"Well, when I got into the pantry and began washing up, I had more time for quiet reflection. And this is what I thought. What a lot of lubberly, inanimated, ungrateful, stupid slaves we all must be. Here serving an earthly master, to the best of our abilities, for a few beggarly pounds, and for his meat and drink and fine clothing; and very well contented, moreover, when there's roast beef of a Sunday, or plum-pudding, and a glass of wine besides on a wedding-day or a birthday; and thank him, and feel pleased with him, and anxious next day to do better than ordinary, mayhap—And there's the Great Master—the Lord and Giver of all, who made us by his hand, and created us by his power, and feeds us by his bounty, and shelters us by his care; and all for no good of his, but ours—simply ours. For what's he to get of it, but the satisfaction of his merciful and generous spirit, when he sees his poor creatures happy?
"And we are such dolts! such asses! such brute beasts! such stocks! such stones! that here we go on from day to day, enjoying the life he gives us, eating the bread and meat he gives us, drinking his good refreshments, resting upon his warm beds, and so on.... Every day, and every day, and every day—and who among us, I, most especially for one, ever thinks, except may be by scuttling through a few rigmarole words—ever thinks, I say, of thanking Him for it—of lifting up a warm, honest heart, of true real thanking, I mean? Of loving Him the better, and trying to serve and please Him the better—when He, great and powerful as He is—Lord of all the lords, emperors, and kings, that ever wore crowns and coronets in this world—condescends to let us thank Him, to like us to thank Him, and to take pleasure in our humble love and service!"
Ha paused—every eye was fixed upon the speaker.
"And, therefore," continued Thomas, turning to the laundry-maid, who stood there with a tear in her eye; "therefore, Mistress Mary, I am pleased with, and I do like these new ways of going on, as you say; and I bless God, and hope to do it well in my prayers this night, for having at last made of us what I call a regular Christian family."
I have told you, a little in the way of anticipation, that the popularity of Mr. St. Leger's new measures was not confined to the kitchen; but that the general, by slow steps, gradually conformed to the new usages established at the Hazels.
Lettice and Catherine had not long to take it it turns to stay out with him, playing backgammon, at the time of evening prayers.
At first it was a polite—"Oh, pray don't think of staying in the drawing-room upon my account; I can do very well by myself."... Next it was, "Nay, rather than that, I will go into the library too; why should I not?" He began to feel, at first, probably, from a vague sense of propriety only, but before long from better reasons, that it was not very seemly for the master of the house alone to be absent, when the worship of God was going on in his family.
So there he might, as I told you, ere long be seen, regularly at night—in the morning more and more regularly—muttering the responses between his teeth at first; at length, saying them aloud, and with greater emphasis than any of the rest of the little congregation. His once majestic figure, now bent with age, towering above the rest; and his eagle eye of authority, still astonishingly piercing, rolling round from time to time, upon the watch to detect and rebuke, by a glance, the slightest sign of inattention upon the part of any of those assembled.
It was a beautiful picture that evening meeting for prayer, for the library was a very ancient room, it having retained the old fittings put in at the time the Hazels was built, some three half centuries ago. The massive and handsome book-cases of dark oak; the family pictures, grim with age, which hung above them; the urns and heads of old philosophers and poets adorning the cornice; the lofty chimney-piece, with the family arms carved and emblazoned over it; the massive oaken chairs, with their dark-green morocco cushions; the reading-desk; the large library table, covered with portfolios of rare prints; and large books containing fine illustrated editions of the standard authors of England; gave a somewhat serious, almost religious aspect to the apartment.