Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes

by Bronte Sisters

  Those chosen vessels being rigid Teatotallers and knowing that when recieved gratis creature comforts were never refused by their beloved brother, were at first alarmed lest some hospitable brother or more probably sister, had tempted the lords servant over night — but when wiping his perspiring brow, the Rev Simon gasped out that the “RICH” gentleman at the Thurston Arms wanted them — they too caught a wild infection and each dashing his hat over his brows with the back run in front they burst through gathering the crowd of long and short horns — stopped not to rebuke the glaring lies which were bursting from each dealers lips, and soon made their appearance before the bar of the Thurtson Arms. Once only Bottomley asked Fleshbotham “Whats our Chapel debt?”

  “£=s= /”

  “Oh nonsense” — said Slugg “Say at once — Its the lords work!”

  Messrs Fleshbotham and Bottomley were beauties of the order combining that interesting union of darkness and pallor so assiduously cultivated by those that prefer the straight and narrow path. If their necks were not swanlike they yet stretched several inches above their carelessly tied white neckcloths and so far as stature may become a man, and flexibility be termed a constituent of grace, their lanky figures and loose jointed limbs proclaimed them to be model Apollos. Their Rev brother, though a few inches beneath the heroic standard, made amends by capacity of body for all he might be deficient in as to height and though his face looked like a pale “whangby” cheese, yet it was juicy enough to cause it to shine like the full moon through a fog.

  Such as they were, the children of grace were admitted to the breakfast room, and saw first what made their fasting bowels yearn — a large table covered with the reliquae of a sportsmans morning meal — and next five very unevangelical ‘professors’ seated over “Fireballs” each consisting of a wine glass of brandy with the yolk of an egg dropped into it; but the object of their attraction stood before them on the hearth rug — a very tall divine looking saint, with eyes distorted almost to a squint — a mouth that changed its play each moment from wrapt solemnity to malicious drollery, and a pair of orange whiskers horribly out of harmony with the holy sable of his scrupulously neat attire.

  As the trio kept each man his mouth open it followed that, physiologically considered, they could not speak — so Mr Percy began with a voice whose sonorous and noble tone gave them delightful anticipations of the effect of ensuing speeches in the Chapel —

  “My Christian friends — Welcome in His name — come forward — Do your bodies need refreshment?”

  “Why Sir, Why, no — That is we have hoped so much from an early exhibition of what He can do, that — in short Sir we thought breakfast beneath notice.”

  “Refuse not the gifts offered — You will doubtless use that decanter of brandy in your coffee, for your stomachs sake and your many infirmities — Allow me ere you assume your seats, to introduce my respected brother Montmorency — long a fellow labourer in foreign climes — Brother O’ Connor, a saved sinner — now a child of grace — If ever man had the root of the matter in him he has — (’Damn it’ — growled poor O’ Connor — sotto voce — ‘Its never shewn a sprout yet’) Brother Quashia Quamina — I might even say — dearest brother (Here the Moor, without being aware, took two fire balls one after the other.) He is indeed a brand snatched from the burning”

  O Connor had here nearly spoiled the play by suddenly vociferating “I’ll be blessed — only look at him — if he is not burnt already!” — but a withering scowl from Mr Percy silenced the Slavers Captain —

  “Excuse Brother O’ Connor, my dear fellow laborours — He has put on the robe of godliness, but the old Adam now and then gives him a grip — Yet he is zealous my dear friends — he is zealous — My friends the native of the benighted land of Africa has been a chosen vessel for the evil one and after unheard of sins, brutalities, torturings — headings — hangings, roastings fleaings alive — burning man woman and child — crushing a thousand slaves into a one hundred ton slaver — in fact after having done all that Satan could do if let suddenly loose from Hell, He has become a burning and a shining light”

  Here the three Wesleyans exchanged looks of exstatic delight — The idea of such heavenly converted sinners — of the thrilling experiences, the startling disclosures they would be able to give in the Chapel formed a prospect almost too rich; but poor Quamina so little understood his friends description of his character that nothing save Percys squinting glance prevented him from doffing his coat for a set-to on the spot.

  “My beloved brother Mr Simpson” continued Percy “Is a Banker (Here the trio involuntarily rose to do homage) “but He holds his purse, and my brother only considers himself as a steward” (poor Jeremiah buttoned, at this part of the address, both breaches pockets) “My dear brother Gordon comes last — He has not been the least of sinners — Hell has had hard hard hold upon him but he has escaped with the skin of his teeth — I never knew so great a reprobate or have seen so great a change! Indeed my Christian friends all in this room whom I have introduced to you have been the very vilest of sinners — Every crime of which human nature can be guilty, they have committed — every evil thought which could enter mans heart has blackened theirs; They have been eaten up with the filthiest sores of the souls leprosy — (Here O’ Connor could hold no longer, but roared out ‘I’ve a skin as fair as yours!’) Excuse our brothers sailor like bluntness; it is only a little of the old leaven — there is not one of our dear brethren who ought not to be hung in chains long since — but thanks be to Him — they are now like lambs wool washed at the springs of Jordan!”

  As ‘The viler the sinner, the greater the saint’ the three visitors looked up from plates filled a second time with the cold round — each giving a groan of intense satisfaction partly the result of a full heart and partly that of a full stomach. Mr Percy continued

  “Brethren Providence hath given me a small endowment of carnal comforts — praised be His name — and I propose amid the sins and follies of this vanity fair, to devote my mite to the carrying out of the great work — So I shall request that you will allow me an open and lighted Chapel at o’clock this evening, wherein a short missionary experience may be given you by my dear repentant bretheren, and myself who am lower than the most ignorant sucklings in grace. I beg to place in the hands of my reverend brother in the bonds a small matter of this earthly dross to aid in printing bills and lighting the tabernacle of prayer.”

  So saying Mr Percy meekly deposited ten sovereigns in the hand of the Rev S. Slugg who trembled with the excess of his gratitude and looked at his benefactors boots as if he thought his tongue would be benefited by becoming their shoe black.

  “You will oblige me — brother — a — a — whats your name?”

  Slugg — Slugg — my dearest Sir!”

  “Well — by drawing up a small bill for this evenings meeting”

  Mr Slugg was not long ere his pen was flying fast and furious over a half sheet of paper, and in due time his labours produced — with a little assistance from Mr Momtmorency — the following veracious handbill.

  “SANCTIFICATION CHAPEL.

  Ardmore.

  At o’clock in the Evening of this day there will be held a special extraordinary meeting of the Wesleyan Missionary Society wherein light will be given from lamps fed with the oil of the ten virgins! The horrors of Sin — the iniquities of Heathenism — the cruelties of the slave trade — will be fully exemplified in the experience of several soul saved Sinners sanctified unto Salvation!

  Those beloved bretheren, once

  lost and now restored — viz.

  QUASHIA. QUAMINA.

  Formerly a slave in Africa, then a slave driver — next a slave owner, and after wards a pirate captain —

  ARTHUR. O’ CONNOR.

  who declares that he has been nearer to the arm pits in black and white blood than any sinner that ever Gods vengeance neglected to kick to Hell —

  GEORGE. GORDON.

  who solemnly declar
es that if he fully gave his experience the roof would fly from the best built Lords House in England —

  JEREMIAH SIMPSON ESQr’.

  The great Banker who taketh for his motto “Freely thou hast recieved — freely give’.

  HECTOR. M. M. MONTMORENCY.

  A humble gleaner in the harvest of souls

  AND

  ALEXANDER. PERCY. ESQR. M.P. PERCY HALL.

  ALNWICK HALL. ELRINGTON HOUSE. HANTS. AND

  NORTHANGERLAND HOUSE.

  LONDON.

  Who will lend to the aid of the Society his invalauble religious attainments — his untiring energies, his unequalled eloquence and his unparalleled benevolence.

  Silver will most thankfully be recieved in the galleries, and friends who desire front pews will be expected to deposit s — into the hands of the Treasurer,

  Simon Slugg.

  N. B. The Classes will be called to prayer after the collection, when it is expected that A. PERCY. ESQR. MP. will address them.”

  “That will do” said Mr Percy as Hector with a ludicrous grin handed him the flattering expose of his companions former life and conversation — “Now my dear freinds in the sacred cause, let this production be distributed extensively throughout the town and; ’ere evening put on the whole armour of righteousness, so that I — even I — David may with a sling and a stone slay the Philistine — even the man of sin — the old man Adam. Good Morning my dear brethren.”

  Thus, with a stately gesture, Mr Percy bowed his three confounded but triumphing visitors from the room — and then taking one other cup of Coffee dashed with brandy, he beckoned Hector to follow him and both departed either into another apartment, or on some confidential walk.

  Those who remained behind, after a torrent of sighs and execrations, resigned themselves to stern fate, and swore that — black as they had been described, they would see the fun out though their usage was scurvy enough to turn a tortoise into a tiger.

  “What shall we do — for I can only say ‘unaccustomed as I am to public speaking’ and I know the Bible as well as you know the Koran” remarked Mr Quamina sorrowfully looking at his Old Companion in arms

  “The practical part of the affair is that I fear I shall begin by sending the whole chapel bodily to Hell — and then would’nt Percy storm a trifle!” answered O’ Connor — but friendly advice was at hand for at this moment the waiter entered with a note addressed to the lachrymose gentlemen, which being opened proved to be in Hectors handwriting —

  “The Vestry — Santification Chapel

  Well, my beloved brethren — I always thought you were rogues but, till now I did not know that you were fools — But out of pity to your babyhood I’ll just give you one fresh wrinkle in your strait — One fact is clear — that you must appear and speak unto improvement to night — But how are you to fructify when I question whether you ever opened the blessed pages since you first robbed your papa’s orchard. Now mark me old fellows. Dress yourselves in black, or as our holy friend would say ‘put on the whole armour of righteousness’, sling round your thrapples a white neckercheif — and, when you are called on, LIE left and right as if according to the holy word you were lying “with a cart rope’. In blackening yourselves from your cradle to your conversion beat the powers of the imp who polishes the boots of Satan. If you can find words to picture earth as worse than Hell do so — but pray do not get too drunk ere you enter the sacred portal — I dont care about a dozen tumblers, but not one more except to Jeremiah who in consideration of his natural phlegm may be allowed the bakers or the devils dozen.

  Remember boys our holy saint is in no joking mood to day — He is just now kneeling at a chair beside me screeching like a half throttled turkey cock for the lord. He roars so about crucifixion in Jesus that I wish from my soul he were nailed hand and foot like a dead magpie, to a barn door.

  From your sinful travailer in the throes of labour, and about to bring forth a cubic yard of the blessed one — thus much.

  N.B. If you wish to pull our holy friends delicate “petite nez retroussé” you may dash in a few stiffish hints respecting the sinful lusts of the flesh, and the pride of life — but alas you do not know the scriptural phraseology so I suppose I must do that myself!

  The Rev H.M.M. Montmorency

  Some time a feeble labourer in the vineyards of Damnblastaree — Swiglushaboo, and the torrid African wilds of Splitmytimberara” but now a labourer among the people called methodists.

  To HIS servants

  gathered over eggs

  Ham Brandy and coffee

  in the Breakfast room

  Thurstons Arms.”

  “Grace and peace be with them”

  “Well” said O’ Connor with a sigh as if of gratitude for a mountain removed from his breast — “I see through it — The practical part of the evening will be just what I can weild, and if my lies don’t kick down yon chapel Joshua’s trumpets never floored the walls of Jericho!”

  “I see no fun in the matter” returned Mr Quamina sulkily “He’s a fool and he want to make fools of us — I dont like to have my tail cut off to please the docked fox — But as you say Arthur I can LIE as far as from here to Guinea as as fast as the rapids of the Congo and as loud as a Gold Coast thunder storm. For not getting drunk to night I’ll not promise, because I am so vexed at him.”

  Gordon only growled “I wish he would only think of women for he is never bearable when he deals with men” and Simpson muttered “I wish I may have the collection to count.”

  Some of my readers may know little of places of public worship except from such examples as they may find in the lofty roofed, nobly windowed piles which our national religion has dedicated to the service of God. But the decorous worship — the plain yet stately liturgy — the cathedral chaunts and those Anthems that speak to us from the graves of Purcell, Tallis, Gibbons, Bull, Kent or Green, find no parallel in the new raw cubes of brick or stone, pierced with two tiers of semicircular arched windows and possessed of interiors as fine as gaudily painted pews and galleries can make, which are denominated CHAPELS. These gems of classic architecture may possess Organs of much cost and enshrined in mahogany cases but, alas! their music is that of a waltz in ‘delirium tremens’ fancying that it is dancing souls to heaven; Their pulpits are adorned with unexceptionable velvet but the bibles lying upon them are thumped in time to a tattoo of extemporaneous raving: ‘I speak not in anger but in sorrow’ reader for though I could point out many an illustrious exception I have seen enough of what were once called ‘conventicals’ to feel aware that the slight sketch I have just drawn or the more finished picture which I mean to paint give no exaggerated idea of the follies into which man can plunge when he wishes to appear more holy than he is.

  On the evening of the first day of Ardmore fair, Sanctification Chapel presented to the crowd assembled about its doors a blaze of gas light from every square paned window — Inside abundance of light threw a yellow glory over the rapidly filling pews and galleries, while a double lustre blessed the green baize-bordered platform erected for the distinguished orators in the forthcoming missionary meeting. Men with slouched shoulders and downcast eyes assiduously trimmed the lamps or scraped discordant preludes on violins and violoncello’s[sic] — and perspiring but regenerated souls buried their faces in their hands under the influence of groaning prayer. The ladies too crowded fast into the scene of action with a very holy fervour though a sadly carnal attention to dress: Their upturned eyes and saddned sighs’ told of heaven but their satin bonnets and white handkercheifs smelt a little ‘of the earth, earthy’.

  For a while the bare boards of the platform caused a feeling of impatience in the rapidly filling edifice but ere long those boards were pressed by the boots of five as beautiful specimens of sinners saved as ever trod upon Memel timber. The Rev H.M.M. Montmorency — The Rev J Simpson — the Rev G Gordon — the Rev A, O’ Connor — the Rev Q Quamina — all attired in solemn sable took their seats amid the deepest groans am
ong the male and with the liveliest sympathies from the female portion of the audience — and though the chosen presented countenances as rascally as ever faced the mob round Tyburn tree their erect gentlemanly figures and well whiskered manliness told well especially with the fairer and holier portion of the audience.

  Mr Slugg followed these christian warriors and whispered a few words while he familiarily kept hold of the Rev Hectors Coat button but Montmorency audibly responded —

  “My beloved fellow soldier wishes to fight the good fight himself — so he will both give out the hymn and probably lead on the Organ. On his knees this morning he vowed that the work should not be done slackly.”

  Ere he had ceased speaking the lion of the evening was seen making his way among a reverently parting crowd in the aisle; and, looking neither to the right hand or the left he ascended to his place, faced his audience and shewed to many a tenderly swimming eye a very tall shapely figure in solemn black with an aristocratic forehead shining in the gas light and a face whose angelic aspect was only marred by the accursed chestnut cuds and orange whiskers.

  Waiting till an obligate movement of sighs and groans had ceased the Rev Alexander Percy began in a distinct but calm and silvery voice —

  “My brethren and Sisters in Christ — I feel so much oppressed with the weight of a duty which a higher power has laid upon me that I request from you a song of prayer and praise ere we open forth the business of this evening — My brother Slugg I shall give out an hymn and accompany it on the Organ myself so it will be quite unnecessary for my Christian friend to make any use of the instruments I see in the music seat.”