of hail and a destroying storm, as a flood of mighty waters
overflowing, shall cast down to the earth with the hand._
"_The crown of pride, the drunkards of Ephraim, shall be trodden under
feet._"
"You have heard the marvellous words of the great prophet," cried the
worthy lady. "Well, my dear children, Isaiah meant to say, that God
would punish man's wickedness, vanity and sensuality, and all these
prophecies have been fulfilled. That city of gold means Paris, the new
Babylon; the crown of pride means France. The strong and mighty one is
the Emperor of Germany, who, ever since the day on which he married
his son to the daughter of our beloved queen, has had the blessings of
the Lord showered upon him.
"This interpretation of the passage I have just read you was the one
presented by the dear lamented Dr. Macleod to our gracious sovereign,
and Her Majesty was pleased to consider that the words of Isaiah were
quite wonderful for the way in which they seemed to describe France.
What need have we of a surer authority?
"And, indeed, is it not easy to recognise at a glance that proud and
perverse nation which does not even keep the Sabbath holy? Do you
know, my dear children, that these Sabbath-breakers hold horse-races
and go to theatres on Sundays? Yes, you can scarcely believe it--our
upright, honest minds refuse to believe in such monstrous
iniquity--yes, newspapers are printed, bought, and read on Sundays. I
even saw once, though I could scarcely believe my eyes--I positively
saw in the public gardens, on that sacred day, little boys and girls
of the better classes playing with their hoops and dancing in front of
their parents, who seemed to see no harm in it whatever. It is the
abomination of desolation, and I do not hesitate to say it: the Jews
and Mussulmans are better than such people; for, after all, if they do
not worship the Saviour, at least they worship God. I prefer the
savages, who worship the sun, to these infidels who worship nothing at
all, and just go down on their knees before a few candles to save
appearances."
----"Please, 'm," said one little maid timidly, "papa says that the
French are Christians."
----"No, my child, they are papists, which is quite another thing.
Most of them are nothing at all. Those who believe in the Pope give
him money and receive of him, on a certain day fixed in advance,
plenary indulgences that allow them, up to that time, to offend God as
much and as often as they please. I am sure your papa would not apply
the name of Christian to such pagans. But, make your mind easy, dear;
I will go and talk with your papa one of these days.
"Then," continued Mrs. Goodman, "see what is the result: the day of
vengeance and chastisement arrives. A handful of English soldiers
annihilates millions of the French: the hordes of Bonaparte are
overwhelmed by the few soldiers of the Duke of Wellington.
"And why?
"Ah, why! Because our noble soldiers believed in God and prayed to
Him."
----"Oh! ma'am," then cried another little girl, "haven't those wicked
French people any prayers?"
----"I can scarcely tell you, my dear child, but I doubt it very much.
And even if they had," said the worthy lady, not in the least
disconcerted, "you may be sure that the Lord has something else to do
besides listening to such rubbish. For prayer to have any effect, the
supplicant must have grace, that is, he must have received permission
to lay his supplication at the feet of his Maker. And this grace we
only,--we, a God-fearing nation, the descendants of Abraham, Isaac,
and Jacob, we the chosen children of the Lord, have in abundance. We
are the allies of the God of Israel who has said: 'The children of
Israel shall keep the Sabbath, to observe the Sabbath throughout their
generations, for a perpetual covenant.' And again: 'Moreover also I
gave them my sabbaths, to be a sign between me and them, that they
might know that I am the Lord that sanctify them.'
"Now, I ask you, who is it that observes the Sabbath? First, there are
the Jews. Then the English and Americans. As I have already explained
to you, and as the Vicar has many times proved to you in the pulpit,
the Americans are none other than the tribe of Manasseh, and the Jews
are all that remain of the perverse tribes of Judah and Levi. The
English are therefore the children of the house of Israel. Yes, my
children, it is a glorious fact, and you may well be proud of it. So
keep your covenant with the Lord who will always recognise you by this
sign. I know wicked children who laugh and play on Sundays. Avoid
their bad example, and you will one day go to the realms of the
blessed, where there reigns an eternal Sabbath."
The last phrase did not produce in Mrs. Goodman's pupils the
enthusiasm she looked for. Many of them grew reflective over it, as
visions of scoldings, punishments, solemn silence, stern looks, and
tract-reading, presented themselves to their memory and formed
anything but an attractive subject of contemplation.
One little girl even went so far as to burst into a torrent of tears
on reaching home.
"What is the matter, my darling?" asked her mother.
----"Oh! mamma," cried the poor child, bathed in tears, "Mrs. Goodman
says in heaven it's Sunday all the week."
----"Well, what then?"
----"Oh!" sobbed the distressed innocent, "if I am a very good girl
all the week, shan't I be allowed to go down to hell to play with the
little devils on Saturdays?"
* * * * *
It is time I should say that Mrs. Goodman is not at all an imaginary
character. I have had the pleasure of enjoying the excellent lady's
company many times. On these occasions, I have had explained to me how
the history of Napoleon can be plainly read in the Apocalypse of Saint
John, how all the great historical events, from the battle of Hastings
down to that of Tel-el-Kebir are spoken of as inevitable by Isaiah,
Ezekiel, and other prophets.
You can explain everything with the help of the Bible: as its name
indicates, it is the book _par excellence_. I have heard educated
people, apparently in possession of their mental faculties, tell me
that the victories of General Wolseley in Egypt were foretold in the
third chapter of Jeremiah and the eighteenth verse. I must tell you
that this was before the successes of the Mahdi.
However, among all the prophets, it is Isaiah that bears off the palm.
The Vicar of All Angels passed a whole evening in showing me the
French Revolution under quite a novel aspect, by the aid of the
sixty-six chapters of Isaiah.
Mrs. Goodman also taught history to her Sunday School class, after the
same fashion, Bible in hand.
* * * * *
It seems to me an error to seek to put the religious convictions of
children to the proof. Those castles of abstractions that they build
out of obedience must give way at the first shock. The thousand little
fibs that are told to children, with a worthy intention, no doubt,
cannot fail sometimes to sow in their souls profound impressions and
doubts that are not easily uprooted. I speak from the experiences of
my own childhood.
It was on a Sunday, in the month of June, 1856, at the time of the
grand _fêtes_ at Cherbourg. I was to make my first communion the
Sunday following! Heaven knows how I prepared for it with all the
fervour of my young soul; how I prayed constantly for faith; how I
returned to the tribunal of penitence twice and thrice daily, fearing
lest I might have left some small peccadillo unconfessed. On the
Sunday in question, we were about thirty children assembled in the
church for catechism. The _curé_, who was present, begged the priest
to let him say a few words to us: "My dear children," he began, "I
have a great piece of news to announce to you. His Majesty the Emperor
is at present in Cherbourg. Next Sunday, the day of your first
communion, he will be passing through this town, and he invites you
all to dine with him." We looked at each other in silence, and if we
had not been in such a sacred place, we should certainly have jumped
with joy. As soon as I got home, I imparted the great news to my
mother. My good mother, who saw that I was almost smacking my lips in
advance over the thought of the _tartes à la crême_ that the Emperor
could scarcely fail to offer us, and who was always of opinion that
you should never disappoint children if you would gain their
confidence, merely replied: "Really? it is an extraordinary thing!
After all, it is a capital idea of the Emperor's! But unfortunately,
emperors are folks whose time is very much occupied, and it may happen
that he should have to return to Paris before being able to keep his
engagement. But, make your mind easy, we will invite your aunt,
godmother, and our friends, and we will celebrate the day worthily, so
that you may not forget it, I will promise you that." My dear mother
knew that we had been deceived. I had swallowed the pill confidently.
On the following Thursday, we met together again for catechism. Seeing
the _curé_ among us, we expected he had come with some fresh
announcement, and we lent an attentive ear to what might be coming.
And indeed, no sooner had we all taken our seats, than he rose, and,
addressing us, said: "My dear children, I have a great and glorious
piece of news to tell you to-day. I told you last Sunday that the
Emperor invited you all to dine with him on the day of your first
communion. Well, it is something better than that: it is not the
Emperor, it is God who on Sunday next will receive you at His table."
Was it the fault of the priest, or of children eleven years old, that,
at this announcement, all our little round faces lengthened visibly?
We had been imposed upon. That was the idea that we dared not confess
to ourselves, though it was undoubtedly present in our minds.
I remember hearing my mother say, years afterwards, that she had never
forgiven that priest for sowing seeds of doubt in my mind, at an age
when confidence is unlimited and deceptions so acutely felt.
XX.
APOTHEOSIS OF THE DAUGHTERS OF JOHN BULL.
(Scenes of disappointment in Paradise in the year 19..)
_Jennie._--"My dear Susie! At last! How glad I am to see you!"
_Susie._--"At last! my dear: why _at last_? I came straight up ...
without any hitch, as you may imagine."
_Jennie._--"Oh! of course ... I only thought ... that is, you used to
long so after Paradise ... that I began to wonder that you were so
long making up your mind to leave the vale of tears and misery: ...
would you believe there were moments when I used to be almost afraid
you would put an end to yourself?"
_Susie._--"Well, yes: I certainly used to long to be gone. But it is
so hard to be sure that one is ready. No, I used to pray that I might
be permitted to serve Him long on the earth, where He has so few
servants; and I would say to myself: The longer I live the more good I
shall be able to do."
_Jennie._--"Yes, I quite understand you, dear ... besides, between
ourselves, it is all very well to run down that poor Earth, but it has
its redeeming points, you know.... By the way, I must tell you, I have
such an anxiety on my mind. Do you know, I have been searching
everywhere for my husband for years ... I have been into every corner
of the place, and there is not a soul whom I have not asked if the
poor fellow had been seen.... He has not arrived yet, that is evident;
... and I can't help telling you that I begin to be dreadfully
afraid...."
_Susie._--"Your husband, my love? He is getting on capitally: he is
the picture of health, and seems to grow younger every day."
_Jennie._--"You don't mean it! Is it possible! I had been told he was
inconsolable, and was wasting away. Poor dear! I fancy I see him now
as he stood by my bedside. 'If you go, I shall not be long for this
world,' he said to me."
_Susie._--"Ah! well, my dear, make your mind easy, he is better, he
has got over it."
_Jennie._--"Heaven be praised! And yet--I know it's selfishness--but I
should like to have him here with me."
_Susie._--"But has nobody told you he is married?..."
_Jennie._--"Married! I don't believe a word of it."
_Susie._--"It is true enough, though. I took tea with his wife not
more than a fortnight ago."
_Jennie._--"Fancy the wretch! What a set the men are to be sure!...
And what woman has been mad enough to tie herself to him? the old
grumbler, old tyrant, old miser ... the...."
_Susie._--"Hush, my love; remember where you are.... Besides, between
ourselves, I don't believe he is over happy."
_Jennie._--"Serve him right ... the idea ... at his age too....
Perhaps he thought he was going to be married for his good looks, the
idiot!"
_Susie._--"At his age! He calls himself fifty-five...."
_Jennie._--"He tells falsehoods; he is sixty, and over.... Oh! if ever
I come across him here!... I...."
_Susie._--"He has married a very religious woman ... she makes him go
to every service ... he is a pattern to all his townsmen."
_Jennie._--"It just serves him right! but who is the woman?"
_Susie._--"Sarah Robinson."
_Jennie._--"What! the widow of Robinson, the chemist of High Street?"
_Susie._--"Just so."
_Jennie._--"And you say she is religious! Well well, she must have
changed since my time, and no mistake. Of course, you know the stories
that used to be told about her.... She was no better than she should
be, my dear, that is certain ... and...."
_Susie._--"Well, she is a model of piety now."
_Jennie._--"Oh! enough of this subject. There, let us talk of
something else.... Let me see, when was it you arrived here?"
_Susie._--"Yesterday morning, at twenty past eight. Everything seems
so strange to me ... this calm ... but what I can't get over is to see
the negroes, the Chinese, the savages; what a number of them are
here! ... those that our missionaries converted, I suppose. What a
blessed work, our foreign missions! Only I fancy all those converts
ought to have a place ... how shall I explain myself? ... marked out
for them. To speak candidly, I quite expected to see our glorious
nation treated with a great deal more consideration than it seems to
be."
_Jennie._--"Yes, isn't it strange? I can't understand it at all."
_Susie._--"Would you believe it, I had to wait two mortal hours at
the gate yesterday morning, and, when at last my turn came, Saint
Peter never even got up to welcome me ... and pay me a compliment or
two?... It would have been nothing but polite, I am sure; for, after
all, where would Paradise be without us? Who is it that proclaims the
glory of God at the four corners of the universe, I should like to
know?"
_Jennie._--"Yes, indeed; who but ourselves? I can assure you I am very
disappointed. Where is the realisation of all the promises our dear
minister used to hold out to us?... The kingdom of heaven is England's
inheritance; we are the chosen of the Lord ... and I don't know what
else.... It looks to me as if anybody could get in.... It is very
mixed, to say the least. We are treated just like anybody else ...
positively if I was not seated between a Cardinal and a Zulu at the
Seraphim's concert last night!"
_Susie._--"Can it be possible?"
_Jennie._--"It is a fact ... I have even been assured ... but I'll
never believe it unless I see it ... that there were.... But, just
look how everyone is crowding towards the great entrance gate ... who
can have arrived?"
Surely enough the noise of trumpets, tambourines, cornets,
concertinas, a frightful hubbub, had just burst on the ears of the
elect, who were rushing to the gate to find out the meaning of these
sounds, so strange in those regions of rest and harmony. In the midst
of the crowd of new-comers was to be seen a woman brandishing an
umbrella, gesticulating, vociferating, and appearing to be in a state
of great indignation. Saint Peter had just made his way through the
agitated crowd.
_Saint Peter._--"My children, calm yourselves, I beg. And you, madam,
come in quietly, please; we allow no such noises here. What is it you
want?"
_Mrs. Bull._--"Well, I never! you seem to take a very high tone with
me, I fancy; who are you to speak to me like that?"
_Saint Peter._--"I am Saint Peter; and you?"
_Mrs. B._--"Indeed! and what if you are? Do you think you are going to
have it all your own way here? Do you know that I am a Field-Marshal
of the Salvation Army?"
_Saint Peter._--"Madam; not so loud, pray."
_Mrs. B._--"Six thousand soldiers under my orders. We will see if I am
to be treated anyhow. The idea! A pretty reception for a woman like
me!"
_Saint Peter._--"Will you listen to me a moment?"
_Mrs. B._--"A contributor to the _War Cry_, the official gazette of
the elect ... a million copies printed every week ... three-hundred
thousand pounds receipts ... original inventor of the _blood-and-fire_
pomade and tooth paste ... admiral of the Salvation Fleet."
_Saint Peter._--"Can you spare a moment that I may put in...."
_Mrs. B._--"Barracks all over England ... allies all over the world."
_Saint Peter._--"Will you allow me to...."
_Mrs. B._--"It is easy to see that nobody reads the papers here, or
you would all know who I am. Who am I indeed! (_turning to her
suite_). Did you ever hear such a thing? Who am I?"
_Saint Peter._--"But, once more, madam...."
_Mrs. B._--"Wait a minute, I will just introduce you to my staff ...
you will see who I am ... who we are.... Sallie, speak to the
gentleman."
_Saint Peter._--"But I have no time to listen to...."
_Happy Sallie._--"I am the American tambourinist.... I rescue souls
_tambour battant_."
_Mary Ann._--"I am Captain of the 4th detachment ... allow me to play
you a hymn of my own composition" (_takes up her cornet_).
_Betsy._--"I am the solo-singer of Clapton Barracks; let me sing you
something."
_Saint Peter._--"My good people, do you take these sacred regions for
a Whitsuntide fair? Dear, dear! who sends me all these folks up here?
Will you have done this moment; it's horrible!"
_Mrs. B._--"Now then, make room for my followers, and let us be shown
to the Seraphs' Hall...."
_Saint Peter._--"My worthy friends, I am ready to forgive you. You
have got into the wrong train: your tickets are for Bedlam.... Have
the goodness to retire."
_Mrs. B._--"Retire! Ah! if the General were only here, we should not
be treated like this. We call upon you to show us to the places that
are reserved for us."
_Saint Peter._--"I do not know you."
_Susie._--"I play the Alleluiah trombone."
_Saint Peter._--"There they are, at it again! Go to Jericho, with your
Alleluiah trombone, your tambourines, your field-marshal, your
captains, and blood and fire soldiers.... Those English people will
drive me mad.... Once more, will you move on? You see very well that
you are causing an obstruction, there are elect behind you who cannot
pass in.... Upon my word, those English people look upon Paradise as a
British possession. (_All at once the sweetest music is heard; the
sound of harps becomes more and more audible._) My friends, have the
goodness to stand quite still for a few minutes in a respectful
attitude, whilst these blessed ones are passing." (_Twelve seraphs,
resplendent with light, advance, preceded by lutes and harps; they
smile as they pass before Saint Peter; they continue on their way._)
_Mrs. B._--"Who are those blessed ones so dazzling with light?"
_Saint Peter._--"They are six-winged seraphs of the first hierarchy,
who have been here nearly five hundred years; and I may take the
opportunity of telling you that they have never given me the slightest
trouble. Gentle, peaceful...."
_Mrs. B._--"But who were they on earth? To what sect did they belong?"
_Saint Peter._--"They are Incas, of the ancient empire of Peru."
_Mrs. B._--"What! savages! people who wear rings in their noses! Well,
I never thought to be insulted like this."
_Saint Peter._--"A more virtuous people never existed on earth, madam;
it is virtue put into practice that we reward here, and not
fine-sounding theories. In our eyes, he who has given a drop of water
and a morsel of bread to a poor fellow-creature is more worthy than he
who has discovered a new interpretation of the Holy Scriptures. He who
has done a good deed without ostentation, stands higher here than he
who has sounded a trumpet, and gone to publish his virtue in the
streets and temples. But I should only be wasting time if I tried to
explain these things, which do not seem to be in your line. Consider
yourselves very fortunate not to be turned out of doors with your
trumpets, your drums, and all your noisy and warlike trappings ... and
I will trouble you to pass on into the gardens to repose yourselves
after your journey, and meditate upon the indulgence of...."
_Mrs. B._--"Well, this is the climax! A sermon to me...! (_to her
companions_): Let us go in, my friends; and we must have patience, I
suppose. The General cannot fail to be here before very long. We will
then form a committee, and call an immense meeting of all the English
people that are here ... we will see if it is not possible to place
the keys of Paradise in better hands. (_To Saint Peter_): _Au revoir_,
Saint Peter, we shall meet again."
* * * * *
While this little scene had been passing at the entrance of Paradise,
two of our old friends had just met at the corner of one of the
prettiest groves in the realms of the elect.
_Mrs. Goodman._--"My dear Bartie! It is you, at last!"
_The Reverend B. Goodman._--"Ah! my love, you here! How good it is to
see a face one recognises! Come and sit with me a little on this seat.
(_They sit down._) What a lot you must have to tell me!... Well?"
_Mrs. G._--"Well?"
_Rev. B. G._--"What a disenchantment, eh!"
_Mrs. G._--"If we had only known!"
_Rev. B. G._--"If we could only send a messenger down to tell all
those worthy people!"
_Mrs. G._--"Well! and how about your theory of the ten tribes found?
To hear you talk, my poor Bartie, there was going to be no room here
for anybody but ourselves...."
_Rev. B. G._--"I can't make it out at all; it bewilders me. Just
fancy, my dear, I arrived here last week in the company of a bishop.
At the gate, Saint Peter asked us for our names and qualifications. I
was not long getting through mine, of course; then up speaks the
bishop, in his finest tones, and says: 'John Thomas, lord-bishop of
* * *' 'Bishop!' replies Saint Peter, 'well ... never mind, you may
come in all the same.' Now, what do you think of that _all the same_?"
_Mrs. G._--"Insolent in the extreme. Ah! my dear, that's nothing....
Ever since I have been here, I have had constant mortifications; my
nerves are irritated every moment by what I see and hear--it is to be
hoped I shall get used to it--but it is very trying.... Turn this
way."
_Rev. B. G._--"What for?"
_Mrs. G._--"Don't look, I tell you; there are the Watsons just
passing; I don't want to speak to them.... Fancy their being here! I
am sure I always thought they would be cooked! ... rolling in riches,
and yet putting threepenny bits in the collection-box! ... and
refusing to subscribe to the old spire restoration fund. They got in
cheaply, and no mistake!... It is all very well to talk, but the best
way of proving your interest in a good cause is to put your hand in
your pocket.... Ah! one sees strange things here.... I hope you mean
to speak at the meeting, Bartie dear?"
_Rev. B. G._--"What meeting, my love?"
_Mrs. G._--"What meeting? Ah! my poor dear, don't you know anything
about it? Really, one would think you had just fallen here from the
moon.... How like you!... Alas! always the same apathy; you have not
changed a bit. But thanks be, there are energetic people here, who
have the grievances of their countrymen at heart ... we shall protest
against the indifference that we meet with on all sides here. We shall
call attention to all that we have done on earth, stand upon our
rights, and get up a petition."
_Rev. B. G._--"I suppose you belong to the organising committee?"
_Mrs. G._--"I have placed all my energy at the disposal of the
committee. Ever since I have been here I have been longing to devote
my feeble powers to the revindication of our rights to the undivided
heritage of the highest abode in the realms of the blessed.... Saint
Peter, who, I am bound to say, is very obliging, has kindly consented
to take the chair.... I have had such a great deal to do."
_Rev. B. G._--"As secretary?"