceased — having given the date with the
utmost confidence and exactness — there might
have been some little hesitation about his pro-
phetic facts, but there was a general feeling of
pride that a man of such brilliant imagination
and superhuman ingenuity should be an office-
bearer in St. Jude's Church. The Colonel still
carries his maps with him, especially when he
goes to visit his former brothers-in-arms and
present colleagues in Bible study, and, from what
he told Carmichael, the eflfect produced on a
little gathering at Major Packenham's was quite
monumental.
Rumors reached his brethren of visits to re-
ligious conferences up and down the country,
where he was heard greedily on account of the
freshness of his views, and the unction of his
spirit, and religious periodicals chronicled a de-
fense of verbal inspiration by our Colonel which
is quoted to this day.
"If any one here has fallen into the snare of
the Devil, and has lost his belief in the full and
perfect inspiration of the Bible," so the Colonel
65
St. Jude*s
was reported to have said, let him turn to the
vision of Isaiah, and he -will get his feet again
upon the rock. What happened to the prophet ?
One of the seraphim, laid a live coal upon his
mouth, and, mark you, just to show how exact
Scripture is, touched Isaiah's lips. Not one lip,
you observe, but lips, both lips. Well, friends,
what followed? Of course his lips were burned
away, and after that he had no lips ; but you say
to me, was he not a prophet, and did he not
speak, and how can a man speak if he has no
lips? Quite right to ask the question; that
brings you to the very depth of the matter, for
the Scriptures are a great deep. He could not
speak after his lips were taken away, and so the
Lord spoke through him as through a trumpet.
Will any man after that say that the writers of
the Bible were not inspired?" The Colonel was
very modest over this vindication, but he did
feel that he had been the means of safeguarding
truth against the attacks of the enemy.
It may be frankly confessed that there were
times when his brethren were apt to smile at the
veteran, and that Carmichael was not able —
66
A Soldier of the Lord
simply through his youthfulness, the Colonel
believed — to accept the more recondite truths
which the good man offered ; but every one
loved him, and even apart from his career and
the cut on his lip, they knew that he was a man,
and also a gentleman. While he was fiercely and
unflinchingly orthodox, and was never weary of
denouncing rationaHsm and Romanism, and
speaking of their defenders as if they were
Afghan tribes, yet he intensely loathed every
form of persecution for religion's sake, and
would have nothing to do with ignoble methods.
When Simeon MacQuittrick came before the
elders, and complained to them of Cannichael's
unsound teaching on the fatherhood of God, and
proposed to substantiate his charges, not from
what the minister had said in public, but from
what Carmichael had said to AlacQuittrick in
his own study, the Colonel grew restless, and as
soon as Simeon had sat down, he sprang to
his feet.
"Do I understand that Mr. MacQuittrick pur-
poses to avail himself of a private conversation
for the purposes of a public prosecution? I
67
St. Jude's
earnestly hope that I have misunderstood this
gentleman's intention, and if I have I will in-
stantly apologize to him for such an unworthy
suggestion."
On learning that that was exactly what Simeon
intended to do, and that it was what was always
done in such cases, and that it was something
MacQuittrick thought ought to be done, and
that, in short, everything was lawful in the serv-
ice of the faith, the Colonel turned purple with
indignation, and glared on the miserable man
as if he had been an Afghan spy caught in the
act of assassination.
"We ought to love the truth !" thundered the
Colonel, and to this day Carmichael hears the
knightly accent in the gallant veteran's voice :
"we ought to study the truth, we ought to defend
the truth, if need be we ought to die for the
truth, but as God made us, and our Lord re-
deemed us, we ought to live and die like gentle-
men of Christ.'*
68
Bn HrrcGular Cbriettan
Hn Irregular Cbristian
By the sovereign will of the seat-letting com-
mittee, which did as it pleased with every person
in St. Jude's Church, this young man was planted,
a solitary male, in a pew of old maiden ladies.
He came by evident arrangement late, when the
good women had settled themselves, and after
nodding cheerfully to them, and receiving in re-
turn a subdued but gracious salutation, he set
himself down with an air of confidence at the
end of the pew. Carmichael's range of vision
was not far, and not conspicuously accurate, but
he had no doubt whatever regarding that seat-
holder. From the crown of his head to the sole
of his foot, by his smart dress, his alert expres-
sion, his keen attention, any one could identify
him as a business man, and one who was not
going to be left in the race. If he were a clerk,
he would be a manager; very likely he was
already a junior partner. He gave close atten-
tion to whatever was said, but one knew that he
71
St. Jude's
would reserve his judgment, and that he would
not be taking any twaddle. If occasionally he
withdrew his mind, and occupied himself with a
private problem, it was because the minister had
become technical, and was speaking of things
beyond his province. Carmichael got into the
habit, after a month or two, of addressing pas-
sages to him personally, and wondered whether
he had been convinced by the argument, and
whether he would yield to the appeal. His face
never gave any sign, and a strong curiosity took
hold of the minister's mind to know where that
hearer was and what he thought. Once a week
the minister invited young men who lived in
rooms to come to his house and spend the even-
ing, and he used to look expectantly as each
man came, but this face never appeared. He
concluded at last that this was not the kind to
come with young lads from the country, or with
Sunday-school teachers. So he wrote a letter
inviting him to spend an hour in the study, and
received a short but perfectly courteous answer
of acceptance.
Carmichael's distant impression of Sturrock
72
An Irregular Christian
was confirmed when he entered the room, and
immensely deepened before he left it. His vis-
itor was not forward nor conceited, but he was
distinctly self-respecting and absolutely self-
reliant; he was not garrulous in speech nor
opinionative, but he had clear-cut ideas and an
incisive, laconic style. Small talk he would
regard as a waste of time, and no one except a
fool would offer him conventional religious re-
marks. If you have anything to say worth hear-
ing, let me have it; if there is any information
I can give you, tell me what it is, was the sug-
gestion of his manner, and Carmichael hastened
to explain that as minister he wished to know
his congregation, and therefore he had taken the
liberty of asking for this interview. As Sturrock
simply bowed and waited for Carmichael to give
the lead, there remained nothing for it but an
inquiry about the state of business. Sturrock,
who had his own ideas of the ignorance and
futility of the clerical mind, glanced doubtfully
at his host, but when he was convinced that Car-
michael was in earnest, desiring to know about
every province of life, and that amid a multi-
73
St. Jude*s;
tude of faults he was not an affected humbug,
the visitor spoke clearly and to the point.
Within ten minutes Carmichael had learned more
about the iron trade on all its sides and in all its
ways than he had ever gathered from every kind
of source all his life. Before Sturrock left, Car-
michael paid him an honest tribute of admira-
tion, and recorded his conviction that what Stur-
rock did not know about iron, at least as an arti-
cle of merchandise, must be relegated to the
province of nonsense.
"Well," said Sturrock with perfect modesty,
"I know as much about iron as most men of my
age, but of course I take no credit. Iron is my
business, and by iron I am going to succeed. The
way I look at it is this : if a man is to do any-
thing big, he must not spread himself over a lot
of departments and interests ; he must concen-
trate and do one thing. I read iron, I think
about iron, I deal in iron, I dream about iron."
And as Sturrock proclaimed his mission, Car-
michael began to regard him with a respect
which is due to a man who has fixed upon the
prize of life and means to have it, and it seemed
74
An Irregular Christian
to him as if the iron in which he worked had
passed into his blood.
"I wish every man was as keen about his Hfe-
work," said the minister, ''You fairly brace a
fellow up by your talk. But I say, have you not
got any relief from iron or any recreation?
What about your by-products? Do you go in
for books, or are you a sportsman? One can't
live on iron, can one?"
"No, I grant that, and I used to play football
in a Rugger team, but I gave that up two years
ago, as I got rather badly hurt, and that inter-
fered with business. My side-show is music. I
would rather hear a first-class singer than have
any other pleasure in life. My luxury is a con-
cert, and I am going to keep up my musical taste
for the future. No man can work forever at my
rate, and I have determined to make my pile
before I am fifty. Next year I expect to get a
partnership, and after that do not think I shall
ever look back. When a man retires, he must
have something to do ; then I shall go in for
music, just for my pleasure, — music and a gar-
den in the country." As Sturrock spoke of his
75
St. Jude's
final ideal, the finest of the arts and the sweetest
of places, his face gentle, Carmichael realized
that the man was not all iron.
That evening he did not think it wise to
speak to his visitor about religion, for he was
not a man whose confidence could be forced ; but
after several visits, during which Carmichael
learned to respect the simplicity and sincerity of
the man, he broached the chief subject of hu-
man life. And then Sturrock stated his posi-
tion, and, as usual, he had made up his mind.
"I am not an infidel, and I hold that no man
knows enough, or can ever know enough, to
deny that there is a God. On the contrary, I
believe that a God is the best working explana-
tion of this universe, which is a very complicated
aflfair, but, on the whole, must be intelligent
and moral. I am certain, so far as I can gather,
— for I have been too busy with iron to read
much, — that Jesus is the most reasonable relig-
ious preacher, and the most perfect man in
human history. When I was young my mother
taught me the Bible, and it makes me mad to
hear some glorious fool attacking the Book. I
76
An Irregular Christian
have promised my mother to go to church once
a day, and I would like to say that I feel better
when I go to my rooms, — I mean more reverent
and more kindly, as well as more determined
to do what is right; but I want to say quite
straightly that I am not a Christian, and that I
do not see my way to become one." And when
Carmichael thanked him for this confidence and
asked him if he would go a little further and
give his reasons, he responded with perfect
frankness.
"Upon the whole, I have two reasons. One is
Christianity, especially as it is stated in the
Sermon on the Mount ; that is a passage which
I often read, and it seems to me simply magnifi-
cent, but it is impossible, no one could live up
to that ideal, and it is better not to attempt
what you can't do, or to pretend to be what
you are not. So I admire, but I do not profess.
Attending church, so long as you are not a
communicant, I do not think commits me, but
I have determined never to take the sacrament."
And then Carmichael asked for his other rea-
son, and Sturrock was again quite downright.
77
St. Jude's
"It is Christians; if you knew the kind of
men in our business, and in the other markets
who are elders in the kirk, and address meetings
and generally pose as representatives of Chris-
tianity, you would understand why many a plain
man who tries to do his work decently and does
not play the fool is sick of religion. What can
be more disgusting and destructive of morals
than a man prating about the atonement and
conversion, while you can't depend upon his
word in a bargain, and in his last bankruptcy
he paid five shillings and sixpence in the pound.
Of course I know that there are many perfectly
honorable Christians, but we have got too many
of the other sort, therefore I prefer to stand
outside." And, although Carmichael plied him
then and afterward with many arguments, he
could not shift Sturrock from his position.
It was only a week after this conversation
that Carmichael was summoned in hot haste to
Sturrock's rooms, and found him dangerously
ill. Within forty-eight hours his strength had
departed, and one looking on his face could not
rid himself of the fear that this man, so charged
78
An Irregular Christian
with life in mind and body, was going to be cut
off in his strength. But he was as clear and
composed as usual, and did not whimper about
this sudden disaster.
"You did not expect to find me on my back,
Mr. Carmichael, next time you saw me," and
he smiled cheerfully, as one accepting the haz-
ards of life. "Two days ago I was a sound man,
now I am as weak as a cat. Medicine men, the
world over, make a great mystery of their work,
and, although my doctor is a very decent, as
well as clever fellow, I can't dig the truth out
of him ; I know what is wrong with me, but
I can't find out whether I am going to pull
through ; on the whole I think the chances are
against me, and that I shall peg out. So I
thought you wouldn't mind me troubling you to
look in for five minutes, as there are one or two
things I should like to speak to you about. Of
course if I live, all right, but I take no risks."
Carmichael, who was a little shaken to see
the change, began to express his sympathy, and
his hopes for a good issue, but Sturrock at
once interrupted him.
79
St. Jude's
"Thanks very much, I knew you would be
rather hit when you saw me down, and I don't
mind confessing- that I had hoped we should
have been good friends for many years; you
and I may not think quite ahke on everything,
which after all one couldn't expect, but you are
the kind of parson I like and have been looking
for. But if it's all the same to you we won't
speak about my illness; medical details are
rather bad form. As regards death, that of
course is one of the incidents in a man's life, a
very big one, no doubt, but sooner or later in-
evitable ; if it comes to me to-morrow it will be
sooner rather than later, that is all the differ-
ence. If a soldier falls, and some of our people
have been killed in battle quite as young, nobody
makes a moan about it. When my uncle was
mortally wounded on the slope of Alma he said
to his men, 'On you go, lads, I'm all right;' an
hour after that they found him dead on the
field. Why should civilians take themselves so
seriously, and make such a drama of dying? I
call it sheer want of pluck, and a lot of self-
conceit.
86
An Irregular Christian
"My slight affairs are all arranged, and I'm
not going to trouble you about business, for
that is out of your beat, but if it won't bother
you, especially as I don't feel equal to writing, I
would be awfully obliged if you would give a
message to the one person I love dearly, and
whom I may say, without cant, I love with all
my heart. No," he said with a smile, "it's not
what you imagine ; I've been too busy a man for
that. I never told you about her, but you know
my mother is living, and, while every man thinks
his to be the best, or ought to, I tell you mine,
as children say, is the very bcstest; she is the
truest, bravest, faithfulest, tenderest woman I
ever came across, or ever expect to see. My
worthy landlady wanted to send for her yester-
day, but I would not allow her, for I am deter-
mined she shall not come until the issue is set-
tled. If I am going to die I do not want her to
see th<i end ; it would be better for her to re-
member me as I was in life; of course, if it be
the other way, then she will simply love to come
up and nurse me; she will be great at making
beef tea, and putting eau de Cologne on my
8i
St. Jude's
forehead, and generally treating me, dear kind
soul, as if I were a small boy again. But, you
understand, she's to hear nothing till to-morrow.
"If I am not here," said Sturrock, after a
■pause, "it would be a great kindness to go down
to our little village and tell her what has hap-
pened. It's a horrid thing to ask of you, but I
would rather you did it than any other man;
you will tell her why she was not sent for, and
that it was not because I loved her less, but,"
and this was the only time his voice weakened,
"but because I loved her more. My life has
been rather one of pushing and striving, and I
dare say it has been selfish, but I have tried to
do the best for her. That really Is all I have to
say, and I thank you in advance."
"You may depend upon me, Sturrock," said
Carmichael, deeply moved, for he was thinking
of his own mother's death ; "I pray God I may
not need to make that journey, but if I have —
well, I'm a widow's son." And then, after a
short silence, during which Carmichael walked
to the window and back, he sat down by the
bedside, and at last spoke.
82
An Irregular Christian
"You said a minute ago that you rather hked
me, and I have been — drawn to you ; we are
friends, and, although it's rather hard to speak
about some things, and I'm not here as a min-
ister, I can't bid you good-bye in silence. You
say that you have settled your business affairs ;
have you settled your spiritual affairs? You
know what I mean ; I wish I had better words,
but if you are to make the great journey, have
you hope? Forgive me if I intrude upon your
soul, but it is because I am your friend."
"I perfectly understand," said the sick man,
slowly, "and I suppose you could not do other-
wise ; pardon me, that is not very gracious ; I
accept your question as an act of friendship. I
will tell you how I stand, and then we need not
speak of this again, even if I see you. When I
told you that I was not a Christian I knew the
risk that I was taking, for I have not been a
skeptic. I have always believed that if a man
accepted the conditions of Jesus, and took up
his cross — which I think is a splendid description
of the Christian — he would receive a great re-
ward in spiritual things, both in this world and
83
St. Jude's
in that which is to come, for there must be a
glorious future before the soul. I counted the
cost, and looked the situation round, and I was
not prepared to — what shall I say? — enlist
under the army regulations. I chose the other
side — by that I mean I determined to make the
most of this present world, and if I live, which
is rather more than doubtful, I should receive
its reward, — work, I mean, success, riches,
power, art, and such like. As is likely, I shall
get nothing, and my speculation will then have
been a mistake. I have not had time to win this
world, and I shall have lost the other world,
for, whatever it be, and I have never supposed
it was going to be a church where the people
were singing psalms forever, it will be consti-
tuted on the principles of Jesus. I am afraid,"
concluded Sturrock, with a pathetic smile, "my
knowledge of iron will not be of any further
use."
"I do not believe, my friend, that you chose
the other side, for the men who fight against
Jesus are of a different breed. But this is not
the time for arguing. Suppose you have refused
84
An Irregular Christian
the Master's call, as a young man like you once
did long ago, it is not too late to reverse your
decision and accept Jesus as your Lord. You
are just the kind of disciple he wants, for you're
a deal better than most of us who call ourselves
Christians; and look here, Sturrock, I believe
the Master loves you."
"You are awfully good," replied Sturrock,
"and think much too highly of your friends, but
frankly I wish you had not made that appeal ; I
know that this is what is said to dying men, and
that they are told to repent at the eleventh
hour. Last week that miserable rascal who mur-
dered his wife had some wonderful experiences
before he mounted the scaffold, and he delight-
ed the chaplain and the religious world by say-
ing before he was hanged — and no man ever
earned his death more thoroughly — that he
would soon be in the arms of Jesus. Perhaps
he was right ; the future is a great mystery, and
the ways of the Eternal are past finding out.
But, speaking as a mere man, it seemed to me
a pitiable incident." And as Sturrock had some-
thing more to say, Carmichael waited.
85
St. Jude's
"One ought not to be too hard, I suppose,
upon an abject like that, without education, and
without self-respect; a mere log on the stream
of life. If he did with the last tide float into
some quiet back-water, so much the better for
him, and perhaps for us all. But it would be
another story if one like myself, who has been
master of his fate, and has taken his Hfe in
his hands to use it as he judged best, should
give, say its fifteen best years to one lord, and
then when he had found his choice a mistake to
take the last twelve hours and oflfer them to
Jesus Christ in order to secure safety in the
world to come. This is not consistent with man-
hood, and it were a miserable introduction into
the next world. Upon this point my mind is
made up, and as I am a little exhausted I fear
I must say good-bye." And so Carmichael de-
parted in gloom of mind and great sorrow of
heart, trying to comfort himself with the re-
membrance that he had never known an hon-
ester or braver man than Sturrock, and that
every man, believing and unbelieving, was in
the hands of the Divine mercy.
86
An Irregular Christian
While Sturrock was prepared for either
chance, Carmichael knew that he would fight
for his hfe Hke a tiger, and by sheer will-power
he beat the enemy. He was determined to live,
and therefore, the doctors said afterwards, he
did live when he should have died. Perhaps it
was that he might do his work, and perhaps it
was for his mother's sake. Carmichael had no
doubt, and used always to tell Mrs. Sturrock
that it was for love of her her son came up
from the gates of death. That very evening he
began to mend, and within two days his mother
was by his side. Then Carmichael saw another
side of his friend's character. Mrs. Sturrock
was the gentlest and kindest of little women,
to whom babies rushed from their mothers'
arms, and whom big men wished to serve; but
in that sick-room she was an absolute despot.
She scolded her son severely for not having
sent for her at once (she was never told the
reason), and that masterful man cowered before
her, and whined mendacious excuses. He fol-
lowed her with fond eyes as she moved through
the room, and pretended to be asleep when he
87
St. Jude's
was wide awake in order to please her. He
pleaded for forbidden dainties with mock elo-
quence, and pretended to sob when they were
refused him. He allowed her to wash his face
and hands and comb his hair without a mur-
mur, but refused to go to sleep at night until
she kissed him. He would listen for an hour on
end while she read to him her favorite religious
book, and would have been quite pleased if that
dear nurse had read a botanical dictionary ; for,
as he said to Carmichael, "Did you ever hear
such a soothing voice? It's just like a caress."
And then he would tell the minister how, when
he was a small boy, and the sermon in kirk was
very long, his mother allowed him to rub his
cheek against her sealskin jacket, — one of the
few remains of her richer days. His mother
would then retort by telling stories of his boyish
exploits and rampageous wickedness, but Car-
michael noticed that all the stories left a balance
of credit to her son's side. It was a bare room
when she came, but within an hour, by re-
arrangement of the furniture and flowers by the
bedside, and little touches here and little touches
88
An Irregular Christian
there, and chiefly by her presence, like an atmos-
phere encompassing the invaHd, that bedroom
had become home. This hard-headed and reso-
lute iron merchant was a little lad again in the
old house, and his mother was watching over
him as she had done through the ailments of
his childhood, and every night before he went
to sleep he had to say the Lord's Prayer, and
he did so like a man, or rather as a little child.
Mrs. Sturrock felt it her duty to keep a firm
hold upon her foolish son when in the bedroom
lest he should get the better of her and coax
her to allow him to do wrong things ; but in
the sitting-room she lifted up her voice to the
minister and sang his praise.
"Hugh is a hearer in your church, Mr, Car-
michael, and you have been very kind to him,
for which you have a mother's gratitude, but
yoti cannot know what a son he has been to me.
I heard it said once that he was an able and a
hard man. I'm judging that he is able, for he
carried off the prizes by the dozen at school.
But hard! Little they ken," and the mother
laughed triumphantly. "Just let me tell you.
89
St. Jude's
"It's thirteen years ago since I lost my hus-
band and was left with two children, my daugh-
ter, who had just married, and Hugh. He was
coming out of his apprenticeship at the time,
and he got a good situation for such a lad, but
the salary was only a hundred pounds. I will
tell you something, Mr. Carmichael, but it is
never to go beyond your lips. He sent me half
his salary the first year, and I never could tell
how he lived on the other half; if I'd known at
the time what he had I wouldn't have taken it,
but he gave me to understand that he had a
hundred and fifty. They say he's honorable in
business, but he's played a lot of tricks on his
mother. Whenever his salary was raised there
was so much more came to me; he began by
sending it weekly, and he continues to do that
to this day, but I count the letter which comes
with the money better than the check, but maybe
I'm wearying you?"
"Wearying?" cried Carmichael, who was hav-
ing his suspicions splendidly confirmed.
"Nor is that all, if I must tell you the whole
story. My poor daughter and her husband died
90
An Irregular Christian
within two months of each other eight years
ago, and if Hugh hasn't taken charge of the
family, and says he's going to give them the
best education in Scotland. There's a present
for each of the bairns on their birthdays ; as for
me, Mr. Carmichael, the gifts Hugh sends me at
New-year's time and other times, too, make me
ashamed, even my very marriage day he knows
and remembers. It would take an hour to give
you the Hst, but I could do it and not forget
one. It does not become me, however, to go
on like this about my son."
"If you stop, Mrs. Sturrock, we'll quarrel. I
was also an only son," and Mrs. Sturrock
brought her eulogy to a glowing conclusion.
"There is one thing, Mr. Carmichael, which
touches my heart most of all, and will let you
see what sort of man Hugh is. When there is
an occasional holiday like New-year's day,
where do you think he goes? Comes down to
our village and spends it with me. When his
yearly holiday comes round, and other men like
him go away with a friend, whom do you think
Hugh takes? I see you know more about him
91
St Jude*s
than I thought. 'Yes,' he said to me, 'mother,
you're my oldest friend, and we go together,'
and as soon as he was able he took lodgings at
the seaside for me and the bairns, and every
year we have a better house, just as he rises a
little in life. And he declares that next year
he's going to take me to the Continent. Did
you ever hear such nonsense? But best of all,
Mr. Carmichael, I never heard him say a bad
word, nor tell a lie, nor do an ill deed all his
days. He is not a church-member, and that's
the only thing that's ever given me concern, and
about which we diflfer. He has conscientious
difficulties, and I could not press the matter, but
if ever there was a true Christian, I will say it
though I be his mother, it's my son."
"Kate," said Carmichael, when he went home
that afternoon, "my firm belief is that the last
witness who will be called in each man's case at
the judgment day will be his mother, and that no
man's fate will be settled till she has spoken. H
she has no word to say for him, that son's doom
is settled, but after certain mothers have given
their testimony the angels will go to the back
92
An Irregular Christian
of the crowd and bring men forward who have
never been on the roll of our churches, and
place them in the reserved seats beside their
mothers."
"Good man, never heard a sounder word from
your lips," said Kate ; "but, John, if you are go-
ing to say that kind of thing in the pulpit, as
you value your life, turn it into religious dialect."
Which Carmichael did.
93
Iflatbanael
fllatbanael
The remnant of the supralapsarians judged
James Marchmont to be a mere amateur in doc-
trine, and a victim of feeble good-nature in
conduct ; possibly a genuine Christian, but with-
out discernment of mind or firmness of will.
The congregation, from the oldest to the young-
est, placed him an easy first among the elders,
and on account of the simplicity, purity and
charity of the man called him Nathanael. His
was indeed a disposition of almost exasperating
patience and sweetness.
When the chief bore of St. Jude's (whom
the church officer called "that thing" and Car-
michael had to put down with firmness at con-
gregational meetings, before whom even
stalwarts fled in the city and at sight of whom
guilds hastily dispersed) had some new fad to
ventilate, he lay in wait for Marchmont, and that
Christian martyr would listen for an hour on
end to the dreary flow of twaddle. Into his
97
St. Jude's
sympathetic ears Mrs. MacWhae, a woman of
broken spirit and perpetual tears, would pour
her woes about her two sons, lads of excellent
character and sound ability, because one would
not teach in the Sunday-school and the other
played football on Saturdays. And when Peter
MacCraw, the malcontent of St. Jude's would
be raging furiously over the church accounts,
and the indignant office-bearers were treating
him with frank discourtesy, Marchmont would
go out of his way to appreciate Peter's con-
scientiousness, and talk that pragmatical man
almost into reason.
If there was a quarrel in the church Nathanael
was employed as mediator, and scarcely ever
failed to settle the affair. If there was any
sorrow heavier than another he was a presence of
comfort, and he used then to be called Barnabas,
the son of consolation ; on other occasions he
was compared to John ; and indeed he monopo-
lized, in the talk of the congregation, all the
attractive male characters in Bible history, and
just stopped short by the barrier of sex from
being called Dorcas. For years he had admii)-
,8
Nathanael
istered the poor's fund, and it was understood,
although he would have been much pained if
this had been known, that he doubled the grants
out of his own pocket, and he managed the
Sunday-school as if the children had been his
own family.
Politicians of both sides besought him to enter
the City Council, and promised that whatever
were his views there would be no contest. When
he stood behind the collection plate at the church
door people realized that giving was an act of
worship, and when he carried the cup in the
sacrament his face was a benediction. It was
even said that Simeon MacQuittrick was soft-
ened in his company, and had admitted the pos-
sibility of salvation for members of the Estab-
lished Church ; but this put a heavy strain upon
our credulity, and was considered to be rather a
parabolic compliment to Nathanael than a
statement of fact about that uncompromising
Covenanter.
His ways were so unworldly and his character
so winsome that he was surrounded with an
atmosphere of romance, and his life became a
99
St. Jude's
kind of idyll. As a matter of fact, he had in his
day been an iron merchant — one of the most
speculative and shrewdest of businesses — and by
a lucky inspiration had gone on selling for three
months with a falling market, and at the end of
the crisis wisely retired with a competency. But
as foresight of this kind was thought inconsis-
tent with his ingenuous nature, it came to be
believed that the worldlings of the iron market,
recognizing one righteous man in their city, had
simply thrust business upon him as one showers
gifts upon a happy child.
His wife had died after a brief married life,
and people of accurate memory and candid
speech described her as a not very good-looking
and rather flighty young woman. But she died
in giving birth to his only child, so in course of
time her person had been surrounded with a
golden mist, and he had come to think of her as
a beautiful saint. When reference was made
from the pulpit to the Virgin Mary, or to St.
Elizabeth of Hungary, or St, Theresa, or St.
Margaret of Scotland, or any other holy woman
who had touched the religious imagination, he
lOO
Nathanael
was always much softened, and used to thank
Carmichael with tears in his eyes.
He had an enlarged photograph of her in his
dressing-room and he carried a small copy in his
breast pocket. If any man lost his wife he
shared the bereavement with unaffected emo-
tion, and the only time when he could be angry
was if any one ill-used a young child, or if any
misguided man made a second marriage. He
was careful to say that he judged no man, and
that there might be reasons of expediency for
such a step, but in his view the ideal marriage
was that of one man and one woman united for
time and eternity, and he dwelt fondly upon the
thought that his young wife presided over his
life as a guardian angel. Whether or not Mrs.
Marchmont had really been a rather common-
place and not very refined young woman did not
matter ; her distant face had been glorified and
her whole life spiritualized, and more than any
other influence she had gentled James March-
mont's life.
The chivalrous romance with which our Na-
thanael had invested the memory of his wife in-
St. Jude's
eluded also his son and their only child. It was
a felicitous convention in St. Jude's to accept
Marchmont's deliverances as heavenly inspira-
tions and never at any time to criticise them, and
it was our earnest desire and strenuous effort
not only to sympathize with his devotion to a
departed saint, but also to accept his fond esti-
mate of the boy. His father had called him
Leslie, because that was his mother's maiden
surname, and it was his delight to tell his friends
how the mother was living in her son, for whom
she sacrificed her life, and how his earthly com-
fort was to see her living portrait.
There was no virtue Nathanael did not find
in Leslie and no fault he had ever been able to
discover; indeed, he confided to Carmichael once
his fear that a lad so pure and gracious, sweet
and obedient, would not be spared long on earth,
but would soon be again resumed by heaven,
where his mother was wearying for him. Car-
michael was in that hour torn by conflicting
forces — his affectionate reverence for March-
mont, whom he looked upon as a father, and
his keen sense of reality.
I02
Nathanael
When doting mothers enlarged upon the
superlative qualities of prodigal sons, Carmichael
was sometimes tempted to laugh and sometimes
to rage, but when Nathanael sang with tremu-
lous accents the idyll of Leslie, the tears came to
the minister's heart. It was not that the lad
was evil-tempered, or vicious, or repulsive, or
disobedient. There was not enough strength in
him to do anything very bad or to be very dis-
agreeable. He had a foolish face and a feeble
constitution, but his manner was plausible and
pleasing. Upon no occasion, as his father used
to boast, had he ever refused to do anything he
was asked; this was likely true, but then what-
ever he promised he was never likely to do. His
was the pliable type which is ever saying, I go,
but goes not.
With his father he was kindness itself, so far
as sentimental words and friendly little offices
went. It did one good to see him helping his
father to put on his top coat, or taking care
that his father's throat was well covered, and it
was mentioned as a proof of filial piety that
when Leslie was asked to take his turn at the
103
St. Jude*s
penny savings bank he excused himself with a
modest smile, as of one not wishing to make his
good works known, because he felt that his place
was by his lonely father's side. And if Mr.
Marchmont was detained from church by any
illness, however slight, there was no power, not
even his father's wish, that would induce Leslie
to leave the house on Sunday.
It is true he might spend Monday in the city
where he had no work to do, but then he always
brought home a flower or some other trifle for
his father, bought, as his father reflected, at a
sacrifice out of his allowance. "J^st to show,
father, that though I did not see you I was
thinking of you ;" and then he would kiss him in
the most afifecting manner. He had all kinds of
nice little ways, and if you had only seen him for
an evening when he was encompassing his
father with observances^ Leslie might have de-
ceived the very elect.
Leslie's career would have disillusionized any
one except Nathanael, and it left no doubt in
the general mind about the lad's weakness. His
enthusiasm when he went to school was so glow-
104
Nathanael
ing that his father thanked God that there would
be one scholar at least in his family, and his
devotion to work in the evening for the first ten
days was so extreme that his father consulted
the doctor and counseled prudence. "My only
fear is that the sword may wear out the scab-
bard ; it is often so with those bright and eager
minds." As a docile boy, Leslie took his father's
warning to heart and restrained his energy so
carefully that, in his report upon Leslie's first
term the master complained of a tendency to
inattention and a want of application, and a year
afterward told his father plainly that Leslie was
incurably slack and careless, and that although
his ability was not naturally great, he would not
even use what he had.
For a brief hour Marchmont was shaken by
this deliverance, and spoke as seriously as he
could to his son. The lad was so much hurt, not
by the headmaster's hard words, for "he does
not understand me," but by his father's disap-
pointment, "for I just live on your approval"
(from his earliest days Leslie had a prolific
genius for polite phrases), that his father ac-
105
St. Jude's
cused himself bitterly of cruelty, and set hirrt-
self to comfort the sufferer.
For days Leslie wore a countenance of chas-
tened resignation, and only slowly regained his
former manner, and his father explained, that he
had sent him to another school,
"If the dear lad has sympathy and feels that
he is loved, he can do anything ; if he is harshly
treated, he shrivels up like a blossom stricken
by the frost."
And we did not laugh, because it was Nathan-
ael speaking, but if it could have been kept from
his father, any of the elders would have been
glad to box Leslie's ears.
From the second school the tender plant had
to be withdrawn on account of the rudeness of
the boys in their games, and also an assault made
upon Leslie on a false charge of sneaking.
"He has, unfortunately for him," his father
remarked, "my wife's refinement of manner and
shrinking from rough people. Were it not that
he is really so brave and manly, without any
assumption I could have wished that he were a
girl ; he has so fine and sweet a disposition."
io6
Nathanael
His nature indeed was so delicate that his
education was completed at home with the aid
of a private tutor. This arrangement was most
satisfactory to Leslie, for one reason — it al-
lowed him to be all forenoon under the same
roof with his father, and he made a point every
hour of leaving his work for a considerable time
just to see that his father was not too lonely,
and to render him any passing service.
When the time came for Leslie to go into
business, Mr. Marchmont took immense trouble
to secure a suitable office, and in this he had
Leslie's most hearty and interested attention.
There was some wild talk to begin with about
his being apprenticed as an engineer, and his
father, owing to past business connections, could
have secured him an excellent opening. But
Leslie, while himself longing above all things for
the calling of an engineer, refused to enter upon
any work which would oblige him to leave his
father alone from five in the morning to seven
in the evening.
"Poor lad, I cannot help appreciating his af-
fection, but I am sorry he has refused this
107
St. Jude's
chance ; however, when it's a question about me,
you know how obstinate he is. 'Father,' he said
to me yesterday, 'there are only two of us ; we
must keep close together.' "
A shipping firm was also ready to take Mr.
Marchmont's son, but Leslie, again devoured
with anxiety for his father's well-being, found
that the clerks in shipping offices had often very
late hours, and occasionally had to work all
night, and he vetoed shipping with much firm-
ness. Short-sighted and unsympathetic masters
might call him a slacker, but Leslie had a will
of his own, and could put down his foot on a
just occasion.
An office was at last secured which did not re-
quire Leslie to leave his father's side till g A. M.
and allowed him to be again at the post of filial
duty before 6 P. M., and Leslie flung himself
into the profession of accountant with consum-
ing zeal. "Father," he said, with a touch of
moisture in his eyes, "I never want to be rich,
for that brings no happiness; but I should like
to earn an honorable position for your sake,"
which greatly cheered our good Nathanael, who
io8
Nathanael
recognized in the son the high spirit of his
mother.
When Mr. Marchmont inquired of the firm
whether Leslie was giving them satisfaction, he
received guarded answers, and was again
haunted by the fear that hard-headed men of
figures, who were constantly dealing with difficult
accounts and clearing up the affairs of bankrupt
firms, might be too matter-of-fact and too pro-
saic to appreciate a lad of feeling. Leslie made
no complaint, and answered his father bravely
when he asked him whether he was comfortable.
He spoke rather as one who had his cross to
carry, but concealed its weight.
When the senior partner of the firm died — a
magnate who did not know Leslie by name and
who had never spoken to him during his nine
months' service — the lad, a creature of senti-
ment, was so overcome by grief that he declared
himself unable to resume work in that office.
"It was so sudden, father, and so sad. I
know it is foolish of me, but I shall not be able
to get rid of the memory. Of course I could go
on with my work, but I would not be able to do
109
St. Jude's
it to my satisfaction, and I cannot bear the idea,
for my own sake or yours, father, of half-done
work."
His father accepted this as another of the
disabilities of a sensitive disposition, "Really, I
do not know how he will be able to face life in
this rough world ; it would not do were there
many like him ; but if there were not a few ten-
der hearts, life would not be worth living. It is
not from me, but from his mother, he inherits his
tenderness and sympathy."
After this aflFecting episode it was understood
among Mr. Marchmont's friends that Leslie's
health had weakened, and that his condition was
a cause of anxiety. Neither his appetite nor his
face suggested any kind of danger, but the
ailments of the nervous system are subtle. His
father was afraid that Leslie had begun to brood,
and laid himself out to cheer his cast-down son
by various little diversions. "If his mother only
had been spared it would have been different,"
said dear Nathanael, "for he is a real mother's
boy."
Finally, after consultation with his friends.
Nathanael
who, I am afraid, gave no encouragement to the
idea, but rather treated it with veiled derision,
his father took LesHe for a trip to the East, and
came home in high spirits because his stricken
son had at last thrown off the effect of his chief's
death, and was recovering his natural tone.
Leslie, however, showed no devouring desire to
resume business in any department and, we were
given to understand, was going to devote him-
self entirely to the care of his father.
Faithful friends hinted to Mr. Marchmont
that this was not the best training for his son's
character, and perhaps was not the wisest course
for himself; but words were useless with that
dear man, who only shook his head with expres-
sions of gratitude for our interest, and assured
us that, while what we said applied to the aver-
age lad with much force, Leslie was in a class by
himself. No one would have hurt Nathanael's
feelings for a king's ransom, and so, with the re-
serve of a cruel kindness, his friends looked on
while the father thanked God for so tender-
hearted and refined a son, and the son pranced
round the city dressed in the latest fashion of
III
St. Jude's
tie, waistcoat, handkerchief and cane, lunching
at the best restaurants, faithfully visiting every
cricket and football match, traveling first-class
on his railway journeys and generally enjoying
every luxury.
Carmichael was just discussing with himself
whether he should pluck up courage and shake
Marchmont's little paradise about his ears, even
at the cost of wounding both Nathanael and
himself, when things took a new turn. Nathan-
ael called one morning and informed the minister
with the utmost joy that Leslie proposed to
make a surprising departure.
"You must understand, Mr. Carmichael," ex-
plained the father, "that my sainted wife and I
had resolved that, if God was ever pleased to
give us a son, we should dedicate him from the
first, like young Samuel, to the holy ministry ;
and, if she had been spared, it would have been
our joy to guide his mind in that direction, and
the pride of our life to see him an ordained min-
ister of the Kirk. It was not the will of God
to spare my beloved wife, but I have never for-
gotten our spiritual ambition, and I have ever
112
Nathanael
hoped that Leslie's thoughts might turn towards
the Church."
As Carmichael was too much amazed to offer
any remark, Nathanael continued, "This is not a
matter, however, placed in human hands, and
Leslie made no sign that he had ever considered
the ministry. Still, it was very remarkable how
he refused engineering and shipping, and how,
by the hand of Providence, as I now think, he
left the accountant's office, where there would
have been so brilliant a career for him, and
during those last months, has been in such an
anxious and restless condition.
"I felt that there was some meaning in all
this, and I was not quite astonished when the
dear lad told me this morning that, after care-
ful and prayerful consideration, he had come to
the conclusion that he ought to study for the
ministry. He would have told me sooner, but he
very properly wished to be fixed in his own mind
before he took such an important step.
"And now, Mr. Carmichael, as you have often
pleaded most earnestly that young men should
hear this high call, and not be afraid to carry
"3
St. Jude's
this heaviest cross, I felt that I must come at
once and give you this encouraging news. Your
words," concluded Mr. Marchmont with emo-
tion, "have not been in vain, nor my prayers."
As the situation dawned upon Carmichael's re-
ceptive mind, and he imagined Leslie denying in
turn every tempting allurement of worldly gain,
and accepting from the highest motives the call
to the severest profession — as he saw with the
eye of prophecy that austere toiler plucked at
every examination and rated by every professor,
and then, supposing that by some miracle he
reached the length of the ministry, as he beheld
this amazing lad addressing a congregation of
grown-up men and women on the most sacred
things of human experience, the minister was
so much overcome that he was obliged to with-
draw himself from Mr. Marchmont's observa-
tion, and go over to the window to study the
opposite houses.
Nathanael was not surprised at the impression
he had produced, and when their common emo-
tion, although the causes were different, had sub-
sided, they took counsel together about the prac-
n4
Nathanael
tical steps. And it was then Carmichael had an
inspiration. Two things he had quickly resolved
he might not do ; he would neither cut the heart
of this good man by suggesting that his son
was nothing but a vain show, and the last person
in St. Jude's to enter the ministry of the Cruci-
fied, and he would not do anything to assist Les-
lie in his new device and his general uselessness.
The best plan would be to put this genial slacker
through an ordeal which would bring out his
real character and turn his mind very speedily
from the road to the theological hall.
"It is always very encouraging when any
young man considers that he has heard the call
of Christ, and professes himself willing to share
the Master's burden; but, as you know, Mr.
Marchmont, the laborer must be prepared for his
work, and the Scots Kirk trains her ministers
very severely. You spoke a moment ago as if
Leslie could go at once to the university, but I
am not sure that he is fit; of course he has had
a sound school education, and I do not mean
that he has not been a hard worker, but even
a good scholar grows rusty after tv^o or three
"5
St. Jude's
years, especially if he has given his mind to the
work of an accountant.
"What I suggest," Carmichael continued, "is
that Leslie go to a capable coach for six months,
and then we shall see whether he is ready to
enter the university."
And Carmichael had in his mind the very
tutor designed of Providence for the searching
and trying of young Marchmont.
Roderick McCrorie was a tall and powerful
Celt, black-bearded and fierce in expression, who
knew six languages thoroughly, and was under-
stood to be on intimate terms with six other
departments of knowledge. There were few
examinations for which he did not prepare, from
the Militia Army examination to the Indian
Civil Service, and there was no pupil to whom
he did not give his full strength. If the lad was
a worker, then McCrorie exploited him to the
last ounce, and if he were a rotter McCrorie
doubled him up and flung him off in a month.
His own constitution was Bessemer steel, his
pace was tremendous, and his language was sul-
phurous, for he had the advantage of reenforc-
ii6
Nathanael
ing any deficiencies of the milder English from
the resources of the fertile Gaelic. Into Rod-
erick's most capable and quite remorseless hands
Leslie was committed, with a conclusive result
in three weeks' time.
"You will be noticing, Mr. Carmichael," re-
ported McCrorie in the minister's study, "that I
am not denying Leslie Marchmont to be compos
mentis, or affirming that he is in a legal sense
imbecile. But I will give evidence in any place
that he is on the border-land, and that he is
incapable of acquiring anything that may be
called accurate knowledge. There is in him, by
nature, very little mind, and what there is he
will not use, and for me to be taking fees from
his father for teaching a fool is not this man's
way, and for me to be sending such a miserable
creature into any place of learning would be a
disgrace to my name. Maybe you will be telling
his father this in better language, but I am judg-
ing," finished up McCrorie with a grim smile,
"that after a small talk we were having in my
rooms last night, the lad will not be wanting
any more of my instruction."
117
St. Jude's
No complete and trustworthy account of that
final interview between Roderick McCrorie and
Leslie Marchmont has ever been given, but there
is a shrewd idea that, in the glare of the tutor's
uncompromising speech Leslie saw himself for
once, at least, in his natural state, and it is cer-
tain that he refused, in quite distinct terms, ever
to place himself again within McCrorie's reach.
"Of course I do not blame you, Mr. Carmi-
chael, for one moment," said Nathanael, when
this chapter of Leslie's life closed, "for you did
everything for the best, and you could not have
known how unfeeling a man Mr. McCrorie is.
It has been a great blow, both to Leslie and my-
self, but I am glad to say he takes the matter
in the right spirit; he does not repent of his
intention to become a minister, but he sees that
the arduous study which is quite just and proper
would be too much for his strength, and he has
too high a spirit to be an inefficient or unlearned
minister. After a long conversation we both
agree that he must give up this idea ; but, as the
dear lad said himself, 'there are other places
where one may do good than in the pulpit,' and I
ii8
Nathanael
know that he is very keenly interested in var-
ious kinds of social work in the city."
With every year Nathanael grew purer and
gentler, more beneficent and more lovable, and
with every year Leslie became, if possible, more
idle, more useless, more luxurious, and more
self-conceited. When Nathanael died, which
was, for him, Uke passing from the outer court
of heaven into the holy place, his last words
were a blessing upon the most tender and faith-
ful of sons, and a promise that he would tell the
dear departed to whom he hastened of her son's
goodness. And nothing could exceed either the
studied perfection of Leslie's mourning dress
or his graceful and touching display of grief.
He is now living easily upon his father's
means; and when the son meets from time to
time one of Nathanael's friends he will refer,
with excellent taste and a suggestion of emo-
tion, to "my dear father whom you knew so well,
and whose loss to me can never be repaired."
This goes to prove that conspicuous goodness
may be a great gain to the world, and a practical
loss to a man's own family.
119
H Dome0tlc Difference
H Domestic Difference
"Yes, I am in trouble, big black trouble," said
Mrs. Sprott, after the briefest preliminaries.
"I felt I must go to some person, and I thought
it best to come to you ; for you said, you know,
if you could help any person in a strait you
would do it, and I'm sure I'm in one." Mrs.
Sprott broke down openly, and dabbed her eyes
with an absurd little handkerchief, fit only for
a baby, as is the way with women.
Carmichael walked over to the window to
allow his visitor to recover herself, and con-
structed the situation. As he had not been long
married, and continued to the end a lover, he
took the most sympathetic interest in love-
aiTairs and newly-married people. He used to
go and bless each home when it was opened,
and did his best, in an unconventional fashion, to
establish each family on pure love and the fear
of God. Young fellows allowed him to share
their hopes when they were trying to win the
123
St. Jude*s
prize of life, which is love, and girls came to
tell him of their engagement next morning.
He was a vagrant theologian and scattered him-
self over many fields, but his most candid critics
admitted that he had a hold upon the elementary
emotions of humanity. The Sprotts' marriage
had been a surprise to him, although before he
died Carmichael was never astonished at any-
thing in human affairs. James MacCluckie
Sprott — as regards his middle name, he was
called after an eminent father of the Free Kirk,
and he therefore used it with punctilious pride
— was the most proper and one of the most
pedantic men in the whole congregation of St.
Jude^s, and Mrs. Sprott was a good-looking,
gay-hearted, harum-scarum, but perfectly sound
girl, whom he had met on his summer holiday
at a watering-place. Carmichael was puzzled to
know how a girl so unlike the typical Christian
worker which was Sprott's idea of womanhood,
could ever have captivated such a staid and
judicious person, and how so bright and win-
some a creature could ever have been attracted
by such a worthy prig as the good Sprott. The
134
A Domestic Difference
laws of humanity are constantly uniting sobriety
and gaiety — the girl of impulsive temper with a
man of calm judgment ; but those two young
people were at extremes^ and Carmichael had
often speculated about the interior of their
menage. He also had said to Kate that if he
were a woman he would not have married J.
MacCluckie Sprott for a king's ransom. "But
since you are a man, Jack, what about Mildred
Sprott?" "That, Katherine," said the minister
severely, "is another question, and it is time
you were engaged with your household duties."
"Tell me what is wrong, Mrs. Sprott ; I'm
awfully sorry that you are in trouble, but you
were right to come to me. That is what we
are for. Not baby I hope ; of course not (as
she shook her head and for the moment bright-
ened), that child of yours is immense, the
strongest and happiest youngster I ever saw,
and I am getting to be a judge of babies. And
your people all well? That's good. One gets
anxious about the old home when it's far away.
It can't be your husband, for I saw him last
evening at the meeting of the workers' asso-
125
St. Jude's
ciation, and he was in splendid form, moving
resolutions, and raising points of order, in fact,
enjoying himself to his heart's content."
"But it is just him I've come about," replied
Mrs. Sprott. "Of course he enjoyed himself
last evening, and he told me as usual v^^hen he
came home all the things he had said and done,
and how many mistakes he had corrected, and
how he was right and everybody was wrong.
But I don't care a button about his committees,
and his wretched little arguments ; it's what he
does at home that worries me. It was bad
enough at the beginning, but he's growing worse
every week, and — and I can't stand it any longer.
So before I do anything rash I came to consult
you. No, certainly not," continued Mrs. Sprott,
"there's nothing wrong in James's conduct;
there never was such a correct man born since
— Enoch or some other of those Old Testament
characters. I only wish to goodness he had
once done something that he shouldn't, or made
a mistake. I don't mean that really, but you
understand ; he wouldn't have been so fearfully
right, and all the world so fearfully wrong. You
196
A Domestic Difference
have no idea, Mr. Carmichael, what a mad-
deningly regular man he is. He rises at seven
exactly, waiting till the hall clock strikes, and
he has family worship at seven forty-five — what
an hour, just like Bradshaw — and of course the
servants are fearfully sick, and when people are
staying with us they are never in time, and then
James makes that a grievance. He leaves for
the office exactly at eight thirty. If the dinner
is two minutes late he talks about it for days ;
the lights downstairs are put out at ten, unless
he's kept late moving resolutions somewhere.
The old newspapers are kept in what he calls
'files for reference,' and if he sees any of my
silk lying loose in the drawing-room he says it's
untidy; he puts every book back in its place
after reading, and he is always setting the time-
pieces at the correct time ; and he's got three
different top-coats for different temperatures,
and he's always correcting your grammar and
telling you to say 'he' instead of 'him,' and it's
got upon my nerves.
"Now, don't laugh at me, Mr. Carmichael,
and don't speak, for I'm not done ; if that were
127
St. Jude's
all I wouldn't come bothering you, for of course
nobody's perfect — do you know I've got some
faults myself?" and Mrs. Sprott smiled bewitch-
ingly. "But James carries what he's pleased
to call — he has a perfect stock of this kind of
language — 'the principle of order' into the house
affairs. He says that everything should be paid
for when it's bought, except food, and that
should be settled every week. And goodness
knows I've no objection to that, I think it's
quite right, for you know where you are then,
don't you? It's the way he does it which irri-
tates me. On Saturday morning he sits down
at the table in a little room he calls his study,
and I have to bring him the house books for
the week, then he adds them up, and gives me
money to pay them ; but, just fancy, he will go
ranging up and down the books to find what the
different pieces of meat cost, why we had more
cabbages one week than another. To hear him
on the price of tea is enough to make you sick ;
he has recently found out a kind at is. ii^d.
if you take a quantity. It's Indian tea, and I'm
sure it will make us ill, and I tell him it's far
128
A Domestic Difference
better to have China tea — don't you think so
yourself? China tea has a better flavor."
Carmichael explained briefly that he didn't
know one tea from another, but in loyalty to
Mrs. Sprott he was willing to believe that if a
person took Indian tea in preference to Chinese,
his palate must be beyond contempt, and even
his sanity was not beyond question ; Carmichael
suggested, however, that she should go on with
her story.
"Where was I ?" exclaimed Mrs. Sprott. "Oh,
yes, I know, about the special bills. Well, he
gives me so much money one Saturday to do
for the next week, as I have to pay them at the
time, then I have to show the bills and the
money I have over, and he strikes what he calls
a balance," and Mrs. Sprott mentioned the
word balance with keen disHke. "You may
guess," and Mrs. Sprott looked confidently at
the minister, "that the money is always wrong.
Sometimes it's only a shilling or two, but last
week it was nearly a pound, and I'm sure I don't
know what happened to it. There's something
called discount, he says I ought to get, but you
129
St. Jude's
know when the tradespeople don't offer it, how
am I to knovv'? Don't you think they're rather
tricky? I do, and I'm sure they don't always
give me the right change. Sometimes, too, I
buy things in passing, fruit, you know, or maybe
a pair of gloves, and I forget to put them down,
so the whole account is wrong. We get to
wrangling; James tells me that I have no head,
and that my mother ought to have taught me
domestic economy. Then I get cross — I have
a wee bit of a temper, and I told him last week
that he should have married a bookkeeper from
a dry goods store, which of course was rather
horrid ; but if you only knew how aggravating
he is, sitting at that table, with those beastly
accounts in front of him, and little piles of
money! I could sweep them all on the floor
with my hand.
"I am afraid, Mr. Carmichael, all this is bor-
ing you, but there is something I must tell you,
or else you won't understand what I am going
through. Within the last month or two James
has begun to meddle with the servants, because
he has got a craze that they are wasteful. He
130
A Domestic Difference
was lecturing the housemaid upon the proper
use of soap, and said it must always be old,
for new soap was extravagant. He wanted to
have the quantity that was given to her every
month — for the bedrooms, you know, and
things — written down in a book. How he can
tell about soap, I don't know ; he seems to have
studied everything under the sun, especially the
things no self-respecting man should know any-
thing about. That wouldn't have mattered
much, for the housemaid is a good-natured girl,
and I'm quite sure just laughs at him when he
lectures on soap. But what did he do last
week! just fancy, he went down to the kitchen
and questioned the cook, whom I'm afraid of,
I tell you quite frankly, what she did with the
dripping, and how much coals the kitchen range
burned in a week. You will not believe me, I
am sure, but he wants the cook to weigh the
coals for the fire, that he may know what the
cost of cooking the food is. Of course she was
simply frantic, and when he was leaving the
kitchen she pinned a small dishcloth to his coat-
tail, and he came into the drawing-room with
131
St. Jude's
it on. That is how I found out where he had
been, for I thought he was in the study getting
ready resolutions for you and those poor visitor
people. Besides, the cook gave notice next morn-
ing, and said she would never stay in any house
where the master didn't know his own place.
She declared also — and I couldn't help laugh-
ing, though it's really no fun for me — that she
would rather be a negro slave than weigh the
coals in a pair of scales, and that no Christian
man should ask such a thing of any woman."
Carmichael was so edified by this amazing
illustration of MacCluckie Sprott's thorough-
ness in detail and genius for meddling, that he
did not feel himself able to offer any remark
at this stage. And the indignant young wife
swept on to her conclusion.
"You can't imagine what I feel, and how I'm
fretted every day. Why, I've been hours and
hours trying to make the money and the ac-
counts fit. One day I took the horrid book and
threw it into the lire, I was so angry with it;
you would think I was a fool because I can't
add figures, and one day he spoke as if I weren't
132
A Domestic Difference
honest. Perhaps I'm a silly, but my patience
is gone. What I feel is that I'm not a wife,
but just a housekeeper, and not a very good one,
according to him, at that ; so I've written a let-
ter to father telling him that I'm coming home.
I don't mean quite separation, you know, but
just for a little while, to see whether that will
bring James to his senses, and get him out of
those disgusting ways of balances and 'princi-
ples of order' and all the other nonsense. I
know that one should never tell outside what
happens in a home, for I heard you say that at
a marriage service, but then one may go to a
minister, and I thought I would take your ad-
vice before I sent away the letter."
"You were quite right, Mrs. Sprott, to come
to me in the circumstances," said Carmichael
gravely, for he saw how deeply the poor girl
had been wounded, and how keen was her hu-
miliation, "and I'm very glad you did so, for
you must on no account post that letter. Un-
less in the most desperate circumstances — and
yours are not quite that, you know — a wife must
not let any one come in between her husband and
133
St. Jude's
herself. You may be sure I'm not going to
meddle, but I would like to comfort you as
much as possible, and you know, I hope, with-
out my saying it that I quite sympathize with you
in this queer trial you are passing through.
Still, things might be worse. Just let us see, and
imagine, Mrs. Sprott, that you are answering
questions out of a catechism. Your husband
always does provide enough money, and you
have never any fear, as some young wives have,
that they cannot make ends meet, and that some
day they may have to leave their pretty little
home."
"There's no fear of that with James; he's the
most saving and careful creature you could
find in the whole city. He told me only last
week that he had invested some money for baby
— just imagine, the little man is a shareholder,
if that's what you call it, in the something-or-
other railway, I can't remember what."
"Quite so, and your husband is not a lazy
man who pays no attention to his business, and
I don't think, so far as I can hear, that he has
many bad habits."
134
A Domestic Difference
"I should think not; why James is fit to be
a minister, Hke that dreadful man MacCluckie
that started his name. I'll give my word that
there's not a better living man in the whole city,
and as for work, why I can hardly get him to
take a holiday ; he says he must get his business
established, so that baby and me — oh, bother, I
should have said I — may be quite safe if — I
hate to hear him talk like this — anything hap-
pened to him."
"That is very satisfactory. And is his temper
very hasty, and does he fly out at you occa-
sionally? Pardon me, this is a catechism, you
know."
"Temper, I never knew a man have so little
or have such a hold of himself; he vexes me
about the accounts, as I told you, and by all
that wretched exactness, and by his little lec-
tures, but he has never said one really cross
word to me. He's just splendid that way, and
when there's any little thing goes wrong, like
pipes bursting or bother about your carriage
going to the seaside, he's most managing. I've
got the temper, you know, and I may tell you
135
St. Jude's
that when I'm in a wax he's gentleness itself."
"The only other thing that occurs to me to
ask is this, does he forget your marriage day
or your birthday ? Would he bring home some-
thing for such occasions?" And as he asked
this question Carmichael had the air of a man
who had heard things.
"How curious you should ask that, for though
James is so dead against extravagance, and is
always preaching that they who go slowly go
surely — that's one of his sayings, you know —
he gave me a pair of the divinest brushes v/ith
silver backs, real silver, you know, and art fig-
ures, for my birthday, and a perfect duck of a
ring to commemorate our marriage day. And
he said, — ^but I'm not going to tell that to any-
body," And it was plain that Mrs. Sprott was
smoothing her ruffled plumes.
"Well, Mrs. Sprott, instead of putting the let-
ter in the post-office, and making two homes
miserable, and instead of you going back to
your father, and wishing you hadn't done so
as soon as you had left the station, you will just
give me the letter. That it? So. Now, we'll
136
A Domestic Difference
watch it burn, and there it has all ended in
smoke. You are very much in love with your
husband, who is only a man like the rest of us,
and has his failings. But you know he will
never disgrace you, he will always keep a
good roof above your head, he will compass
you with attention, and you will be proud of
much work which he does for the good of his
fellow-men. Mrs. Sprott, I venture to suggest
that you give him a very warm welcome when
he comes home to-night, and that you tell hini
next Saturday that you are simply going to
work like a tiger at those accounts, and that,
as he's a good business man, you are going to
ask him to help you."
"What an impossible and howling ass Mac-
Cluckie is, to be sure," said Carmichael to him-
self when Mrs. Sprott had departed, "and yet
he's a decent and well-meaning ass. And not
an ass in business either, or in morals. She's
a delightful girl, although I dare say she's a
trifle disappointing with the household books,
but she has plenty of sense and a sound stock
of pride. Suppose" — Carmichael concluded his
137
St. Jude's
soliloquy — "we try an experiment." And so he
wrote a note to Sprott asking him to call on his
way home, as he wished to speak to him about
church affairs.
"Much obliged to you for looking in, and
saving me a walk out to your house, though it's
an immense temptation, I may tell you, to have
half an hour's talk with your wife. If I may
be allowed to say so, she is one of the brightest
and most charming girls that I know, and I am
certain every person has the same opinion. It
must be pleasant for you to hear, as no doubt
you do, so many nice things said about her, but
that wasn't what I was going to talk about. It
was about the motion you have tabled for Mon-
day evening, which I am afraid will cause some
division in the committee."
"Very likely it will, Mr, Carmichael; but I
was looking over several books of order last
night, and I am quite confirmed in my opinion
that mine is the only course in keeping with the
law of the Kirk, and, as I am prepared also to
argue, with the rules of business. But before
we go into that matter allow me to express my
138
A Domestic Difference
appreciation of the remarks you were good
enough to make regarding Mrs. Sprott. She is
— though it may not become me to say so — all
that you have mentioned, and her disposition is
as excellent as her appearance is — well, agree-
able."
"Agreeable ! why she's lovely ! You have a
jolly home, in fact, Sprott, and if you knew
the miser)' inside some famihes where the wife
and husband don't pull together, you would
thank God even more than you do for such a
blessing as he gave you in your wife and that
baby, who is just A i."
"Yes," replied Mr. Sprott, "we are very
happy, and I trust that I am grateful ; of course,
as an old divine says, there's a crook in every
lock, and if we hadn't some little trial we should
have no discipline for our souls. You are not
to understand that there is anything seriously
wrong in our family life, but it is curious you
should have touched on the matter; there is
just a very sHght difference, which I should like
to speak to you about. You will of course
regard this communication as absolutely confi-
139
St. Jude's
dential, for I am certain that Mrs. Sprott would
be most indignant if she knew that I had men-
tioned it ; it's the last thing that she would do
herself." And when Carmichael indicated that
he was a deep well into which every word sank
and disappeared out of sight and recall, Mac-
Cluckie Sprott pursued his measured course.
"It would be unpardonable to occupy your
time with details, but I may say in a word that
in my weekly revisal of household accounts I
have found Mrs. Sprott occasionally more than
slightly inaccurate, and also sometimes very un-
willing to enter into my methods of domestic
management. Nor has she always supported
me as I expected her to do when I was giving
the servants some directions, in their particular
departments, which I judged wise and useful.
As regards petty cash, Mrs. Sprott does not
know what it means."
"Gracious goodness," cried Carmichael — he
ought not to have used such expressions, but he
was far too much of a layman — springing to his
feet and looking with really unfeigned amaze-
ment at Sprott's formal figure and self-sufficient
140
A Domestic Difference
countenance, "do you mean to tell me that you
bother yourself with the house accounts, and
that you instruct the servants in their duties?
James MacCluckie Sprott, you're not a man,
you're a marvel, the like of you could not be
found in the city. A man who can do such
things could command the British Navy, or
square the circle. Do you know I should like
to shake hands with you, but I do not feel I am
worthy.
"Joking!" continued Carmichael, for Sprott
was regarding him with great amazement, "do
you imagine I would jest on a subject so seri-
ous ? Honestly, I am lost in admiration of your
capacity. One understands how you can put
our committees right if you can manage your
cook and keep the household accounts."
"But what do you — do?" stammered Sprott,
whose world seemed to be breaking up. "I
don't mean you personally, Mr. Carmichael, but
the heads of households generally."
"What do I do," Carmichael cried in huge
delight, "oh, I'll tell you that without hesitation,
exactly what every other sensible man does,
141
St. Jude's
unless he's a genius, of course. As soon as we
came home from our marriage tour, which was
ten days and not very far, my wife and I came
to an agreement about the division of labor. I
was to attend to the Church and she was to look
after the home. I was to provide the money
and she was to spend it. We established a
bank account, and I paid in everything into it,
she draws out what is needed and pays all the
accounts ; it's as simple as day ; all great inven-
tions are, like the screw, you know. I've never
given a thought to money since I was married,
the only bother is when my wife forgets to
give me money for the car, and I have to pay in
postage stamps; and one day I had to go out
to the country to see a sick person, and as I
had only ninepence the railway clerk took my
watch-chain for a pledge. There will always be
some little inconveniences, you know, Sprott,
with every scheme. Petty cash! It's I who
get the petty cash, but I render no account, just
go and ask for more." And at the sight of
Sprott, who was now speechless, and at the
thought of that extremely exact and punctilious
142
A Domestic Difference
person getting his few pennies for the day, and
otherwise leaving his worldly substance in the
hands of Mrs. Sprott, Carmichael chuckled
aloud.
"Look here, Mr. Sprott, speaking quite seri-
ously, that is what I do. But every man has
his own way, and this is what I would recom-
mend to you, just for an experiment. Give your
wife a generous monthly allowance — generous,
mark you, and put her on her mettle to work
the house economically, and then see how it
comes out at the end of three months. It will
do her a jolly lot of good to have the respon-
sibility and it will save you ever so much worry.
That's my advice as an aged married person,
just approaching his golden wedding, or, to
speak quite truthfully, who has found two years'
married life on this principle a tremendous suc-
cess."
MacCluckie Sprott gave no promise, but he
left considerably impressed, and Carmichael at
odd moments wondered what had happened, and
then was beginning to forget the incident, when
Mrs. Sprott one morning burst into his study
143
St. Jude's
overflowing with delight and self-satisfaction.
"Do you remember, Mr. Carmichael, when I
called upon you one morning, and filled this
study with my cowardly clamor about the cook
and the petty cash, and threatened to do all
kinds of horrid things if James interfered any
more with the accounts? I dare say you have
forgotten all about it, but I haven't, and I've
always been rather ashamed of bothering you,
and telling secrets ; but I want to let you know
that everything is quite changed now in the
domestic economy and petty cash department,
and I've scored a rattling success. You really
want to know about it ? Well, that's very good-
natured of you, and here's the whole story of
the transformation scene in six words, or as
near to six as a woman ever gets. Three months
ago exactly last Saturday, when I went into the
study after breakfast, and was sicker than I had
ever been in my life, for I knew there were half-
a-dozen mistakes at least, James hardly looked
at the accounts, and then told me he was going
to leave the whole management of the house
in my hands, and pay so much money into the
144
A Domestic Difference
bank in my name, and that I was to manage it
as carefully as possible, and let him see at the
end how much I'd saved. Mr. Carmichael, I
declare I almost fainted; and when he said he
would help me any time I wanted to add up fig-
ures, but that he wasn't going to ask any ques-
tions,, and that he believed I would turn out an
A I housekeeper, I confess to you I simply
romped round that old study. Of course I
kissed him, and he looked quite another man
going down the street, gay and jaunty, you
know."
"Well?" said Carmichael.
"The three months are up; Jim says he was
never better fed in all his life; the cook stayed
on after all, for she's a good sort if she isn't
ragged; and guess how much I have over?
Can't you? Eleven pounds fifteen and sixpence
ha'penny. I'm awfully proud of that halfpenny.
You never saw any man so pleased as Jim
looked when he knew that all the accounts were
paid and saw the bankbook. And he is good;
he has ordered me to spend that eleven pounds
on anything I like for myself, and I am going
H5
St. Jude's
to have such a dream of a frock, pink silk with
gauze over, and lace besides other things, all
in remembrance of my first real housekeeping.
Life is so different and Jim is ever so much
nicer, doesn't talk about principles at all, and
hardly ever argues.
"I wonder," said Mrs. Sprott, catching a
gleam in Carmichael's eye, "no, I am sure you
didn't break confidence; but you may have
spoken to him on your own account. I am cer-
tain that you did. Oh, you are a dear. You
can't imagine how happy you have made two
people. If you were an old minister with white
hair, do you know what I would do? I would
come over and give you a real good hug." And
Mrs. Sprott went off with a high heart to buy
that frock.
146
H TRuIer in Herael
a "Ruler in Israel
During his first month at St. Jude's Car-
michael lived in a whirl of unaccustomed cir-
cumstances and strange names, but out of this
phantasmagoria, Mrs. Grimond emerged at in-
tervals and laid hold of his mind. He had a
clear remembrance of a fresh and masterful old
face at the social meeting, when he was intro-
duced to the congregation, and never a day
passed but she was again introduced to him in
conversation. People were sealed for approval
because Mrs. Grimond had a great idea of them,
and others were regarded as doubtful some-
where because she did not care for them; a
minister was declared to be a good preacher
upon her distinct judgment, and another might
be a good man, but he could not boast of pulpit
gifts, for she had dubbed him a "haverin' body."
Any scheme in the Church had omens of success
if Mrs. Grimond thought it w'ise, but its history
was going to be one of hardship if, in her frank
149
St. Jude's
opinion, it was "pairfect nonsense." The elders
themselves, with all their authority of ordination
and dignity of office, could not be indifferent to
Mrs. Grimond, and it was whispered that
shrewd sayings of hers were quoted in high
places, and influenced the decisions of the Ses-
sion.
When Carmichael confessed that he had
not yet called on this elect lady, the other man
was amazed at his delay, and suggested an im-
mediate visit as one of the measures of prac-
tical wisdom in Hfe ; he also indicated that until
the minister met this particular parishioner he
had not begun to know his parish, and that if he
wished to do well by himself and St. Jude's
he had better put himself quickly and modestly
under her guidance. Various imperative duties
hindered him from this privilege and honor, and
when at last he came to the door of her house
he had the feeling of waiting upon a queen, and
was quite convinced that the wisdom and energy
of the elders and the deacons, the Sunday-school
teachers and the district visitors, and all the
congregation had for some inscrutable purpose
150
A Ruler in Israel
of PfOviderice been gathered up and centred in
the person of Mistress Jean Grimond.
Certainly his first impression was deepened
when he saw this honorable woman in her chair
of state, for she never received any person ex-
cept when seated on the throne. In the fore-
noon she was dressed in some soft gray ma-
terial, touched here and there with pink. She
wore a fleecy white shawl, and her cap was a
fine compromise between grace and majesty;
there was also in it an arrangement of white
and pink. Although the oldest woman Car-
michael had met, even with his vast experience
of the countr}', Mrs. Grimond was as erect as
an ash-tree, and rarely condescended to lean
back in her chair when visitors were present;
her complexion was clear and fresh, and neither
her cheeks nor her brow had a single wrinkle.
But the dominating feature was her eyes, which
were a full blue of the shade of the sky, and
they were charged with a fearful insight. They
seized you in a moment, as a naturalist might
take up a strange animal; they examined you
up and down and through and through; they
151
!5t. Jude*s
settled what you were and what you could do;
they understood what you intended apart from
what you said ; and they anticipated your
thoughts before you had uttered them. Before
those eyes, as before a flame of fire, hypocrisy,
affectation, foolishness and sentimentality shriv-
eled up and were consumed. If you were to
withstand them you required a man's courage,
and you were not likely to escape unscathed ;
if you tried in any way to deceive them, you
were certain to be worsted and you would never
recover the exposure. Whether in days past
they had ever melted through love or sorrow,
no one knew; no one now saw them weaken
or fail; through her long life this indomitable
woman had fought her battle without flinch-
ing, and without complaining, dominating cir-
cumstances and compelling men and women to
be her servants. Without fear and without
gentleness; without illusions and without con-
ventions ; without any knowledge of sickness
or of other weakness ; handsome still in her old
age, and imperious through her gifts of mind
and body, she was the strongest woman one
i5»
A Ruler in Israel
could meet in a month's journey, or for that
matter, perhaps, in a hfetime. After Carmichael
had paid his respects, and he almost felt as
if he should kneel and kiss her hand, she gra-
ciously invited him to take a chair, which was
so placed that she could embrace him with her
eyes, and Carmichael had no doubt that when
the interview was over he would depart either
justified or condemned.
"You are welcome, Mr, Carmichael, and I
hope that we shall be good friends ; I can maybe
help you in your work at St. Jude's, for there
is Httle I do not know, and I shall be glad to
have your services from time to time through
the winter months when I am prevented from
going to kirk. I was expecting you to have
called before, for I dare say you have heard
my name, but I expect you were well employed."
And Carmichael murmured that he had been
trying to get hold of the situation and had been
visiting the office-bearers and leading workers
of the Church.
"That was pairfectly judicious," said Mistress
Grimond, "for ye have to work with them, and
153
St. Jude's
ye must understand your tools. Some of them
are able men and have done well for themselves
in the city, but have no more religion than a
jackdaw; some have plenty of religion and can
pray by the yard, but their brains are porridge ;
there is a select few who have both sense
and religion ; pay attention to what they say.
There are men who will tell you that there's
never been a preacher in Glasgow like you,
and compare you to the apostle Paul; thank
them and laugh in your sleeve ; there are men
who will object to everything you say from the
beginning, and call ye every kind of heretic ;
tell them that ye're very sorry, and just say the
same things next Sabbath. But if ye come
across a man of discernment and he gives you
a hint, lay it past for your consideration." As
Carmichael was now listening most respectfully,
Mrs. Grimond, with a quick glance at him to
be sure that the seed was falling into honest
soil, continued her advice,
"Consult the elders about everything, and
tell them all your plans ; some of them are wise
— I know three at any rate ; others are little bet-
154
A Ruler in Israel
ter than fools, but they're harmless ; one or two
are just half and between. But they are the
ordained elders of the Kirk, and they should
be respeckit, besides," said Mrs. Grimond, with
a shrewd gleam in her eyes ; "if you take them
with you in anything, the congregation can't
oppose, and if it turns out wrong, ye can let
the blame rest on the elders. So far as my ob-
sairvation goes, the best use of elders is to do
any little trokes the minister can put upon them
and to stand up for the minister to the people.
"As regairds the congregation," and Mrs.
Grimond, finding the new minister receptive,
pursued her didactic course, "they are a mixed
multitude, but you will remember they are your
flock, and ye maun do the best by all of them.
There are some families ye will draw to by na-
ture ; take care that you are not too much at
their houses; there are some families ye wilt
hardly be able to bear; see that ye visit them
regularly. Have no favorites, or else ye'll get
into trouble, and in the end they will turn against
you; have no animosities, for they just fret the
mind, and set the heather on fire. You are
155
St. Jude's
young, and you are hasty with a high speerit, I
judge, which rides your reason. For any sake,
keep your tongue within your teeth, and don't
give confidences ; watch every man, and use
every man, and do your duty by every man, but
let no man have any word from you that he can
use against you, nor let any man hold you in
his hand. Get into the saddle as quickly as you
can and sit tight, but ride them without the
curb if ye can, and without the spurs.
"That is all I have to say to you at present,"
concluded her Majesty, "but there may be many
other things afterwards. If there is any man ye
cannot measure, or any plan ye can't see the
drift of, come to me, and I may be wrong, but
I judge that I can help you. There may be one
or two I have my doubts about, but the rest I
can read like print." And Carmichael was will-
ing to admit that in all probability she was right,
and that he would soon be the last book added
to her human library.
"Now," began Mrs. Grimond again, "it's time
I was telling you about myself, for it may be
instructive to hear my history; whether it be
156
A Ruler in Israel
good or bad, there's one thing I'm sure of, it
has been long. I am ninety-five years old this
year 1880, so ye see I was born juist forty years
after the rebellion and four years before the
French Revolution. I've had the advantage of
seeing the turn of the tide, the old days depart
when the kings ruled and the new days come
when the people rule. Everybody cries up
democracy nowadays, but I have my thoughts;
there were bad kings, but I've never heard that
all the people are Solomons ; ye could get rid
of a daft king ; what are you to do with fools of
people. I mind the day when the patrons ap-
pointed the minister, and now they call that
outrageous, so the ministers preach in turns
like horses running a race, and the ploughmen
judge which they like best. But whether the
ploughman be wiser than the laird, it is not
for me to say.
"As regards my own religion, Mr. Carmichael,
I've had advantages which are given to few,
and which have kept me from beegotry. My
grandfather was a Catholic, and the Scots Cath-
olics are a good breed, and my grand-uncle
157
St. Jude's
was a priest ; there were queer doings after the
*45, so my father joined the EstabHshed Kirk.
He married an Episcopalian, for there were a
lot of them about Forfarshire in the Jacobite
days, but she went with him, and I was brought
up in the Kirk, under Dr. McLarty — a douce
and honest man he was, who kept a quiet sough
in troubled days and gave no oflfense to any
person. For myself, I married young and we
went to the old Kirk, till the disruption in 1843.
What good that did I pass no opinion, for ye're
a Free Kirk minister, and I'm a Free Kirk
member. My husband was carried away by Dr.
Chalmers, so he joined the Free Kirk, and as
I was always an obedient wife" — and the ex-
pression on Mrs. Grimond's face at this point
was wonderful to behold — "I went with him,
and I made no change after his death, which I
always consider was hastened by the Disruption.
"He was a well-doing man," and the widow
spoke of the long ago deceased with calm de-
tachment, "and had a good name. We had no
words during our married life, for he did his
work outside and I did mine inside, and I'll not
158
A Ruler in Israel
deny that he deferred very frequently to my
judgment. I always considered that he had the
root of the matter in him, and I'll say this for
him, he always conduckit family worship once a
day on week days and twice on Sabbath. I
said to him it was his duty, and he did it. It
would be nonsense to say that Grimond was
what they call among the Cameronians and the
Seceders and such like an exercised Christian,
for he would have made a poor show with
Simeon MacQuittrick, and that little nest of
self-satisfied and meddling bodies which sit in
judgment on St. Jude's. MacQuittrick is a cat-
witted and cantankerous creature, who sees
neither to the right hand nor to the left, and
will walk in a road two feet broad till he breaks
his neck in an argument over a precipice.
"By the way, Mr. Carmichael, Simeon and
his friends may come buzzing round you, find-
ing fault with your best sermons and asking
questions no man can answer; give them no
more mercy than you would to wasps ; they
make no honey, and they are best pleased when
they are stinging; to hear them speak you would
159
St. Jude's
think that no person was ever right in Scotland
except a handful of Covenanters. When your
blood is mixed and ye mind the saints in all the
Kirks, ye're not willing to be shut up in a wasp's
bike for your religion. Simeon came to visit me
once; I said I would be glad to see him again,
but he has not returned; I believe he calls me
Jezebel." And Mrs. Grimond seemed much re-
freshed by this compliment of Simeon's.
While this remarkable woman was always
willing to receive the minister, and while she
gave him an enormous amount of shrewd ad-
vice, she always demanded a professional re-
payment. When she had answered his questions
and he had satisfied her demands, her Majesty
then composed herself suddenly in her chair
for religious exercises. Leaning back in the
slightest degree and veiling the keenness of her
eyes with an expression of solemnity, she would
fold her hands upon her lap, and address Car-
michael in an artificially softened tone, "Now
that is enough of worldly conversation for to-
day ; say some good words to me, and con-
clude with prayer; I also expect the Lord's
1 60
A Ruler in Israel
Prayer and the benediction." An awful silence
followed, and Carmichael used to tell his wife
that he never conducted a private service with
such restraint and difficulty. Mrs. Grimond ex-
pected an exposition of Scripture or an exhor-
tation on duty — she did not care which — and
one of her conditions was that it should last at
least ten minutes ; if Carmichael stopped short
of that time, which she seemed to know by in-
stinct, he would hear her murmur, "More good
words, if you please, sir, I don't like short meas-
ure." He was also aware that behind this be-
coming mask of reverence her keen intellect
was weighing every word he said, and her cyni-
cal humor playing around him ; that any want
of connection in his little address or anything
like sentiment in his prayer would be instantly
detected and despised. The highest praise he
could hope for was, "Very clear and appropri-
ate," and she might perhaps add, "I canna bear
thae ministers whose expositions are a rimble-
ramble of disconnected texts, and who go wan-
dering in their prayers through all the countries
o' the world. 'We pray for London, we pray
i6i
St. Jude's
for Paris, we pray for Rome/ havers like that
because the man doesn't know what to pray for.
'Lord give us power,' one of them said, 'give us
power, give us more power;' what he wanted
was ideas, and yet he would forget to pray for
the king." When Caimichael suspected that he
had fallen into a mood of heated and unhealthy
sentiment, he found no better cure than to place
himself under the cold spray of Mrs. Grimond's
remorseless criticism, but there were times when
he could have wished that her keen intellect
had been softened by the gentler emotions.
Her family, which consisted of a widowed
daughter approaching seventy years of age, and
her daughters, who were not in their first
youth, would not have complained if Mrs. Gri-
mond's hand had been lighter, and the house-
hold regime had been more touched by senti-
ment. It was inevitable that they should call her
grannie, but the word, which suggests weakness
and tenderness, was outrageously unsuitable,
for Mrs, Grimond was in every sense of the
word the head of the household. She used to
often explain that her daughter had been a dif-
162
A Ruler in Israel
ficult child to rear, and that she had no claims
to her own admirable constitution ; she was pre-
pared at any time for her removal in what she
would consider comparatively early age, and her
granddaughters she treated as absolute children.
Neither mother nor daughters were allowed a
voice or a share in family affairs. They were
only her messengers and assistants, who received
instructions and carried them out to the best
of their ability, which Mrs. Grimond did more
than hint was extremely limited. "My daughter
takes from her father, who was a very worthy
man ; yes," she would add reflectively, "a worthy
man, and in many ways we were very well suited
to each other." From which you were left to
gather that the late Mr. Grimond had not been
endowed with opulence of mind, and that his
wife had guided him through the affairs of life.
"I have every respect for his memory," she
would sometimes say, "and I have no complaint
of my married life ; there are women who need
a protector, and I judge no widow who marries
again, but I have seen no reason to change my
estate." No one could help admiring her admir-
163
St. Jude's
able courage and practical capacity, but one
was bound to sympathize with her family, who
were reduced to the condition of nonentities
under her shadow. She retained the keys of
the household down to the most insignificant
in her iron grasp, regarding them as the sceptre
of authority; she arranged every detail of the
household round and ordered every single article
which came into the home ; she sent incisive
messages to the tradespeople, and overlooked
the servants with an unfailing eye. The little
world of the home had its centre in that arm-
chair, and before its occupant every one trem-
bled ; nothing went on she did not know, and
nothing was allowed she did not approve. While
it was a great grief to her that she did not
arrange the servants' dresses, she dictated to
her own belongings what they should wear, and
would infallibly detect the smallest independence
of personal taste.
Jupiter himself is said occasionally to nod,
and Mrs. Grimond had one sign of advanced
years. Her eyesight was perfect, and her hand
as steady as ever; her hearing was fearfully
164
A Ruler in Israel
good when anything was being said behind her
back; and she had still a firm step. Her mem-
ory, extending over such a long range, was
amazing in its accuracy, but she sometimes lost
perspective and forgot the lapse of time, imag-
ining persons in the early and later periods of
her life to be contemporaries.
"The minister of the parish in my girlhood" —
and Mrs, Grimond allowed herself the luxury
of reminiscence — "was the Rev. Dr. McLarty.
He was a tall and handsome man, who did not
run about his parish like a bagman selling but-
tons, or a tax-gatherer collecting the poor rate.
Na, na, there were wiselike clergymen in those
days who knew their position and went through
their parishes like lords. His word was law in
his own business. And why not ? Isn't it reason
that if a doctor gives his prescription, and the
people take the medicine, that when a minister
tells them their duty they should do it, without
arguing ?
"He baptized me," continued Mrs. Grimond,
"and he heard me say the Catechism, and he
would speak to me on the road. 'Well, Jean, is
165
St. Jude's
that you ; you are growing a big girl ; do what
the Bible tells you and you'll grow up to be a
good woman, and don't forget your prayers,
lassie.' Then he would take a pinch of snuff
and go on his way with a stately walk that it
was a pleasure to see. I never forgot what he
said, Mr. Carmichael ; that is how I've come to
be what I am." And Mrs. Grimond nodded
with great complacency.
"Aye, and he married me, and that was not
yesterday, for I was just twenty the month be-
fore. It was a very fine ceremony, and he gave
Grimond some very sound advice, which I used
to bring from time to time to his mind. He
told him that he had obtained a most valuable
gift in his wife, and that he must show himself
worthy of her; that he must work hard to pro-
vide a respectable home for her, and that he
would never regret it if he consulted his wife
in everything. No man ever had the marriage
state put better before him than Grimond, and
I'm bound to say that with a little assistance
from me he discharged his duty. Dr. McLarty
was a wise man, and very genial — oh, aye, he
1 66
A Ruler in Israel
could unbend on a proper occasion. After the
service was over he sat down at the breakfast,
and afore a' was done he sang the Xaird o'
Cockpen ;' that was his custom on such occa-
sions, and very pleasant. There's a time to
pray, Mr. Carmichael, and there's a time to sing,
and the old ministers could do both, and they
knew when. But you would know Dr. McLarty
yourself." And this was Mrs. Grimond's lapse.
"He would be about your time, I wouldna say,
but he might be at college with you."
As Dr. McLarty had had the honor of mar-
rying Mrs. Grimond in the year 1805, and was
then a gentleman of about seventy years of age,
and it was now 1880, if Carmichael had been his
college contemporary, the minister of St. Jude's
would have occupied a premier position for lon-
gevity in modem times, and might fairly have
claimed a place with the fathers before the
Flood. When he delicately explained that Dr.
McLarty was somewhat in advance of him, Mrs.
Grimond would awake to the sense of the past
and adroitly change the subject, glancing round
to see whether any one had detected this slip.
167
St. Jude's
Her hand was so heavy and the domestic
world suffered so much from the unceasing
change of servants, who came hopefully and
departed full of indignation at the close of a
month, if indeed they were not dismissed on
an hour's notice by this unrelenting despot, that
the health of her daughter was breaking down,
and Carmichael thought it his duty to intervene.
He was warned that it was taking his life in his
hands, and that notwithstanding all he had seen
of her Majesty and all he had heard from her
lips, he had no idea what she was in the
sacred department of family government, and
with what feelings she regarded an intruder. But
he was young, and had the confidence which is
rich in early years, and departs with a sadder
experience of life ; so he resolved to make the
venture, and he arranged in his own mind a
method of cunning diplomacy.
"Well, Mrs. Grimond," after she had given
him the very opportunity he desired by relating
the last exasperating incident in the kitchen,
"this is very disappointing and worrying, and I
quite agree with you that the servants in the
i68
A Ruler in Israel
city to-day are not what the servants used to be
in the country. But, my dear friend, I would
not vex myself about those girls or about any-
thing else ; you have a devoted and capable
daughter, to say nothing of your grandchildren ;
you have brought them up with great care, and
I know how grateful they are to you. You have
borne the heat and burden of a long day, and
now you are surely entitled to a little rest. If I
were you I would give the whole charge of the
house into their hands, and then you will have
plenty of time to give me the advice I need
about St. Jude's, and to do any kind of little
work which you like."
"Do I understand you clearly, Mr. Car-
michael?" and the minister did not quite like her
accent. "Is it your advice as my clergyman
that I should hand over my keys which I have
held since the day I was married, and which
are lying beside me in this basket, and let this
house be managed by my daughter and those
two young girls? And is it your suggestion that
I should sit here and never know what those
trimmies are doing in the kitchen or how they
169
St. Judc's
are cleaning out the bedrooms? I am sorry to
have to ask you, but I would like to know in
case of any mistake whether that is what you
recommend.
"Quite so, Mr. Carmichael," when Mrs. Gri-
mond had learned the worst, "it certainly was
what you said, but I was hoping that you had
meant something else ; you are my minister and
I have tried to give you such imperfect assist-
ance as was in my power, and maybe I am not
saying too much when I hold that I have helped
you with your work. Perhaps I was expecting
too much, but I regarded you as a friend, and
one who would uphold my just position in all
things according to reason, but I seem to have
been mistaken, and I have received advice I
never looked for from my own minister. It is
you," and Mrs. Grimond let her indignation go ;
"you, a mere laddie born yesterday, and who
knows nothing worth mentioning of life, that
would tell me to condescend from my place and
hand over the reins to those young things who
would send the house to rack and ruin in a
month. And for myself, I suppose you would
170
A Ruler in Israel
wish to see me creeping about the house or lying
in my bed a dodderin' old body whose voice
counts for nothing, and who might as well be
dead. They will get my keys and everything
the keys signify when I am in my coffin, and not
an hour sooner."
"You are a wonderful woman, Mrs. Gri-
mond," said Carmichael, making a strategic re-
treat, "and you were born to be a queen. You
may be sure I will never make any suggestion
about the keys again, but there is one thing I
would like to ask, and that is who made that
most becoming cap which you are wearing?
For I never saw anything suit you better; the
pink of the ribbons and the blossom of your
complexion exactly correspond."
"Do ye think so?" and Mrs. Grimond's tone
was gentle as a dove's. "It's curious you should
ask about the maker of the cap, and I suppose
you're imaginin' that it came from the grand
shops in Buchanan Street. Would you be aston-
ished to know that it never saw the inside of a
shop, and that I made every bit of it with my
own hands? Without spectacles, too, if you
171
St. Jude's
please," and Mrs, Grimond smoothed her
rufifled plumes and looked the picture of satisfac-
tion.
"Without spectacles? If you didn't tell me I
could not believe it, Mrs, Grimond," and the
sin of Carmichael was wiped out, and he de-
parted with the smile of royal favor following
him. "He is young," remarked Mrs. Grimond
to her family afterwards, "and has some fooHsh
ideas, as young people have, but I will not deny
that he has an obsairvin' eye."
172
Zbc power o! tbe Cbtib
trbe ipower of tbe <Ibil&
Among the personalities in St. Jude's Church
was one who stood alone, if he did not stand
out, and who had a place of distinction, if it was
not freely coveted. While he was rich, there
were other men richer; while he was able in
affairs, there were other men abler; while he
was a regular attender at worship there were
others as regular ; while he was perfectly respect-
table in life there were others quite as respec-
table. But by general agreement there was no
one so thoroughly, consistently, perseveringly,
ingeniously mean. He was the hardest man
within the Church, and it would have been diffi-
cult to find his rival within the city. His seat rent
he paid promptly, but refused to take more than
one sitting at the end of a pew, and on one occa-
sion suggested that he ought to receive dis-
count, because he did not take a little credit as
other seatholders through sheer forgetfulness
were apt to do. To the sustentation fund, the
175
St. Jude's
chief effort in St, Jude's, he sent one pound a
year instead of fifty, which was the amount
shrewd financial managers assessed him at, and
when a moving appeal was made to increase the
fund and to raise the salaries throughout the
land on account of the increased rate of living
and the higher scale of wages, Murchieson ad-
mitted the force of the argument and raised
his contribution from one pound to twenty-five
shillings. He declined in opprobrious terms to
give anything to foreign missions, because he
believed that any heathen who became a Chris-
tian did it for what he was to get, and he would
give no countenance to the home mission enter-
prise of St. Jude's, because he argued if work-
ingmen would give up drinking and general
wasting they would be as well off as he was, and
could pay for sittings for themselves. To the
daily collection he gave exactly threepence, at
morning service, and nothing in the afternoon,
and he was known to have changed money on
the road to church upon discovering that the
smallest coin in his purse was a sixpence. His
economy outside church life, through long prac-
176
The Power of the Child
dee and the exercise of an acute intellect,
amounted to genius, and the stories about his
nearness flew from mouth to mouth in the city.
How he would go out of his way and deliver a
note with his own hands to save the penny
stamp. How he would go down to town on the
top of a 'bus and with a stiff neck when the rain
was pouring, to save an extra half-penny for
traveling inside. How he threatened to prose-
cute a mercantile association of which he was a
member, because when it was wound up the
balance was handed over to a hospital — his share
being thirteen shillings and twopence-half-
penny. How he sold the clothes of a deceased
elder brother to a pawnbroker, and how, having
obtained a few geraniums for his little garden
from a generous neighbor, he disposed of them
for a consideration to another neighbor. He be-
came in course of time the model and standard
of parsimony, so that men's faces lit up with
cynical amusement at his appearing, and any
new meanness was instantly assigned to Mur-
chieson. Round him gathered an anecdotage
of shabby inventions and miserly tricks.
177
St. Jude*s
It was exactly the type of character — cold,
calculating, ungenerous, inhuman — which of-
fended and irritated Carmichael beyond every
other; and among other foolish things the min-
ister said, fortunately only in private, this wild
word, that he had more hope of a drunkard
for the kingdom of God than of a miser, and
that he would have been less disgusted if he
had met Murchieson coming home from a Burns'
dinner, singing aloud, than he was when Mur-
chieson objected on a principle of management
to give to the support of the Royal Infirmary.
Murchieson was so much in Carmichael's mind
that he became an offense and an obsession.
Generally he was angry with the old man ; occa-
sionally he was sorry for him ; he was always
helpless with him. From his place at the end
of the pew he stood out from the rest of the
congregation, hard, gray, forbidding, like a jag-
ged rock emerging from the dancing, shining
water, and exercised a paralyzing influence upon
a sensitive preacher. Any argument for liber-
ality was shivered to pieces on that iron front,
and any appeal to sentiment withered before
178
The Power of the Child
that contemptuous eye. Murchieson got upon
the minister's nerves, and threatened to be a
blight upon his speaking, as when a frost nips
the apple-blossom. As often as he used an
illustration of the affections, he caught, as it
were, the old man saying, Balderdash, and as
often as he exalted high ideals he seemed to
hear Murchieson's cynical chuckle. When he
tried to climb Murchieson clutched him with his
lean talon, and pulled him back to the sordid
commonplace, and he dared not give place to the
mystical even for a minute without apologizing
to that champion of realism. Browbeaten by the
tyranny of fact, Carmichael found himself com-
mending Christianity on grounds of profit and
loss, and eulogizing godliness because it con-
duced to thrift and the accumulation of capital.
When Carmichael started his holiday scheme, by
which the children of the city were to get a fort-
night in the country, he offered a private and
cowardly petition in his secret devotions that
Jacob Murchieson should be absent that morn-
ing from church — not seriously ill, but detained
by a cold in his head. It was not answered.
179
St. Jude's
Jacob never had colds, being as impervious to
the weather as he was to emotion, and objected
on principle to all illness, because it lent itself
to doctors' bills and hindered from business. Of
course he was in his place, more visible and
assertive, more unsympathetic and scornful,
more commanding and vigilant than ever. Dur-
ing the Psalm before sermon, Carmichael was
much tossed in his mind, and knew not what
to do. With Murchieson's eye upon the pulpit
like the artillery of a fortress trained upon some
poor trading-vessel, how could one even dare
to mention so unmercantile and unprofitable a
scheme as country holidays for city children,
and what spirit could one have to ask for solid
silver on the basis of such feeble sentiment?
As he spoke he imagined Murchieson's
running commentary, and the points that he
would triumphantly make. Why didn't the par-
ents themselves pay for their children's holi-
days, and what did poor people mean by having
so many children ? He was not a poor man, but
he had never seen his way to marry, and if he
had no time or money to waste on such a lux-
i8o
The Power of the Child
ury, much less had a man on five-and-twenty
shillings a week. If the brats were sent from
home and let loose in the country, they would
get into more mischief even than in the city, and
being beyond control would be certain to do
damage to property. Would not the sight of the
children going for a whole fortnight on holiday
excite vain thoughts in the minds of their par-
ents, and suggest that they should have more
holidays? The next thing would be that work-
ingmen would be wishing to spend a fortnight
in the country, and when that day came national
ruin was not far off. As for himself, he took
New-year's day, and that was more than suffi-
cient, and he always regarded the Bank holidays
as a personal grievance. Would it not be far
better for children to be working, and so learn
habits of industry? Was not all this foolish
nonsense about recreation just a premium upon
laziness ? Why should anybody have holidays ;
wasn't Sabbath enough time for resting? And
why should he have to pay for other people's
holidays when he had to scrape in order to get
his own living — "scraping" was Jacob's favorite
i8i
St. Jude's
description of his business toil ? Had preachers
no knowledge of life, and was the pulpit to be
forever a fountain of washy sentiment and dele-
terious twaddle?
Carmichael already shivered and began to
lose heart as he felt the cold spray of utility
falling on his poor words, and the heat being
frozen out of them. As a man hot in temper and
impatient with meanness, he was tempted to
strike out and denounce the Murchieson type,
so as to secure an emotion of indignation, if he
could not sustain an emotion of compassion. If
he had yielded to this impulse, as too often he
did, the sermon would have been a masterpiece
of sarcasm, tickling the congregation like mus-
tard upon the palate, and hardening Jacob into
adamant, and doing not the slightest good. For-
tunately his mind, lying open to the breath
of God's Spirit, was blown in another di-
rection, and he looked on Murchieson through
the medium of a gentler atmosphere. A feel-
ing of genuine sorrow swept over his mind
for an old man who had come to seventy years
of age and had never known the sweetness of
182
The Power of the Child
love, who was out of touch with children, and a
stranger to kindness, to whom life was nothing
else than a weary grind and purposeless money-
making. The sight of Murchieson that day in-
stead of irritating, gentled Carmichael, and gave
to his speech that accent of compassion which
arrests and conciliates and conquers the most
indifferent hearers. When he unfolded his
scheme for giving a happy time in the country
to poor bairns, and described the result of a
private experiment made the year before, the
congregation was distinctly touched, and if
Carmichael had been asking the money by an
offertory he would suddenly have closed his ser-
mon at a certain point five minutes before the
terminus. When hard-headed, unemotional men
stare fixedly at the roof of the church or fall
victims to a violent cold in the head, before the
preacher's eyes, if there be any practical wisdom
in him, he will fling over two fetching illustra-
tions and the most finished of perorations and
send round the bags. When the tide is at its
height is the time to make for the harbor. It
seemed to him, as he was speaking, that even
183
St. Jude's
Murchieson looked less glacial than usual, and
in the evening he hugged the thought, though
he considered it pure fancy, that Murchieson at
that moment had nearly broken down. It was of
course pure fancy, but pleasant to dwell upon,
like the visions of Utopia or the prophecies of
the millennium.
That master of economy was so much in the
minister's thoughts that he was not absolutely
surprised when Murchieson called on him next
morning, and he was still so affected by his play
of fancy that Carmichael asked his wife, before
going into the study, how much she thought
Jacob would give to the children's holiday fund.
Kate, with more shrewdness than charity, de-
clared her belief that the visitor had come to
remonstrate with the minister on account of this
new fad, which would only pauperize the people,
and her conviction that, if for a wonder he
gave anything, the furthest limit would be two-
and-sixpence. She also freely described him
as a disgitsting old skinflint, and suggested that
her husband should deal with him as he deserved,
and that she would be glad afterwards to hear
184
The Power of the Child
his adjectives. Which was only one out of a
hundred proofs that Kate was not a model wife
for a minister, but that is the story I should
Hke to tell some other day. Carmichael was
still under the glow of yesterday, and in a fit
of enthusiasm assessed Jacob at ten shillings.
"Ye no doubt are aware, Mr. Carmichael,"
began Jacob, with the briefest preliminaries of
courtesy, which he always regarded as a waste
of time, "that I have little sympathy with what
are called missionary and philanthropic schemes.
The one-half of them are got up to pay officials,
who go about the country havering to fifty old
women at a public meeting, and who had better
be earning their living as clerks at two pounds a
week. And the other half exist to keep shiftless
folk in idleness, who are fonder of singing
hymns than working with their hands. When I
think o' the money that's been given to convert
the Jews, I canna help laughing ; it's positively
facetious. I'm told that there's a new society
started by three ministers and seven old maids
to provide spectacles and false teeth for people
out of work. I'm not a subscriber myself, and
185
St. Jude's
when one of the collectors called on me I gave
her my judgment, politely, of course. But that
is neither here nor there, and that is not what
I called about." Carmichael was relieved to hear
that this was not the object of Jacob's visit, but
he was not specially encouraged by the opening.
"Well, ye see," resumed Murchieson, "in
ordinary circumstances, and acting on general
principles, I would not be inclined to look favor-
ably on that holiday proposal, but there are one
or two points I didna dislike, especially the plan
o' the parents giving so much themselves. So I
called to get some information on details, and
if I am satisfied — for I make that condition — I
might not be averse to consider the question of
contributing, say ten shillings."
Carmichael, cheered by this wintry sunshine,
and anxious to approach Jacob upon the more
susceptible side of his mind, plunged into facts
and figures.
"Every child," and Carmichael addressed
Murchieson as if he were a public meeting, "will
be selected six months before the time, and the
pence of the parents will be collected every
1 86
The Power of the Child
week; they will be expected to have the child
clean and decent when the time comes, and
every child will be examined by a doctor. Ladies
in the country will select the homes, and will see
that they are healthy and respectable; they will
also receive the children and supervise them
when they are in the country. The cost of board,
including milk, will be six-and-sixpcnce a week,
which makes thirteen shillings; the railway com-
panies are to give special rates, which will aver-
age one-and-ninepence, and adding threepence
for general expenses, you have fifteen shillings,
which will be the total cost per child for a fort-
night's hoHday." As Carmichael spoke, he
knew that he was clear, but he also felt that he
was not effective and that somehow he was
missing the mark. Murchieson had listened at-
tentively, but did not seem to have been im-
pressed or carried forward; he was willing to
criticise, as a matter of course, but gave Car-
michael the impression that he was waiting for
other arguments.
"Your arrangements seem wiselike ; ye might
possibly get the board in the country reduced to
187
St. Jude's
six shillings, but the danger in that case would
be watering the milk, which is undesirable. If
ye got a large trader to tackle the railway
people I wouldna say but that they would knock
a penny or maybe three ha'pennies off the return
fare. But I reserve judgment on those particu-
lars, and I will hear you to the end." Then it
came to Carmichael, and he counted it an inspir-
ation, like that of yesterday, that he might take
Jacob more successfully by surprise, as a fort-
ress is often captured on its strongest side. So
he threw figures and committees to the wind
and laid out the human side before his visitor.
"Very likely you are right, Mr. Murchieson,
and I will mention any suggestions you give to
the committee, for I am not an adept in busi-
ness affairs. It is the contrast between the slum
of the city and the joy of the country which, I
confess, has touched my heart, for I am a
countryman ; I love its hills and glens, its fields
and flowers, its running burns and hedgerows
with the honeysuckle and the roses in the mid-
dle of the hawthorn. With that vision before
my eyes, and the sweet smell of the country in
i88
The Power of the Child
my nostrils, I go into a court of the city and
I see a child living, or, rather, dying, in a house
of a single room, without air and without sun,
and playing in a dirty court instead of on the
grass, and beside a gutter instead of a stream of
clean water. When they make a toy out of a
tin box, and trail it along the noisome court,
making believe it's a cart, and sail a little stick
in a dirty puddle, I feel that they are children,
too, and that they have never had a chance of
child-life."
For the moment he had forgotten himself and
his environments, but now he started and looked
around, expecting to see a sneer on his visitor's
face, and to be crushed by some contemptuous
reference to the improvidence of the poor. But
Murchieson did not seem inclined to mock or to
argue ; you would have almost said that he was
concerned and touched, if you had seen his face,
while the minister gave his brief etching of child
misery in a city. When Carmichael finished and
turned almost in deprecation, Murchieson waited
to see if he had more to say, and when noth-
ing came, he took up the talking.
189
St. Jude's
"Put mc down for a pound."
There was a decision in the tone and an ex-
pression on the face which arrested and en-
couraged Carmichael. Perhaps it was spring-
time for Jacob, and the winter was going to
pass. Who knew but that a work of grace had
begun in the old man's heart, and that he also
was a son of Abraham ? It was worth trying, at
any rate, so the minister started afresh.
"We had an experiment last year, and it
would have pleased you to see how the ex-
pectation of the holiday blessed those homes of
poverty. The children who were chosen to go
worked hard at school, and were always talking
about the flowers they had never seen, and their
mothers did their little best to get their clothes
ready and put them in decent repair. They also
set themselves to clean their houses and to make
themselves more tidy, so as to be in keeping
with the children. They were wild with anxiety
that their bairns should not be put to shame by
others, because they were dirty and ragged. We
saw that every child had some sort of a modest
outfit, and you may laugh at me, Mr. Murchie-
190
The Power of the Child
son, for I must take the blame for this fooHsh-
ness, but we gathered some old toys, that they
might take them to the country — ^boats for the
boys and dolls for the girls — and I collected
myself a dozen old parasols, for the lassies, you
know." He had no sooner said parasol than
Carmichael trembled, for he felt that his case
was lost. The idea of the economist supporting
a scheme which embraced the provision of para-
sols for slum girls, even although the parasols
cost nothing, was quite preposterous. But Mur-
chieson neither jeered nor protested; as a mat-
ter of fact, Carmichael had never seen him look
so gracious before.
"Make it five," said Jacob, and Carmichael
knew for certain that the wind of heaven was
with him, and that he must not miss his oppor-
tunity.
"You should have seen the little band go off
from the station last July, with their luggage —
I shall never forget that — in band-boxes and
paper bags and fruit baskets and soap boxes,
but each one was as proud as Punch of his be-
longings. And every bairn as clean as a brass
191
St. Jude's
pin, and every bit of clothes well brushed and
darned. If you'd seen the care the lassies took
of their parasols and the laddies of their boats
and balls and bats and other clamjamery ! Every
mother was there with one or two relatives to
see the expedition off. They gave something
like a cheer, you bet, as the train began to move,
and I declare you would have thought that the
look of cunning and of hardness had passed
from the faces of those city Arabs, as if the dis-
tant breath of the country were already touching
them. Mr. Murchieson," said Carmichael, with
fearsome hardihood, "you would have liked to
be there."
"I should," said Jacob, with unmistakable de-
cision, "make it ten."
There was no doubt now that salvation had
come to Murchieson, and Carmichael, licking his
lips, started off afresh.
"When the bairns were half way through their
holiday I went down to see them, and I count
that the best trip I have had for many a year.
As I climbed the road from the station someone
called me by name from the overhanging bank,
192
The Power of the Child
and, looking up, behold, four lassies from our
mission-school. They were flushed with health
and browned by the sun and full of innocent joy.
One had a necklace of buttercups, that had
taken hours to make, another had a coronet
of wild roses, the third had a bunch of flowers
she was taking back as a present to her country
mother in the cottage where she lived, and the
fourth had dug up some primrose roots which
were going back to the city with her. 'Isn't this
grand, maister Carmichael?' and she threw me
down a spray of honeysuckle."
"I mind the honeysuckle on the road I gae'd
to schule," remarked Murchieson. "I'm no sure
that I've seen honeysuckle since that day; at
ony rate, I never noticed it."
"Where do you think I found the laddies?"
cried Carmichael in triumph, for he knew now
that principalities and powers in the heavenly
places were with him, and that Jacob had been
given as a spoil into his hands. "Of course at
the burn side, and they were in their glory doing
themselves proud to the top hole. Some of
them were busy on a dam and I tell you pretty
193
St. Jude's
tidy work. Poor little chaps, they are going to
be men of their hands when they get a chance.
Others had made a harbor farther up for their
boats, and they were loading them with gravel
for corn and sailing them down the dam from
America to Scotland. Every little scamp was
as fresh as a daisy, and when I saw them work-
ing in that pure, wholesome water, I assure you,
Mr. Murchieson, I nearly cried for joy, and I
thanked God that they were having fourteen
days of the burn instead of the gutter. But
maybe you're laughing at me for my foolish-
ness."
"I'm not," said Jacob fiercely ; "how dare you
say that to me! There was a burnie round by
my mother's cottage, but it's mair than fifty year
sin' I biggit a dam. Make it twenty."
"That afternoon," resumed Carmichael, "the
whole caboodle went off for an expedition in
some carts a good-natured farmer gave, and
there's no use telling lies, Mr. Murchieson, I
went with them, and was the worst laddie of
the gang. Half of us garrisoned an old castle
in a wood, and the other half tried to take it
194
The Power of the Child
from us, and we had flags and guns and two tin
trumpets and an old drum, and I had a cocked
hat made out of paper, for I was general-in-
command. The lassies played in the wood at
ring-around-a-rosy, and had their skipping-ropes
and the other things the lassies love, besides
washing their dolls' clothes in the burn at the
castle foot. We had milk and bread-and-jam for
our tea, and went home singing in the carts
when the sun was hastening westwards. Then
the laddies brought home the cows and the las-
sies helped to milk them, and when I left to
catch the night train the last thing I saw was
the bairns sound asleep in clean homely beds,
with the fresh air blowing in through the open
windows, and their faces red with health, as if
the hand of the Lover of little children had
wiped away all the grime of the city from their
cheeks, as well as the sin of the city from their
souls."
"Make it fifty," shouted Murchieson, who
was much excited, "and a pound extra to buy
peppermint-rock."
"To buy what?" said Carmichael, who now
195
St. Jude's
thought that either Murchieson or he was taking
leave of his senses.
"Man ! div ye not know what peppermint-
rock is ? There's naething Hke it, though its lang
sin I tasted it. I'll have some this verra day. And
look ye here, Mr. Carmichael, ye want to send
a thousand bairns next summer, but you're
afraid about the cash ; pick your thousand, and
I'll underwrite the company. Tell me how much
is needed above the fifty when ye go to allot-
ment." And Murchieson departed hurriedly and
marched down the street as if there was a band
in front.
"When he ordered that rock, Kate, I knew
that the grace of God was exceeding abundant
in the heart of Jacob Murchieson," said John
Carmichael with emphasis, for he also had his
weaknesses. "This is the beginning of a time;
we have not heard the last of Jacob."
He was right, for curious stories began to cir-
culate about Murchieson. That he had increased
the salaries of his ofifice staff, and sent one young
fellow who had been ill away for a long voy-
age. That he had undertaken the charge of the
196
The Power of the Child
widows and children of two firemen who had
fallen in the discharge of duty. That he had
given a thousand pounds to the building of the
children's infirmary, and promised another thou-
sand if they cleared off the debt. That the col-
lection at St. Jude's had a sovereign every
morning in the plate, and that the poor fund
had been put in a condition of thorough repair.
He offered no explanation and he made no
boast, but every month he fed the wonder by
some unexpected charity. "He is not himself ;
he must be going crazy," said a merchant who
had had dealings in his day with Jacob, and
despaired of any reasonable solution of the mys-
tery. "It's the first time that he has been him-
self, I would say," replied Carmichael. "This
is the real Murchieson, only we didn't know him
before, and he didn't know himself."
197
IHer flnarrtage Da^
Wer tnarrtaae Dai?
Telegrams from China in those days of revo-
lution and anarchy were short and confused
and as often as not contradictory and unintel-
ligible. Although the name of Agnes Durham
had appeared in the first list of Christian mar-
tyrs, Carmichael, with his incurable optimism,
had refused to accept the news as final, and
found fifty cogent reasons for hope. Had she
not gone out only two years ago in the fresh-
ness of her young womanhood to serve as a
nurse in the mission, and could it be in the will
of Providence to close her career so untimely?
The mission had never been attacked before,
and did such excellent work for the sick of that
most needy city, Chew-whang, that even the
most fanatical of anti-Christians must have been
grateful and had a good will towards the hospi-
tal. Were not the missionaries under the protec-
tion of the English power, if not under the cover
of the English flag, and would any one dare to
St. Jude*s
insult the majesty of Great Britain by doing to
death her unoffending citizens? As for the
rumors, they were only the offspring of a trou-
bled time, the flying dust stirred up by the wild
movements of the insurrection, or they were the
reckless invention of an unscrupulous and low-
class press, which was willing to make money
out of tortured minds and broken hearts. He
was absolutely certain that the mission and all
within the walls were as safe as St. Jude's
Church and its congregation, and he was per-
sonally looking for a letter from Agnes, giving
them picturesque accounts of the riot and their
escape and all the wonderful things she had
seen, and all the service she had rendered to
sick and wounded men. Carmichael even allowed
his fancy to play round the event, and imag-
ined the mission protected from the mob by de-
voted Chinamen, who were grateful for past
help, and said they would rather die than allow
a hair of the missionaries' heads to be touched.
One afternoon, as he paced his study and gave
the reins to his Celtic enthusiasm, he already be-
held in vision the people of Chew-whang, touched
Her Marriage Day
to the heart by the courage and charity of the
mission, coming into the Christian Church by
the thousand together. In all this a large share
of the glory was assigned to the young woman
who had suddenly broken the even tenor of
her life and devoted herself to the high enter-
prise of the Church in the regions beyond, and
was the only representative of St, Jude's in the
foreign field. The minister used to complete his
romance by bringing Agnes home for furlough
after the trying experiences of the rebellion, and
arranging a welcome meeting at St. Jude's which
was to exceed anything ever known in the his-
tory of that distinguished church for the mag-
nificence of the attendance and the wildness of
the enthusiasm. And then Agnes would by-and-
by return to China with a band of young women
who had caught the infection of her spirit and
given the last pledge of devotion to the Cross of
Christ. It would be an epoch in missions.
As the mists roll off the mountainside, so
wi.ere Carmichael's day-dreams dispelled, and
he had been forced to face the facts. Long ago
it had been placed beyond doubt that the lonely
203
St. Jude's
mission premises had been sacked by the Reb-
els, and the helpless little band of missionaries,
men and women, put to death. They had held
a memorial service at St. Jude's and had re-
turned thanks for the triumphant death of the
martyrs with such a lift of heart that some
of the sect of the Pharisees, such as Simeon Mac-
Quittrick, had declared that it was little better
than praying for the dead ; and Carmichael had
so magnified the ruby crown of martyrdom that,
although no one present offered there and then
to go out to China, several men who were trying
to do good work in their own city did it more
bravely for years to come. The congregation
commemorated her death by a painted window,
so that every worshiper in St. Jude's, when he
lifted his eyes toward the pulpit, could see her
gentle and spiritual face as she walked in white,
following her Lord, in the higher ministry ; and
Mr. Murchieson, who had a little earlier obtained
salvation through the service of little children,
recanted all his prejudices against foreign mis-
sions and erected at his own cost a hospital to
the glory of God and the memory of Agnes
204
Her Marriage Day
Durham in the city of Chew-whang, while a
new standard of unselfishness and heroism was
unconsciously set to the body of the people. Her
years were not many and her work was not
long, and it seemed a tragedy that a young life
full of promise should have been so cruelly
closed. But every life must be judged by the
long result, and one who dies at twenty-five
may have wrought greater works than one who
has lived to threescore years and ten. There
was another expression upon the faces of her
father and mother, and a new flavor of un-
worldliness in their lives ; one of her brothers
entered the ministry, and another has given
richly of his time and substance to social work.
One sister is a missionary's wife in Africa, and
another is the head of a settlement in London,
and all these things have come to pass because
she loved not her life unto the death, but laid
it down for His dear sake and for suffering
women.
The letter from the English Consul contain-
ing the information he collected when he re-
turned to the city lies upon Carmichael's desk,
205
St. Jude's
and he is reading again certain sentences which
are engraven, not on his memory, but on his
heart to this day.
"The mission staff, according to the testi-
mony of reliable witnesses, behaved with re-
markable heroism, and showed a spirit of self-
abnegation which is beyond words. ... As
soon as the danger was realized they had re-
moved the children from the school and as many
of the sick as could leave their beds to a place
of safety in the country The doc-
tor and two nurses remained with the patients,
mostly women who could not be moved. When
the rioters forced the gates of the mission the
three missionaries presented themselves in order
to divert attention from the hospital ward, where
the sick were lying. . . . They were offered
the choice of denying their religion and blas-
pheming the name of Jesus or instant death.
According to the account which was corrobo-
rated by certain of the Rebels themselves, they
began to sing, 'J^sus, Master, Whose I Am,'
and they had not finished the first verse before
they were all beheaded. . . . One of the
3o6
Her Marriage Day
ladies, who has been identified as Miss Durham,
was heard to cry 'Lord Jesus,' with an exceed-
ingly sweet voice, and one looking on described
her face as that of a bride on her marriage
day. . . . These details I have collected
from truthworthy sources, and have sent home,
because they may be of comfort to the friends
of those who fell, and they bear testimony to
the unshaken courage and remarkable devotion
of the missionaries. . . . It is satisfactory
to add that the Rebels were satisfied with the
murder of the staflf, and did not seek for the
patients, so that the doctor and the two nurses
accomplished their end and saved the lives of
those committed to their charge."
"Her Marriage Day" — and, as he read those
words again, the scene of martyr romance, with
the little Christian citadel, rich in Christ's treas-
ure of the sick, and the brave garrison of Christ's
three servants, and the raging, merciless, brutal
enemy, and the last song to the honor of Jesus
before his soldiers sealed their testimony with
their blood, and the figure of their own marytr
waiting for the Bridegroom, faded in its spiritual
207
St. Jude's
and dazzling glory from before Carmichael's
mind, and he recalled another scene which now
would be its companion, as in years to come
he thought of Agnes Durham. From the begin-
ning of his ministry at St. Jude's he had known
and respected her, and had seen more of her
than almost any other of the young women who
worked in the church. He had come to regard
her as a model of Christian character and un-
selfish service, and indeed he was accustomed
to mention her to his wife as an instance of
sinless perfection, which had never been a fault
with Kate Carmichael, and even in lighter mo-
ments to hint that if it had been the will of an
inscrutable Providence to have given him Agnes
Durham for a helpmeet, there is no saying to
what heights of usefulness and sanctity he might
have risen. Kate admired Agnes as much as
her husband, and was not at all moved by those
speculative rearrangements, for she used to
point out that Carmichael, being a man of varied
tastes and wayward impulses, and being as yet
only in the early processes of sanctification.
Would have been sick and tired of Agnes Durham
3o8
Her Marriage Day
in a month. Carmichael was ready to admit the
force of this remark, for he admired Agnes
as a saint rather than as a woman, and it is the
women and not the saints who are more per-
fectly suited for married Hfe. No one had ever
called her beautiful, or even said she was pretty.
People used to say, as they generally do in such
cases, that she had a sweet expression, and
there were certainly moments when the soul
within lent an engaging comeliness to the face.
It would have been a satire to describe her as
clever or brilliant, and she herself would have
smiled at the idea ; for if the truth be told, Agnes
was slow of mind and even puzzle-headed, so
that she had difficulty in getting a hold of things
and she was as absolutely destitute of humor as
the table. There was nothing distinguished
about her except that she had a neat figure and
good manners, white teeth and a pleasant smile,
and, it should be added, brown eyes of dog-like
faithfulness. What does it matter now that she
seemed commonplace, and that she was uninter-
esting to bright people, so that she had fallen
into the habit of silence in company, and had
309
St. Jude*s
grown afraid of those wonderful folk who never
open their mouths without dropping an epigram,
and never refer to the weather without original-
ity.
One may even grant that she had the de-
fects of her excellent qualities — that she was a
trifle demure and prudish, that she was apt to
treat young men as if they were ever on the
verge of a proposal, and that her rules of pro-
priety approached absurdity. Carmichael had
once been angry with her when at a guild meet-
ing in St. Jude's he had introduced two country
lads — recent arrivals — and left them with her
as in good company, to find on his return one
of them sitting looking east, and the other look-
ing west, while Agnes Durham in the centre
looked north, and all three were bound and
held in unbroken and awful silence. There are
old maids by force of circumstances, and there
are those who, as Mrs. Gamp would say, that
close observer of life and profound philosopher,
"are born sich," and Agnes Durham every one
would have agreed was "born sich." There are
fhings you can believe may happen, and thing?
219
Her Marriage Day
which you cannot believe, and only the most
riotous and topsy-turvey mind could imagine
any one making love or proposing to Agnes
Durham, or Agnes being married and the mother
of a family. She had a distaste for men unless
they were cripples who required to be nursed,
or elderly gentlemen with white hair, who said,
"Eh ! what, my dear, eh !" With male persons
of this harmless character she allowed herself
freedom of speech, and might even have ex-
changed a mild jest; toward young and able-
bodied men she maintained a cold and dignified
reserve, and they escaped from her presence as
from the chilling temperature of a mausoleum,
Carmichael held that the religious calling of
women was not confined to the Roman Church,
but that there were also Protestant nuns, and
to all appearance this was the nature and lot
of Agnes Durham. She would wait upon her
father and mother with the utmost docility and
devotion till they died; she would then keep
house for a bachelor brother, and serve him
hand and foot till, in some mad moment, which
Agnes could never account for, he married some
3X1
St. Jude's
perfectly unsuitable person ; she would then go
and take care of some frail and bad-tempered
distant relative till a merciful Providence re-
moved her, and then she would join with an-
other maiden lady of corresponding history and
tastes, and they would set up house together
with a very prim servant of uncertain age, a
pug and a parrot. The two excellent women
would spend their whole time in visiting the
poor, distributing tracts, collecting for charities,
sewing for Dorcas Societies, attending mission-
ary meetings and doing the inglorious work on
committees. This Carmichael would have said
five years ago would have been her program,
and through it all she would have been always
modest, gracious, good-natured, charitable and
maddeningly correct and conscientious.
We have all got complete character portraits
of people we know upon the walls of our mind,
and are not averse to taking friends round and
letting them see this and that person. One day
we get a great surprise, for we find that after
all we knew only the face, and did not even
guess the heart, and that the person whom, as
212
Her Marriage Day
we thought, we could read as a book was some-
thing very different and unexpected.
When Miss Durham entered Carmichael's
study one forenoon he was delighted as usual
to see her, for he had no surer ally and he made
little doubt about her errand. It would be to
ask whether a certain harmless tale was quite
suitable for the young women's guild, or
whether if a family in the mission district did
not wish tracts she ought to leave them on the
table, or what was the meaning of an obscure
verse by some minor prophet which she had
come across in her reading, or what was one's
duty when your family asked you to make a
fourth in a game of whist. Carmichael was not
a patient man, nor very sympathetic towards
scrupulosity, but she was so sincere and unsel-
fish, and lived so entirely for the highest ends,
that he was ever at her service, and he made a
hasty calculation how long he could give her
and how pleasant he could be to her.
"You may be sure, Miss Durham, that I
am always only too glad to see you, and to talk
about your work. Please tell me wherein I can
213
St. Jude's
help you, for you have a right, if any person
in St. Jude's has, to the good offices of your
minister."
"It isn't about my work, but about myself
that I have come to-day. I have been wishing
to call for the last month about this matter;
three times I have been at your door and
turned back, and it was only after lying awake
last night and praying for guidance that I have
mustered courage to visit you this morning." A
new note in the voice startled Carmichael and
he noticed also an indefinable difference in man-
ner. He looked at her curiously and waited for
further speech.
"I know, Mr. Carmichael," she went on after
a little pause, "that whatever I say to you will
be confidential and. that it will never pass from
you to any other person. I am quite sure of
this, else I would not have come to-day. You
are a Christian minister and a gentleman, so I
do not ask your promise." Whatever the cir-
cumstances were, Carmichael began to see they
must be serious, for they had invested her with
a certain intensity and anxiety which had never
214
Her Marriage t)ay
befdfe appeafed in this placid and conventional
nature.
"You know me well enough, Miss Durham,
to trust me utterly. Do not hesitate to open
your heart and to tell me your trouble, if trouble
it be." And Carmichael glanced keenly at her,
for he felt as if he were leaving an inland lake
and putting out to sea — a sea for which he had
no chart.
"It would be very hard, Mr. Carmichael," she
said in a low but firm voice, "if I had to confess
some sin of which you never would have sus-
pected me. It is, I think, still more difficult to
speak to you about something else you never
could imagine." Her face flushed hotly and then
paled again, her eyes grew soft and tender, so
that for the first time Carmichael thought her
pretty, and at her expression he started inward-
ly and wondered. He had seen the same look
when a girl came to announce her engagement.
"It is not easy to find words," and she came
nearer to Carmichael and unconsciously laid
hold upon the sleeve of his coat.
"People have always supposed, I know, that
215
St. Jude's
I disliked all men — except of course my own
people — and I have always felt that men did
not want to be with me, because I have not got
the ways of young women, and cannot make
myself agreeable, and because I am not good-
looking. But though our faces be different,
every woman's heart is the same." She could go
no further, but looked wistfully at the minister
to see if he understood. And Carmichael did.
He had ever held — and it was not the least
part of his small store of wisdom in those early
years — that every woman was made to love,
and in loving fulfilled herself. That the ideal
state for women was marriage, and that to
marriage they were justified in looking as a goal
of life. He had also cherished in his heart the
belief that those dear old maids whose faces
were like withered roses, had had their love
affairs, which had been love tragedies, and that
somewhere in their desk and in some secret
drawer there was a photograph and a packet
of faded letters. Never had he laughed at love-
sickness or treated marriage lightly; even in
his inexperience he had found that this was the
216
Her Marriage Day
strongest passion of life, and that many a man
and woman had been wrecked or had been saved
in body and soul by love. He blamed himself
that if he had made any exception it was for
such a one as Agnes Durham, and now he was
to find that this timid and virginal soul had
also her love story.
"Yes, Miss Durham," said the minister with
much gentleness, "I think that I know, and if
it be as I suppose, I am glad. You have won
the prize of life, which is love."
"If it were the will of God I should be the
happiest and most fortunate woman in this
city. But I have nothing to tell; that is my
misery, I cannot be sure. I love him, but he has
said nothing, and perhaps he does not love me."
And Miss Durham was now twisting her gloves
in her hands, and trembling so much that Car-
michael compelled her to sit down, and for a
minute looked towards the window, as his way
was when people were regaining themselves.
"You wonder why I came to you, and what
you can do for me. It is not a matter in which,
as a rule, a stranger can meddle. I have not
217
St. Jude's
spoken to my mother, and it would be of fid
use. I know no one to whom to go, except
yourself, and I cannot endure this uncertainty
any longer. It is disturbing my life and hinder-
ing my work ; it may soon break my health. Will
you help me ?"
"To the utmost of my power and sympathy,"
replied Carmichael, "but what can I do? Do I
know the man, and may I ask his name?"
"No one knows him so well, and you are
understood to be his most intimate friend. You
are often together, and every one says that
you have no secrets from one another. You
guess now whom I mean," said Miss Durham,
with a trembling voice, for this revelation is an
awful strain upon a woman's innate delicacy
and self-respect.
"Pardon me if I am making a mistake, for
this conversation has taken me aback, but can
it be Professor Redgrave ?" And Agnes' super-
sensitive ear caught the accent of astonishment
and hopelessness in Carmichael's voice. "No,"
he said, after she had given a gesture of assent,
"I never could have guessed."
218
Her Marriage Day
The pity of it struck Carmichael in an instant
and he would have g^ven a year of his ministry
to save this sensitive and deep-hearted girl what
he began to realize would be the chief agony of
her life. What was the meaning of it, or was
there any reason at all behind things, that this
girl, with her homely face and retiring ways,
should have fallen in love with Redgrave? If
she was not the plainest girl in the city, and
certainly she was not that, there was no ques-
tion, he was the handsomest and most brilliant
personality. With his perfect Greek face, his
flashing eyes, his rich, olive complexion, his
fascinating smile, his eternal gaiety, his ready
wit, his faultless manners and equally faultless
dress, his innumerable accomplishments, he was
the glory of the University and the pet of the
West End. He was welcome everywhere, and
he was courteous to all. He seemed to know
everything besides his own subject, and he al-
ways said the right thing. Never was such an
"Admirable Crichton" seen in a gray Scots city,
where he appeared like a bird of paradise.
It was a general jest that every second
219
St. Jude's
young woman was in love with him ; but while
he was agreeable to all women, he was secretly
indifferent. Carmichael was convinced that he
would never marry, but that if he did so it would
be grandly. As for poor Agnes Durham ! Car-
michael walked to the window, as was his way
in the critical moments of an interview, and he
could have wept, or laughed, it was so absurd ;
it was also so lamentable. A woman of sensitive
nature and morbid self-respect does not unveil
her melting heart in any man's sight, except in
desperate straits, and the only consolation for
her torture is the fulfillment of her desire. Car-
michael turned, and his heart failed him as he
looked at Agnes. She was still standing waiting
for his word, and she read the answer in his
face.
"I understand — please say nothing. He took
me in to dinner once, and I have met him other
times, not often. He called one afternoon and
sat for some time. I attended his philosophy
class for ladies, and he was so kind about an
essay I wrote, and pointed out the mistakes in
style. It was the way he spoke and looked at
220
Her Marriage Day
me. But I suppose it was my own imagination,
and the love is all my own. You will not laugh
at me, nor think this a young girl's fancy. I am
not young and have no fancies. This is my only
love story, and it is closed."
"You do not know, perhaps in days to
come "
"I am certain — never before and never again
— it is not God's will for me, and my calling is
not an earthly marriage."
Now the will of God was plain, and the heart
of Agnes Durham, deep and true, which would
have been a priceless treasure for the best of
men, was forever satisfied where they neither
marry nor are given in marriage, but are as the
angels of God.
221
TRigbteoua ©vermucb
IRfQbteous ©vermucb
The ordinary business of the court of elders
had been finished, and the minister was about to
pronounce the benediction, when an elder rose
whom every one honored, both for his ability and
his integrity, as well as his courtesy and kind-
ness, and spoke with deep emotion.
"Moderator and brethren, I have a commu-
nication to make to the Session which gives me
greater pain than I have ever had in all my life,
and which I venture to think will be received
with sympathy. Owing to the recent financial
crisis, and the policy of the banks in calling in
their loans, our firm has been gravely embar-
rassed, and I am sorry to say we shall be obliged
to-morrow to place ourselves in the hands of
our creditors. This is a great grief to my part-
ners and myself, for, as you know, gentlemen,
our firm has an ancient name, and we have tried
to keep it unsoiled ; circumstances, however,
have been too much for us, and it is possible
325
St. Jude's
that our history is near an end ; at any rate, we
shall not be able for the first time to meet our
obligations.
"With our business affairs, I am aware, this
court has nothing to do, and I will not refer
further to that side of things; you have, how-
ever, the charge of your honor as a court of
the church, and it is your business to watch over
the character of your members; it is a disaster
if a communicant in the Christian church should
fail in his moral duty, but it is a still greater
calamity if any man in the position of elder
should not be able to keep Christ's law so far
as a poor man can. As to-morrow I shall be
practically, if not legally, bankrupt and any man
in that position should lay his resignation on
the table of the court, to leave them to do with
it as they please, and as the circumstances sug-
gest, I beg now with deep regret to resign my
position as an elder in St. Jude's. I have been
proud to hold the office; I should hate in any
way to disgrace it." And Mr. Ryrie left the
court, but not before our Nathanael had shaken
him warmly by the hand. The door was hardly
326
Righteous Overmuch
dosed before Nathanael, usually one of the most
diffident and silent of the court, was on his feet
and asking the Moderator to allow him to move
a resolution.
"I'm sure," he said, "that I express the deep-
est feeling of every heart when I say that we
have received this intelligence with the greatest
sorrow, and that there is not one of us who will
not remember our brother Ryrie in our prayers
to-night ; there is not in the city a more upright
man, and there is not a firm which has a higher
reputation. As we all know, what has happened
is not their blame, but their misfortune, and in
the present state of aiTairs might be the lot of
any of us. It is quite in keeping with our
brother's spirit to place his resignation before
us, and I do not deny that there arc circum-
stances when such a resignation might be wisely
accepted. But in this case we are all at one ; it
would be a serious loss to the Session to part
with Mr. Ryrie, and it would be a great blank
in our own fellowship ; he has been a strength to
the court, and he will be the same in years to
come, and I beg to move," — and then after a
227
St. Jude's
long consultation with the Moderator, for
Nathanael was not skilful in drawing up resolu-
tions, he read as follows :
"The Session decline to receive the resigna-
tion which Mr. Ryrie has tendered, and invite
him to continue in the office of elder; they ex-
press their sympathy with him in his present
trial, and they place on record their affectionate
and respectful appreciation of his unblemished
character and valuable services."
They were already arranging that the Moder-
ator and Nathanael should wait upon Mr. Ryrie
at his house that evening, and convey to him this
resolution and the good wishes of the Session,
when a member of court who had moved
uneasily once or twice called attention to the
fact that the resolution had not been put, and
therefore was not carried.
"Yes, Mr. Moderator," said Mr. Skinner, ris-
ing, "I do mean that I am going to propose an
amendment to that motion, or, if it be more in
order, I shall move the previous question. It is
not certainly agreeable to occupy my present
position, or to take the line which I am doing;
328
Righteous Overmuch
one is always more popular when he says smooth
things and falls in with the majority. But I
take it we are here to obey our conscience and
to do our duty by the congregation committed
to our charge. I am in perfect agreement with
all that has been said about the financial crisis
which has affected us all, and also about the
high character of Mr. Ryrie's firm, but I wish
to submit that we have to deal with facts. The
facts are that he is an elder of this church, the
highest position one can obtain in our religious
organization, and that he is going to compound
with his creditors ; it is very unfortunate for him
that he should be in this position, but it would
be still worse for us if he continued in the elder-
ship. I do not say that a bankrupt is as bad as
a drunkard, it is not necessary to make com-
parisons. But it is a scandal when one cannot
pay his debts, and therefore I think Mr. Ryrie
has shown a wise discretion in resigning, and I
beg to submit that we express our sympathy
with him and that we accept the resignation."
"Does any one second this motion ?" said Car-
michael in a voice eloquent with indignation, and
229
St. Jude^s
a silence followed which would have daunted
any one except that indomitable Aristides. No
one would second it, and the Moderator an-
nounced triumphantly that the motion of
Nathanael was carried unanimously.
"Excuse me," said Mr. Skinner, "you cannot
say unanimously till you know whether every
one is in favor," and when the show of hands
was taken he held his up against it ; he also asked
that his protest should be entered in the min-
utes. As Mr. Skinner anticipated, and the
elders feared, he was successful, for when Mr.
Ryrie learned that one elder had dissented he
refused to resume office, and St. Jude's lost for
a time one of the representative merchants of
the city.
This stroke was admitted to be Mr. Skinner's
masterpiece, and every one was agreed that he
had never been so successfully offensive; but the
incident was only the outcome of his character.
Mr. Skinner, during the course of a long life,
had never done anything openly wrong, either
at school or in his youth or in business or in
church affairs or in his home or in society. He
«30
Righteous Overmuch
was an abstainer and a good liver; he was a hard
worker and faithful to every charge ; he had
always paid what was due ; he never had broken
a bargain ; he gave largely to charity, and helped
to manage the business aflfairs of a hospital ; he
had provided for his wife and family; he held
family worship morning and evening; his at-
tendance at church touched the highest point,
and he visited his district as an elder four times
a year. His very appearance in black frock-
coat and waistcoat, dark gray trousers, black tie,
carefully brushed hat ; the thin lines of his
mouth, the cold expression of his eye, his se-
verely trimmed whiskers, his exact form of
speech, his formal handshake, were all a revela-
tion of the man. He was emphatically a right-
eous man, against whom no one could bring any
charge of omission or commission; and he was
simply detested. There was no one who could
say a bad word of him, there was no one ever
moved to say a good word of him. There was
no one need be ashamed to be in his company,
but every one hastened to get out of his com-
pany. So far as was known he had no friends,
231
St. Jude's
and for that matter hardly any acquaintance;
for men would lose ten minutes rather than
travel in the 'bus with him. His wife was well-
dressed, and was allowed the use of a hired
brougham. In case of illness she would have
had the best medical attendance, and her hus-
band always spoke to her with respect ; but peo-
ple noticed that she had a cowed and spiritless
look, not as of one who was ill-used, for no one
suspected Skinner of secret domestic vices, but
the look of one who had lost vitality. She had
blanched and withered under the shadow of her
austere husband. His sons, except one who had
gone abroad, were unmarried and lived at home.
They had not played the fool, and they were not
known to quarrel with their father. But the
father and sons were never seen together, and
at home they sat in different rooms. If they
ever talked, it was only on business arrange-
ments, and they never exchanged an affectionate
greeting. Place him where you please, he would
do righteously; do what he pleased, he would
be disliked. If there were an opportunity of
acting graciously, he always refused it; if there
232
Righteous Overmuch
were an opportunity of acting severely, he al-
ways seized it. He was carried away by no im-
pulse, he was guided by a frozen reason ; he was
never troubled by a warm heart, he was domi-
nated by a pedantic conscience. He was always
logical, and often rose to sublime heights of
common-sense. He was ever at war with senti-
ment, and carried about with him the atmosphere
of a refrigerator. And at the close of that meet-
ing, it was only the singular grace of God and
the charitable influence of Nathanael which pre-
vented Carmichael from inviting Mr. Skinner
into the vestry when the meeting of Session was
over, and explaining to him in the frankest and
most unreserved terms what he thought both
of himself and his works.
One seldom regrets that he has not spoken
harshly, for one never knows what sudden turn
life may take, and Carmichael felt that he had
lost nothing by his self-restraint — a quality in
which he did not greatly excel, when a message
came from Mr. Skinner asking him to call as
quickly as possible, because they were in great
trouble. When he arrived he was shown into
233
St. Jude*s
the dining-room, where the very furniture of
heavy mahogany, and the absence of ornament,
and the general air of severity, bore the impress
of the family character. It did not matter how
joyful and hopeful one might be, an hour in
that room, or even five minutes if you were sus-
ceptible, would reduce the wildest spirit to a
state of solemnity. Even although one were
simply charged with charity, till it oozed from
his finger-tips, he would be obliged to take a
more unrelenting view of his fellows after
breathing the atmosphere of that hall of justice.
Carmichael felt that nothing but a moral earth-
quake could upset the iron composure and im-
perturbable self-righteousness of this house — or,
rather, of its head; but when Mr. Skinner en-
tered the room he knew there had been some
kind of a catastrophe. His hair had lost its
exact set; his eyes were many degrees softer;
the straight line of his lips had been shaken ; his
very clothes seemed to be worn carelessly. The
whole fashion of his countenance had been al-
tered, and his manner was broken and hesitating.
"Very glad to see you, Mr. Carmichael ; that is
234
Righteous Overmuch
not quite what I intended to say, for I cannot
be glad in the circumstances, very much the
opposite. But I am grateful, very grateful, and
Mrs. Skinner — that is, I mean to say, my wife —
also thanks you for coming so promptly. We
thought of you in this hour of trouble, for,
although I may never have said it to you, I have
been — that is, I am — in fact, we have enjoyed
many of your sermons very much, especially we
now think those about sorrow. They — have
touched us more than we knew, and — we turn
to you to-day as by an instinct, if I may put it
that way." And as he floundered along, Car-
michael began to believe that there might be an-
other Skinner whom neither he nor any other
man had as yet known,
"Before I tell you why we have asked you to
come," continued the elder, who seemed anxious
to unburden himself, "I must make a confession.
It is rather painful and, in fact, humiliating, but
— that is part of the — punishment, and quite fair.
You know my two sons? Quite so, and — no
doubt you are aware that they are well-doing
young men — not quite so religious as I should
235
St. Jude's
like — and there are one or two things in which
we do not see eye to eye, but I am bound to
say that I have had no cause for complaint. If
I had been — well, perhaps a little more, what
shall I say? understanding or sympathetic — yes,
that is the word, sympathetic — our home might
have been happier. I know that my wife thinks
so, and — ^Jessie has always been nearer the boys
than I've been."
As Mr. Skinner confessed that he had not
been infallible, and, above all, when he called his
wife by her Christian name, Carmichael felt as
if he were looking at winter changing into
spring, and the conversion of a soul. But he
knew better than to say a single word ; it was
his part to listen and to encourage.
"Pray be seated, Mr. Carmichael. Pardon my
rudeness, but — this evening I have had much to
shake me, and, with your permission, I will con-
tinue the explanation of our family history.
Very likely you did not know that I had — I
mean, have — a third son. Some of the brethren,
of course, knew him, but they might not mention
the matter to you. Very considerate ; it would
236
Righteous Overmuch
be a good thing if we all regarded one another's
feelings, for life has many hard trials, and I am
learning that we should be kindly one to an-
other. I wish I had learned this sooner, but I
need not go into that just now. I have some-
thing else to speak about, and I am obliged to
you for hearing me so patiently."
"Tell me everything, Mr. Skinner," said Car-
michael, "and be sure that whatever your sor-
row may be, I want to share it with you, and so
will all your brethren. It is all we can do for
one another in the hour of trouble, and it is what
the Lord does for us, every one, 'Touched with
the feeling of our infirmities.' " And there was
a tenderness in Carmichael's voice which came
from his heart, for if a Celt be quick to anger, he
is also quick to love.
"Thank you from my heart, sir. As we do
unto others, so shall it be done unto us, is a
true word, but it has its exceptions. I am find-
ing one this evening, and kindness is very wel-
come to-night, for we are in great tribulation,
and it is largely of my own making. I see it
now, and I trust that I repent, but I fear me it
237
St. Jude*s
is too late. That word comes to me, 'Found
no place of repentance, though he sought it care-
fully with tears.' " And Mr. Skinner controlled
himself with a visible effort.
"But I have not told you about my son, who
was my youngest, and, as Jessie said to me, our
Benjamin. Lost to us like Benjamin, but whether
he be found or not again, I know not, but I pray
God may be merciful. Certainly, he has come
back to his home on earth, but whether he has
come to our heavenly Father — ah ! that is the
question which is trying us above every other.
"But I am anticipating, Mr. Carmichael, and
I'd better proceed in order, because you must
be in possession of the facts before you can do
any good, and my wife and I are hoping that
you will be used of God this evening to help a
young man who seems near to death, and to
relieve the anxiety of his father and mother.
My youngest son, to continue, was the best-
looking of the family — very like my beloved
wife, and he was in all ways the most attractive
— she is the gentlest of women, but I fear me
has had a hard lot. But I may not turn aside,
2^9
Righteous Overmuch
though there are many things I could say to-
night. Unfortunately, while Hke his mother in
most things, he inherited my hardness and pride.
We did not get on well together, Mr. Carmichael,
and I am willing to take the blame to-night, for
his mother always found him pleasant and affec-
tionate, and people outside liked him and made
much of him. It would weary you to go into
everything, but finally we quarreled, and he told
me he would go abroad and never come back
again." Mr. Skinner at this point rose and
paced the room, and then, standing at the fire-
place and leaning his head upon his hand, he
went on with the family tragedy.
"His mother was nearly broken-hearted, and
she pleaded with him to change his mind, and
he would have done so if I had asked him. But,
God forgive me, I refused, and told her that
as he had made his bed he must lie in it, and that
it would be better for us all that we should part.
We parted in anger, and I have never seen him
till he was brought from the steamer to our
house to-day ; I fear dying." And the severest
elder in St. Jude's sobbed with those tears
239
St. Jude's
which are wrung from a strong man's heart, and
are the bitterest in the world.
"Just one word more," said Mr. Skinner,
when he had recovered, "and you will know
everything. During the years of his absence he
wrote to his mother once or twice, but he said
very little about himself; we gathered that he
was not in want, and that he was not living
badly, but that was all we knew. Whether he
was a Christian or not, or what he thought about
those things, we had no idea, and now, since he
was brought to his home and laid on his bed,
he has been unconscious. Mr. Carmichael, his
mother and I pray that he may be spared, al-
though we cannot hope for that, but what we
desire above everything is that he should give
some sign that he is saved. If he be lost" —
and Skinner's voice sank into a low wail — "his
blood for all eternity shall lie at his father's
door."
Carmichael at that morhent did justice to the
strength of a creed which placed the things which
are unseen infinitely above the things which are
seen, and the strength of a man who held this
340
Righteous Overmuch
creed of the value of the soul and the awfulness
of moral issues, with the marrow of his bones.
And his heart went with Skinner when the elder
said, "If the choice were given me this night
whether I would have Robert restored to us in
health, but a stranger to Christ, or taken away
from us this night, but saved in the Lord, my
heart's desire would be that Robert should be
taken. Even although he never heard me in this
world ask his forgiveness." And Mr. Skinner
led the minister upstairs,
A nurse left the room when they entered, and
the four were alone. The son, unconscious in
a late stage of typhoid fever, and scarcely mov-
ing, moaned piteously at intervals, as one desir-
ing something he could not express, or seeking
for some person he could not find. The mother
was sitting beside the bed, and from time to
time stroked his forehead, while her eyes never
left his unresponsive face. His father went to
the foot of the bed, and, leaning heavily upon
the bed rail, looked at his son with a face in
which bitter regret and strong affection strug-
gled together. Carmichael went to the other
241
St. Jude's
side from Mrs. Skinner, and for a while stood
silent. Then he looked inquiringly at the father
and mother.
"We have spoken to him," said the father,
"and he does not hear or he cannot answer. His
mother has called him by her pet name for him,
and if he does not reply to that there is no sound
that can reach him. But we would like you to
pray for him, and maybe the words of the prayer
will find entrance into his soul, and he may still
make some sign before he passes into the other
world."
When the elder ceased, the mother leaned for-
ward, putting her lips to her son's ear, said,
"Robin, Robin, my ain dear bairn, Robin, do
you not know me, your mother? You are in
your old room, and in your father's house, if
you hear me move your hand," and she watched
the one hand that lay outside the bedclothes.
But it was motionless, and the unconscious man
only moaned.
Carmichael knelt and prayed, and as was his
wont on such occasions, he called upon the name
of the Lord Jesus, the lover of the human soul,
943
Righteous Overmuch
and our brother in every time of adversity, that
He would take this one they loved into his safe
keeping, body and soul ; that if it were the divine
will He would rebuke this fever, as He used
to do in the days of Galilee, and give this young
man back to his father and mother. But that,
if this were not the will of God, He would lead
him through the valley of the shadow of death
and bring him home, all his sins forgiven, and
his soul purified, into the Father's house ; and
that when the sick man heard neither the voice
of his father nor mother, Jesus would speak
comfortably to him, and that even now his soul
might be filled with peace in the Lord.
As Carmichael prayed, the elder and his wife
were joining in their hearts, but with their eyes
they were watching their son. It seemed to
them as if his restlessness were ceasing, and his
sunk and drawn face growing peaceful. He
breathed more gently, and looked as if he were
going to awake.
"He heard, I am sure that he heard that
prayer," and again she called him by name,
and wiped his forehead, and moistened his lips,
243
St. Jude's
that he might answer her if he could. Still he
gave no sign, and the silence in the room was
full of awe, for it seemed as if a human soul
were passing from their grasp into eternity, de-
siring to say farewell and not able.
Carmichael stooped down, and in a clear and
penetrating voice said into the dying man's ear,
"Jesus — Christ — Saviour."
When he had said this twice, a subtle change
came over the son's face, and he lay in perfect
quietness; then Carmichael spoke again, "Do
you believe in the Lord — Jesus — Christ?" And
the expression seemed to deepen, and the weari-
ness and the pain to be passing from the pallid
and pinched face.
"Robin," and now the mother spoke, "my
Robin, do you believe in Jesus?"
At the sound of the name of names, repeated
by the voice of his mother, the bondage of the
senses was broken for a brief instant, and Robin
twice lifted up his hand.
"See !" cried the mother, "he has heard me,*
and he is trusting in Jesus." "Thank God," said
the father, "for this great mercy, of which I am
244
Righteous Overmuch
not worthy," and while the mother was still
weeping, partly for joy, and partly for sorrow,
her son, all his wanderings over, passed from
the home on earth to the home in heaven.
Mr. Skinner was not given to the reading of
Browning, but Carmichael showed him a certain
passage in "A Death in the Desert," and the
elder had it printed, and it hangs in his room
to this day. But only Carmichael and his wife
know the reason.
"Then the Boy sprang up from his knees, and ran,
Stung by the splendor of a sudden thought.
And fetched the seventh plate of graven lead
Out of the secret chamber, found a place,
Pressing with finger on the deeper dints,
And spoke, as 't were his mouth proclaiming first,
'I am the Resurrection and the Life.'
"Whereat he opened his eyes wide at once,
And sat up of himself, and looked at us;
And thenceforth nobody pronounced a word."
245
jeuoMae ant) Sipnti^cbe
Buobfas an& Ssnt^cbe
Their friendship was of such long standing
and was established on such a solid basis that
every one would have said that it could never
be broken, and its disruption was looked upon
in St. Jude's as a catastrophe — something out-
side the laws of nature, like an earthquake or a
thunderbolt. They had been brides of the
same year and had made the rounds of dinners
together that winter, sometimes one taking pre-
cedence, sometimes the other, with smiles and
bows of perfect harmony. Both were Scots
women, Mrs. Wetherspoon from Perthshire,
which Sir Walter considers with justice the love-
liest of all Scots counties, because there the
Highlands and the Lowlands meet, and Mrs.
Wetherspoon had some faint flavor of the Celt
in her. She was one degree fierier and two de-
grees cleverer than her friend. Mrs. Livingstone
was from Aryshire, which has reared the dourest
breed of folk in all Scotland, and is still pre-
249
St. Jude's
pared if necessary to lift testimonies or take
covenants or do anything else to support the
old and to oppose the new, and Mrs. Living-
stone was a woman of strenuous affections and
unconquerable determination. They were both
attractive in appearance, though in different
ways, the one being pretty and the other hand-
some, and they had kept their good looks un-
diminished to middle age. Neither of them
thought it inconsistent with the somewhat severe
religion of St. Jude's to dress well or to take
some little trouble about their clothes. Perhaps
Mrs. Wetherspoon was a little more showy and
was inclined to wear more conspicuous jewelry,
while Mrs. Livingstone had a suggestion of
magnificence about her dress, and made up for
the reserve in ornaments by the costliness of
what she wore. Their husbands were both na-
tives of the city, and had known one another
from the beginning of things. They had played
together as children at the seaside, they had at-
tended the same West End academy, they had
gone as apprentices the same month, one soft
goods and the other into iron. In the same
250
Euodias and Syntyche
spring they had started business for themselves
in their several lines, and since then they had
kept step in prosperity. They had begun house-
keeping upon the respectable scale of a sixty-
pound rent, they had almost simultaneously
moved to larger houses, and finally one after
the other they had gone into what were called
in house-agent circulars "West End mansions."
Immediately after marriage both families had
settled in St. Jude's, and through all changes
of residence, and in spite of considerable dis-
tance, they had continued in the old church,
and indeed would have been miserable in any
other. Within the church sphere they had done
their duty from the beginning generously and
conscientiously, and had been rewarded by the
esteem of the congregation and by just promo-
tion.
The men were appointed deacons at the
same election, and if Mr. Livingstone was now
an elder and Mr. Wetherspoon remained a dea-
con, this was not because the one had been dis-
tinguished and the other neglected, but because
Mr. Wetherspoon had refused the office of elder
251
St. Jude's
and judged himself to be fit only for a deacon.
He was an excellent business man and an adept
in church finance, but he had no gift whatever
for public prayer and always used a manual at
family worship, which was held to indicate either
a certain want of spirituality or a difficulty in
suitable expression ; while Mr. Livingstone not
only conducted worship without any aid and
with much unction, but was able to make edify-
ing references to the conversion of the Jews
in his prayers, and to local events like the pro-
posal to run tram-cars on the Sabbath, which
went to show that he had a gift. He could be
depended upon to lead in prayer after the min-
ister's address at the week-night service and peo-
ple going home would remark with admiration
upon the skill with which he would sum up the
main points of the address and even venture
upon an application in his petitions. People in
St. Jude's were connoisseurs in prayer, and
greatly appreciated the happy use of a Scripture
expression or a felicitous allusion, and as Mr,
Wetherspoon was not a competitor in this class
and there was no room for jealousy, Mrs. Weth-
252
Euodias and Syntyche
erspoon would congratulate Mrs. Livingstone
with perfect sincerity and in the most gracious
way upon her husband's talent for religious ex-
ercises. There is a natural fitness in things, and
any one with discernment could see that Mr. Liv-
ingstone was intended for an elder by a certain
gravity of manner and a flavor of piety in speech,
while Mr. Wetherspoon was marked out for a
deacon by a worldly shrewdness in getting in the
seat-rents and a liberty in the color of his ties.
It was also understood that on occasion the
Wetherspoons went to a high-class play — say
when Sir Henry Irving was in the city — al-
though they did not allude to the matter in
church circles, while the Livingstones were op-
posed to the theatre in every shape and form,
including pantomimes. They also steadily re-
fused to give dances, and their daughters only
learned that dangerous accomplishment under
the guise of a class for calisthenics, where the
girls performed wonderful motions with their
arms for the first ten minutes, and then waltzed
for the other fifty. Besides, although this may
be pushing subtle distinctions too far, Mrs. Liv-
253
St. Jude's
ingstone in her sombre grandeur gave one the
idea of an elder's wife of the higher class, while
Mrs. Wetherspoon, with her brighter colors,
pointed rather to the more secular atmosphere
of a deacon's court. This specific difference ex-
tended to the views of the two ladies, for while
Mrs. Livingstone had a profound respect for
the doctrine of election, and liked from time to
time to see a confident young minister break
his teeth upon it, Mrs. Wetherspoon was heard
boldly to say that it was a secret past finding out,
and that every man who preached on it made
the darkness blacker; and while Mrs. Living-
stone deplored the fact that with the growing
laxity of modern theology the edifying doctrine
of hell was hardly ever touched, and Mr. Car-
michael did not seem to know the place existed,
Mrs. Wetherspoon thought the less said upon
that subject the better, and referred with a
shiver to a famous sermon by Dr. McCluckie
upon the cheerful text, "If I make my bed in
hell," in which that distinguished divine used
such freedom of speech that two ladies were
carried out fainting, Mrs. Wetherspoon in irre-
254
Euodias and Syntychc
sponsible moments declared that she would have
no objection to a prayer-book if only to save
the congregation from the infliction of theologi-
cal harangues in the place of petitions and the
refutation of contemporary heresies, but Mrs.
Livingstone felt it right to protest in private
against a form of words which Carmichael used
in praying for the Queen and the Royal Family,
because it was in those subtle ways that the
freedom of Presbyterian worship, for which her
ancestors had been shot by Claverhouse, was
undermined.
Those divergencies of opinion were, how-
ever, quite in the region of theory, and never
caused any friction between the two excellent
women, whose church careers had run parallel
with that of their husbands. As young matrons
occupied with the cares of their families they
could not be expected to do arduous church
work, but they had both taken districts in which
they distributed tracts at irregular intervals,
and visited the homes where they received a
welcome. They also assisted a number of poor
people more or less injudiciously, and both had
255
St. Jude's
collected in their time for the Sustentation fund.
When their children demanded less personal
attention and they were richer in experience,
they had entered the mothers' meeting, and by-
and-by it passed into their joint control — Mrs.
Livingstone reading religious books of sound
doctrine and extremely vigorous application,
while the mothers of the mission districts sewed
garments which had been cut out by Mrs.
Wetherspoon's clever hands. There was a story
that on one occasion when Mrs. Livingstone had
a sore throat, which prevented her reading, Mrs.
Wetherspoon, being left to the freedom of her
own will and the frivolous taste of a deacon's
wife, had read bits from Sir Walter to the
women, which it is said they greatly enjoyed.
This, however, was a lapse from the high stand-
ard of the meeting which was never repeated,
because the next time Mrs. Livingstone was
afflicted with hoarseness she resolutely attended
the meeting, and read with her lips if not with
her voice, considering it better that the women
should hear nothing than that they should be led
astray by vain fiction. Mrs, Livingstone had
256
Euodias and Syntyche
long been president of the missionary society,
and it was generally felt filled the chair with
great dignity, while her friend was secretary and
treasurer, and took good care that the business
was quickly done and the money well husbanded.
The ladies of St. Jude's would certainly have
been jealous if any other two of their number
had held so many offices and ruled so firmly,
but they had come to look upon the two friends
very much in the light of a hereditary monarchy
whose representatives are separated by a gulf
from the people, and with whom there is no com-
petition in honor. They were at least an estab-
lished institution and were recognized as the
ordained female leaders of the community.
Personally, they were on such terms of easy
and assured friendship that they did not feel it
necessary to call in turn at one another's houses
or to maintain an absolute equality in dinner in-
vitations, or to practice formalities of conversa-
tion when they met, or to make a point of com-
passing one another with observances.
They spent Saturday afternoons together dis-
cussing the affairs of the Commonwealth ; they
257
St. Jude's
occasionally walked in the West End Park, al-
though women are not given to constitutionals;
they dropped into one another's houses at any
hour if there was business to talk about, and
they spoke to one another on their points of
difiference with great frankness. "Grace," Mrs.
Livingstone would say, "I'm astonished at you ;
you are little better than an Episcopalian." And
Mrs. Wetherspoon would occasionally take her
friend boldly to task. "That, Maria, is pure
havers. You ought to have lived a hundred
years ago." After these playful amenities they
would take tea together with the greatest good
nature. It was an evidence of their close friend-
ship that they called each other by their Chris-
tian names, for Scots people are not given to
reckless and easy-going familiarity. Mrs. Liv-
ingstone did occasionally address her husband
as John, but was never known to condescend
to any pet name, and spoke of one lady, who re-
ferred to her husband as Jack, as being Anglified,
Mrs. Wetherspoon, with the greater freedom
of her manners, called Wetherspoon not infre-
quently Sandie, and Mrs. Livingstone, in the
258
Euodias and Syntyche
secrecy of her mind, would have respected Mr.
Wetherspoon more if he had resented this indig-
nity. His full name was reserved for a crisis, and
if at any time Mrs. Wetherspoon, whose temper
always secured her respect, said Alexander, her
husband knew that he must pay quick and close
attention. In short, so intimate were the two
ladies and so many were the bonds between
them that they might have been called David and
Jonathan if there had not been a disability of
sex, besides the Scots hatred to every form of
sentiment, even with the sanction of the Bible.
When it was whispered in St. Jude's that the
two friends had fallen out the idea was scouted
by all knowing people, and the worthy woman
who had dared, with bated breath, to hint at
such an incredible incident, suffered severely.
By-and-by the whisper grew into a rumor and
flew like wild-fire through the church. It was felt
as if the end of all things was at hand, and
that if Mrs. Livingstone and Mrs. Wetherspoon
had broken up their fast alliance, there was no
security for the stability of any institution and
no guarantee for anyone's character. The Con-
259
St. Jude's
fession of Faith might be abolished to-morrow,
and Mr. Carmichael might be on the eve of join-
ing the Roman Church. The whole fabric of
things was shaken and a general sense of in-
security spread through the Commonwealth. It
was the one subject of conversation in the
various church circles and generally ended in
speculations regarding the cause of this unex-
pected and amazing breach. As is usual in such
cases, the suggestions, to any one who knew
the people, were far wide of the mark. That
a servant had gone from one house to the other
and carried some unfortunate story, as if either
of those two high-spirited women cared one
brass pin for anything a servant said. That Mrs.
Livingstone had given herself airs as an elder's
wife and refused to oblige Mrs. Wetherspoon
with some information because it was session
business and could not be told to the deacons.
As if Mrs. Wetherspoon was concerned that her
husband was not an elder, or wished for herself
the awful and distasteful responsibility of an
cider's wife. That Wetherspoon, in an adven-
turous moment, had stood for the Town Council
260
Euodias and Syntyche
and obtained a seat, and that Mrs. Livingstone
felt that this might end in the Lord-Provostship
and place her friend at an unscalable height
above her, while Mr. Livingstone had been sim-
ply besieged by deputations to contest a ward,
and had declined because of the unspiritual
character of Town Councillors, who certainly, as
a class, were more given to feasting than to
praying. That Mrs. Wetherspoon had given a
dance which had been freely spoken of in the
West End for the excellence of the supper and
the good looks of the young people, and that
Mrs. Livingstone was consumed with envy,
jealousy and every evil work over this social
success, while as a matter of fact she had scolded
Mrs. Wetherspoon for this concession to world-
liness, and had concluded by sending a lavish
gift of flowers for the supper-table and coming
round next day under the pretense of speaking
about the mothers' meeting, to receive a full and
particular account of Mrs. Wetherspoon's func-
tion. They were not women to break their
covenant over trifles, like servants' gossip and
municipal politics, and indeed, save in one con-
261
St. Jude's
tingency, one could be certain that they would
have stood together in prosperity and adversity,
through the friction of different opinions and
the details of church work, to their life's end.
There is just one cause which will break up
such a friendship, but it will do so without fail
and without delay. It does not matter who the
women are, or how long they have known one
another, or how loyal they have been to one
another, or how many ties bind them together,
or what mischief a rupture will do, their friend-
ship will be shattered in an hour, if — do my
readers say jealousy, and are they thinking of
their husbands ? Nonsense ! Mrs. Livingstone
considered that Wetherspoon was a useful man
in financial affairs and perfectly inoffensive in his
manners, but she knew that in no circumstances
could she ever have married him, while Mrs.
Wetherspoon had the most profound respect
for Mr. Livingstone as a man and elder, but
frequently offered thanks that she had not been
tied to him as a wife. Mrs. Livingstone even
allowed herself to complain of Wetherspoon be-
cause he had been so fidgety about auditing the
262
Euodias and Syntyche
accounts of the mothers' meeting, and Mrs.
Wetherspoon joined with her friend against her
husband; while Mrs. Wetherspoon had hinted,
not indistinctly, that Livingstone took an over-
austere view of certain social matters, and yet
did not strike a flash of fire from his wife. But
there is one thing you may not do, unless you
wish to make a wreck of friendship perhaps for-
ever, and that is pass the slightest reflection
upon any child to its mother. She, of course,
may speak very frankly about her children to
her intimates, saying, "Of course I know that
Jessie is not pretty or Archie is not clever," but
another person could only offer such a remark at
the peril of his life. Both the ladies knew this
as well as you and I, and while they had taken
the most genuine interest in one another's fam-
ilies they had practiced the most careful reserve,
not only in criticism, but even in conversation.
And Mrs. Wetherspoon to this day has never
been able to explain to her husband or to
herself how she made the great mistake of her
good-natured and fairly tactful life. But upon
her lay the blame of the offense, although on
263
St. Jude's
Mrs. Livingstone lay the responsibility of a sus-
tained and furious indignation. And this is the
verbatim account of the brief dialogue which
did all the mischief.
"By-the-way, Maria, a gentleman who took
me in to dinner last night gave a glowing account
of that new public school at Glenpattock. He
says they have the most magnificent grounds
and the best of air, and that it is the healthiest
school in Scotland. They go in largely for sport,
and many boys who are not very quick with
their heads but good at games get on there
splendidly, and he says that under that kind
of training will turn out quite useful men. I
thought I would mention the matter to you be-
cause the Academy has got such poor playing-
fields, and your Harry is such a swell at games."
"Harry has certainly distinguished himself in
the sports, and I am told, although of course
this may not be correct, that he's one of the
best athletes of his age, but I do not know that
he is what you would call stupid. He is cer-
tainly not first in his class and he may not be
quick, but many who go slowly go surely." And
264
Euodias and Syntyche
there was a frost in Mrs. Livingstone's tone
which chilled Mrs. Wetherspoon.
"Of course you know, Maria, that I didn't
mean anything of that sort ; Harry is a dear
laddie and we are all so fond of him, and I've
often heard Sandie say that he was sure he
would turn out a good business man. I simply
meant that an open-air school of that sort with
lots of cricket and football would suit him to
the ground." And Mrs. Wetherspoon looked
anxiously at her friend, and was alarmed to
notice a slight hardening of the eyes, and a
tightening of the mouth, and the faintest flush
upon the cheek.
"What I understood you to say," replied Mrs.
Livingstone with increasing acerbity — "and I do
not think that I am deaf, although of course I
may not be clever any more than my son — was
that the Glenpattock School, or whatever it is
called, had been built for lads who are too dull
to get any good from other schools, a sort of
home for the feeble-minded, and that immediate-
ly you heard of it you thought of my boy. If
Mr. Livingstone and I had thought it necessary
265
St. Jude's
to send Harry to such an institution I dare say
we would have found one for ourselves."
"How can you put such a meaning upon my
words, Maria, as if I had spoken of your boy
as feeble-minded. You will be saying next that
I called Harry an idiot. You and I have been
friends for a long time, and we have often had
arguments, and I never knew you to be so un-
reasonable and unjust. But you surely do not
mean what you are saying?"
"It was not I began the conversation, and I
certainly would never dream of telling you where
to send your boys to school, especially to places
like Glenpattock. I suppose it's a kind of refuge
from the way you talk, or a reformatory. I may
be unjust, though you are the first person who
has called me so, and my boy may be an idiot,
as you have just hinted, but you will allow his
father and myself to make the best arrange-
ments we can for his education." And although
Mrs. Wetherspoon remained for half an hour
and, as she described it figuratively to her hus-
band, "explained till I was breathless, and
pleaded with her upon my bended knees," Mrs.
266
Euodias and Syntyche
Livingstone was immovable, and the two friends
parted in very strained relations.
Mrs. Wetherspoon had no sooner reached
home than she wrote a letter of twelve pages,
and mostly in one sentence, explaining that all
she had done was through friendship; that she
would never dream of calling Harry Living-
stone any horrid name ; that she had gone away
most miserable ; that she was sure she would
cry all night ; that she never thought her old
friend would turn against her so suddenly, and
that she hoped she would send her a line saying
that the misunderstanding was over, and that
they were as good friends as ever. This might
have been written on two pages, and been quite
intelligible. As it was repeated in various forms
and in defiance of all the laws of grammar, with
no punctuation, over twelve pages, it became
almost incoherent, but left the impression on
Mrs. Livingstone's mind that Mrs. Wetherspoon
had called Harry a number of horrid names, of
which she could now remember several ; and that
when she, Mrs. Livingstone, had offered the
most mild and courteous remonstrance that ever
267
St. Jude's
fell from a mother's lips, Mrs. Wetherspoon had
accused her of ingratitude for their old friend-
ship, and most unladylike language. So she an-
swered in a brief note, and instead of writing
"Grace," she wrote, "My dear Mrs. Wether-
spoon." The other replied next morning, re-
peating all she had said before, and aggra-
vating the offense by denying that she had
used the word idiot, and finished by showing
the faintest trace of temper on her own
account, as one who had been wilfully misun-
derstood and unkindly spoken to, and she
began her letter with "My dear Mrs. Living-
stone." Mrs. Livingstone contented herself in
her answer with eight pages, in which she re-
ferred to the language which Mrs. Wetherspoon
had used about her son, and which she accepted
as a deliberate insult. And with regard to the
unkindness, she reminded Mrs. Wetherspoon
that it was she who was responsible for the
whole aflfair. This time she dropped "my," and
confined herself to "Dear Mrs. Wetherspoon."
That afternoon, and before Wetherspoon got
home from his office, Mrs. Wetherspoon had
268
Euodias and Syntyche
sent a letter, this time only of six pages, in
which she declared that she had never insulted
any one in her life, and the last person she
would have wished to insult was Mrs, Living-
stone ; that she had always considered that lady
her friend, although in this she might now be
mistaken ; and that she had always appeared to
get a welcome in Mrs. Livingstone's house, al-
though she supposed now the wish was father
to the thought ; and that, in regard to the begin-
ning of the quarrel, she was bound to say, al-
though she did it with regret, that she regarded
it as nothing but a piece of bad temper on the
part of Mrs. Livingstone. This letter, of course,
began "Dear Mrs. Livingstone." The reply was
sent by messenger that evening in order that it
might be digested in the night watches, and in
face of a strong protest from Mr. Livingstone.
It ran as follows : "Mrs. Livingstone presents
her compliments to Mrs. Wetherspoon, and de-
clines to have any further correspondence with
that lady." And had not Wetherspoon exercised
his authority for once, in a very determined
fashion, a reply would have gone to Mrs. Liv-
269
St. Jude's
ingstone, even though her household had to be
roused to receive it that night, explaining that
she not only did not wish to write to Mrs. Living-
stone, but that she never wished to speak to her
again. This final flight of letter writing her hus-
band prevented, but Mrs. Wetherspoon wept
herself to sleep, and Wetherspoon knew that
there was to be big, black trouble, not only for
the women, but for their husbands.
Persons who cultivate a philosophical habit
and argue about affairs as if they were seated
in a diving-bell in the depths of the ocean, point
out that a husband need not be involved in his
wife's quarrel, if he does not approve of it, and
that it is his duty to take up a neutral attitude.
As if ! Of course Livingstone and Wetherspoon
were not only greatly vexed, but in the secret
of their hearts bitterly ashamed of their wives'
explosion, and neither of them, always in the
secret of their hearts, believed that there was
any reasonable ground for the quarrel — men
never do believe that about women's quarrels.
Livingstone ventured to hint to his spouse that
she surely had misunderstood Grace Wether-
270
Euodias and Syntyche
spoon, and his belief that in no circumstances
would that good-natured woman call their boy
Harry an idiot. But when the partner of his
joys and sorrows retorted that the only other
explanation was that she must be an idiot, he
allowed the discussion to drop. Wetherspoon, in
the most conciliatory manner, put it to his help-
meet whether she had not got a little heated
and allowed her temper to master her in the
last chapter of the correspondence ; but when his
life-companion asked him whether after all those
years he was going to side with that termagant,
Maria Livingstone, against his own wife, he
made an abrupt retreat. When the men met in
the city it was with an uneasy manner and a
comic look of mutual sympathy. Neither dared
to say a word which would commit himself or
his wife, but the code on their faces being inter-
preted, ran thus : "Those women. Of course
there is no reason for all this uproar, but no
words of ours can put out the flame; we are
quite as good friends as ever, but we must
stand each by his own wife, so let us pass with
a nod instead of speaking and assume a con-
271
St. Jude's
strained manner when we meet in company. But
you and I, old man, are just the same friends as
before. It is our little burden and we must
shoulder it."
Carmichael, with the dew of his youth still
upon him and that confidence of wisdom which
is the monopoly of persons under thirty years
of age, took the settlement of the quarrel in
hand, and went to deal with the two matrons, to
the great amusement of his wife. Both ladies re-
ceived him with cold and careful courtesy, and
both expressed their deep regret for the breach
of friendship ; both listened to Carmichael's ac-
count of the injury which the rupture of those
two notabilities was causing in the church life
of St. Jude's, with a consideration and polite
regret which were very encouraging to the min-
ister. When, however, he reached the conclusion
of the whole matter and pressed for a reconcilia-
tion in which he was willing to be the mediator,
Mrs. Livingstone explained that as a Christian
woman who would require forgiveness at the
Judgment Day, she freely forgave Mrs. Wether-
spoon, but that she never could again speak to
273
Euodias and Syntyche
a woman who had deliberately called her son an
idiot. And Mrs. Wetherspoon explained to the
minister that she had no grudge against Mrs.
Livingstone and would always be willing to do
her a good turn if she could, but that she would
never willingly be in the same room with a
woman who had knowingly perverted her words,
and accused her of insulting her family. Car-
michael was not easily abashed, but after listen-
ing to his two parishioners, and after consider-
ing the form of their countenance, he went home
to Kate a much humbler man, and he learned in
that day that it may be difficult to reconcile the
will of the Deity with the freedom of the human
will, but that it is much more difficult to make
peace between two angry women, which was a
very wholesome lesson for a callow young min-
ister. That is how the breach was made, but
the healing thereof is another story.
Whether the quarrel between Mrs. Living-
stone and Mrs. Wetherspoon could be consid-
ered a little fire, it was a great matter which it
kindled in St. Jude's, and no department of the
church life was hid from the heat thereof. When
273
St. Jude's
it was known that the disruption was final, and
that the two families — though of course that
only meant the two women — were determined
belligerents, it was necessary to readjust various
church arrangements. Mrs. Wetherspoon im-
mediately resigned the secretaryship of the la-
dies' missionary society, but Mrs. Livingstone
had anticipated her by retiring from the presi-
dency, for both those devoted Christian workers
felt it impossible to meet under the same roof,
no room was now big enough to hold them to-
gether. Mr. Livingstone now absented himself
from the deacons' court, in which as an elder
he had a right to be present, and of course his
real reason was that he had been accustomed to
sit next his old friend, and he did not care to
take such a marked step as changing his seat ;
but he casually explained that he'd always
thought it unfair, although quite constitutional,
that elders should not only attend their own
court, but also swamp the deacons in theirs. The
rota of office-bearers who stood behind the col-
lection plate at the church door on Sundays had
to be changed, because those two excellent men
274
Euodias and Syntyche
had been assigned at their own wish to the
same day, that they might have a friendly but
subdued talk together while they stood like
graven images at the receipt of custom. The one
concern in appointing a committee used to be
that the most suitable men were selected, but
now it was that those two names should be kept
separate. It was customary in those days that
a host and hostess gave two dinners in succes-
sion, for various practical reasons of meats and
drinks and servants and such-like details, but the
arrangement had now a new convenience, be-
cause the Livingstones could be asked on the
Thursday and the Wetherspoons on the Friday.
A Gentile family who did not know what had
happened within the Israel of St. Jude's includ-
ed them both among the guests of one evening,
and the things which happened are too painful
to be related for family reading. Both families
timed their arrival at the church so that there
might be no danger of meeting; but one morn-
ing there was a miscalculation in time, and the
two ladies entered the vestibule at the same
moment, with heads erect, seeing nothing but
275
St. Jude's
a distant imaginary landscape, while their
shame-stricken and miserable husbands shambled
in the rear. Parties were formed and pursued
a guerilla warfare, one accusing Mrs. Wether-
spoon of an insolence which no mother of a
family could take at her hands, and the other
describing the pride of Mrs. Livingstone as be-
ing beyond the endurance even of a Christian
martyr. Incidents were invented and phrases
were coined and a rich and varied legend began
to gather round the feud of the Livingstones and
the Wetherspoons. During all this time there
were not two more unhappy women in the city,
and although both matrons denied indignantly
any desire for reconciliation, they would have
given a considerable portion of their substance if
things were with them as in the days of old.
When the breach became a fact Mrs. Living-
stone treated it very seriously, as if it were a
disagreement between two nations, and laid
down laws for what might be called the humane
conduct of the war. She explained to her hus-
band that whatever might have happened be-
tween her and Grace Wetherspoon, she had
276
Euodias and Syntyche
made up her mind that the conflict should be
confined to themselves ; for her part she would
discuss the matter with no person, and would
never mention Mrs. Wetherspoon's name either
abroad or in the bosom of her family, with the
practical result that the long-suffering man heard
the case reviewed every second night in camera.
None of her friends were to be in any way in-
fluenced by this unfortunate misunderstanding
between Mrs. Wetherspoon and herself; at the
same time she treated with marked coldness any
one who showed the slightest sympathy with
the other side. Above all, the young people of
the families must not be involved in this con-
flict of their mothers, but she was sure that Mrs.
Wetherspoon would not wish to see any of the
Livingstones in her house, or would allow any of
the Wetherspoons to come to Mrs. Livingstone's
house. There was a pretense of keeping the
matter from the children, but they very soon
got an inkling of it and put two and two to-
gether by that instinct, rather than under-
standing, which is given to young people.
The girls, sad to say, entered into the situation
277
St. Jude's
with zest, and showed considerable skill in say-
ing disagreeable things and conveying by their
manner a sense of just indignation, but the boys
behaved in a characteristic, blundering, shameful
fashion. They played their games in perfect
good-fellowship and m^de joint visits to the
tuck-shop with undiminished cordiality, and fol-
lowed out any common quarrels with the most
perfect loyalty, and the worst offender in this
indifference to a family feud was the cause of it
all, that unfortunate lad, Harry Livingstone.
When his sisters said spiteful things about the
Wetherspoons, he called them "cats," and when
they retorted that Mrs. Wetherspoon had called
him an idiot, he said frankly that he believed it
was a beastly cram, and then, with a fine want
of logic, that if she did, he didn't care, for he
had been called a lot worse names by his form
master; that Mrs. Wetherspoon was the jolliest
woman in the whole West End ; and he didn't
know any house where there were better tea-
cakes; and that if any one could show him a
better bat than the one she had given him at
his birthday last year, and with which he had run
278 .
Euodias and Syntychc
up a score of forty-two not out, in the inter-
school match, he would go a long distance to
see it. He even declared that the whole quarrel
was disgusting tommy-rot, and that he wasn't
going to give up the Wetherspoons for any-
body. With that extraordinary genius of boys
for picking up the things in a sermon which they
ought not to hear, and bringing them out at the
most inconvenient season, Harry crowned all his
iniquity by asking the assembled family one day
whether Christians ought not to forgive one
another, as Carmichael had been preaching for
all he was worth that forenoon, and if they
weren't going to forgive Mrs. Wetherspoon, how
his sisters could have the impudence to repeat
the Lord's Prayer? This unexpected outbreak
of practical theology was felt to be intolerable,
and, under the guidance of his wife's eye, Mr.
Livingstone rebuked Harry for meddling with
things which he did not understand, and told him
plainly that, for a boy, those easy allusions to
the Lord's Prayer were nothing short of pro-
fanity, and must not be repeated at that table.
When his mother took him aside afterward
279
St. Jude's
and told him how much she had been hurt by his
words, and that she had always thought until that
day that he loved her, Harry was absolutely
confounded, and resolved to return to his old
habit in church of paying no attention to ser-
mons, as they were evidently beyond the com-
prehension of all persons under, say, thirty
years of age, and occupying his mind with a re-
view of the cricket matches of the season.
Mrs. Livingstone felt, however, that there was
no limit to the mischief which Harry, with his
unnatural affection for Mrs. Wetherspoon and
his heterodox ideas of Christian forgiveness,
might not do, and when she found that at the
spring holidays he was going to leave his family
of white mice under the charge of a friendly ser-
vant at the Wetherspoons' house, she felt that
as a Christian and a mother, and from the high-
est sense of duty, she must make a stand.
"Harry," she said, "in consequence of your
conduct I must touch upon a matter which is
very painful to me, and which I have tried to
keep from the family. Mrs. Wetherspoon has
acted in a way which I shall not describe, and
280
Euodias and Syntyche
which I never could have expected ; while she
continues in her present state of mind it is im-
possible for me to meet her, and I do not think
It would be right. We cannot, you know, Harry,
forgive any person unless she is penitent, and
that is the reason why I am obliged to act in
this way to Mrs. Wetherspoon. You will under-
stand this better when you are older, Harry, and
you must just believe that I have no alternative
as a Christian, and that what I am doing is really
for Mrs. Wetherspoon's own good. And so,
Harry" — which was rather an abrupt descent
from the high level on which she had been pro-
cessing — "I must ask you not to take your mice
to Mrs. Wetherspoon's."
"All right, mother. I can't get the hang of
things, and I suppose you know best. I can
easily board out the beasties at some other place ;
there are lots of chaps who are not going to the
seaside just now, and they'll be jolly-well glad to
have them." But as Harry had promised to take
the mice that evening to Mrs. Wetherspoon's,
who was one of the few women not afraid of
mice, and who used to allow them to run over
281
St. Jude's
her and hide themselves in her sleeves, Harry,
y^lth some qualms of conscience, made a clandes-
tine visit, and in a shamefaced manner explained
the situation,
"Of course you must do v^^hat your mother
tells you, Harry, and I don't know any boy who
has a better mother. I'm awfully sorry about all
this, but I only want to say to you that we feel
just the same to you, and that we hope you'll
have an A I holiday."
"I say, Mrs. Wetherspoon," and Harry fum-
bled with his cap and grew very red in the
face, "I wish that I could — you know what I
mean — but there isn't much a chap can do, but I
want awfully."
"I know what you mean, Harry, and when
the trouble's over no one will be so glad as you."
And Mrs. Wetherspoon would have kissed him,
but that would have been offensive.
"I was so sorry, Sandie, for Harry Living-
stone this evening," when she told the incident.
"Whether he's clever or not, he is one of the
decentest fellows, I am certain, in the whole
academy; he's so honest and straight, and sen-
282
Euodias and Syntyche
sible and manly. But I'm afraid it will take older
and wiser people than poor Harry to restore the
past." But it was Harry who did it after all.
There were many theories about the outbreak
of typhoid fever in the West End of the city
that summer, and the newspapers gave the hos-
pitality of their columns to every correspondent
not hopelessly unintelligible or obviously insane.
It was said to have been caused by the milk,
which was brought from a farm where the sani-
tation was of that easy-going kind characteristic
of rural homesteads last century ; that it was the
result of a new drainage scheme, full of strange
contrivances, and over which the parties in the
Council had hotly fought ; that it had been
brought to the city by rats from Germany, and
afforded another instance of the folly of allow-
ing such a free importation of foreign articles;
that it could be traced to the excessive use of
ice cream made by ItaHans of uncleanly habits.
There were other theories — thirty-seven in all —
and fifteen resolutions were passed by various
bodies more or less scientific, but our concern
is with the fact that typhoid somehow or other
383
St. Jude's
broke out in a great many homes, and that one
of the worst cases was that of Harry Living-
stone.
It is a slow and very treacherous disease, and
no one can say for a while how things are going
and then, when the patient is recovering, it can
play such tricks and make such unexpected at-
tacks that no one is certain whether he may not
be taken ofi in the end. As soon as it was known
that Harry was down, Mrs. Wetherspoon was
anxious, but as her wrath against Mrs. Living-
stone was still burning fiercely she did not dream
of opening any direct communication, nor would
she go the length of employing her husband as a
scout. She knew just as well as Mrs. Living-
stone that the two men were sick nigh unto death,
and openly ashamed before the city, of this feud,
and she suspected that they saw one another
from time to time and exchanged condolences ;
but there are things which a wise woman will not
notice or mention. Mrs. Wetherspoon, there-
fore, established an elaborate intelligence depart-
ment, and by means of the tradespeople, and by
the occasional use of the servants, and by calling
284
Euodias and Syntyche
on friends who belonged to no party and lived
in the neutral zone, and by questioning her own
doctor, who was a neighbor of the Livingstones'
doctor, she obtained daily bulletins, partially
trustworthy, of Harry's condition. When
through those varied and sometimes contradic-
tory sources of information she learned that the
case was serious, and that as the crisis ap-
proached he seemed very weak, she determined
on stronger steps, and made a new departure.
"Sandie," she said suddenly to her husband
one evening after dinner, "Mrs. Govan, the green
grocer, told me that the Livingstones' cook had
been in her shop this morning and gave a bad
account of poor Harry. The fever has been very
severe, and the doctors take an anxious view
of the case. Could you manage to come across
Mr. Livingstone to-morrow and get the real
truth from him? After our own laddies there's
no boy in the city I like so much as Harry Liv-
ingstone, and I can't forget that evening when
he came here and said he wanted to make up the
quarrel. I will not on any account write to Mrs.
Livingstone, in case she should say I had in-
285
St. Jude's
suited her again, and I will not send to the house,
for I suppose that would not be acceptable. But
I want you to find out how it goes with Harry."
From that time Wetherspoon went openly
twice a day to Livingstone's office, in the morn-
ing when Livingstone had arrived from home,
and in the afternoon when information had
come down, to inquire for Harry. There is not
much passes between men, for in their times of
trouble they are almost inarticulate, but as the
reports grew darker there was no mistake about
the concern on the visitor's face, and one after-
noon he shook hands with Livingstone as he
was leaving and murmured incoherently, "Well,
must be going. Fine lad, Harry ; all love him at
our house. The wife is very anxious. Wonder
how long this hot weather will continue? Please
God he will recover." Which was not very gram-
matical, and rather irrelevant, but quite suffi-
cient.
"Thank you, Wetherspoon, very friendly call-
ing this way. Mrs. Wetherspoon always fond of
Harry. The country's needing rain. More news
about three o'clock." Which was also rather
286
Euodias and Syntyche
confused, but quite sufficient for two male
animals.
When Wetherspoon brought home this omi-
nous report and gave an impressionist sketch of
Livingstone's unconcealed anxiety, Mrs. Wether-
spoon broke one of the resolutions which she
had laid down with great firmness, and that even-
ing a housemaid went to the Livingstones' to
inquire for Harry. She was instructed to give no
name and no information, but to obtain as par-
ticular an account as she could how it fared with
the lad at the close of the day. It was the par-
lormaid who was sent next morning with the
same safeguards, so that no one in the opposite
camp might know whence those spies had come,
and in the evening the cook took up the duty.
For three days Mrs. Wetherspoon's own per-
sonal scouts brought her word morning, noon
and night, while in the evening her husband re-
inforced her with news from Livingstone's own
lips. No one outside the Livingstones' house
could have been more distressed or more eager
for intelligence. And when on the fourth day
the reports were gloomy in the extreme, and
287
St. Jude's
Wetherspoon declared his belief, from what he
had heard from the father and the sight of his
face, that Harry was dying, his wife, after a brave
show of composure, gave up dinner and could
not conceal her distress. In any circumstances
she would have keenly felt the situation, for
Harry had always been a great favorite with her,
but it doubled her regret that it was this lad,
whom she thought so much of, that she was
supposed to have called by an opprobrious
name ; and now if the report be true he was
dying. He was such a good-looking, modest, un-
affected, civil lad, who had always played the
game and always did the right thing; he had
come so often to the house, bringing his mice
and other pets ; he had always joined her on the
cricket field when his side were in, and chatted
with her; he had often stayed with them at the
seaside, and gone excursions with them.
To think, that over Harry they had stormed,
and that he had tried to be the healer of the
quarrel. And now he was battling for his life,
and it would not matter to him soon what he
was called, or how they quarreled, for his little
288
Euodias and Syntyche
share of life would be done. The pathos of it
came over Mrs. Wetherspoon, who had some-
thing of the Celt's quick and impulsive nature,
and she rose suddenly as if a thought had stung
her, and left the room to break her word for the
second time. Putting on a hat which she wore at
the seaside, and an old shawl, she hurried like
one to whom every minute is precious, down
their terrace and round the comer, and up the
terrace behind, till she came to the Livingstones'
door. Standing on the street she looked up at
the house, every room of which she knew, and
identified the bedroom where Harry was lying.
She constructed the scene within ; the wasted
form, the pinched, unconscious face, the faint
moaning, the constant restlessness, the nurse
and mother by the bed, the father going out and
in, the family in the rooms below speaking in
whispers, learning their lessons for a few min-
utes and then giving them up, moving about here
and there. For a moment she hesitated, and then
she mounted the steps and gently rang the bell.
The servant who opened the door, a sympathetic
West Highlander whom she knew, recognized
289
St. Jude's
her, and at the sight of Mrs. Wetherspoon,
through the conflict of various emotions, began
to weep.
"How is Harry?" asked Mrs. Wetherspoon
without preHminaries, for other things were be-
ginning to be forgotten. "Is he still alive ?"
"He iss breathing, and that is all they will be
telling me. Ochone, but he wass a fine made
lad, and good at the games and a pleasant tongue
he had to man and woman. And it wass you,
Mrs. Wetherspoon, that loved him well."
"Do not say, Morag, that I was here, for there
are reasons why I do not want it known, but I
could not rest till I knew for myself how it went
with Harry. May God spare the laddie, for
there are many who love him." And Mrs. Weth-
erspoon departed swiftly.
As it happened, while they were speaking to-
gether, Mrs. Livingstone, who had been in the
dining-room endeavoring to get what comfort
she could from the doctor, crossed the hall and
caught the sound of her former friend's voice.
She did not hear what she was saying, but she
marked that there was, as it were, the sound of
290
Euodias and Syntyche
tears in her words, and when the door closed she
turned into the drawing-room, whose window
commanded the terrace, for she knew that if it
was Mrs. Wetherspoon she would come that way.
Below the window Mrs. Wetherspoon had halted
for a moment, because — there was no doubt
of it — she was weeping. During Harry's illness
his mother had passed through many moods.
First she was angrier at the thought of how he
had been spoken of; then she grew indifferent
to everything that had happened, as her whole
mind was concentrated on her boy's condition ;
and latterly, as the shadow of death seemed to
be settling upon his face, her heart, full of ten-
derness toward him, embraced all his friends, and
began to grow soft even toward Grace Wether-
spoon. Livingstone had not failed to tell how
anxious Wetherspoon was, and it had come also
to the mother's ears that many indirect inquiries
had been made. The errands of the servants had
not been perfectly concealed, and now Grace her-
self had swallowed her pride and forgotten her
anger, and at this late hour was inquiring in per-
son for the lad, and was broken by the bad news.
291
St. Jude*s
When Mrs. Livingstone went upstairs and
prayed that it might be God's will to spare her
son, she did so with a more Christian heart than
for a year past. Early next morning, before nine
o'clock, Mrs. Wetherspoon was again at the
door. When she was told that Harry had taken
a turn for the better through the night, and that
the doctors, who had just left, held out hope that
he might live, she wept for the second time out-
side the Livingstones' door, but now for joy and
not for sorrow. And somehow, whoever was
to blame, this came by-and-by also to Mrs. Liv-
ingstone's ears.
When a strong and clean-blooded lad like
Livingstone gets the turn, he makes quick work
of his recovery. Four weeks from that time,
having grown in strength every day, and having
been seasoned by certain drives with his delighted
mother, he announced his intention of going out
for a walk in the sun along the terrace. And his
mother, knowing the ways of boys and that
nothing would please him better than making
his own little excursion, charged him not to go
far, and to go slowly and to keep in the sun,
393
Euodias and Syntyche
and to come home within fifteen minutes. She
watched him make his cautious way along the
terrace, and then with the adventurousness of
boys, turn round the corner and disappear from
her sight. No doubt he was going to make the
circle of the terrace behind, which happened to
be where the Wetherspoons lived, and to return
the other way, but when the fifteen minutes be-
came twenty, his mother grew nervous, and when
they reached half an hour she went out in search
of him. When he was to be found neither on his
own terrace nor on the Wetherspoons', she knew
not what to make of it, till a strange idea struck
her. He had his own ways and his own thoughts,
as boys have, for there is more sentim.ent in a
boy, though he conceals it in the depths of his
soul, than in seventeen girls, though they pro-
claim it to the heavens. She would not make a
mistake for the world, but she must find where
he was, and it was worth trying. Mrs. Living-
stone came slowly down the other terrace, and
while she seemed to be admiring the garden in
front of the houses, she was really examining
one particular house, especially the bow window
293
St. Jude's
of the drawing-room, for some sign of her boy.
And there, in the blaze of the sun, at ease upon
a couch in the circle of the window, and looking
out at her with bold brazen face, as if he were
in the most natural place in the world, and doing
exactly what he might have been expected to do,
was her prodigal son. Six seconds later — Harry
declared that Mrs. Wetherspoon was the best
sprinter he had ever seen — the door opened, and
Mrs. Wetherspoon cried with exulting voice :
"Harry is here, Maria, and looking amazingly
well. He was wondering when you would turn
up to walk him home, for he was certain you
would guess his whereabouts. Wasn't it sweet of
him to make his first visit to our house?" By this
time Harry was explaining.
"You see, mother, you told me how Mrs.
Wetherspoon had come herself to ask for me,
ever so many times a day, and I thought you
would like me to shuffle round and thank her,
when I got on the warpath again, and we were
just waiting tea till you turned up."
"Grace," said Mrs. Livingstone, "can you ever
forgive me?"
394
Euodias and Syntyche
"It's you, Maria, who must forgive me." They
were both beginning to cry, and they might have
said a lot of foolish things, but Harry, who had
been looking out at the window for a minute,
suddenly turned.
"I don't know how you people are, but I'm
beastly hungry ; and I say, mother, I don't believe
that dear old ass of a doctor would refuse me
a whack at Mrs. Wetherspoon's chocolate cake."
And that was how the breach was healed.
295
H faltbful Stewarb
H JFaitbful StewarD
No one knew him except the minister, and the
elder of his district ; no one spoke to him as
he came and went to church except the church
officer, who judged him by the standard of reg-
ular attendance and regarded him with marked
respect; no one missed him when he did not
appear in his usual place, except the other people
in the pew. Thirty-five years ago he took the
sitting next the wall in No. 41, and there he sat
at morning and evening service from January
to December, except two Sundays in August,
when he went on a holiday. He was. first to
enter the Kirk, and the last to leave; he was
never absent on the worst winter evening from
the Wednesday service, where he had also his
own place, and if there were any special serv-
ice he was sure to be present. To all the funds
he contributed finely graduated sums, which
showed care and conscience, and if there were
any extraordinary effort he subscribed one
299
St. Jude's
guinea. No one took a deeper interest in the
welfare of St. Jude's, but he never offered any
suggestion to the officers of the church. No
one could be a more devout or intelHgent wor-
shiper, but he never wrote a single letter to the
minister. When he died, besides the people in
the pew, the minister missed that faithful figure
from its place, and »for months Carmichael
looked unconsciously for the absent gray head.
Quietly he came, quietly he passed ; his very
name, James Sim, was retiring and unassuming,
yet no one in St. Jude's fulfilled his life trust
more honestly or more successfully.
His calling was that of a bookkeeper in a
large firm, and this office is one by itself, and
separates a man from his fellows. The other
clerks are in the main current of the river, and
no one knows in what distant port their ship
may land, for they may become the agents of
their firm abroad, or even rise to be its rulers.
They are men who have varied interests and
see much of life. They are in the midst of
things, and deal with men, but the bookkeeper
is withdrawn and solitary ; he has his own room
300
A Faithful Steward
and his own methods, he does not come into
contact with the world, his concern is with docu-
ments, so he grows silent, introspective, with a
mania for exactness and a hatred of turmoil.
For more than a quarter of a century Sim
had been chief bookkeeper of the great East
Indian House, Rothwell Sellars, Purves & Co.,
and long ago he grew into his place. At three
minutes to nine he entered the outer office, two
minutes to nine he disappeared up the iron cork-
screw stair, which was the only means of com-
munication with his room, and it was under-
stood that when the clock stood in the middle of
the figure nine he began his day's work. At one
o'clock, just when the echo of the gun had
died away, he began to come down the stair.
There was a corner in an old-fashioned eating
house where he took the same kind of lunch
every day of the year, and gave exactly the
same tip to the waiter. After luncheon he made
a circular walk of twenty minutes round the
same streets, and arrived in the office at three
minutes to two, resuming work exactly at two
o'clock. At five he reappeared, and he disap-
301
St. Jude's
peared through the outer door at two minutes
past. Neither on his entering nor his departure
did he speak to the general staff, but he always
exchanged a remark on the weather with the
chief cashier, and said how-do-you-do to the
manager. If by any chance he met a partner,
he saluted him with respectful dignity, and he
would acknowledge courteously the salutation
of the commissionaire at the door. The office
timed their watches by his movements, and also
gathered the degree of temperature from his
particular top-coat while every one wished he
could brush his hat as smoothly.
An assistant bookkeeper sat with him in the
mysterious room, but the spell of his environ-
ment was on him, and he would tell little of that
interior. It was understood that the silence was
never broken from nine to one, or from two to
five, except by remarks in business cypher, and
that on the assistant during his first week offer-
ing some irrelevant remark on the sensation of
the day, Mr. Sim had indicated that as a book-
keeper he knew nothing of the matter, and that
within that place the world was shut out and
302
A Faithful Steward
forgotten. Their business was to tabulate the
transactions and strike the profits of their firm.
They were to ask no questions and to answer
none, but to deal with the written facts before
them, and the only exception was if a partner
wished to know some information. In such a
case Mr. Sim came downstairs and went into
the partner's room with solemnity and returned
like one who had been at a cabinet meeting.
Bank holidays and other times of occasional
idleness he was understood to regard with dis-
favor, considering that an annual rest in autumn
was sufficient for a properly constituted busi-
ness man. There was a legend among the
junior clerks that the bookkeeper came to the
office on bank holiday and did some mysterious
business in his room, inventing new methods of
bookkeeping or reading over the books of past
years for his relaxation. As a matter of fact he
went for a long and solitary walk in the coun-
try, partly because he loved its quietness, and
partly because he wished to use his leisure con-
scientiously, being a man of order and prin-
ciple in all things.
303
St. Jude's
The manager, who used to receive excuses for
absence from members of the staff with cynical
criticism, and who allowed himself to write let-
ters of strong suggestion regarding the neces-
sity of resisting illness, and the duty of return-
ing to work, was gravely alarmed when a note
came from the bookkeeper expressing in formal
terms his regret that for the first time during
his connection with Rothwells he was unable
through sickness to be present at his post. When
three days had passed and Mr. Sim had not
appeared, the manager, a man of imperfect sym-
pathies and uncompromising manner, was so
shaken that he went far out of his way to in-
quire for the bookkeeper's health.
He left the house with a grave face, and
three days afterwards when the news of Mr.
Sim's death came it did not take him by sur-
prise. His last illness was quite orderly and
uneventful. The doctor came to see him once
a day and then twice a day for a week, and on
the last day brought a consultant. Mr. Sim
was very courteous and grateful, but made no
special inquiries as to his condition ; he lay
304
A Faithful Steward
quietly and gave as little trouble as possible to
his faithful landlady with whom he had lived for
many years. When she asked whether he wished
to send for any friend, he explained that he
had no relatives and that he should not dream
of troubling any one in the office, because the
heads of departments had enough to do, and
with juniors the bookkeeper had no intercourse.
The day before the end he asked his landlady,
if it were not too much trouble, to send his
compliments to Mr. Carmichael, of St. Jude's,
and to say that if he were passing in that direc-
tion and could make it convenient to call, Mr.
James Sim would be greatly obliged. Carmichael
was devoutly thankful that he took this formal
and colorless message seriously, and that he
met his faithful adherent once more before he
lost him forever.
When the minister saw the look in his parish-
ioner's eyes he knew at once that the sickness
was unto death, and that this was to be their
first and last meeting, but nothing could be
calmer or more restrained than their conversa-
tion. Having apologized for this additional call
305
St. Jude^s
upon his time, and having thanked the minister
for his prompt response, Mr. Sim explained that
he had had the privilege of attending St, Jude's
Church for many years, and that he had received
much personal benefit from Mr. Carmichael's
ministrations — "both in the devout conduct of
worship, if I may be allowed to say so, and in
the able exposition of divine truth." He de-
clined to speak about his illness, for all his life
he had obliterated himself, and preferred to
express his good wishes for St. Jude's Church
and its minister. He seemed pleased when Car-
michael offered prayer, and said Amen with
great reverence. He also repeated the Lord's
Prayer with the minister, and desired him to
give the benediction. He bade Carmichael good-
bye with a slightly softened accent, and was
concerned that he should be properly shown out.
Before the minister left the room, Mr. Sim gave
him one long look, in which for an instant the
mask of a bookkeeper dropped from his face,
and he said: "Mr. Carmichael, pardon me, but
though you do not know me, I . . . . love you."
When Carmichael returned next morning he
306
A Faithful Steward
saw from the landlady's face that Mr. Sim had
spoken his last word to him, and when he stood
in the death chamber the pathos of that quiet
life and that tender heart came over him, and
the minister wept for the death of a true and
unknown friend.
It was in keeping with Mr. Sim's character
that he should have carefully arranged his little
affairs and made provision for every event. A
lawyer called that afternoon upon the minister
to make arrangements for the funeral, but he
knew Httle more than Carmichael about his
client. "A highly respectable man," said the
lawyer, "who held a responsible position, but
very retiring in disposition, and without friends.
In the instructions which he gave me some time
ago he desired that there should be only one
mourning coach, and that you and the elder of
the district, for whose name and address I shall
be greatly obliged, the manager of the firm and
myself, should be the only persons present at
the funeral. I consider those instructions abso-
lute, and have called to fix the day and time."
Carmichael agreed that it was in keeping with
307
St. Jude's
the man that everything should be done quietly,
and that the presence of the manager should be
understood to represent the office ; but he sug-
gested that there might be some person who
knew Mr. Sim, and who would like to be pres-
ent. If the lawyer did not object, when the no-
tice of death was put in the paper, the hour at
which the funeral would leave Mr. Sim's lodg-
ings might be mentioned. After careful consid-
eration the lawyer agreed that this was not an
invitation, and as nobody was likely to come,
could do no injury. And in those terms the
notice of Mr. James Sim's death appeared in the
morning paper, and was repeated again in the
evening paper. That was the only reference
ever made to Mr. James Sim in the public prints
and the only formal record of his history, unless
many years before some paper had announced
his birth. Certainly he was born, and he did live
sixty-five years, and after this fashion he died.
When Carmichael arrived with his elder on the
morning of the funeral, the modest hearse and
single mourning coach touched his heart. It
seemed to him one of the tragedies of life that
308
A Faithful Steward
this faithful soul who had done his duty so
thoroughly and uncomplainingly should be laid
to rest without a wreath of gratitude from his
fellows, and he climbed the stairs with a de-
pressed mind. Before he reached the door he
heard steps behind him, and a respectably-
dressed man, like a foreman engineer, asked
him in an accent which could be cut with a
knife, whether this was the place where Mr.
Sim had lived, and explained that he I'ad come
to his burial. Standing on the landing, and be-
fore he entered the house, the engineer told his
story and explained his presence. "Ye must
understand, sir, that w^hen I was a young lad I
attended the class he held in a room in Rorison
street. For twenty year he rented that bit room
and gave the best education he could to maybe
half a dozen laddies in reading, writin' and
'rithmetic, with a touch of bookkeeping, and
juist a look into mathematics. He didna say
much, and he was very strict, but my word the
trouble he took and the time he gave to laddies
that had no claim on him, and whom he picked
up from the district."
309
St. Jude's
They were still standing on the landing, and
Carmichael invited the engineer to continue, for
the honest man had evidently much to say.
"When a laddie would come to fifteen Mr.
Sim would go roond the city to get him a situa-
tion, maybe as a clerk, or maybe as a workman.
It didna matter how long it took him, or how
mony rebuffs he got, he was terrible perseverin',
and he aye succeeded. But nae doubt ye know
aboot this yersel', for I'm believin' you were
his minister."
"Never heard one word of it," said Car-
michael, "and I don't believe anybody except
you and his laddies know ; I want to hear every-
thing before I go in. So he got you all places
after he'd educated you?"
"That he did," said the engineer with em-
phasis. "I'll be bound Mr. Sim started dozens o'
laddies in their life work. Man," and the engi-
neer grew very enthusiastic, "I mind fine when
he said to me in his precise way, 'Thomas, I am
glad to tell you that Messrs. Leslie & Co., the
large engineers, have agreed to take you as an
apprentice without any premium. You will tell
310
I
A Faithful Steward
your mother of this excellent opportunity, and
you are to go to work at six o'clock next Mon-
day ; and I trust, with the blessing of God, that
you will have a prosperous and successful
career.' I can repeat every word, sir; ye dinna
forget the likes o' that.
"Na, na," for the engineer was now at full
steam ahead, "my father was dead, and there
was nobody to help me. When I told my mother
that night she fairly grat, and as long as she
lived, and she was a gude woman and had a
sair fecht, she aye mentioned Mr. Sim's name in
her prayers.
"More than that, he never forgot ye after-
wards ; and mony a letter of advice I've had
from him when I was far awa'. Now I've got a
shore appointment, and I've a wife and three
bairns. I'm expectin' some day to be chief en-
gineer of the fleet, and I tell you, sir, I owe
everything to the man we've come to bury."
And Carmichael hurried into the house, for it is
not good to look upon a strong man when he
has broken down, and all the more if the tears
be in your own eyes.
311
St. Jude's
It was evident that people had not known Mr.
James Sim, and that there was going to be sur-
prises that day. He had led a double life, and
the other life was going to assert itself after he
had gone.
"There's a splendid fellow outside," he said
to the lawyer, "whom Mr. Sim has simply made,
and who has come to show his gratitude. That
makes five mourners, and I have a strong sus-
picion more will be turning up, for it is still ten
minutes to the hour. One mourning coach is
not enough ; I prophesy you'll need three by the
time the company is gathered — and, look here,
this is going to be real mourning."
As they were speaking a man, say about
thirty, entered, and one knew at once by his
appearance that he was a successful merchant;
there was about him that suggestion of alert-
ness, self-confidence, foresight, integrity. Glanc-
ing round the room he introduced himself to
Carmichael, whom he knew by sight.
"I was shocked to see the notice of Mr.
Sim's death in the paper, for I had no idea he
was ill, and I am thankful to have this oppor-
312
A Faithful Steward
tunity of doing a poor honor to my best bene-
factor. Had it not been for the help he gave
me, a lad without father or mother, in a Httle
class that nobody ever heard of, and the good
advice I received from him in critical years, I
should never have come to my present position.
I am a junior partner in Pride Brothers, whose
name may be known to you as wholesale ware-
housemen. Mr. Sim had only a limited salary,
but he not only paid all the expenses of his little
class, including the rent of the room, the light
and firing and the books, but he helped his boys
afterwards, when they were office lads and ap-
prentices. I know that my first three holidays
were paid out of his pocket. If every man did
as much good as Mr. Sim, this would be a dif-
ferent world." And the merchant was almost as
much moved as the engineer, who was now sit-
ting on the chair next the door staring with
immovable countenance into the eternities.
By this time even the lawyer, a man not given
to imagination or swayed by sentiment, began
to grasp the length and breadth of the private
career of Mr. James Sim, Bookkeeper, and has-
3^3
St. Jude's
tened to arrange for more mourning coaches
and more chairs in the simple sitting-room
where Sim spent his evenings when he was not
out teaching his class or visiting the widows and
the fatherless.
"He was a cautious man," said the landlady
to Carmichael afterward, "and keepit himself to
himself; he never said where he was going or
what he was doing, but he was oot nearly every
nicht on some work of his own, and I knew it
was always gude work. There were times when
young laddies would come to see him here, and
he would have long confabs with them, and puir
respectable women, mostly widows, and I no-
ticed that if they came cast down, they aye
went awa comforted. That cupboard," said
the landlady, "was little better than a grocer's
shop, for he had it filled with pounds o' tea and
sugar, and such like; aye he would have corn-
flour and things like arrowroot for sick folk ; I'm
no saying that he hadna peppermint-drops.
Everything was arranged on the shelves as neat
as you like, and afore he went out I've seen
him slip a packet of this or a packet o' that into
314
A Faithful Steward
his coat tail pocket. But mind ye he didna hke
you to see him takin' things out o' his store, and
I daurna make ony remark. Mr. Sim was pecu-
har in some of his ways, but I'm expectin'
there's mony a hard-working woman, and mony
a strugglin' laddie has blessed his name. What
he did was done in secret, and he would be clean
ashamed if he knew how it had come to the
light o' day."
It certainly did come to the light with a ven-
geance on the day of the funeral, for the wit-
nesses to the work of Mr. Sim came in proces-
sion up the stair down which he had gone on
his evening errand of mercy, till there were no
vacant places in the room, and the overflow had
to sit in the landlady's parlor. Carmichael did his
best to interview each one with brevity and sym-
pathy, for he seemed to be laying the unexpected
wreaths of gratitude and afifection, more last-
ing than Easter lilies, upon the tomb of this
modest, unselfish Christian man. They were
indeed of various kinds and conditions, this
congregation of unaffected mourners. A young
doctor working among the poor in the East end,
315
St. Jude's
whose love of knowledge had been started in
that class room ; a stalwart policeman, who but
for those evenings might have been a criminal,
but instead thereof was a guardian of the
peace ; a substantial tradesman who had worked
his way up from a message boy to his own pro-
vision shop, and in later years used often to
send a parcel of goods for Mr. Sim's distribu-
tion; a young clerk who had just become inde-
pendent of assistance and who had received so
many kindnesses that he was hardly able to play
the man ; a sturdy and reticent stone mason, who
would not be drawn further than this, "I had
gude reason to ken Mr. Sim;" a delicate looking
man who was an assistant in a draper's shop,
whose life had been saved by a visit to the
country, paid for by his old teacher; the third
officer of a sea-going liner who happened to be
in Glasgow at the time, and came to the funeral
of his early friend.
Each man had his own history and his own
debt, and there were many more who had not
heard and perhaps might never hear of their
benefactor's death. Some had gone before him,
316
A Faithful Steward
and he had seen them through their last sickness
— curious to say, this silent and pedantic man
was very welcome and very tactful in the sick-
rooms of those he visited ; some had gone
abroad and were far away, and among Mr. Sim's
papers were letters from every quarter of the
world from his lads on the nitrate fields, on
Western ranches, in Canadian backwoods, in
Eastern cities and almost every colony of the
Empire. Those he had carefully kept and dock-
eted and his landlady found him from time to
time reading them carefully.
Upon Carmichael's suggestion, they waited be-
yond the time to make sure that the last of this
unique company had gathered, and then when
they reached the street it was found that they
numbered not four, but twenty-four. This was
not to be a funeral where empty carriages were
sent as a mark of respect; this day there was
to be a difficulty in accommodating a gathering
of sorrowing friends. The one mourning coach
had been reinforced by two more, but beyond
that cabs had been called into requisition, and
so they started, not with one, but with six car-
317
St. Jude's
riages following the hearse. When they came
to the cemetery and made their way to the quiet
comer where a grave had been selected, an-
other congregation was waiting. It was not
common in those days for women to go to a
funeral in Scotland, and they would not have
dreamed of attending the service in the house.
It was thought unbecoming that women should
be present at such trying functions, lest per-
chance they might break down and disturb the
solemnity, and because the awful and arduous
affairs of life, according to the Scots idea, should
be left in the hands of men.
But round the grave of James Sim a group
of women had gathered, and no one looking at
them could fail to read the reason of their pres-
ence, or would have had the heart to forbid it.
They were aged women who had been his pen-
sioners, widows whom he had comforted in their
straits ; mothers whose sons he had aided, wives
whose husbands owed their all to him. They
were in the best black they could command,
but their garments were only a sign of their
hearts; they carried themselves with dignity as
3i8
A Faithful Steward
Scotswomen try to do on such occasions, not
causing their voices to be heard, nor doing any-
thing to make the duty of the minister harder
than it was, but the tears were flowing silently
as they stood, an outer fringe round the men
at the grave.
Precedence at a Scots funeral is a delicate
question and is carefully adjusted. It is settled
by nearness of kin or marriage relationship, but
this day it solved itself, for the bonds were
those neither of blood, nor marriage, but of love.
This man had no one of his family to do him
the last tribute of respect, but he had made such
good use of his single talent that God was re-
storing it to him with usury.
After the cofiin as they carried it to the
grave, came the four invited mourners and then
the others arranged themselves as they pleased,
giving the first place to the merchant, the engi-
neer, and the doctor. Men and women, they
were gathered, not in answer to a printed letter
on black-edged paper, but in answer to the grati-
tude and the regret of their hearts, and when
loving hands let down James Sim's body into
319
St. Jude's
the grave Carmichael lifted up his voice and
prayed :
"Heavenly Father, who art the source of every
good and beautiful work, being gathered in the
name of the Lord Jesus, and in respect to the
memory of thy faithful servant, James Sim, we
render thee thanks with one heart for his kind-
ness unto widows and orphans, to poor lads and
sick people, whereby he manifested thy love and
commended the faith of thy Son. And we
earnestly beseech thee to shed abroad the same
love in the hearts of thy servants present, and
to bestow upon us the same humility, that we
also may fulfill our stewardship as he has done,
and in the last day may be also accepted of thee
through the merits and intercession of Jesus
Christ our Lord." And many said Amen.
The family which he had won for himself set
up a simple cross, draped with Easter lilies to
the memory of their benefactor, with this in-
scription,
James Sim.
"Well done, good and faithful servant."
320
H07
THE LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
Santa Barbara
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE
STAMPED BELOW.
lOOM 1 1 /86 Scries 9482
UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY
A A 001 423 893 5
277.97
M16
46653
Maclaren
St. Jude's
jj
277.97
M16
46653