A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY by Edward Payson Roe (red seas under red skies .TXT) 📕

Beautiful And Innocent Girl. As A Swift Dark Tide Might Sweep A Summer

Pinnace From Its Moorings, And Dash It On The Rocks Until It Became A

Crushed and Shapeless Thing, So Passion Or Most Untoward Circumstances

Had Suddenly Drawn This Poor Young Creature Among Coarse, Destructive

Vices That Had Shattered the Delicate, Womanly Nature In one Short Year

Into Utter Wreck.

"Come Again," She Whispered in response To Haldane'S Glance; "Come Soon,

Or Else I Shall Be In my Grave, And I'Ve Got The Awful Fear That It Is

The Mouth Of The Bottomless Pit. Otherwise I'D Be Glad To Be In it."

"Poor Child!" Said Haldane, Tears Coming Into His Eyes.

"Ah!" She Gasped, "Will God Pity Me Like That?"

"Yes, For The Bible Says, 'The Lord Is Very Pitiful And Of Tender

Mercy,' My Own Despairing Thoughts Have Taught Me To Look For All Of

God'S Promises."

"You Know Nothing Of The Depths Into Which I Have Fallen," She Said In a

Low Tone; "I Can See That In your Face."

Again Haldane Ejaculated, "Poor Child!" With A Heartfelt Emphasis That

Did More Good Than The Longest Homily. Then Finding The Bible Story

Which Commences, "And, Behold, A Woman In the City, Which Was A Sinner,"

He Turned a Leaf Down Saying:

"I Am Neither Wise Enough Nor Good Enough To Guide You, But I Know That

Mrs. Arnot Will Come And See You. I Shall Leave My Bible With You, And,

Until She Comes, Read Where I Have Marked."

Mrs. Arnot Did Come, And The Pure, High-Born Woman Shut The Door Of The

Narrow Cell, And Taking The Head Of Her Fallen Sister Into Her Lap,

Listened with Responsive Tears To The Piteous Story, As It Was Told With

Sighs, Sobs, And Strong Writhings Of Anguish.

As The Girl Became Calmer And Her Mind Emerged from The Chaos Of Her

Tempestuous And Despairing Sorrow, Mrs. Arnot Led her, As It Were, To

The Very Feet Of Jesus Of Nazareth, And Left Her There With These Words:

"He Came To Seek And Save Just Such As You Are--The Lost. He Is Reaching

Down His Rescuing Hand Of Love To You, And When You Grasp It In simple

Confiding Trust You Are Saved."

Before The Week Closed, The Poor Creature Forever Turned her Face Away

From The World In which She Had So Deeply Sinned and Suffered: But

Before She Departed on The Long Journey, He Who Alone Can Grant To The

Human Soul Full Absolution, Had Said To Her, "Thy Sins Are Forgiven; Go

In Peace."

As Mrs. Arnot Held Her Dying Head She Whispered, "Tell Him That It Was

His Tears Of Honest Sympathy That First Gave Me Hope."

That Message Had A Vital Influence Over Haldane'S Subsequent Life.

Indeed these Words Of The Poor Dying Waif Were Potent Enough To Shape

All His Future Career. He Was Taught By Them The Magnetic Power Of

Sympathy, And That He Who In the Depths Of His Heart Feels For His

Fellow-Creatures, Can Help Them. He Had Once Hoped that He Would Dazzle

Men'S Eyes By The Brilliancy Of His Career, But He Had Long Since

Concluded that He Must Plod Along The Lowly Paths Of Life. Until His

Visit To The Prison And Its Results The Thought Had Scarcely Occurred to

Him That He Could Help Others. He Had Felt That He Had Been Too Sorely

Wounded himself Ever To Be More Than An Invalid In the World'S Hospital;

But He Now Began To Learn That His Very Sin And Suffering Enabled him To

Approach Nearer To Those Who Were, As He Was Once, On The Brink Of

Despair Or In the Apathy Of Utter Discouragement, And To Aid Them More

Effectively Because Of His Kindred experience.

The Truth That He, In the Humblest Possible Way, Could Engage In the

Noble Work For Which He Revered mrs. Arnot, Came Like A Burst Of

Sunlight Into His Shadowed life, And His Visits To The Prison Were

Looked forward To With Increasing Zest.

From Reading The Chapter Merely He Came To Venture On A Few Comments.

Then Questions Were Asked, And He Tried to Answer Some, And Frankly Said

He Could Not Answer Others. But These Questions Stimulated his Mind And

Led to Thought And Wider Reading. To His Own Agreeable Surprise, As Well

As That Of His Prison Class, He Occasionally Was Able To Bring, On The

Following Sabbath, A Very Satisfactory Answer To Some Of The Questions;

And This Suggested the Truth That All Questions Could Be Answered if

Only Time And Wisdom Enough Could Be Brought To Bear Upon Them.

He Gradually Acquired a Facility In expressing His Thoughts, And, Better

Still, He Had Thoughts To Express. Some Of The Prisoners, Who Were In

Durance But For A Brief Time, Asked him To Take A Class In the

Guy-Street Mission Chapel.

"They Will Scarcely Want Me There As A Teacher," He Said With A Slight

Flush.

But The Superintendent And Pastor, After Some Hesitation And Inquiry,

Concluded they Did Want Him There, And With Some Ex-Prisoners As A

Nucleus, He Unobtrusively Formed a Class Near The Door. The Two Marked

Characteristics Of His Christian Efforts--Downright Sincerity And

Sympathy--Were Like Strong, Far-Reaching Hands, And His Class Began To

Grow Until It Swamped the Small Neighboring Classes With Uncouth And

Unkempt-Looking Creatures That Were Drawn By The Voice That Asserted

Their Manhood And Womanhood In spite Of Their Degradation. Finally,

Before Another Year Ended, A Large Side-Room Was Set Apart For Haldane

And His Strange Following, And He Made Every One That Entered it, No

Matter How Debased, Believe That There Were Possibilities Of Good In

Them Yet, And He Was Able To Impart This Encouraging Truth Because He So

Thoroughly Believed it Himself.

As He Stood Before That Throng Of Publicans And Sinners, Gathered from

The Slums Of The City, And, With His Fine Face Lighted up With Thought

And Sympathy, Spoke To Them The Truth In such A Way That They Understood

It And Felt Its Power, One Could Scarcely Have Believed that But Two

Years Before He Had Been Dragged from A Drunken Brawl To The Common

Jail. The Explanation Is Simple--He Had Followed closely That Same

Divine Master Who Had Taught The Fishermen Of Galilee.

Mrs. Haldane And Her Daughters Found European Life So Decidedly To Their

Taste That It Was Doubtful Whether They Would Return For Several Years.

The Son Wrote Regularly To His Mother, For He Had Accepted of The Truth

Of Mrs. Arnot'S Words That Nothing Could Excuse Him From The Sacred

Duties Which He Owed to Her. As His Fortunes Improved and Time Elapsed

Without The Advent Of More Disgraceful Stories, She Also Began To

Respond As Frequently And Sympathetically As Could Be Expected of One

Taking Her Views Of Life. She Was At Last Brought To Acquiesce In his

Plan Of Remaining at Hillaton, If Not To Approve Of It, And After

Receiving One Or Two Letters From Mrs. Arnot, She Was Inclined to

Believe In the Sincerity Of His Christian Profession. She Began To Share

In The Old Lady'S View Already Referred to, That He Might Reach Heaven

At Last, But Could Never Be Received in good Society Again.

"Egbert Is So Different From Us, My Dears," She Would Sigh To Her

Daughters, "That I Suppose We Should Not Judge Him By Our Standards. I

Suppose He Is Doing as Well As He Ever Will--As Well Indeed as His

Singularly Unnatural Disposition Permits."

It Did Not Occur To The Lady That She Was A Trifle Unnatural And

Unchristian Herself In permitting Jealousy To Creep Into Her Heart,

Because Mrs. Arnot Had Wielded a Power For Good Over Her Son Which She

Herself Had Failed to Exert.

She Instructed her Lawyer, However, To Pay To Him An Annuity That Was

Far Beyond His Needs In his Present Frugal Way Of Living.

This Ample Income Enabled him At Once To Carry Out A Cherished purpose,

Which Had Been Forming In his Mind For Several Months, And Which He Now

Broached to Mrs. Arnot.

"For The Last Half Year," He Said, "I Have Thought A Great Deal Over The

Possibilities That Life Offers To One Situated as I Am. I Have Tried to

Discover Where I Can Make My Life-Work, Maimed and Defective As It Ever

Must Be, Most Effective, And It Has Seemed to Me That I Could Accomplish

More As A Physician Than In any Other Calling. In this Character I Could

Naturally Gain Access To Those Who Are In distress Of Body And Mind, But

Who Are Too Poor To Pay For Ordinary Attendance. There Are Hundreds In

This City, Especially Little Children, That, Through Vice, Ignorance, Or

Poverty, Never Receive Proper Attention In illness. My Services Would

Not Be Refused by This Class, Especially If They Were Gratuitous."

"You Should Charge For Your Visits, As A Rule," Said Wise Mrs. Arnot.

"Never Give Charity Unless It Is Absolutely Necessary."

"Well, I Could Charge So Moderately That My Attendance Would Not Be A

Burden. I Am Very Grateful To Mr. Ivison For The Position He Gave Me,

But I Would Like To Do Something More And Better In life Than I Can

Accomplish As His Clerk. A Physician Among The Poor Has So Many Chances

To Speak The Truth To Those Who Might Otherwise Never Hear It. Now This

Income From My Father'S Estate Would Enable Me To Set About The

Necessary Studies At Once, And The Only Question In my Mind Is, Will

They Receive Me At The University?"

"Egbert," Said Mrs. Arnot, With One Of Those Sudden Illuminations Of Her

Face Which He So Loved to See, "Do You Remember What I Said Long Ago,

When You Were A Disheartened prisoner, About My Ideal Of Knighthood? If

You Keep On You Will Fulfil It."

"I Remember It Well," He Replied, "But You Are Mistaken. My Best Hope Is

To Find, As You Said Upon Another Occasion, My Own Little Nook In the

Vineyard, And Quietly Do My Work There."

After Considerable Hesitation The Faculty Of The University Received

Haldane As A Student, And Mr. Ivison Parted with Him Very Reluctantly.

His Studies For The Past Two Years, And Several Weeks Of Careful Review,

Enabled him To Pass The Examinations Required in order To Enter The

Junior Year Of The College Course.

As His Name Appeared among Those Who Might Graduate In two Years, The

World Still Further Relaxed its Rigid And Forbidding aspect, And Not A

Few Took Pains To Manifest To Him Their Respect For His Resolute Upward

Course.

But He Maintained his Old, Distant, Unobtrusive Manner, And No One Was

Obliged to Recognize, Much Less To Show, Any Special Kindness To Him,

Unless They Chose To Do So. He Evidently Shrank With A Morbid

Sensitiveness From Any Social Contact With Those Who, In remembrance Of

His Past History, Might Shrink From Him. But He Had Not Been At The

University Very Long Before Mrs. Arnot Overcame This Diffidence So Far

As To Induce Him To Meet With Certain Manly Fellows Of His Class At Her

House.

In All The Frank And Friendly Interchange Of Thought Between Mrs. Arnot

And The Young Man There Was One To Whom, By Tacit Consent, They Did Not

Refer, Except In the Most Casual Manner, And That Was Laura Romeyn.

Haldane Had Not Seen Her Since The Time She Stumbled upon Him In his

Character Of Wood-Sawyer. He Kept Her Image In a Distant And

Doubly-Locked chamber Of His Heart, And Seldom Permitted his Thoughts To

Go Thither. Thus The Image Had Faded into A Faint Yet Lovely Outline

Which He Had Learned to Look Upon With A Regret That Was Now Scarcely

Deep Enough To Be Regarded as Pain. She Had Made One Or Two Brief Visits

To Her Aunt, But He Had Taken Care Never To Meet Her. He Had Learned

Incidentally, However, That She Had Lost Her Father, And That Her Mother

Was Far From Well.

When Calling Upon Mrs. Arnot One Blustering March Evening, Toward The

Close Of His Junior Year, That Lady Explained her Anxious, Clouded face

By Saying That Her Sister, Mrs. Romeyn, Was Very