Burned Bridges by Bertrand W. Sinclair (bearly read books txt) 📕

Manner Of Speech,

Their Surroundings,  Even Upon So Minor A Detail As A Smudge Of Flour

Upon The Hand That Mrs. Lachlan Extended To Him. She Was A Fat,

Dusky-Skinned Woman,  Apparently Regarding Thompson With A Feeling Akin

To Awe. The Entire Family,  Which Numbered At Least Nine Souls,  Spoke In

The Broad Dialect Of Their Paternal Ancestors From The Heather Country

Overseas.

 

Thompson Spent An Hour There,  An Hour Which Was Far From Conducive To A

Cheerful Survey Of The Field Wherein His Spiritual Labors Would Lie.

Aside From Sam Carr,  Who Appeared To Be Looked Upon As The Nestor Of The

Chapter 3 (In Which Mr. Thompson Begins To Wonder Painfully) Pg 22

Village,  The Lachlans Were The Only Persons Who Either Spoke Or

Understood A Word Of English. And Thompson Found Himself More Or Less

Tongue-Tied With Them,  Unable To Find Any Common Ground Of Intercourse.

They Were Wholly Illiterate. As A Natural Consequence The World Beyond

The Athabasca Region Was As Much Of An Unknown Quantity To Them As The

North Had Been To Thompson Before He Set Foot In It--As Much Of Its

Needs And Customs Were Yet,  For That Matter. The Lachlan Virtues Of

Simplicity And Kindliness Were Overcast By Obvious Dirt And A General

Slackness. In So Far As Religion Went If They Were--As Breyette Had

Stated--Fond Of Preachers,  It Was Manifestly Because They Looked Upon A

Preacher As A Very Superior Sort Of Person,  And Not Because Of His

Gospel Message.

 

For When Mrs. Lachlan Hospitably Brewed A Cup Of Tea And Thompson Took

The Opportunity Of Making His Customary Prayer Before Food An Appeal

For Divine Essence To Be Showered Upon These Poor Sinful Creatures Of

Earth,  The Lachlan Family Rose From Its Several Knees With An Air Of

Some Embarrassing Matter Well Past. And They Hastened To Converse

Volubly Upon The Weather And The Mosquitoes And Sam Carr's Garden And A

New Canoe That Lachlan's Boys Were Building,  And Such Homely Interests.

As To Church And Service They Were Utterly Dumb,  Patently Unable To

Follow Thompson's Drift When He Spoke Of Those Things. If They Had Souls

That Required Salvation They Were Blissfully Unconscious Of The Fact.

 

But They Urged Him To Come Again,  When He Rose To Leave. They Seemed To

Regard Him As A Very Great Man,  Whose Presence Among Them Was An Honor,

Even If His Purposes Were But Dimly Apprehended.

 

The Three Walked Back Across The Meadow,  Breyette And Macdonald

Chattering Lightly,  Thompson Rather Preoccupied. It Was Turning Out So

Different From What He Had Fondly Imagined It Would Be. He Had Envisaged

A Mode Of Living And A,  And The First Mention In The Diary Reads: "There Is An

Ill-Looking,  Squinting Man Called Bennett,  Formerly Connected With Webb

In The Publication Of His Paper,  Who Is Now Editor Of The _Herald_,  One

Of The Penny Papers Which Are Hawked About The Streets By A Gang Of

Troublesome,  Ragged Boys,  And In Which Scandal Is Retailed To All Who

Delight In It,  At That Moderate Price. This Man And Webb Are Now Bitter

Enemies,  And It Was Nuts For Bennett To Be The Organ Of Mr. Lynch's Late

Vituperative Attack Upon Webb,  Which Bennett Introduced In His Paper

With Evident Marks Of Savage Exultation." To That Famous Masked Ball

Given By The Brevoorts On The Evening Of February 24,  1840,  In Their

House At Ninth Street And Fifth Avenue Hone Went Attired As Cardinal

Wolsey. He Forgot To Tell Of The Romance Of The Night,  The Elopement Of

Miss Barclay And Young Burgwyne,  Devoting His Space To The Expression Of

His Resentment Over The Presence At The Affair Of An Emissary Of

Bennett. "Whether The Notice They" (The Guests) "Took Of Him" (The

"Herald" Reporter),  "And That Which They Extend To Bennett When He Shows

His Ugly Face In Wall Street,  May Be Considered Approbatory Of The

Dirty Slanders And Unblushing Impudence Of The Paper They Conduct,  Or Is

Intended To Purchase Their Forbearance Towards Themselves,  The Effect Is

Equally Mischievous." Again,  Date Of June 2,  1840: "The Punishment Of

The Law Adds To The Fellow's Notoriety,  And Personal Chastisement Is

Pollution To Him Who Undertakes It. Write Him Down,  Make Respectable

People Withdraw Their Support From The Vile Sheet,  So That It Will Be

Considered Disgraceful To Read It,  And The Serpent Will Be Rendered

Harmless." In The Entry Of February 14,  1842,  Bennett Is: "The Impudent

Disturber Of The Public Peace,  Whose Infamous Paper,  The _Herald_,  Is

Chapter 3 (In Which Mr. Thompson Begins To Wonder Painfully) Pg 23

More Scurrilous,  And Of Course More Generally Read,  Than Any Other."

September 2,  1843,  Hone Records That: "Bennett,  The Editor Of The

_Herald_,  Is On A Tour Through Great Britain,  Whence He Furnishes Lies

And Scandal For The Infamous Paper Which Has Contributed So Much To

Corrupt The Morals And Degrade The Taste Of The People Of New York." In

One Of The Last Entries Of The Diary,  A Few Months Before Hone's Death,

Allusion Is Made To A Personal Attack On The Editor By The Defeated

Candidate Of The Locofoco Party For The District-Attorneyship. "I Should

Be Well Pleased To Hear Of This Fellow Being Punished In This Way,  And

Once A Week For The Remainder Of His Life,  So That New Wounds Might Be

Inflicted Before The Old Ones Were Healed,  Or Until The Fellow Left Off

Lying; But I Fear That The Editorial Miscreant In This Case Will Be More

Benefited Than Injured By This Attack."

 

A Man Of Literary Tastes,  Or At Least A Man Who Wished To Be Regarded As

One Of Bookish Inclinations,  Hone Seems Never To Have Had Any Great

Liking For Men Of Letters As Such. All Of The Gifted And Unhappy Poe's

Life In New York Came Within The Period Of The Diary,  But In It Is To Be

Found Not A Single Mention Of His Name. There Was No Place At The Hone

Table For The Shabby,  Impossible Genius. There Was An Impassable Gulf

Between The Well-Ordered Household Facing The City Hall Park,  Or At The

Broadway And Great Jones Street Corner,  And The Humble Carmine Street

Lodging,  Or The Fordham Cottage. Early References To Fenimore Cooper,

Whom Hone First Met At An American Dinner To Lafayette In Paris In 1831,

Are Gracious Enough,  For The Creator Of Leather-Stocking Was A

Personage,  And It Suited Hone To Stand Well With Personages. But When,

Seven Years Later,  Cooper Returned To The United States After His Long

Stay Abroad,  And Incurred The Displeasure Of His Fellow-Countrymen,  Hone

Was Quite Ready To Join In The Hue And Cry.

 

With Washington Irving It Was Another Matter. But Who Could Have Failed

To Feel Genial Towards The Quiet,  Scholarly,  Altogether Charming

Gentleman Of Sunnyside? Also The Legs Of Irving Fitted Well And Often

Under The Hone Mahogany,  And The Part Of The Author That Was Perceptible

Abovrestful

Stillness,--Not To Him. It Was The Hollow Hush Of Huge Spaces Emptied Of

All Life. Life Was At His Elbow Almost But He Could Not Make Himself

Aware Of That. The Forested Wilderness Affected Him Much As A Small

Child Is Affected By The Dark. He Was Not Afraid Of This Depressing

Sense Of Emptiness,  But It Troubled Him.

 

Before Nine O'clock In The Forenoon Had Rolled Around He Set Off With

The Express Purpose Of Making Himself Acquainted With Sam Carr. Carr Was

A White Man,  A Scholar,  Macleod Had Said. Passing Over The Other Things

Macleod Had Mentioned For His Benefit Thompson,  In His Dimly Realized

Need Of Some Mental Stimulus,  Could Not Think Of A White Man And A

Scholar Being Aught But A Special Blessing In That Primeval Solitude.

Thompson Had Run Across That Phrase In Books--Primeval Solitude. He Was

Just Beginning To Understand What It Meant.

 

He Set Out Upon His Quest Of Sam Carr With A Good Deal Of Unfounded

Hope. In His Own World,  Beginning With The Churchly Leanings Of The

Spinster Aunts,  Through The Successive Steps Of Education And His

Ultimate Training For The Ministry As A Profession,  The Theological Note

Had Been The Note In Which He Reasoned And Thought And Felt. His

Environment Had Grounded Him In The Belief That All The World Vibrated

In Unison With The Theological Harmonies. He Had Never Had Any Doubts Or

Chapter 3 (In Which Mr. Thompson Begins To Wonder Painfully) Pg 24

Equivocations. Faith Was Everything,  And He Had Abundance Of Faith. As A

Matter Of Fact,  Until He Encountered Macleod,  The Factor Of Fort

Pachugan,  He Had Never Crossed Swords With A Man Open And Sincere In

Disbelief Based On Rational Grounds. He Had Found Those Who Evaded And

Some Who Were Indifferent,  Many Who Compromised,  Never Before A Sweeping

Denial. He Could Not Picture An Atheist As Other Than A Perverted

Monster,  A Moral Degenerate,  The Personification Of All Evil. This Was

His Conception Of Such As Denied His God. Blasphemers. Foredoomed To

Hell. Yet He Had Found Macleod Hospitable,  Ready With Kindly Advice,

Occupying A Position Of Trust In The Service Of A Great Company. Was It

After All Possible That The Essence Of Christianity Might Not Be The

Exclusive Possession Of Christians?

 

Insensibly He Had To Modify Certain Sweeping Convictions. He Was Not

Conscious Of This Inner Compulsion When He Concluded To Try And Meet Sam

Carr Without Making Theology An Issue. Somehow This Man Carr Began To

Loom In The Background Of His Thought As A Commanding Figure. At Least,

Thompson Said To Himself As He Passed Through The Fringe Of Timber,  Sam

Carr By All Accounts Was A Person To Whom An Educated Man Could Speak

In Words Of More Than Two Syllables Without Meeting The Blank Stare Of

Incomprehension.

 

The Lachlans Were Worthy People Enough,  But--He Shook His Head

Despondently. As For The Crees--Well,  He Had Been At Lone Moose Less

Than Forty-Eight Hours And He Was Wondering If The Board Of Home

Missions Always Shot As Blindly At A Distant Mark. It Would Take Him A

Year To Learn The First Smatterings Of Their Tongue. A Year! He Had

Understood That The Lone Moose Crees Were Partly Under Civilized

Influences. Certainly He Had Believed That His Predecessors In The Field

Had Laid Some Sort Of Foundation For The Work He Was To Carry On. It Was

Considered A Matter Of Course That The Mission Quarters Were Livable,

That Some Sort Of Meeting Place Had Been Provided.

 

There Was A Monetary Basis For That Belief. Some Two Thousand Dollars

Had Been Expended,  Or Perhaps The Better Word Would Be Appropriated,  For

That Purpose. Mr. Thompson Could