The service was not of a very attractive or inspiriting kind. Canon Beecher—his title was a purely9 honorary one, not even involving the duty of preaching in the unpretending building which, in virtue10 of some forgotten history, was dignified11 with the name of Killinacoff Cathedral—read slowly with somewhat ponderous12 emphasis. His thirty years in Holy Orders had slightly hardened an originally luscious13 Dublin brogue, but there remained a certain gentle aspiration14 of the d’s and t’s, and a tendency to omit the labial15 consonants16 altogether. He read an immense number of prayers, gathering17, as it seemed to Hyacinth, the longest ones from the four corners of the Prayer-Book. At intervals18 he allowed himself to be interrupted with a hymn19, but resumed afterwards the steady flow of supplication20. The eldest21 Miss Beecher—the Canon had altogether two daughters and three sons—played a harmonium. The other girl and the three boys, with the assistance of an uncertain bass22 from Mr. Quinn, gave utterance23 to the congregation’s praise. Hyacinth tried to join in the first hymn, which happened to be familiar to him, but quavered into silence towards the end of the second verse, discovering that the eyes of Mrs. Beecher from her pew, of the Canon from the reading-desk, of the vocal24 Miss Beecher and her brothers, were fixed25 upon him. The sermon proved to be long and uninteresting. It was about Melchizedek, and was so far appropriate to the Priest and King that it had no recognisable beginning and need not apparently26 have ever had an end. Perhaps no one, unless he were specially27 trained for the purpose, could have followed right through the quiet meanderings of the Canon’s thought. This kind of sermon, however, has the one advantage that the listener can take it up and drop it again at any point without inconvenience, and Hyacinth was able to give his attention to some sections of it. There was no attempt at eloquence28 or any kind of learning displayed, but he understood, as he listened, where the Quinns got their religion, or at least how their religion was kept alive. Certain very simple things were reiterated29 with a quiet earnestness which left no doubt that the preacher believed exactly what he said, and lived by the light of his faith.
One evening shortly afterwards Canon Beecher called upon Hyacinth. The conversation during the visit resolved itself into a kind of catechism, which, curiously30 enough, was quite inoffensive. The Canon learnt by degrees something of Hyacinth’s past life, and his career in Trinity College. He shook his head gravely over the friendship with Augusta Goold, whom he evidently regarded as almost beyond the reach of the grace of God. Hyacinth was forced to admit, with an increasing sense of shame, that he had never signed a temperance pledge, did not read the organ of the Church Missionary31 Society, was not a member of a Young Men’s Christian32 Association, or even of a Gleaners’ union. He felt, as he made each confession34 sorrowfully, that he was losing all hope of the Canon’s friendship, and was most agreeably surprised when the interview closed with a warm invitation to a mid-day dinner at the Rectory on the following Sunday. Mrs. Quinn, who took a sort of elder sister’s interest in his goings out and comings in, was delighted when she heard that he was going to the Rectory, and assured him that he would like both Mrs. Beecher and the girls. She confided35 afterwards to her husband that the influence of a Christian home was likely to be most beneficial to the ‘poor boy.’
The Rectory displayed none of the signs of easy comfort which had charmed Hyacinth in the Quinns’ house. The floor of the square hall was covered with a cheap, well-worn oilcloth. Its walls were damp-stained, and the only furniture consisted of a wooden chair and a somewhat rickety table. In the middle of the wall hung a large olive-green card with silver lettering. ‘Christ is the unseen Guest in this house,’ Hyacinth read, ‘the Sharer in every pleasure, the Listener to every conversation.’ A fortnight before, he would have turned with disgust from such an advertisement, but now, since he had known the Quinns and listened to the Canon’s wandering sermons, he looked at it with different eyes. He felt that the words might actually express a fact, and that a family might live together as if they believed them to be true.
‘Yes,’ said the Canon, who had come in with him, and saw him gaze at it, ‘these motto-cards are very nice. I bought several of them last time I was in Dublin, and I think I have a spare one left which I can give you if you like. It has silver letters like that one, but printed on a crimson36 ground.’
Evidently the design and the colouring were what struck him as noticeable. The motto itself was a commonplace of Christian living, the expression of a basal fact, quite naturally hung where it would catch the eye of chance visitors.
In the drawing-room Mrs. Beecher and her two daughters, still in their hats and gloves, stood round a turf fire. They made a place at once for Hyacinth, and one of the girls drew forward a rickety basket-work chair, covered with faded cretonne. He was formally introduced to them. Miss Beecher and Miss Elsie Beecher had both, the latter very recently, reached the dignity of young womanhood, and wore long dresses. The three boys, who were younger, were made known afterwards.
When they went into the dining-room the Canon selected the soundest of a miscellaneous collection of chairs for Hyacinth, and seated him beside Mrs. Beecher. Then the elder girl—Miss Beecher’s name, he learnt, was Marion—entered in a long apron37 carrying a boiled leg of mutton followed by her sister with dishes of potatoes and mashed38 parsnips.
‘You see,’ said Mrs. Beecher, and there was no note of apology in her voice as she made the explanation, ‘my girls are accustomed to do a good deal of the house-work. We have only one servant, and she is not very presentable when she has just cooked the dinner.’
Hyacinth glanced at Marion Beecher, who smiled at him with frank friendliness39, as she took her seat beside her father. He saw suddenly that the girl was beautiful. He had not noticed this in church. There he had no opportunity of observing the subtle grace with which she moved, and the half-light left unrevealed the lustrous40 purity of her complexion41, the radiant red and white which only the warm damp of the western seaboard can give or preserve. Her eyes he had seen even in the church, but now first he realized what unfathomable gentleness and what a wonder of frank innocence42 were in them. The Canon looked round the table at his children, and there was a humorous twinkle in his eye when he turned to Hyacinth and quoted:
‘“Your sons shall grow up as young plants, and your daughters shall be as the polished corners of the temple.”’
Perhaps nine-tenths of civilized43 mankind would regard five children as five misfortunes under any circumstances, as quite overwhelming when they have been showered on a man with a very small income, who is obliged to live in a remote corner of Ireland. Apparently the Canon did not look upon himself as an afflicted44 man at all. There was an unmistakable sincerity45 about the way in which he completed his quotation46:
‘“Lo! thus shall the man be blessed that feareth the Lord.”’
It dawned on Hyacinth that quite possibly the Canon’s view of the situation might be the right one. It was certainly wonderfully pleasant to see the girls move through the room, and it seemed to him that they actually realized the almost forgotten ideal of serviceable womanhood. The talk at dinner turned first on the ailments47 of an old woman who was accustomed to clean the church, but was now suspected of being past her work; then, by an abrupt48 transition, on the new hat which the bank-manager’s wife had brought home from Dublin; and, finally, the connection of thought being again far from obvious, on the hymns49 which had been sung that morning. It was at this point that Hyacinth was included in the conversation. Marion Beecher announced that one of the hymns was a special favourite of hers, because she remembered her mother singing the younger children to sleep with it when they were babies. She caught Hyacinth looking at her while she spoke50, and said to him:
‘Do you sing, Mr. Conneally?’
‘I do a little.’
‘Oh, then you must come and help us in the choir51.’ ‘Choir’ seemed a grandiose52 name for the four Beechers and Mr. Quinn, but Marion, who had little experience of anything better, had no misgivings53. ‘I hope you sing tenor54. I always long to have a tenor in my choir. Why, we might have one of Barnby’s anthems55 at Easter, and we haven’t been able to sing one since Mr. Nash left the bank.’
Hyacinth had never sung a part in his life, and could not read music, but he grew bold, and, professing56 to have an excellent ear, said he was willing to learn. The prospect57 of a long series of choir practices conducted by Marion Beecher seemed to him just then an extremely pleasant one.
After dinner, while the two girls cleared away the plates and dishes, Canon Beecher invited Hyacinth to smoke.
‘I never learnt the habit myself,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t so much the fashion in my young days as it is now, but I have no objection whatever to the smell.’
Hyacinth lit a cigarette apologetically. It seemed to him almost a wicked thing to do, but his host evidently wished him to be comfortable. Their talk after the girls had left the room turned on politics. Hyacinth’s confession of his friendship with Augusta Goold had impressed the Canon, and he delivered himself of a very kindly58 little lecture on the duty of loyalty59 and the sinfulness of contention60 with the powers that be. His way of putting the matter neither irritated Hyacinth, like the flamboyant61 Imperialism62 of the Trinity students, nor drove him into self-assertion, like Dr. Henry’s contemptuous reasonableness. Still, he felt bound to make some sort of defence of the opinions which were still his own.
‘Surely,’ he said, ‘there must be some limit to the duty of loyalty. If a Government has no constitutional right to rule, is a man bound to be loyal to it?’
‘I think,’ said the Canon, ‘that the question is decided63 for us. Is it not, Mr. Conneally? “Render unto Caesar”—you remember the verse. Even if the Government were as unconstitutional as you appear to think, it would not be more so than the Roman Government of Judaea when these words were spoken.’
Hyacinth pondered this answer. It opened up to him an entirely64 new way of looking at the subject, and he could see that it might be necessary for a Christian to acquiesce65 without an attempt at resistance in any Government which happened to exist.
He remembered other verses in the New Testament66 which could be quoted even more conclusively67 in favour of this passive obedience68. Yet he felt that there must be a fallacy lurking69 somewhere. It was, on the face of it, an obvious absurdity70 to think that a man, because he happened to be a Christian, was therefore bound to submit to any form of tyranny or oppression.
‘Suppose,’ he said—‘I only say suppose—that a Government did immoral71 things, that it robbed or allowed evil-disposed people to rob, would it still be right to be loyal?’
‘I think so,’ said the Canon quietly.
Hyacinth looked at him in astonishment72.
‘Do you mean to say that you yourself would be loyal under such circumstances?’
‘I prefer not to discuss the question in that personal way, but the Church to which you and I belong is loyal still, although the Government has robbed us of our property and our position, and although it is now allowing our people to be robbed still further.’
‘You mean by the Disestablishment and the Land Acts?’
‘Yes. I think it is our great glory that our loyalty is imperishable, that it survives even such treatment as we have received and are receiving.’
‘That is very beautiful,’ said Hyacinth slowly. ‘I see that there is a great nobility in such loyalty, although I do not even wish to share it myself. You see, I am an Irishman, and I want to see my country great and free.’
‘I suppose,’ said the Canon, ‘that it is very natural that we should love the spot on earth in which we live. I think that I love Ireland too. But we must remember that our citizenship73 is in heaven, and it seems to me that any departure from the laws of the King of that country dishonours74 us, and even dishonours the earthly country which we call our own.’
Hyacinth said nothing. There flashed across him a recollection of Augusta Goold’s hope that some final insult would one day goad75 the Irish Protestants into disloyalty. Clearly, if Canon Beecher was to be regarded as a type, she had no conception of the religious spirit of the Church of Ireland. But was there anyone else like this clergyman? He did not know, but he guessed that his friends the Quinns would think of the matter in somewhat the same way. It seemed to him quite possible that in scattered77 and remote parishes this strangely unreasonable78 conception of Christianity might survive. After a pause the Canon went on:
‘You must not think that I do not love Ireland too. I look forward to seeing her free some day, but with the freedom of the Gospel. It will not be in my time, I know, but surely it will come to pass. Our people have still the simple faith of the early ages, and they have many very beautiful virtues79. They only want the dawn of the Dayspring from on high to shine on them, and then Ireland will be once more the Island of Saints—insula sanctorum.’ He dwelt tenderly on the two words. ‘I do not think it will matter much then what earthly Government bears rule over us. But come, I see that you have finished your smoke, and I must go to my study to think over my sermon.’
When Hyacinth entered the drawing-room the girls surrounded him, asking him for answers to a printed list of questions. It appeared that the committee of a bazaar80 for some charity in which it was right to be interested had issued a sort of examination-paper, and promised a prize to the best answerer. The questions were all of one kind: ‘What is the Modern Athens—the Eternal City—the City of the Tribes? Who was the Wizard of the North—the Bulwark81 of the Protestant Faith? The earlier names on the list presented little difficulty to Hyacinth. Marion took down his answers, whilst Elsie murmured a pleasant chorus of astonishment at his cleverness. Suddenly he came to a dead stop. ‘Who was the Martyr82 of Melanesia?’
‘I have never heard of him,’ said Hyacinth.
‘Never heard of the Martyr of Melanesia!’ said Elsie. ‘Why, we knew that at once.’
‘Yes,’ said Marion, ‘there was an article on him in last month’s Gleaner33. Surely you read the Gleaner, Mr. Conneally?’
Hyacinth felt Marion’s eyes fixed on him with something of a reproach in them. He wrestled83 with a vague recollection of having somewhere heard the name of the periodical. For a moment he thought of risking cross-questioning, and saying that he had only missed the last number. Then he suddenly remembered the card with silver lettering which hung above his coat in the hall, and told the truth with even a quite unnecessary aggravation84.
‘No, I never remember seeing a copy of it in my life. I don’t even know what it is about.’
‘Oh!’ said the girls, round-eyed with horror. ‘Just think! And we all have collecting-boxes.’
‘It is a missionary periodical,’ said Marion. ‘It has news in it from every corner of the mission-field, and every month a list of the stations that specially need our prayers.’
Hyacinth left the Rectory that night with three well-read numbers of the Gleaner in his pocket.
Afterwards he had many talks with Canon Beecher and the Quinns about the work of the missionary societies. He learnt, to his surprise, that really immense sums of money were subscribed85 every year by members of the Church of Ireland for the conversion86 of the heathen in very remote parts of the world. It could not be denied that these contributions represented genuine self-denial. Young men went without a sufficiency of tobacco, and refrained from buying sorely-needed new tennis-racquets. Ladies, with the smallest means at their command, reared marketable chickens, and sold their own marmalade and cakes. In such ways, and not from the superfluity of the rich, many thousands of pounds were gathered annually87. It was still more wonderful to him to discover that large numbers of young men and women, and these the most able and energetic, devoted88 themselves to this foreign service, and that their brothers and sisters at home were banded together in unions to watch their doings and to pray for them. He found himself entirely untouched by this enthusiasm, in spite of the beautiful expression it found in the lives of his new friends.
But it astonished him greatly that there should be this potent89 energy in the Irish Church. The utter helplessness of its Bishops90 and clergy76 in Irish affairs, the total indifference91 of its people to every effort at national regeneration, had led him to believe that the Church itself was moribund92. Now he discovered that there was in it an amazing vitality93, a capacity of giving birth to enthusiastic souls. The knowledge brought with it first of all a feeling of intense irritation94. It seemed to him that all religions were in league against Ireland. The Roman Church seized the scanty95 savings96 of one section of the people, and squandered97 them in buying German glass and Italian marble. Were the Protestants any better, when they spent ￡20,000 a year on Chinamen and negroes? The Roman Catholics took the best of their boys and girls to make priests and nuns98 of them. The Protestants were doing the same thing when they shipped off their young men and young women to spend their strength among savages99. Both were robbing Ireland of what Ireland needed most—money and vitality. He would not say, even to himself, that all this religious enthusiasm was so much ardour wasted. No doubt the Roman priest did good work in Chicago, as the Protestant missionary did in Uganda; only it seemed to him that of all lands Ireland needed most the service and the prayers of those of her children who had the capacity of self-forgetfulness. Afterwards, when he thought more deeply, he found a great hope in the very existence of all this altruistic100 enthusiasm. He had a vision of all that might be done for Ireland if only the splendid energy of her own children could be used in her service. He tried more than once to explain his point of view. Mr. Quinn met him with blank disbelief in any possible future for Ireland.
‘The country is doomed,’ he said. ‘The people are lazy, thriftless, and priest-ridden. The best of them are flying to America, and those that remain are dying away, drifting into lunatic asylums101, hospitals, and workhouses. There is a curse upon us. In another twenty years there will be no Irish people—at least, none in Ireland. Then the English and Scotch102 will come and make something of the country.’
From Canon Beecher he met with scarcely more sympathy or understanding.
‘Yes,’ he admitted, ‘no doubt we ought to make more efforts than we do to convert our fellow-countrymen. But it is very difficult to see how we are to go to work. There is one society which exists for this purpose. Its friends are full of the very kind of enthusiasm which you describe. I could point you out plenty of its agents whose whole souls are in their work, but you know as well as I do how completely they are failing.’
‘But,’ said Hyacinth, ‘I do not in the least mean that we should start more missions to Roman Catholics. It does not seem to me to matter much what kind of religion a man professes103, and I should be most unwilling104 to uproot105 anyone’s belief. What we ought to do is throw our whole force and energy into the work of regenerating106 Ireland. It is possible for us to do this, and we ought to try.’
‘Well, well,’ said the Canon, ‘I must not let you make me argue with you, Conneally; but I hope you won’t preach these doctrines107 of yours to my daughters. I think it is better for them to drop their pennies into missionary collecting-boxes, and leave the tangled108 problems of Irish politics to those better able to understand them than we are.’
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1
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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pawnbroker
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| n.典当商，当铺老板 | |
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encumbered
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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aspiration
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| n.志向，志趣抱负；渴望；(语)送气音；吸出 | |
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labial
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| adj.唇的；唇音的；n.唇音，风琴管 | |
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consonants
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| n.辅音，子音( consonant的名词复数 )；辅音字母 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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fixed
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apparently
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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gleaner
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| n.拾穗的人；割捆机 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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crimson
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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mashed
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| a.捣烂的 | |
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friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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ailments
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| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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51
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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52
grandiose
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| adj.宏伟的，宏大的，堂皇的，铺张的 | |
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53
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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54
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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55
anthems
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| n.赞美诗( anthem的名词复数 )；圣歌；赞歌；颂歌 | |
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professing
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| 声称( profess的现在分词 )； 宣称； 公开表明； 信奉 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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contention
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| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
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flamboyant
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| adj.火焰般的，华丽的，炫耀的 | |
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imperialism
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| n.帝国主义，帝国主义政策 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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acquiesce
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| vi.默许，顺从，同意 | |
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testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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conclusively
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| adv.令人信服地，确凿地 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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citizenship
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| n.市民权，公民权，国民的义务(身份) | |
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dishonours
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| 不名誉( dishonour的名词复数 )； 耻辱； 丢脸； 丢脸的人或事 | |
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goad
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| n.刺棒，刺痛物；激励；vt.激励，刺激 | |
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clergy
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| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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bazaar
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| n.集市，商店集中区 | |
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bulwark
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| n.堡垒，保障，防御 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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aggravation
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| n.烦恼，恼火 | |
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subscribed
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| v.捐助( subscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；签署，题词；订阅；同意 | |
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conversion
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| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
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annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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bishops
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| （基督教某些教派管辖大教区的）主教( bishop的名词复数 )； （国际象棋的）象 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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moribund
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| adj.即将结束的，垂死的 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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squandered
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| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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nuns
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| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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altruistic
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| adj.无私的，为他人着想的 | |
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asylums
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| n.避难所( asylum的名词复数 )；庇护；政治避难；精神病院 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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103
professes
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| 声称( profess的第三人称单数 )； 宣称； 公开表明； 信奉 | |
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104
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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105
uproot
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| v.连根拔起，拔除；根除，灭绝；赶出家园，被迫移开 | |
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regenerating
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| v.新生，再生( regenerate的现在分词 )；正反馈 | |
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107
doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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