Part 85 (1/2)
Going through the square in which his church stood he pa.s.sed a smart gig at the door of a public-house that occupied the corner of a street. The publican in holiday clothes was stepping up to the driver's seat, and a young soldier, smoking a cigarette, was taking the place by his side.
”Morning, Father, can you tip us the winner?” said the publican with a grin, while the soldier, with an impudent smile, cried ”Ta-ta” over his shoulder to the second story of a tenement house, where a young woman with a bloated and serious face and a head mopped up in curl-papers was looking down from an open window.
It was nine o'clock when John Storm reached the Prime Minister's house.
A small crowd of people had followed him to the door. ”His lords.h.i.+p is waiting for you in the garden, sir,” said the footman, and John was conducted to the back.
In a shady little inclosure between Downing Street and the Horse Guards Parade the Prime Minister was pacing to and fro. His head was bent, his step was heavy, he looked hara.s.sed and depressed. At sight of John's monkish habit he started with surprise and faltered uneasily. But presently, sitting by John's side on a seat under a tree, and keeping his eyes away from him, he resumed their old relations and said:
”I sent for you, my boy, to warn you and counsel you. You must give up this crusade. It is a public danger, and G.o.d knows what harm may come of it! Don't suppose I do not sympathize with you. I do--to a certain extent. And don't think I charge you with all the follies of this ridiculous distemper. I have followed you and watched you, and I know that ninety-nine hundredths of this madness is not yours. But in the eye of the public you are responsible for the whole of it, and that is the way of the world always. Enthusiasm is a good thing, my boy; it is the rainbow in the heaven of youth, but it may go too far. It may be hurtful to the man who nourishes it and dangerous to society. The world cla.s.ses it with lunacy and love and so forth among the nervous accidents of life; and the humdrum healthy-minded herd always call that man a fool and a weakling or else a fanatic and a madman, in whom the grand errors of human nature are due to an effort--may I not say, a vain effort?--to live up to a great ideal.” There were nervous twitchings over the muscles of John's face. ”Come, now, come, for the sake of peace and tranquillity, lest there should be disorder and even death, let this matter rest. Think, my boy, think, we are as much concerned for the world's welfare as you can be, and we have higher claims and heavier responsibilities. I can not raise a hand to help you, John. In the nature of things I can not defend you. I sent for you because--because you are your mother's son. Don't cast on me a heavier burden than I can bear. Save yourself and spare me.”
”What do you wish me to do, uncle?”
”Leave London immediately and stay away until this tumult has settled down.”
”Ah, that is impossible, sir.”
”Impossible?”
”Quite impossible, and though I did not make these predictions about the destruction of London, yet I believe we are on the eve of a great change.”
”You do?”
”Yes, and if you had not sent for me I should have called on you, to ask you to set aside a day for public prayer that G.o.d may in his mercy avert the calamity that is coming or direct it to the salvation of his servants. The morality of the nation is on the decline, uncle, and when morality is lacking the end is not far off. England is given up to idleness, pomp, dissolute practices, and pleasure--pleasure, always pleasure. The vice of intemperance, the mania for gambling, these are the vultures that are consuming the vitals of our people. Look at the luxury of the country--a ludicrous travesty of national greatness!
Look at the tastes and habits of our age--the deadliest enemies of true religion! And then look at the price we are paying in what the devil calls 'the priestesses of society' for the tranquillity of the demon of l.u.s.t!”
”But my boy, my dear boy----”
”Oh, yes, uncle, yes, I know, I know, many humanitarian schemes are afloat and we think we are not indifferent to the condition of the poor.
But contrast the toiling women of East London with the idlers of Hyde Park in a London season. Other nations have professed well with their lips while their hearts have been set on wealth and pleasure. And they have fallen! Yes, sir, in ancient Asia as well as in modern Europe they have always fallen. And unless we unglue ourselves from the vanities which imperil our existence we shall fall too. The l.u.s.t of pleasure and the l.u.s.t of wealth bring their own revenges. In the nation as well as the individual the Almighty destroys them as of old.”
”True--true!”
”Then how can I hold my peace or run away while it is the duty of Christians, of patriots, to cry out against this danger? On the soul of every one of us the duty rests, and who am I that I should escape from it? Oh, if the Church only realized her responsibility, if she only kept her eyes open----”
”She has powerful reasons for keeping them closed, my son,” said the Minister, ”and always will have until the Establishment is done away with. It is coming to that some day, but meantime have a care. The clergy are not your friends, John. Statesmen know too well the clerical cruelty which shelters itself behind the secular arm. It is an old story, I think, and you may find instances of that also in your ancient Palestine. But beware, my boy, beware----”
”'Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you. Ye know that it hated me before it hated you.'”
The exaltation of John's manner was increasing, and again the Prime Minister became uneasy, as if fearing that the young monk by his side would ask him next to kneel and pray.
”Ah, well,” he said, rising, ”I suppose there is no help for it, and matters must take their own course.” Then he broke into other subjects, talked of his brother, John's father, whom he had lately heard from. His health was failing, he could not last very long; a letter from his son now might make all things well.
John was silent, his head was down, but the Prime Minister could see that his words took no effect. Then his bleak old face smiled a wintry smile as he said:
”But you are not mending much in one way, my boy. Do you know you've never once been here since the day you came to tell me you were to be married, and intended to follow in the footsteps of Father Damien?”
John flinched, and the muscles of his face twitched nervously again.
”That was an impossible enterprise, John. No wonder the lady couldn't suffer you to follow it. But she might have allowed you to see a lonely old kinsman for all that.” John's pale face was breaking, and his breath was coming fast. ”Well, well,” taking his arm, ”I'm not reproaching you, John. There are pa.s.sions of the soul which eat up all the rest, I know that quite well, and when a man is under the sway of them he has neither father nor uncle, neither kith nor kin. Good-bye! ... Ah, this way out--this way.”
The footman had stepped up to the Minister and whispered something about a crowd in front of the house, and John was pa.s.sed out of the garden by the back door into the park.