The Man with the Book; or, The Bible Among the People.

by John Matthias Weylland

"Thy word is true from the beginning." Ps. cxix. 160.

ALL who knew "Roley-poley," as the children delighted to call him, were convinced that something was wrong with him or his affairs. He was regarded as one of the respectables of the Court; and as he left home, with his huge narrow-edged basket, covered with a white cloth, upon which were displayed slices of rolled currant-pudding and plum-cake, he looked the pink of cleanliness. His rosy, contented face, white calico cook's cap, of which he was very proud, and his clean apron, were as charms to his supporters,—the roughs and gutter children. The partner of his life was also a partner in the provision business, as she sold sheep's-trotters outside the doors of the public-houses. Though both were turned sixty they were healthy, and their room had an appearance of comfort. It was plain that they prospered, as in the afternoon they left with well-filled baskets, and at night returned with them empty. Business difficulties were not therefore the cause, and yet the good-natured little man became ill-tempered, sharp with his customers, and "cranky" with every one; and then his meek little wife began to look wretched and speak of her "troubles." Liquor was not the cause, as "Roley-poley" was a sober man: so the conclusion arrived at was, that his "opinions," which of late had become very peculiar, were at the root of the evil. This was confirmed by his venturing an attack upon the Missionary, with whom he had been generally on good terms: and this is how the event occurred. The reader of the good Book was standing in a door-way with a group of boys, whose tossing for pence he had stopped by an offer to read them the story of a young man who was thrown into a den of lions. As "Roley-poley" passed with his basket there was a diversion of attention and a fingering of pence, with such a look at the tempting spread that the retailer approached to do business. The youths paused in their purchase to hear the end of the narrative, which may have irritated the poor man, as he looked spitefully toward the Book, and exclaimed, "That all contradicts itself, and it's made up of lies by the parsons, what doesn't produce nuffin, to keep us down and to get our money, and it says, it does, that God come from Teman, and nobody knows about that and Him; and it's bad, cos it says we are to be like a man what told people to steal a donkey. My opinion is, 'No religion and our rights.'" He then toddled away, as one who had let off the long condensed steam of "his opinions."

Next morning the Missionary entered his room to seek an explanation, and was told that "such as him wasn't wanted."

"Yes you be, master," exclaimed that meek little woman, with positive anger. "He's a-turning infidel, cos them shoemakers has lent him Tom Paine's book, which he was reading all two Sundays; and now he's miserable, and talks wicked, and goes to them infidel meetings, and doesn't stop out with the basket, cos he ain't content-like, and wants other people's things."

"She's a wixen," retorted the husband; "and a wixen what hasn't got reason, which is the worser sort of wixens: and she is always a-reading her mother's book, 'The Whole Duty of Man,' which is a parson's book, and agin our rights."

The domestic jangle was stopped by the visitor observing, "It is quite right in religion to use our reason; as the Bible tells us to 'prove all things, and to hold fast that which is good.'" And he then, in a soothing tone of voice, and with simple illustrations, proved to the poor man that God is, and that He is the Rewarder of them who diligently seek Him; and then assured him of his interest in the loving heart of the Saviour.

The old man listened, and it was evident by the manner he pursued his work of pudding-making that he was the subject of an inward conflict. After washing his apron, he poured the flour into the dirty old tub with such vengeance as to create a cloud of dust, and then he mixed with such energy that his arms were soon covered with whitey-brown flakes. By the time the dough was deposited upon the table he was calmer, and toward the end of the operation the rolling-pin was gently used. Rising from his seat the Missionary said kindly, "I am sorry for you, as you have been injured. The men have done you more harm by lending you that book than if they had broken your arm. You have struggled on together for a great many years, and ought now to be trying to make your last days your best days. That bad book will prevent this, and will rob you of the hope of meeting together in heaven. Do, my good friend, read your Bible, and ask God to take the wicked thoughts out of your mind."

The wife, who was preparing her trotters in another tub, burst out crying; and the tears started into the poor man's eyes as he said, "I'll give 'em up, sir, and I'll take to your Bible; and the name of the book I had is 'The Age of Reason,' and the 'bus-washer has it, and we was told not to let you see it."

A bad book, among a people so ignorant as the dwellers in Paradise Court, is worse than a beast of prey at large: so thought the visitor, as he hastened to the room of the family who had received the book, in hope of its capture. The man, an omnibus-washer, had just returned from his work, at which he had been employed since three in the morning. He was dirty and haggard, but this was his usual condition; but the dark frown upon his brow and the surly way in which he received the visitor were new to him. He was one of those to whom positive good had been done, and who had evinced his gratitude. He had a sickly wife and six children, and his hard earnings were only seventeen shillings weekly. As in bad weather he worked a greater part of the night, he had, no doubt from a feeling of exhaustion, contracted the habit of having a quartern of rum as soon as the public-house opened, which habit greatly reduced his wages and led to after-drinking. No wonder then that his family were at times in a starving condition. His boy of seven was deaf and dumb, and a great object of pity. One day a neighbour, to quiet his moaning as he sat upon the stairs, gave him a penny. The child hastened to the baker's and bought a loaf of bread with it. As he entered the room gnawing it, the other children, in savage hunger, sprang upon him and tore it out of his hands. This came to the knowledge of the Missionary, who called upon the man to reason with him about the spending of his wages. The Widow had already been there, and had convinced the wife that more could be made of the money if both were agreed. As the results of the conference the man was induced to sign the pledge; and to help him in forming habits of sobriety, arrangements were made for him to receive a breakfast of bread, butter, and coffee, at a house which opened at five o'clock in the morning, and that free of cost. By the time a fortnight was over the man had improved in health, and was firm in his resolve to keep the pledge and to continue his early breakfast. Good results followed, for the wife became cheerful, the children happy, and the room assumed an appearance of comfort. A cloud had however now gathered over the family, the man absented himself from home, and the wife's Sunday shawl and wedding ring had again disappeared. Their visitor was therefore concerned about them, and this accounts for his hurrying to their room. At first the man was sullen; but in reply to the remark, "I fear that you have neglected your promise to read a chapter daily?" he replied, "I'm the best scholar down here or in the yard either, and I've found out how we are kept down by the 'haristocrats;' and now I understands what are our rights, I'll have my share of the wealth which is the people's which produces it." And then, clenching his fist, he exclaimed, "And if fighting for it is to be done I'll do my share."