Born in Exile (46 page)

'Shall I have the pleasure of hearing this doctrine at St
Margaret's?' Peak inquired.

'In a form suitable to the intelligence of my parishioners,
taken in the mass. Were my hands perfectly free, I should begin by
preaching a series of sermons on
The Origin of species
.
Sermons! An obnoxious word! One ought never to use it. It signifies
everything inept, inert.'

'Is it your serious belief, then, that the mass of parishioners
here or elsewhere—are ready for this form of spiritual
instruction?'

'Most distinctly—given the true capacity in the teacher. Mark
me; I don't say that they are capable of receiving much absolute
knowledge. What I desire is that their minds shall be relieved from
a state of harassing conflict—put at the right point of view. They
are not to think that Jesus of Nazareth teaches faith and conduct
incompatible with the doctrines of Evolutionism. They are not to
spend their lives in kicking against the pricks, and regard as
meritorious the punctures which result to them. The establishment
in their minds of a few cardinal facts—that is the first step. Then
let the interpretation follow—the solace, the encouragement, the
hope for eternity!'

'You imagine,' said Godwin, with a calm air, 'that the mind of
the average church-goer is seriously disturbed on questions of
faith?'

'How can you ignore it, my dear Peak?—Permit me this
familiarity; we are old fellow-collegians.—The average churchgoer
is the average citizen of our English commonwealth,—a man
necessarily aware of the great Radical movement, and all that it
involves. Forgive me. There has been far too much blinking of
actualities by zealous Christians whose faith is rooted in
knowledge. We gain nothing by it; we lose immensely. Let us
recognise that our churches are filled with sceptics, endeavouring
to believe in spite of themselves.'

'Your experience is much larger than mine,' remarked the
listener, submissively.

'Indeed I have widely studied the subject.'

Chilvers smiled with ineffable self-content, his head twisted
like that of a sagacious parrot.

'Granting your average citizen,' said the other, 'what about the
average citizeness? The female church-goers are not insignificant
in number.'

'Ha! There we reach the core of the matter! Woman! woman!
Precisely
there
is the most hopeful outlook. I trust you are
strong for female emancipation?'

'Oh, perfectly sound on that question!'

'To be sure! Then it must be obvious to you that women are
destined to play the leading part in our Christian renascence,
precisely as they did in the original spreading of the faith. What
else is the meaning of the vast activity in female education? Let
them be taught, and forthwith they will rally to our Broad Church.
A man may be content to remain a nullifidian; women cannot rest at
that stage. They demand the spiritual significance of everything.—I
grieve to tell you, Peak, that for three years I have been a
widower. My wife died with shocking suddenness, leaving me her two
little children. Ah, but leaving me also the memory of a singularly
pure and noble being. I may say, with all humility, that I have
studied the female mind in its noblest modern type. I
know
what can be expected of woman, in our day and in the future.'

'Mrs. Chilvers was in full sympathy with your views?'

'Three years ago I had not yet reached my present standpoint. In
several directions I was still narrow. But her prime characteristic
was the tendency to spiritual growth. She would have accompanied me
step by step. In very many respects I must regard myself as a man
favoured by fortune,—I know it, and I trust I am grateful for
it,—but that loss, my dear Peak, counterbalances much happiness. In
moments of repose, when I look back on work joyously achieved, I
often murmur to myself, with a sudden sigh,
Excepto quod non
simul esses, caetera Iaetus
!'

He pronounced his Latin in the new-old way, with Continental
vowels. The effect of this on an Englishman's lips is always more
or less pedantic, and in his case it was intolerable.

'And when,' he exclaimed, dismissing the melancholy thought, 'do
you present yourself for ordination?'

It was his habit to pay slight attention to the words of anyone
but himself, and Peak's careless answer merely led him to talk on
wide subjects with renewal of energy. One might have suspected that
he had made a list of uncommon words wherewith to adorn his
discourse, for certain of these frequently recurred. 'Nullifidian',
'morbific', 'renascent', were among his favourites. Once or twice
he spoke of 'psychogenesis', with an emphatic enunciation which
seemed to invite respectful wonder. In using Latin words which have
become fixed in the English language, he generally corrected the
common errors of quantity: '
minnus
the spiritual fervour',
'acting as his
loccum tennens
'. When he referred to
Christian teachers with whom he was acquainted, they were seldom or
never members of the Church of England. Methodists, Romanists,
Presbyterians appeared to stand high in his favour, and Peak
readily discerned that this was a way of displaying 'large-souled
tolerance'. It was his foible to quote foreign languages,
especially passages which came from heretical authors. Thus, he
began to talk of Feuerbach for the sole purpose of delivering a
German sentence.

'He has been of infinite value to me—quite infinite value. You
remember his definition of God? It is constantly in my mind.
"
Gott ist eine Trane der Liebe, in tiefster Verborgenheit
vergossen uber das menschliche Elend
." Profoundly touching! I
know nothing to approach it.'

Suddenly he inquired:

'Do you see much of the Exeter clergy?'

'I know only the Vicar of St. Ethelreda's, Mr. Lilywhite.'

'Ha! Admirable fellow! Large-minded, broad of sympathies. Has
distinctly the scientific turn of thought.'

Peak smiled, knowing the truth. But he had hit upon a way of
meeting the Rev. Bruno which promised greatly to diminish the
suffering inherent in the situation. He would use the large-souled
man deliberately for his mirth. Chilvers's self-absorption lent
itself to persiflage, and by indulging in that mood Godwin tasted
some compensation for the part he had to play.

'And I believe you know the Warricombes very well?' pursued
Chilvers.

'Yes.'

'Ha! I hope to see much of them. They are people after my own
heart. Long ago I had a slight acquaintance with them. I hear we
shan't see them till the summer.'

'I believe not.'

'Mr. Warricombe is a great geologist, I think?—Probably he
frequents public worship as a mere tribute to social opinion?'

He asked the question in the airiest possible way, as if it
mattered nothing to him what the reply might be.

'Mr. Warricombe is a man of sincere piety,' Godwin answered,
with grave countenance.

'That by no means necessitates church-going, my dear Peak,'
rejoined the other, waving his hand.

'You think not? I am still only a student, you must remember. My
mind is in suspense on not a few points.'

'Of course! Of course! Pray let me give you the results of my
own thought on this subject.'

He proceeded to do so, at some length. When he had rounded his
last period, he unexpectedly started up, swung on his toes, spread
his chest, drew a deep breath, and with the sweetest of smiles
announced that he must postpone the delight of further
conversation.

'You must come and dine with me as soon as my house is in
reasonable order. As yet, everything is
sens dessus-dessous
.
Delightful old city, Exeter! Charming! Charming!'

And on the moment he was gone.

What were this man's real opinions? He had brains and
literature; his pose before the world was not that of an ignorant
charlatan. Vanity, no doubt, was his prime motive, but did it
operate to make a cleric of a secret materialist, or to incite a
display of excessive liberalism in one whose convictions were
orthodox? Godwin could not answer to his satisfaction, but he
preferred the latter surmise.

One thing, however, became clear to him. All his conscientious
scruples about entering the Church were superfluous. Chilvers would
have smiled pityingly at anyone who disputed his right to live by
the Establishment, and to stand up as an authorised preacher of the
national faith. And beyond a doubt he regulated his degree of
'breadth' by standards familiar to him in professional intercourse.
To him it seemed all-sufficient to preach a gospel of moral
progress, of intellectual growth, of universal fraternity. If this
were the tendency of Anglicanism, then almost any man who desired
to live a cleanly life, and to see others do the same, might
without hesitation become a clergyman. The old formulae of
subscription were so symbolised, so volatilised, that they could
not stand in the way of anyone but a combative nihilist. Peak was
conscious of positive ideals by no means inconsistent with
Christian teaching, and in his official capacity these alone would
direct him.

He spent his evening pleasantly, often laughing as he recalled a
phrase or gesture of the Rev. Bruno's.

In the night fell a sprinkling of snow, and when the sun rose it
gleamed from a sky of pale, frosty blue. At ten o'clock Godwin set
out for his usual walk, choosing the direction of the Old Tiverton
Road. It was a fortnight since he had passed the Warricombes'
house. At present he was disposed to indulge the thoughts which a
sight of it would make active.

He had begun the ascent of the hill when the sound of an
approaching vehicle caused him to raise his eyes—they were
generally fixed on the ground when he walked alone. It was only a
hired fly. But, as it passed him, he recognised the face he had
least expected to see,—Sidwell Warricombe sat in the carriage, and
unaccompanied. She noticed him—smiled—and bent forward. He clutched
at his hat, but it happened that the driver had turned to look at
him, and, instead of the salute he had intended, his hand waved to
the man to stop. The gesture was scarcely voluntary; when he saw
the carriage pull up, his heart sank; he felt guilty of monstrous
impudence. But Sidwell's face appeared at the window, and its
expression was anything but resentful; she offered her hand, too.
Without preface of formal phrase he exclaimed:

'How delightful to see you so unexpectedly! Are you all
here?'

'Only mother and I. We have come for a day or two.'

'Will you allow me to call? If only for a few minutes'——

'We shall be at home this afternoon.'

'Thank you! Don't you enjoy the sunshine after London?'

'Indeed I do!'

He stepped back and signed to the driver. Sidwell bent her head
and was out of sight.

But the carriage was visible for some distance, and even when he
could no longer see it he heard the horse's hoofs on the hard road.
Long after the last sound had died away his heart continued to beat
painfully, and he breathed as if recovering from a hard run.

How beautiful were these lanes and hills, even in mid-winter!
Once more he sang aloud in his joyous solitude. The hope he had
nourished was not unreasonable; his boldness justified itself. Yes,
he was one of the men who succeed, and the life before him would be
richer for all the mistakes and miseries through which he had
passed. Thirty, forty, fifty—why, twenty years hence he would be in
the prime of manhood, with perhaps yet another twenty years of
mental and bodily vigour. One of the men who succeed!

On the morning after her journey down from London, Mrs.
Warricombe awoke with the conviction that she had caught a cold.
Her health was in general excellent, and she had no disposition to
nurse imaginary ailments, but when some slight disorder broke the
routine of her life she made the most of it, enjoying—much as
children do—the importance with which for the time it invested her.
At such seasons she was wont to regard herself with a mildly
despondent compassion, to feel that her family and her friends held
her of slight account; she spoke in a tone of conscious
resignation, often with a forgiving smile. When the girls redoubled
their attentions, and soothed her with gentle words, she would
close her eyes and sigh, seeming to remind them that they would
know her value when she was no more.

'You are hoarse, mother,' Sidwell said to her, when they met at
breakfast.

'Am I, dear? You know I felt rather afraid of the journey. I
hope I shan't be laid up.'

Sidwell advised her not to leave the house to-day. Having seen
the invalid comfortably established in an upper room, she went into
the city on business which could not be delayed. On her way
occurred the meeting with Peak, but of this, on her return, she
made no mention. Mother and daughter had luncheon upstairs, and
Sidwell was full of affectionate solicitude.

'This afternoon you had better lie down for an hour or two,' she
said.

'Do you think so? Just drop a line to father, and warn him that
we may kept here for some time.'

'Shall I send for Dr Endacott?'

'Just as you like, dear.'

But Mrs. Warricombe had eaten such an excellent lunch, that
Sidwell could not feel uneasy.

'We'll see how you are this evening. At all events, it will be
safer for you not to go downstairs. If you lie quiet for an hour or
two, I can look for those pamphlets that father wants.'

'Just as you like, dear.'

By three o'clock the invalid was calmly slumbering. Having
entered the bedroom on tiptoe and heard regular breathing, Sidwell
went down and for a few minutes lingered about the hall. A servant
came to her for instructions on some domestic matter; when this was
dismissed she mentioned that, if anyone called, she would be found
in the library.