"Good evening, Mr. Dole," said both gentlemen, as they approached him. But there was no responsive "Good evening" from Mr. Dole. Now it is always a bad sign when a man will not return such a simple salutation as that: I never knew but one who made me no answer when I wished him "Good evening;" I was at once impressed with the idea that there was little good in him, and my impression was correct, for in a few moments after the fellow had put a light to the thatched house of a poor neighbour who had offended him, and very soon the poor man's house and goods were crackling in a mass of flame. But, it must be confessed, Mr. Dole withheld his salutation from no such motive as influenced this man. There was something far too pleasant and cheerful about a kindly "Good evening" to harmonize in any way with the tone of Mr. Dole's voice or manner; but beyond this, he never said "Good morning" or "Good evening" to any one on principle. The fact is, Mr. Dole belonged to a portion of the sect of Anabaptists called "Calvinist Baptists," and the extreme Calvinistic feature of his Creed had become with him quite a monomania. The idea of predestination haunted him every where and in every thing; it ran through his whole life of thought, word, and action; with it he justified all his own shortcomings, and it made him insensible to the right motives and doings of others. He had become so accustomed to look on the dark side of men and things, that he had gained for himself a settled character of gloominess and suspicion, and had quite lost sight of the Apostolic precept—"Be courteous." Thus he did not believe that these two gentlemen meant what they said, and really wished him to have a "Good evening;" and, as regarded himself, he would have considered the words as a flying in the face of Providence, a direful offence against the phantom idol of inevitable Predestination which he had set up in his own heart. To him it seemed only a mockery to use those words of common courtesy, when—as he said to himself—it was already ordained whether these persons should have a good or a bad evening, and no words of his could affect or alter their destiny. And so he simply said, "How do you do, gentlemen?" But it was spoken in a deep, sepulchral voice, as though he reserved to himself a mental protest against even this small conformity to the world's civility.
"People are talking about the painting you have been doing in the church, Mr. Ambrose, and I have just come up to look at it; not that I like that sort of thing, and I don't think the parish money should be spent in that way."
"You need not be at all anxious on that score, Mr. Dole, as my friend here has defrayed the whole cost of the work; but let us go into the church together."
Now the line of thought which this man had so long adopted, and the one idea he had cherished, had so dulled his heart and mind to all sense of the beautiful that he could never appreciate, like other people, what was pure and lovely, either in nature or in art. No wonder then that he failed to admire the beautiful decoration with which the Squire had adorned St. Catherine's Church.
First of all, Mr. Ambrose pointed out to him some old wall-paintings of great interest, which had been recently discovered. From these Mr. Acres had had the successive coats of whitewash carefully removed, and, though they were several centuries old, the colours were but little faded. Among the most curious were a series of paintings which quite covered the north wall of the chancel.
"You will see, Mr. Dole, that these all represent events in the life of our Blessed Lord. Here is the beginning of the series; it is the Tree of Jesse, showing the descent of our Lord in the line of David,—next is the Nativity,—next the Adoration of the Magi,—then, the Massacre of the Holy Innocents,—then, the Presentation in the temple; and there, on the upper part of the wall, are—the Betrayal, our Lord before Pilate, being Mocked, being Scourged, bearing His Cross, His Crucifixion, and there, below the Crucifixion, His descent from the Cross, and His Entombment[58]. These, you see, Mr. Dole, are not only valuable as showing one way in which our Church five hundred years ago set before the eyes and minds of the people the human life of our Lord; but they are still well suited for the sacred place they adorn, inasmuch as they still serve to remind the worshipper in this House of Prayer of the great truths they represent. I must, however, confess that we brought to light some paintings on the walls of a different character; some of these were very grotesque, others were from some cause or other objectionable. These were copied, as possessing antiquarian interest, and were then obliterated. It was long before we could bring our minds to destroy these curious relics of old days[59], and had they occupied less conspicuous places in the church, I think we should have been tempted to preserve them, but the House of God has a higher use than to be a mere preserver of curiosities, and to this higher use its decorations and all within it should contribute."
Mr. Ambrose then explained the new wall-decorations which had been painted by Mr. Acres. These consisted of groups illustrating sacred subjects, texts of Holy Scripture mixed with foliage and tracery; and, by clever introduction of foliage and holy texts among the old work, he had made the old and the new to harmonize very well. The colours were well arranged, and all was done with a due reference to the architectural features of the church. Before this time the only attempt at ornament for the walls of the church consisted of some square boards, put up about fifty years ago, on which were painted some ill-selected sentences, whilst beneath each sentence was painted a human head of inhuman ugliness.
Not one word had as yet been spoken to the Vicar by his seemingly attentive listener. At length he said, in his usual dismal tone, "I don't see any use in it, sir. To my mind, our little Rehoboth down in the village is more like the simplicity of the Gospel. Besides, I call all this a breaking of the second commandment."