Chương Chương 54 · 第54章
. This move on Ernest’s part was variously commented upon by his friends,
the general opinion being that it was just like Pontifex, who was sure
to do something unusual wherever he went, but that on the whole the
idea was commendable. Christina could not restrain herself when on
sounding her clerical neighbours she found them inclined to applaud her
son for conduct which they idealised into something much more
self-denying than it really was. She did not quite like his living in
such an unaristocratic neighbourhood; but what he was doing would
probably get into the newspapers, and then great people would take
notice of him. Besides, it would be very cheap; down among these poor
people he could live for next to nothing, and might put by a great deal
of his income. As for temptations, there could be few or none in such a
place as that. This argument about cheapness was the one with which she
most successfully met Theobald, who grumbled more _suo_ that he had no
sympathy with his son’s extravagance and conceit. When Christina
pointed out to him that it would be cheap he replied that there was
something in that.
On Ernest himself the effect was to confirm the good opinion of himself
which had been growing upon him ever since he had begun to read for
orders, and to make him flatter himself that he was among the few who
were ready to give up _all_ for Christ. Ere long he began to conceive
of himself as a man with a mission and a great future. His lightest and
most hastily formed opinions began to be of momentous importance to
him, and he inflicted them, as I have already shown, on his old
friends, week by week becoming more and more _entêté_ with himself and
his own crotchets. I should like well enough to draw a veil over this
part of my hero’s career, but cannot do so without marring my story.
In the spring of 1859 I find him writing—
“I cannot call the visible Church Christian till its fruits are
Christian, that is until the fruits of the members of the Church of
England are in conformity, or something like conformity, with her
teaching. I cordially agree with the teaching of the Church of England
in most respects, but she says one thing and does another, and until
excommunication—yes, and wholesale excommunication—be resorted to, I
cannot call her a Christian institution. I should begin with our
Rector, and if I found it necessary to follow him up by excommunicating
the Bishop, I should not flinch even from this.
“The present London Rectors are hopeless people to deal with. My own is
one of the best of them, but the moment Pryer and I show signs of
wanting to attack an evil in a way not recognised by routine, or of
remedying anything about which no outcry has been made, we are met
with, ‘I cannot think what you mean by all this disturbance; nobody
else among the clergy sees these things, and I have no wish to be the
first to begin turning everything topsy-turvy.’ And then people call
him a sensible man. I have no patience with them. However, we know what
we want, and, as I wrote to Dawson the other day, have a scheme on foot
which will, I think, fairly meet the requirements of the case. But we
want more money, and my first move towards getting this has not turned
out quite so satisfactorily as Pryer and I had hoped; we shall,
however, I doubt not, retrieve it shortly.”
When Ernest came to London he intended doing a good deal of
house-to-house visiting, but Pryer had talked him out of this even
before he settled down in his new and strangely-chosen apartments. The
line he now took was that if people wanted Christ, they must prove
their want by taking some little trouble, and the trouble required of
them was that they should come and seek him, Ernest, out; there he was
in the midst of them ready to teach; if people did not choose to come
to him it was no fault of his.
“My great business here,” he writes again to Dawson, “is to observe. I
am not doing much in parish work beyond my share of the daily services.
I have a man’s Bible Class, and a boy’s Bible Class, and a good many
young men and boys to whom I give instruction one way or another; then
there are the Sunday School children, with whom I fill my room on a
Sunday evening as full as it will hold, and let them sing hymns and
chants. They like this. I do a great deal of reading—chiefly of books
which Pryer and I think most likely to help; we find nothing comparable
to the Jesuits. Pryer is a thorough gentleman, and an admirable man of
business—no less observant of the things of this world, in fact, than
of the things above; by a brilliant coup he has retrieved, or nearly
so, a rather serious loss which threatened to delay indefinitely the
execution of our great scheme. He and I daily gather fresh principles.
I believe great things are before me, and am strong in the hope of
being able by and by to effect much.
“As for you I bid you God speed. Be bold but logical, speculative but
cautious, daringly courageous, but properly circumspect withal,” etc.,
etc.
I think this may do for the present.