‘At any rate,’ replied the Colonel, ‘he’s buried in Westminster Abbey.’
‘The more’s the pity.’
‘And he was the friend of the clergy.’
‘Yes, of the carnal and unregenerate. There are too many of such, alas, in the Church of England—wolves in sheep’s clothing.’
The lady was an Evangelical of the bitterest type.
‘Well, dear, we won’t discuss the question,’ said the Colonel meekly. ‘What am I to reply to this letter?’
‘What, the letter from London, from Mr. Wentworth? Short and sharp. Say the idea is perfectly ridiculous. We can hear of no compromise. It is quite out of the question for us to give up our rights just as Providence has opened to us a means of extended usefulness. Mr. Wentworth is only a newspaper writer, a man of no position in society, and I am told his wife was actually an actress.’
‘Yes, I believe so,’ said the Colonel. This was enough. The Colonel’s lady was one of the elect—a model in a certain section of society of holy living. Yet, under a sanctified exterior, she was as hard, and bitter, and selfish, and uncharitable as it was possible for any woman to be, and the beauty of it was, that she thought herself, and was considered by her friends, to be in a state of exalted spiritualism, living in close communion with God.
Such people are by no means uncommon, the creatures of a self-deception of a most odious kind. Their language is full of Scripture phraseology; they delight in pious hymns; all their reading is confined to pious biographies, especially religious diaries, the morbid revelations of which record at nauseous length their diseased state of mind, which they assume to be the direct results of a Divine inspiration and tokens of a Divine love. When they are in distress, it is not the natural result of the circumstances in which they are placed, or the conditions of ordinary life, but the Divine will and purpose. If they neglect the laws of health, and are ill in consequence, it is the Lord’s doing. If they lose their money owing to imprudence in trusting it in rotten companies, it is the Lord’s doing. If trade is bad and creature comforts fail, or they live beyond their means and are in embarrassed circumstances, it is the Lord’s doing, to wean them from the world and its sinful vanities, and to lead them back to Himself.
There are no mysteries to them; all is clear, and their knowledge of the Divine way is only equalled by their thorough acquaintance with those of His great adversary the devil. In them, peace of mind is the result of this knowledge. To the carnal mind their self-sufficiency and self-satisfaction is amusing. It is almost beautiful, the smile with which they listen to one another, and the calm contempt with which they regard everyone not of their way of thinking. By the side of them an iceberg is genial, and their power is as great as their faith. All the artillery of heaven is in their hands. Peace is theirs, but it is truly a peace that passeth all understanding; they are not as other men are. To the outer world their cry is, ‘Procul este, profani!’