Every Sunday before he entered the pulpit he endured a Gethsemane; every time he quitted it he sought the faces of his people yearningly, pitiably, eager to be assured that his words had comforted them.
He spent all his time thinking of and for them, and he had won closer to their hearts than he guessed. They gave him confidences which had been withheld from their fellows for years, and thus let in to the closed chambers in their humble lives, he was able to justify himself to Vashti for the very lenient way in which he looked upon their lapses. He sometimes wondered that their common experiences of poverty and effort did not make them more considerate in their judgments upon each other. But they found in him always a merciful judge. He visited their homes, he knew their hopes and fears, he appreciated the pathos of their narrow ambitions, at which a less great-hearted man might have laughed.
He went into the little school-house frequently, and strove in simple words to awaken the children to the beauty about them, to the possibilities of life. He had great hopes of the children. Already he had singled out several whom he thought might make scholars. He promised himself that they should be given the opportunity.
He had been going to the school that morning when a little incident occurred which awakened all his most poignant doubts of himself, and the righteousness of his ministry.
Passing by the school-playground, he had seen some evil words chalked up in a school-boy hand upon the board fence. It was like a blow in the face to Sidney—so eager to instil the doctrines of sweetness and light into these children. Why, O why had that boyish hand traced the symbols to form that evil idea? It was as if a clear spring should suddenly cast up mud instead of water.
Sidney effaced the words, but turned away from the school. The whole morning was poisoned for him. Poor Sidney! Doubtless he was supra-sensitive, and yet—why had not the boy chosen some sweet and beautiful words to write upon that sunny spring morning? Surely they would have been more in keeping with the whole world as the boy’s eyes saw it?
We may smile at Sidney as he agonizes alone upon the hill, but it was by such vigils as these that he won so close to the heart of the God in whom he had no belief.
Sidney wandered about in the woods upon the hillside till gradually some little of the peace of the day entered into his spirit. He gathered a bunch of arbutus to take home to Vashti. He encountered no one upon the return journey but Mr. Simpson, who “passed the time of day” with the minister, as he said afterwards, and then proceeded to try to draw him out regarding Lanty. It was very easy for Sidney to parry old Mr. Simpson’s queries, but they made him very uneasy nevertheless.
Vashti whitened as Sidney related the circumstances to her.
Could there be anything new? she wondered. Sidney had one of his intense headaches, and, after the mid-day meal, Vashti proposed to give him ease from it by putting him into a sleep.