Thus as he spake, his visage waxed pale,
And chaunge of hew great passion did bewray,
Yett still he strove to cloke his inward bale,
And hide the smoke that did his fire display.
SPENSER'S FAERY QUEENE.
The request of Mr. Armstrong, supported by the pleadings of his
daughter, prevailed upon Holden to remain to tea, and afterwards
to accompany them to the "conference," as a meeting for religious
purposes held usually on some particular evening of the week, was
called. Upon the conclusion of the service he was to return with
them and pass the night at the house of his host. It was not without
difficulty he allowed his objections to be overruled, nor was he ever
known before to have accepted such an invitation. But it had seemed of
late that as his influence with Miss Armstrong increased, so did hers
over him, until he became unable to deny her slightest wish. Perhaps,
too, the events of the afternoon, by bringing him more intimately into
communion with sufferings like those through which he had passed, had
softened his sternness and disposed him more for human companionship.
The little building where the "conference" met was of the humblest
pretensions. It was a weather-stained, unpainted wooden edifice of
one story, standing at no great distance from the meeting-house, and
capable of containing comfortably, probably a hundred people. The
interior was almost as rude and unattractive as the exterior, the
walls being coarsely plastered and dingy with smoke that had escaped
from a cast-iron stove which stood in the centre of the room. Benches
with backs were placed parallel to one another, and facing a sort of
rostrum or reading-desk, to which a passage betwixt the benches led.
The inside work was equally innocent of paint as the outside.
On the arrival of Mr. Armstrong with his companions, they found the
room only partly occupied, nor had the exercises commenced. According
to a custom which would have struck a stranger as singular, but which,
doubtless, was founded in a knowledge of the nature of young men and
young women, the males were seated on one side of the passage, and
the females on the other. The separation, as might be expected, only
partly answered the purpose, being unable to arrest the glances
which, with quite as much of earth as of heaven in them, crossed the
intervening space. These, however, were stolen, and managed in such a
quiet way as not materially to affect the devotions of the elders.
In compliance with an usage, a breach of which would have violated
propriety, Faith, withdrawing her arm from her father's, glided into
a seat among her own sex on the right, while Mr. Armstrong and Holden
sought places on the left.
The appearance of the Solitary entering the little place of worship,
striding up the passage with his usual air of dignity and composure,
and taking a seat among the principal members of the church,
occasioned great surprise. Although differing little, probably, in
religious sentiments (except in one point) from those around him, he
had never united with them in religious worship. He was, therefore,
notwithstanding his frequent allusions to the Scriptures, considered
generally more in the light of a heathen than of a Christian man, and
the apparition of Plato or Socrates would hardly have excited more
observation. Many, in consequence, were the looks bent on him by those
present, and those who afterwards came in.
But of them, or of any sensation caused by his presence, he seemed
utterly unconscious. With arms folded and head drooped upon his chest,
he shut his eyes and abandoned himself to meditation.
"Massy on us," whispered Miss Green, the mantua-maker, to her next
neighbor, Miss Thompson, the tailoress, "if here ain't old Holden. I
wonder what fetches him here."
"And did you see!" said Miss Thompson, whispering in like manner, "he
came in with the Armstrongs. I always did admire what they could see
in him to like."
"I guess," said Miss Green, "he feels kind o' awkward. Look how
he's folded his arms. It's so long since he's been to meeting or
conference, if he was ever in such a place before; he don't know how
to behave."
"There's no sort o' set about his clothes," observed Miss Thompson.
"They look as if he made them himself."
"Perhaps he did, but they're good enough to go with Faith Armstrong's
cloak" (which had been made by a rival artiste), responded Miss Green.
"What dark colors she wears, no variety, and how dreadful old they
make her look!"
"Hush!" said Miss Thompson, "the deacon's going to open."
During the colloquy of the two spinsters a grave, respectable-looking
man, somewhat advanced in years, had taken a seat behind the
reading-desk, and opening the large Bible that lay upon it, selected
a chapter, and now invited the attention of the audience to its
contents. Upon its conclusion he gave out a hymn, the tune of which
was announced by another person, who immediately on naming it pulled
out a pitch-pipe from his pocket and making a slight sound, furnished
the starting note. The singing proceeded principally from a certain
part of the room, as if by some understanding the singers had been
collected together, although scattered sounds also, of either rumbling
bass or shrill treble whose trembling modulations betrayed the
advanced age of the performers, were here and there heard. Some
of these guerrilla passages were sadly out of time and tune, and
according to the humor of the hearer might either provoke a smile
or start a tear. The gay and thoughtless might, indeed, laugh at the
wavering and undecided notes, but to the reflecting mind there was
something profoundly pathetic in the feeble tribute to the praise of
their Maker, of those whose voices in the ordinary course of nature
must soon be silent in the grave.
After the singing was ended, the person who had hitherto officiated
invited Deacon Baldwin, calling him by name, to make a prayer.
Hereupon the deacon rose, and folding his hands complied with the
request, while most of the congregation respectfully bent forward,
or covered their faces with their handkerchiefs. The prayer evidently
came from a sincere and earnest heart, but contained nothing that
requires it should be recorded. Another hymn was then sung, upon the
conclusion of which followed the sermon.
The person who came forward to perform this office was a short,
thick-set man, of middle age, with a bull neck. His features were
harsh and severe, and stamped with an expression of mortification,
though the gross animality of the mouth and chin too plainly revealed
how many and desperate were the conflicts it must have cost him to
become a saint. As he passed to the reading-desk his clothes brushed
Holden, who shrunk from the touch. The Solitary looked up, but as if
what he saw was displeasing, he averted his face and shut his eyes.
The first thing done by Davenport on reaching the desk, and casting a
furtive glance around, was to draw an East India silk handkerchief out
of his pocket, and having noticed a spittoon by his side, to blow his
nose sonorously. He then cleared his throat two or three times, and
commenced reading.
It happened, singularly enough, that the subject was prophecy,
considered as evidence of the divine inspiration of the Scriptures.
The writer, after referring to the fulfillment of many prophecies
contained in the Old Testament, came to those in the New, and amongst
others he spoke of that in which Christ alludes to the destruction of
Jerusalem. He said that even in the times of the Apostles, there were
persons who, by putting too literal a construction upon the words,
were misled into believing that the end of the world was at hand, and
that there had never been a time when there were not victims to the
same delusion.
It was impossible, with reference to the condition of Holden's
mind, to have selected either a topic or reader more unsuitable. The
aversion he had manifested at first increased every moment. It was one
of those antipathies as unquestionable as they are unaccountable. It
at first exhibited itself in restlessness, and an inability to remain
quiet, and afterwards in half-suppressed groans and sighs. If he
opened his eyes and looked at the reader, he saw a devilish figure,
with a malignant leer glaring at him; if he shut them to exclude the
disagreeable image it was converted into a thousand smaller figures,
dancing up and down like motes in a distempered vision, all wearing
that intolerable grin, while the whole time a hissing sound, as if it
came from a snake, whispered in his ears temptations to some deadly
sin. It was a trial the shattered nerves of the enthusiast were
ill qualified to bear, and, finally, a torture beyond his powers
of endurance. The very force of the reasons urged by the writer
distressed him more and more. They seemed to his disordered
imagination the subtle enticements of an evil spirit to lure him
from the truth, and Davenport an emissary of Satan, if not the
arch-deceiver himself. No adequate answers to doctrines which he was
persuaded were false presented themselves to his mind, and this he
ascribed to some hellish spell, which fettered his reason, and must
soon be broken, or he was lost. Mentally, then, first ejaculating a
prayer, he suddenly sprung to his feet, and in a loud voice bade the
reader to stop.
"Forbear," he cried, "man of sin, to seduce the people with these
soul-damning and abominable lies. I conjure thee, Satan, to leave the
body of this man, and depart. Ha! thou wouldst lull them into
security that they may slumber and have no oil in their lamps when
the Bridegroom cometh, when He cometh in the clouds of heaven. My soul
have not thou thy portion with the unbelievers."
The words were uttered with wonderful vehemence and rapidity, and upon
their conclusion, he strode with long strides down the passage towards
the door. Not an exclamation was heard, not a hand raised to stay his
departure, so stupefied were all with astonishment. Upon leaving the
room he rushed into the street, and, forgetful of his promise to Mr.
Armstrong, took his way to his own hut. The tything man, awakening
from his lethargy, and a few others recovering their presence of mind,
went at last to the door, and gazed up and down the street, but the
disturber of the meeting was not in sight, nor, sooth to say, were
any of the number sorry, or wished to meet him that night. Contenting
themselves, therefore, with this slight demonstration of zeal, they
returned to the Conference-room. There, great as was the scandal
occasioned by the interruption, all things soon settled down into
their usual course, and the meeting was regularly concluded and
dismissed.