The Back-room in which he slept was a Lean-to that stuck against the Main Wall
“Sir, you may observe I am a pretty corpulent Man, and I am to go through a Passage that is very strait. I beg you would be so kind as to give me a Shove, and help me through!”
Master Howe smiled, and frankly debated the Subject with him and Master Blower; and the End of it was, that when the Triers put it to Master Fuller whether he had ever had any Experience of a Work of Grace upon his Heart, he made Answer, that he could appeal to the Searcher of Hearts, that he made Conscience of his very Thoughts; and Master Blower said in other Words what amounted to the same Thing; howbeit, like Pharaoh’s Butler and Baker, one was accepted—the other not.
And the Reason was, that they got upon the Question of particular Faith, which was very prevalent in Oliver Cromwell’s Court, and put it to him whether he did not believe that all who asked for Anything in Faith would have it granted them, as well as have an Assurance on the Spot that it would be so. Which he said, in that large, unqualified Sense, he did not, for that he believed many timid Believers had the Faith of Adherence who had not the Faith of Assurance; and that if Prayer were made for some unreasonable Thing, however fervently, he did not think it would be granted. That would not stand Master Blower; so he had to come back to his Swallow’s Nest.
“But is it not an extraordinary Thing, now,” saith he to my Mother, “that they should, except for the Sake of catching a Man in his Talk, so hardly insist on the literal Acceptance of a Dogma which they themselves must know they overstrain? For would one of them dare to pray that his Father or Mother might come to Life again in this present World, however much he might long to see them in the Body? Or that all Jews, Infidels, and Heretics, might be converted this very Moment, however desirable a Thing it might be? We do the Word of God Dishonour and make it of none Effect when we interpret by the Letter instead of the Spirit.”
In this Fashion would the excellent Master Blower vouchsafe to converse with my Mother in my Hearing, much to her Edification and mine. Meantime Violet Armytage was much more given to Flirting than Preaching; and had more Admirers than any Girl on the Bridge; but the Man whom she and her Mother were chiefly desirous she should captivate was no Admirer of hers at all. This was Hugh Braidfoot, the Glover, who lived next Door to us; and who talked the Matter over with my Father very freely when they had the Shop to themselves; I sewing in the Parlour behind.
“I can see quite plainly through the old Lady,” quoth he, as he sate on his favourite Seat, the Counter, with his Feet easily reaching the Floor, “I can see what she’s driving at, and don’t respect her for it a bit. Why should she always be buying Gloves three or four Sizes too small for her broad red Hand, and then be sending Violet over to change them again and again till they fit? I’ve a dozen Pair wasted that she has stretched. And where is the other Daughter, and why is she always in the Background?”
“Kitty is sickly and a little lame,” says my Father, “and has her Health better in the Country.”
“I don’t believe she’s either sickly or lame,” says Hugh Braidfoot, “only the Mother wants to get this Daughter off first—and stands in her own Light by her Manœuvres, I can tell her. Defend me from a managing Mother!”