Chapter Chapter 58 · 第58章

. Next day he felt stronger again. He had been listening to the voice of

the evil one on the night before, and would parley no more with such

thoughts. He had chosen his profession, and his duty was to persevere

with it. If he was unhappy it was probably because he was not giving up

all for Christ. Let him see whether he could not do more than he was

doing now, and then perhaps a light would be shed upon his path.

It was all very well to have made the discovery that he didn’t very

much like poor people, but he had got to put up with them, for it was

among them that his work must lie. Such men as Towneley were very kind

and considerate, but he knew well enough it was only on condition that

he did not preach to them. He could manage the poor better, and, let

Pryer sneer as he liked, he was resolved to go more among them, and try

the effect of bringing Christ to them if they would not come and seek

Christ of themselves. He would begin with his own house.

Who then should he take first? Surely he could not do better than begin

with the tailor who lived immediately over his head. This would be

desirable, not only because he was the one who seemed to stand most in

need of conversion, but also because, if he were once converted, he

would no longer beat his wife at two o’clock in the morning, and the

house would be much pleasanter in consequence. He would therefore go

upstairs at once, and have a quiet talk with this man.

Before doing so, he thought it would be well if he were to draw up

something like a plan of a campaign; he therefore reflected over some

pretty conversations which would do very nicely if Mr Holt would be

kind enough to make the answers proposed for him in their proper

places. But the man was a great hulking fellow, of a savage temper, and

Ernest was forced to admit that unforeseen developments might arise to

disconcert him. They say it takes nine tailors to make a man, but

Ernest felt that it would take at least nine Ernests to make a Mr Holt.

How if, as soon as Ernest came in, the tailor were to become violent

and abusive? What could he do? Mr Holt was in his own lodgings, and had

a right to be undisturbed. A legal right, yes, but had he a moral

right? Ernest thought not, considering his mode of life. But put this

on one side; if the man were to be violent, what should he do? Paul had

fought with wild beasts at Ephesus—that must indeed have been awful—but

perhaps they were not very wild wild beasts; a rabbit and a canary are

wild beasts; but, formidable or not as wild beasts go, they would,

nevertheless stand no chance against St Paul, for he was inspired; the

miracle would have been if the wild beasts escaped, not that St Paul

should have done so; but, however all this might be, Ernest felt that

he dared not begin to convert Mr Holt by fighting him. Why, when he had

heard Mrs Holt screaming “murder,” he had cowered under the bed clothes

and waited, expecting to hear the blood dripping through the ceiling on

to his own floor. His imagination translated every sound into a pat,

pat, pat, and once or twice he thought he had felt it dropping on to

his counterpane, but he had never gone upstairs to try and rescue poor

Mrs Holt. Happily it had proved next morning that Mrs Holt was in her

usual health.

Ernest was in despair about hitting on any good way of opening up

spiritual communication with his neighbour, when it occurred to him

that he had better perhaps begin by going upstairs, and knocking very

gently at Mr Holt’s door. He would then resign himself to the guidance

of the Holy Spirit, and act as the occasion, which, I suppose, was

another name for the Holy Spirit, suggested. Triply armed with this

reflection, he mounted the stairs quite jauntily, and was about to

knock when he heard Holt’s voice inside swearing savagely at his wife.

This made him pause to think whether after all the moment was an

auspicious one, and while he was thus pausing, Mr Holt, who had heard

that someone was on the stairs, opened the door and put his head out.

When he saw Ernest, he made an unpleasant, not to say offensive

movement, which might or might not have been directed at Ernest and

looked altogether so ugly that my hero had an instantaneous and

unequivocal revelation from the Holy Spirit to the effect that he

should continue his journey upstairs at once, as though he had never

intended arresting it at Mr Holt’s room, and begin by converting Mr and

Mrs Baxter, the Methodists in the top floor front. So this was what he

did.

These good people received him with open arms, and were quite ready to

talk. He was beginning to convert them from Methodism to the Church of

England, when all at once he found himself embarrassed by discovering

that he did not know what he was to convert them from. He knew the

Church of England, or thought he did, but he knew nothing of Methodism

beyond its name. When he found that, according to Mr Baxter, the

Wesleyans had a vigorous system of Church discipline (which worked

admirably in practice) it appeared to him that John Wesley had

anticipated the spiritual engine which he and Pryer were preparing, and

when he left the room he was aware that he had caught more of a

spiritual Tartar than he had expected. But he must certainly explain to

Pryer that the Wesleyans had a system of Church discipline. This was

very important.

Mr Baxter advised Ernest on no account to meddle with Mr Holt, and

Ernest was much relieved at the advice. If an opportunity arose of

touching the man’s heart, he would take it; he would pat the children

on the head when he saw them on the stairs, and ingratiate himself with

them as far as he dared; they were sturdy youngsters, and Ernest was

afraid even of them, for they were ready with their tongues, and knew

much for their ages. Ernest felt that it would indeed be almost better

for him that a millstone should be hanged about his neck, and he cast

into the sea, than that he should offend one of the little Holts.

However, he would try not to offend them; perhaps an occasional penny

or two might square them. This was as much as he could do, for he saw

that the attempt to be instant out of season, as well as in season,

would, St Paul’s injunction notwithstanding, end in failure.

Mrs Baxter gave a very bad account of Miss Emily Snow, who lodged in

the second floor back next to Mr Holt. Her story was quite different

from that of Mrs Jupp the landlady. She would doubtless be only too

glad to receive Ernest’s ministrations or those of any other gentleman,

but she was no governess, she was in the ballet at Drury Lane, and

besides this, she was a very bad young woman, and if Mrs Baxter was

landlady would not be allowed to stay in the house a single hour, not

she indeed.

Miss Maitland in the next room to Mrs Baxter’s own was a quiet and

respectable young woman to all appearance; Mrs Baxter had never known

of any goings on in that quarter, but, bless you, still waters run

deep, and these girls were all alike, one as bad as the other. She was

out at all kinds of hours, and when you knew that you knew all.

Ernest did not pay much heed to these aspersions of Mrs Baxter’s. Mrs

Jupp had got round the greater number of his many blind sides, and had

warned him not to believe Mrs Baxter, whose lip she said was something

awful.

Ernest had heard that women were always jealous of one another, and

certainly these young women were more attractive than Mrs Baxter was,

so jealousy was probably at the bottom of it. If they were maligned

there could be no objection to his making their acquaintance; if not

maligned they had all the more need of his ministrations. He would

reclaim them at once.

He told Mrs Jupp of his intention. Mrs Jupp at first tried to dissuade

him, but seeing him resolute, suggested that she should herself see

Miss Snow first, so as to prepare her and prevent her from being

alarmed by his visit. She was not at home now, but in the course of the

next day, it should be arranged. In the meantime he had better try Mr

Shaw, the tinker, in the front kitchen. Mrs Baxter had told Ernest that

Mr Shaw was from the North Country, and an avowed freethinker; he would

probably, she said, rather like a visit, but she did not think Ernest

would stand much chance of making a convert of him.