When Hyacinth tapped at the study door and entered, the room was almost dark, and the sermon preparation, if proceeding9 at all, can have got no further than the preliminary concatenation of ideas. The Canon, however, was aggressively, perhaps suspiciously, wide awake.
‘Who is that?’ he asked. ‘Oh, Conneally, it is you. I am very glad to see you. Curiously10 enough, I thought of going down to call on you this afternoon. I wanted to have a talk with you. I dare say you have come up to consult me.’
Hyacinth was astonished. How could anyone have guessed what he came about? Had Marion told her father already?
‘It is a sad business,’ the Canon went on—’ very distressing11 and perplexing indeed. But so far as you personally are concerned, Conneally, I cannot regard it as an unmixed misfortune. You were meant for something better, if I may say so, than selling blankets. Now, I have a plan for your future, which I talked over last week with an old friend of yours. Now that something has been settled about the Quinns, we must all give our minds to your affairs.’
Then Hyacinth understood that Canon Beecher expected to be consulted about his future plans, and even had some scheme of his own in mind.
‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘I shall be very glad of your help and advice, although I think I have decided12 about what I am going to do. It was not on that subject I came to speak to you to-day, but on another, more important, I think, for you and for me and for Marion.’
‘For Marion?’
‘I ought to tell you at once that I love your daughter Marion, and I am sure that she loves me. I want to marry her.’
‘My dear boy! I had not the slightest idea of this. It is one of the most extraordinary things—or perhaps extraordinary is not exactly the proper word—one of the most surprising things I——’
The Canon stopped abruptly13 and sat stroking his chin with his forefinger14 in the effort to adjust his mind to the new situation presented to it. It was characteristic of the man that the thought of Hyacinth’s poverty was not the first which presented itself. Indeed, Canon Beecher was one of those unreasonable15 Christians16 who are actually convinced of the truth of certain paradoxical sayings in the Gospel about wealth and poverty. He believed that there were things of more importance in life than the possession of money. Fortunately, such Christians are rare, for their absurd creed17 forms a standing18 menace to the existence of Church and sect19 alike. Fortunately also, ecclesiastical authorities have sufficient wisdom to keep these eccentrics in the background, confining them as far as possible to remote and obscure places. If ever a few of them escape into the open and find means of expressing themselves, the whole machinery20 of modern religion will become dislocated, and the Church will very likely relapse into the barbarity of the Apostolic age.
‘I believe, Conneally,’ said the Canon at last, ‘that you are a good man. I do not merely mean that you are moral and upright, but that you sincerely desire to follow in the footsteps of the Master.’
He looked as if he wanted some kind of answer, at least a confirmation22 of his belief. Fresh from his interview with Marion, and having the Canon’s eyes upon him, it did not seem impossible to Hyacinth to answer yes. Even the thought of the work he was to engage in with Miss Goold and Patrick O’Dwyer seemed to offer no ground for hesitation23. Was he not enlisting24 with them to take part in the great battle? He had never ceased to believe his father’s words: ‘And the battlefield is Ireland—our dear Ireland which we love!’ He felt for the moment that he was altogether prepared to make the confession25 of faith the Canon required.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I am on His side.’
‘And you love Marion? Are you quite sure of that? Are you certain that this is not a passing fancy?’
This time Hyacinth had no doubt whatever about his answer.
‘I am as certain of my love as I am of anything in the world.’
‘I am glad. I am very glad that this has happened—for your sake, because I have always liked you; also for Marion’s sake. I shall see you happy because you love one another, and because you both love the Lord. I ask no more than those two things. But I must go and tell my wife at once. She will be glad, too.’
He rose and went to the door. With his hand stretched out to open it he stopped, struck by a sudden thought.
‘By the way, I ought to ask you—if you mean to be married—have you any—I mean it is necessary—I hope you won’t think I am laying undue26 stress upon such matters, but I really—I mean we really ought to consider what you are to live upon.’
It was the prospect27 of imparting the news to his wife which forced this speech from him. Mrs. Beecher was, indeed, the least worldly of women. Did she not marry the Canon, then a mere21 curate, on the slenderest income, and bear him successively five babies in defiance28 of common prudence29? But it had fallen to her lot to order the affairs of the household, and she had learnt that the people who give you bread and beef demand, after an interval30, more or less money in exchange. It was likely that, after her first rapture31 had subsided32, she would make some inquiry33 about Hyacinth’s income and prospects34. The Canon felt he ought to be prepared.
‘Of course, I have lost my position with Mr. Quinn. You know that. But I have an offer of work which I hope will lead on to something better, and will enable me in a short time to earn enough money to marry on. You know—or perhaps you don’t, for I am afraid I never told you‘—he remembered that he had carefully concealed35 his connection with the Croppy from his friends at Ballymoy, and paused—‘I have done some little writing. Oh, nothing very much—not a book, or anything like that, only a few articles for the press. Well, a friend of mine has got me the offer of a post in connection with a weekly paper. It is not a very great thing in itself just now, but it may improve, and there is always the prospect of picking up other work of the same kind.’
The Canon, who had never seen even an abstract of one of his own sermons in print, had a proper reverence36 for the men who guide the world’s thought through the press.
‘That is very good, Conneally—very satisfactory indeed. I always knew you had brains. But why did you never tell me what you were doing? I should have been deeply interested in anything you wrote.’
Hyacinth’s conscience smote37 him.
‘The truth is, that I was sure you wouldn’t approve of the paper I wrote for. It is the Croppy, the organ of the extreme left wing of the Nationalist party. It is Miss Goold—Augusta Goold—who now offers me work on that paper. She says—— But you had better read what she says for yourself. Then you will know the worst of it.’
He took the letter from his pocket. The Canon lit a candle and read it through slowly and attentively38. When he had finished he laid it upon the table and sat down. Hyacinth waited in extreme anxiety for what was to come.
‘I do not like the cause you mean to work for or the people you call your friends. I would rather see my daughter’s husband doing almost anything else in the world. I would be happier if you proposed to break stones upon the roadside. You know what my political opinions are. I regard the Croppy as a disloyal and seditious paper, bent39 upon fostering a dangerous spirit.’
Hyacinth listened patiently. He had steeled himself against the hearing of some such words, and was determined40 not to be moved to argument or self-defence except as a last resort.
‘I hope,’ he said, ‘that you will at least give me credit for honestly acting2 in accordance with my convictions.’
‘I am sure—quite sure—that you are honest, and believe that your cause is the right one. I recognise, too, though this is a very difficult thing to do, that you have every right to form and hold your own political opinions. It seems to me that they are very wrong and very mischievous41, but it is quite possible that I am mistaken and prejudiced. In any case, I am not called upon to refuse you my affection or to separate you from my daughter because we differ about politics.’
Hyacinth breathed a great sigh of relief. He looked at the Canon in wonder and admiration42. It had been beyond hope that a man grown gray in a narrow faith, a faith in which for centuries religion and politics had been inextricably blended, could have risen in one clear flight above the mire43 of prejudice. It seemed, even after he had spoken, impossible that in Ireland, where political opponents believe each other to be thieves and murderers, there could be found even one man, and he from the least emancipated45 class of all, who could understand and practise tolerance46.
‘I say,’ went on the Canon, speaking very slowly, and with evident difficulty, ‘that I have no right to put you away from me because of your political opinions. But there is something here ‘—he touched Miss Goold’s letter—’ from which I must by all means try to save you. Will you let me speak to you, not as Marion’s father, not even as your friend, but as Christ’s ambassador set here to watch for your soul? But I need not excuse myself for what I am about to say. You will at least listen to me patiently.’
He took up Miss Goold’s letter and searched through it for a short time; then he read aloud:
‘“He just asked one question about you: Does Mr. Conneally hate England and the Empire and everything English, from the Parliament to the police barrack? For it is this hatred47 which must animate48 our work. I said I thought you did.” Now consider what those words mean. You are to dedicate your powers, the talents God has given you, to preaching a gospel of hate. This is not a question of politics. I am ready to believe that in the contest of which our unhappy country is the battle-ground a man may be either on your side or mine, and yet be a follower49 of Christ. It is impossible to think that anyone can deliberately50, with his eyes open, accept hatred for the inspiration of his life and still be true to Him.’
Hyacinth was greatly moved by the solemnity with which the Canon spoke44. There was that in him which witnessed to the truth of what he heard. Yet he refused to be convinced. When he spoke it was clear that he was not addressing his companion, for his eyes were fixed51 upon the picture of the Good Shepherd, faintly illuminated52 by the candle light. He desired to order his own thought on the dilemma53, to justify54, if he could, his own position to himself. ‘It is true that the Gospel of Christ is a Gospel of love. Yet there are circumstances in which it is wrong to follow it. Is it possible to rouse our people out of their sordid55 apathy56, to save Ireland for a place among the nations, except by preaching a mighty57 indignation against the tyranny which has crushed us to the dust?’
He felt that Canon Beecher’s eyes never left him for a moment while he spoke. He looked up, and saw in them an intense pleading. There stole over him a desire to yield, to submit himself to this appealing tenderness. He defended himself desperately58 against his weakness.
‘I am not choosing the pleasanter way. It would be easier for me to give up the fight for Ireland, to desert the beaten side, to forget the lost cause.’ He turned to Canon Beecher, speaking almost fiercely: ‘Do you think it is a small thing for me to surrender your friendship, and perhaps—perhaps to lose Marion? Is there not some of the nobility of sacrifice in refusing to listen to you?’
‘I cannot argue with you. No doubt you are cleverer than I am. But I know this—God is love, and only he who dwelleth in love dwelleth in God.’
‘But I do love: I love Ireland.’
‘Ah yes; but He says, “Love your enemies.”’
‘Then,’ said Hyacinth, ‘I will not have Him for my God.’
Hardly had he spoken than he started and grew suddenly cold. It was no doubt some trick of memory, but he believed that he heard very faintly from far off a remembered voice:
‘Will you be sure to know the good side from the bad, the Captain from the enemy.’
They were the last words his father had said to him. They had passed unregarded when they were spoken, but lingered unthought of in some recess59 of his memory. Now they came on him full of meaning, insistent60 for an answer.
‘You have chosen,’ said the Canon.
He had chosen. Could he be sure that he had chosen right, that he knew the good side from the bad?
‘You have chosen, and I have no more to say. Only, before it becomes impossible for you and me to kneel together, I ask you to let me pray with you once more. You can do this because you still believe He hears us, although you have decided to walk no more with Him.’
They knelt together, and Hyacinth, numbly61 indifferent, felt his hand grasped and held.
‘O Christ,’ said Canon Beecher, ‘this child of Thine has chosen to live by hatred rather than by love. Do Thou therefore remove love from him, lest it prove a hindrance62 to him on the way on which he goes. Let the memory of the cross be blotted63 out from his mind, so that he may do successfully that which he desires.’
Hyacinth wrenched64 his hand free from the grasp which held it, and flung himself forward across the table at which they knelt. Except for his sobs65 and his choking efforts to subdue66 them, there was silence in the room. Canon Beecher rose from his knees and stood watching him, his lips moving with unspoken supplication67. At last Hyacinth also rose and stood, calm suddenly.
‘You have conquered me,’ he said.
‘My son, my son, this is joy indeed! All along I knew He could not fail you. But I have not conquered you. The Lord Jesus has saved you.’
‘I do not know,’ said Hyacinth slowly, ‘whether I have been saved or lost. I am not sure even now that I know the good side from the bad. But I do know that I cannot live without the hope of being loved by Him. Whether it is the better part to which I resign myself I cannot tell. No doubt He knows. As for me, if I have been forced to make a great betrayal, if I am to live hereafter very basely—and I think I am—at least I have not cut myself off from the opportunity of loving Him.’
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1
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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obtrude
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| v.闯入；侵入；打扰 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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9
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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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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distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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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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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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14
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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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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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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sect
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| n.派别，宗教，学派，派系 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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enlisting
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| v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的现在分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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31
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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36
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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37
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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41
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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42
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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44
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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45
emancipated
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| adj.被解放的，不受约束的v.解放某人（尤指摆脱政治、法律或社会的束缚）( emancipate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
tolerance
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| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
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47
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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48
animate
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| v.赋于生命，鼓励；adj.有生命的，有生气的 | |
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49
follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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50
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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51
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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52
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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53
dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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54
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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55
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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56
apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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57
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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58
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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59
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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60
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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61
numbly
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| adv.失去知觉，麻木 | |
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62
hindrance
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| n.妨碍，障碍 | |
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63
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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64
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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65
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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66
subdue
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| vt.制服，使顺从，征服；抑制，克制 | |
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supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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