Wesley could not, of course, know that Pritchard was at that time
in the Mill awaiting his arrival. But it was the case that the
water-finder, learning that the coming of Mr. Wesley was looked for
during the afternoon, had gone to the Mill early and had rejected the
suggestion made by the blacksmith and Jake Pullsford, that he should
not appear in the presence of Mr. Wesley until he was sent for. He was
almost indignant at the hint conveyed to him in an ambiguous way by Hal
Holmes, that it would show better taste if he were to remain away for
the time being.
“Take my word for 't, Dick, you'll be brought face to face with him soon
enow,” said Hal. “You'll be wishful that you had ne'er been born or
thought of. Mr. Wesley is meek, but he isn't weak, and 'tis the meek
ones that's the hardest to answer when the time comes, and it always
comes too soon. Before your Monday comes you'll be wishful to hide away
and calling on the mountains to cover ye.”
“List to me, Hal; there's naught that will say nay to me when my mind is
made up, and go to face Mr. Wesley I shall,” Dick had replied.
The blacksmith folded his big bare arms and looked at him with curiosity
from head to foot.
“A change has come o'er a good many of us since Mr. Wesley began to
preach, but what's all our changes alongside yours, Dick Pritchard?” he
said, shaking his head as though he relinquished this task of solving
the problem which had been suggested to him. “Why, you was used to fear
and tremble at the thin noise of your own voice, Dick Pritchard. With
these ears I have heard you make an apology for saying 'Thank ye,' on
the score that you were too bold. But now you are for rushing headlong
to meet the man that you scarce dare lift your hat to a month or two
agone.”
“I hadn't learned then all that there's in me now, Hal,” replied the
water-finder. “I always did despise myself, being unmindful that to
despise myself was to do despite to Heaven. Doesn't it stand to reason,
Hal, that the greater a man thinks himself, the greater is the honour he
does to his Maker? I think twice as much of God since I came to see what
a man He made in me.”
“That's a square apology for conceit, Dick, and I don't think aught the
better of you for putting it forward at this time and in such a case as
this. What, good fellow, would you be at the pains to magnify a man's
righteousness pace for pace with his conceit? At that rate, the greater
the coxcomb the more righteous the man.”
Dick was apparently lost in thought for some time. At last he shook his
head gravely, saying:
“Not for all cases, Hal, not for all cases. You be a narrow-souled
caviller, I doubt; you cannot comprehend an argyment that's like a
crystal diamond, with as many sides to it as a middling ignorant man
would fail to compute.”
“That may be, but I've handled many a lump of sea-coal that has shown
as many sides as any diamond that was ever dug out of the earth, and it
seems to me that your talk is more like the sea-coal than the crystal,
Dick, my friend,” said the blacksmith. “Ay, your many-sided argyments
are only fit to be thrust into the furnace, for all, their sides.”
“Mr. Wesley will comprehend,” said Pritchard doggedly; “though even Mr.
Wesley might learn something from me. Ay, and in after years you will
all be glad to remember that you once dwelt nigh a simple man by name
Richard Pritchard.”
“In after years?” cried Hal Holmes. “Why, where are your after years to
come from, if the end of all things is to be on us on Monday?”
“Don't you doubt but that 'twill come to an end on Monday,” said the
water-finder, “however you may twist and turn. Be sure that you be
prepared, Hal Holmes. You have been a vain-living blacksmith, I am
feared, and now you side with them that would persecute the prophets.
Prepare yourself, Hal, prepare yourself.”
This was the style in which the man had been talking for some time,
astonishing everyone who had known his extreme modesty in the past; and
this was the strain in which he talked when he had entered the Mill,
and found the miller, Jake Pulls-ford and Mr. Hartwell seated together
awaiting the arrival of Wesley.
The man's entrance at this time surprised them. They knew he was
aware that Mr. Wesley was returning in haste, owing solely to his,
Pritchard's, having put himself forward in a way that his brethren could
not sanction, and it never occurred to them that he would wish to
meet Mr. Wesley at this time. They were, as was Hal Holmes, under the
impression that when Wesley arrived Pritchard's former character might
show itself once more, causing him to avoid even the possibility of
meeting the preacher face to face.
They were soon undeceived. The water-finder was in no way nervous when
he came among them.
When he had in some measure recovered from his surprise, the miller said:
“We looked not for thy coming so soon, Dick, but maybe 'tis as well that
thou 'rt here.”
“How could I be away from here unless I had hastened to meet Mr. Wesley
on his way hither?” said Pritchard. “I have been trembling with desire
to have his ear for the past week. It is laid on me to exhort him
on some matters that he neglected. These matters can be neglected no
longer.”
The miller looked at Jake Pullsford, and the latter sat aghast. He was
so astounded that he could only stare at Pritchard, with his hands on
his knees and his head in its usual poise, craning forward. Some moments
had passed before he succeeded in gasping out, after one or two false
starts:
“You--you--you--Dick Pritchard--you talk of exhorting Mr. Wesley? Oh,
poor fellow! poor fellow! Now, indeed, we know that you are mad!”
“Mr. Wesley should ha' found out the gift that is mine,” said Pritchard,
quite ignoring the somewhat frank utterance of the carrier. “I suspected
myself during several months of having that great gift of prophecy.'Twas
no more than a suspicion for some time, and I dare not speak before I
was sure.”
“And what made thee sure, Dick?” asked the miller.
“'Twas reading how the great prophet, Moses, made water flow from the
rock,” replied Pritchard. “'What,' said I to my own self. 'What, Richard
Pritchard, hath not all thy life been spent in performing that great
miracle of Moses, and hast not known the greatness of thy gift?' And
then I made search and found that water-finding has been the employment
of most of the great prophets, Elijah being the foremost. Like to a
flash from a far-off cannon gun, that reaches the eyes before ever the
sound of the boom comes upon the ear, the truth was revealed to me. I
knew then that the gift of the Tishbite was mine.”
It was Jake Pullsford who now looked at the miller. The miller shook his
head.
“'Twould not matter much what you thought of yourself, Dick,” said the
miller, “if only you had not been admitted to our fellowship; but things
being as they be---”
He shook his head again.
“What overcomes me is the thought of thy former habit of life, Dick,”
said the carrier. “Why, up to a month agone, a man more modest, shy and
tame speaking, wasn't to be found in all the West Country. Why, man,
I've seen thee sweat at the sound of thine own voice, like as if thou
hadst been a thief a-hearing o' the step of an officer! Meek! Meek is no
name for it! I give thee my word that it oft made me think shame of all
manhood in the world to hear thee make apology for a plain truth that,
after all, thou wast too bashful to utter!”
“You could not see my heart, Miller,” said Pritchard. “'Twas only that
I was humble in voice; I know now that in spirit I was puffed up with
pride, so that I could hardly contain myself. But even after the truth
came upon me in that flash, I was ready to treat the likes of you,
Miller--ay, even the likes of thee, Jake Pullsford, as mine equal, so
affable a heart had I by birth.”
“You promoted yourself a bit, Dick,” remarked the miller. “But I've
always observed that when a man tells another in that affable way that
he regards the other as his equal, he fancies in the inwardness of his
heart, that he is far above the one he gives such an assurance to.”
“I feel a sort of light of knowledge within me ready to break forth
and tell me a wonderful reply to that remark of yours, Miller,” said
Pritchard. “Tarry a while, and give me time for the light to-break forth
with fulness, and you'll be rewarded; friends, you will hear a reply
that will make you all stand back in amaze, and marvel, as I have done,
how noble a thing is the gift of speech--saying a phrase or two that
makes the flesh of man tingle. All I ask is time. It may not come to me
within the hour, but----”
“Here's one that hath come to thee, my man, and he will listen to all
you have to say: I hear the sound of his horse on the lane,” cried the
miller.
Jake Pullsford sprang from the settle, and strained himself to look out
of the window.
“Right; 'tis Mr. Wesley, in very deed,” he said.
“That's as should be,” cried Pritchard, with an air of satisfaction that
made the others feel the more astonished.
And when Wesley had entered and greeted his-friends, including the
water-finder, they were a good deal more astonished at the attitude
taken by Pritchard. Without wasting time over preliminaries, he assumed
that Wesley had come to the Mill in order not to admonish him, but to be
admonished by him. Before Mr. Wesley had time to say more than a
word, Pritchard had become fluent on the subject of the preacher's
responsibilities. It was not for Mr. Wesley to go wandering in the
uttermost parts of Cornwall, he said; he should have remained at
Porthawn to consolidate the work that he had begun; had he done so until
he had gathered in every soul, the Lord might have been as merciful to
the world as He had been to Nineveh in the days of Jonah. But Mr. Wesley
had, like Jonah, fled from his duty, and the next Monday was to be the
Day of Judgment.
Wesley listened gravely until the man got upon his feet and with an
outstretched finger toward him, cried:
“I have been mocked by some, and held in silent despite by others--all
of them professing to be of the Household of Faith, because the Spirit
of prophecy came upon me, and I announced the truth. Nor, Mr. Wesley,
will you dare to join with the disbelievers and say straight out that
the first Monday will not be the Last Day that will dawn on this world?”
“No,” said Wesley, “I would not be so presumptuous as to lay claim to
any knowledge that would entitle me to speak on a subject of such awful
import. '_Ye know not the day nor the hour_'--those were the words of
our Lord, and anyone who makes profession of knowing either, commits a
grievous sin.”
“Ay, anyone but me,” said Pritchard. “But the revelation was made to
me--I take no glory to myself. The great and terrible Day of the Lord
cometh next Monday, and they shall cry unto the rocks to fall on them
and the mountains to cover them. What other place could that refer to if
not Ruthallion and Porthawn; is't not that Buthallion is in the heart of
the hills and Porthawn the place of rocks?”
With all gentleness Wesley spoke to the man of the great need there was
for caution on the part of anyone venturing to assign times and seasons
to such prophecies as had been uttered respecting the mystery of
the Last Judgment. He tried to show him that however strong his own
conviction was on the subject of the Revelation, he should hold his
peace, for fear of a mistake being made and enemies being afforded a
reason for railing against the cause which they all had at heart. The
interpretation of prophecy, he said, was at all times difficult and
should certainly not be lightly attempted even by those men who had
spent all their lives dealing with the subject, with the light of
history to guide them. Nothing could exceed the tact, patience and
gentleness with which the pastor pleaded with this erring one of his
flock--the miller and Jake Pullsford were amazed at his forbearance;
they learned a lesson from him which they never forgot. He was patient
and said no word of offence all the time that they were waxing irritable
at the foolishness of the man who sat shaking his head now and again,
and pursing out his lips after the manner of pig-headed ignorance when
objecting to the wisdom of experience.
It was all to no purpose that Wesley spoke. The man listened, but
criticised with the smile of incredulous superiority on his face almost
all the time that Wesley was speaking--it varied only when he was
shaking his head, and then throwing it back defiantly. It was all to no
purpose.
“You are right, Mr. Wesley, in some ways,” he cried. “But you talk of
the interpretation of prophecy. Well, that is within your sphere, and I
durstn't stop you so far. Ay, but I am not an interpreter of prophecy--I
am the very prophet himself. Friends, said not I the truth to you this
hour past--how I felt as it were a burst of flame within me, whereby I
knew that I had been possessed of the spirit of prophecy? The gift of
water-finding, which has been mine since my youth, was only bestowed
upon the major prophets, Moses being the chief; and when I read of
Elijah, who in the days of the grievous water famine was enabled by
the exercise of his gift, and guided by the hand of the Lord, to find
water--even the running brook Chereth--in the midst of a land that was
dusty dry, all unworthy doubt was set at rest. Is it not written that
Elijah, the prophet, was to come back to earth to warn the people of the
Great Day being at hand?”
“Dear friend, stay thy tongue for a moment--say not words that might not
be forgiven thee even by the Most Merciful,” cried Wesley.
“You are a great preacher and a faithful servant--up to a certain point,
Mr. Wesley; but you are not as I am,” replied Pritchard firmly, but not
without a tone of tenderness. “You are a preacher; I am the prophet. I
have spoken as Jonah spoke to the men of Nineveh: 'Yet forty days
and Nineveh shall be overthrown.' 'In eleven days the world shall be
overthrown,' said I, feeling the flame within me.”
“The people of Nineveh repented and the destruction was averted,” said
Wesley. “Have there been signs of a great repentance among the people
who got tidings of your prediction?”
“My prophecy has everywhere been received with ridicule,” replied the
man proudly.
“I can testify to that,” said Jake Pullsford. “I travel about, as you
know, and I hear much of what is talked over from here to Devon, and
only for a few light-headed women--ready to believe that the moon was
the sun if they were told so from the pulpit--only for these, it might
be said that Dick's foolishness would ha' fallen on ears as deaf as an
adders.”
“I, myself, can bear witness to the evil effect that has been produced
among a people who were, I hoped, ready for the sowing of the good
seed,” said Wesley. “It was a great sorrow to me to hear the lightness
of talk--the offer of wagers--the excuse of drunkenness--all the result
of Richard Pritchard's indiscretion.”
“And everywhither it has been received as coming from us--from us
whom you have instructed in the Truth, sir,” said Jake. “'Tis not Dick
Pritchard that has been ridiculed, but we whom they call Methodists.
That is the worst of it.”
“And now that I have paved the way for you, the preacher, Mr. Wesley,
you will be able for three days to exhort the people to repentance,”
said Pritchard, with the air of a man accustomed to give advice on grave
matters, with confidence that his advice would be followed.
“My duty is clear,” said Wesley. “I shall have to disclaim all sympathy
with the statements made by Richard Pritchard. Souls are not to be
terrorised to seek salvation. I am not one of those ministers who think
that the painting of lurid pictures of the destruction of the earth and
all that is therein the best way of helping poor sinners. Nay, there
have come under mine own eyes many instances of the very temporary
nature of conversions brought about by that paradox of the gospel of
terror. But need we look for guidance any further away than the history
of Jonah and the Ninevites? The prophet preached destruction, and
the people repented. But how long did the change last? The fire and
brimstone had to be rained down upon them before the sackcloth that they
assumed was worn out.”
“On Monday the fire and brimstone will overwhelm the whole world,
and woe be to him that preacheth not from that text till then!” cried
Pritchard. He was standing at one end of the table facing the window
that had a western aspect, and as he spoke, the flaming beams of the
sinking sun streamed through the glass and along the table until they
seemed to envelop him. In spite of the smallness of his stature he
seemed, with the sunbeams striking him, to possess some heroic elements.
The hand that he uplifted was thin and white, and it trembled in the
light. His face was illuminated, not from without only; his eyes were
large and deep, and they seemed staring at some object just outside the
window.
Watching him thus, everyone in the room turned toward the window--Wesley
was the only exception; he kept his eyes fixed upon the man at the
foot of the table. He saw his eyes move as if they were following the
movements of someone outside, and their expression varied strangely.
But they were the eyes of a man who is the slave of his nerves--of a
visionary who is carried away by his own ill-balanced imagination--of the
mystic who can see what he wishes to see.
Wesley was perplexed watching this man whose nature seemed to have
completely changed within the month. He had had a good deal of strange
experience of nervous phases, both in men and women who had been
overcome by his preaching, but he had never before met with a case that
was so strange as this. The man was no impostor; an impostor would have
been easy to deal with. He was a firm believer in his own mission and in
his own powers, and therein lay the difficulty of suppressing him.
And while Wesley watched him, and everyone else seemed striving to catch
a glimpse of the object on which the man's eyes were fixed, the light
suddenly passed out of his eyes and they became like those of a newly
dead man, staring blankly at that vision which comes before the sight
of a soul that is in the act of passing from the earth into the great
unknown Space. There he stood with his hand still upraised, and that
look of nothingness in his staring eyes..
Wesley sprang up from the table to support him when he fell, and he
appeared to be tottering after the manner of a man who has been shot
through the heart while on his feet; and Wesley's movement caused the
others to turn toward the man.
In a second the miller was behind him with outstretched arms ready to
support him. Pritchard did not fall just then, however. Breathlessly
and in a strained silence, the others watched him while he swayed to
the extent of a hand's breadth from side to side, still with his hand
upraised and rigid. For some minutes--it might have been five--he stood
thus, and in the end he did not collapse. He went slowly and rigidly
backward into Wesley's arms, and then down into his own chair, his eyes
still open--still blankly staring, devoid of all expression.
“Dead--can he be dead?” whispered Jake, slipping a hand under his
waistcoat.
Wesley shook his head.
“He is not dead, but in a trance,” he replied.