LITTLE FLOWER
I
The Rev. Thomas Bull was a man of rock-like character with no more
imagination than a rock. Of good birth, good abilities, good
principles and good repute, really he ought to have been named not
Thomas but John Bull, being as he was a typical representative of the
British middle class. By nature a really religious man and, owing to
the balance of his mind, not subject to most of the weaknesses which
often afflict others, very early in his career he determined that
things spiritual were of far greater importance than things temporal,
and that as Eternity is much longer than Time, it was wise to devote
himself to the spiritual and leave the temporal to look after itself.
There are quite a number of good people, earnest believers in the
doctrine of rewards and punishments, who take that practical view.
With such
"Repaid a thousand-fold shall be,"
is a favourite line of a favourite hymn.
It is true that his idea of the spiritual was limited. Perhaps it
would be more accurate to say that it was unlimited, since he accepted
without doubt or question everything that was to be found within the
four corners of what he had been taught. As a boy he had been noted
for his prowess in swallowing the largest pills.
"Don't think," he would say to his weaker brothers and sisters,
especially one of the latter whose throat seemed to be so constituted
that she was obliged to cut up these boluses with a pair of scissors,
"Don't think, but gulp 'em down!"
So it was with everything else in life; Thomas did not think, he
gulped it down. Thus in these matters of faith, if other young folk
ventured to talk of "allegory" or even to cast unhallowed doubts upon
such points as those of the exact method of the appearance on this
earth of their Mother Eve, or whether the sun actually did stand still
at the bidding of Joshua, or the ark, filled with countless pairs of
living creatures, floated to the top of Ararat, or Jonah, defying
digestive juices, in fact abode three days in the interior of a whale,
Thomas looked on them with a pitying smile and remarked that what had
been written by Moses and other accepted prophets was enough for him.
Indeed a story was told of him when he was a boy at school which well
exemplified this attitude. By way of lightening their labours a very
noted geologist who had the art of interesting youthful audiences and
making the rocks of the earth tell their own secular story, was
brought to lecture to his House. This eminent man lectured extremely
well. He showed how beyond a doubt the globe we inhabit, one speck of
matter, floating in the sea of space, had existed for millions upon
millions of years, and how by the evolutionary changes of countless
ages it had at length become fitted to be the habitation of men, who
probably themselves had lived and moved and had their being there for
at least a million of years, perhaps much longer.
At the conclusion of the entrancing story the boys were invited to ask
questions. Thomas Bull, a large, beetle-browed youth, rose at once and
inquired of their titled and aged visitor, a man of world-wide
reputation, why he thought it funny to tell them fairy tales. The old
gentleman, greatly interested, put on his spectacles, and while the
rest of the school gasped and the head master and other pedagogues
stared amazed, studied this strange lad, then said:
"I am outspoken myself, and I like those who speak out when they do so
from conviction; but, my young friend, why do you consider that I--
well, exaggerate?"
"Because the Bible says so," replied Thomas unabashed. "The Bible
tells us that the world was made in six days, not in millions of
years, and that the sun and the moon and the stars were put in the sky
to light it; also that man was created four thousand years B.C.
Therefore, either you are wrong, sir, or the Bible is, and /I/ prefer
the Bible."
The eminent scientist took off his spectacles and carefully put them
away, remarking:
"Most logical and conclusive. Pray, young gentleman, do not allow any
humble deductions of my own or others to interfere with your
convictions. Only I believe it was Archbishop Ussher, not the Bible,
who said that the world began about 4,000 B.C. I think that one day
you may become a great man--in your own way. Meanwhile I might suggest
that a certain sugaring of manners sweetens controversy."
After this no more questions were asked, and the meeting broke up in
confusion.
From all of which it will be gathered that since none of us is
perfect, even in Thomas there were weak points. For instance, he had
what is known as a "temper," also he was blessed with a good idea of
himself and his own abilities, and had a share of that intolerance by
which this is so often accompanied.
In due course Thomas Bull became a theological student. Rarely was
there such a student. He turned neither to left nor right, worked
eight hours a day when he did not work ten, and took the highest
possible degrees on every subject. Then he was ordained. About this
time he chanced to hear a series of sermons by a Colonial bishop that
directed his mind towards the mission-field. This was after he had
served as a deacon in an East End parish and become acquainted with
savagery in its western form.
He consulted with his friends and his superiors as to whether his true
call were not to the far parts of the earth. Unanimously they answered
that they thought so; so unanimously that a mild fellow-labourer whom
he bullied was stung to the uncharitable remark that almost it looked
as though they wanted to be rid of him. Perhaps they did; perhaps they
held that for energy so gigantic there was no fitting outlet in this
narrow land.
But as it chanced there was another to be consulted, for by this time
the Rev. Thomas Bull had become engaged to the only daughter of a
deceased London trader--in fact, he had been a shop-keeper upon a
large scale. This worthy citizen had re-married late in life,
choosing, or being chosen by a handsome and rather fashionable lady of
a somewhat higher class than his own, who was herself a widow. By her
he had no issue, his daughter, Dorcas, being the child of his first
marriage. Mr. Humphreys, for that was his name, made a somewhat
peculiar will, leaving all his fortune, which was considerable, to his
young widow, charged, however, with an annuity of 300 pounds settled
on his daughter Dorcas.
On the day before his death, however, he added a codicil which angered
Mrs. Humphreys very much when she saw it, to the effect that if she
re-married, three-fourths of the fortune were to pass to Dorcas at
once, and that she or her heirs were ultimately to receive it all upon
the decease of his wife.
The result of these testamentary dispositions was that one house,
although it chanced to be large, proved too small to hold Mrs.
Humphreys and her stepdaughter, Dorcas. The latter was a mild and
timid little creature with a turned-up nose, light-coloured fluffy
hair and an indeterminate mouth. Still there was a degree of annoyance
and fashionable scorn at which her spirit rose. The end of it was that
she went to live on her three hundred a year and to practise good
works in the East End, being laudably determined to make a career for
herself, which she was not in the least fitted to do.
Thus it was that Dorcas came into contact with the Rev. Thomas Bull.
From the first time she saw her future husband he dominated and
fascinated her. He was in the pulpit and really looked very handsome
there with his burly form, his large black eyes and his determined,
clean-shaven face. Moreover, he preached well in his own vigorous
fashion.
On this occasion he was engaged in denouncing the vices and pettiness
of modern woman--upper-class modern woman--of whom he knew nothing at
all, a topic that appealed to an East End congregation. He showed how
worthless was this luxurious stamp of females, what a deal they
thought of dress and of other more evil delights. He compared them to
the Florentines whom Savonarola (in his heart Thomas saw resemblances
between himself and that great if narrow man) scourged till they wept
in repentance and piled up their jewels and fripperies to be burned.
What do they do with their lives, he asked. Is there one in ten
thousand of them who would abandon her luxuries and go forth to spread
the light in the dark places of earth, or would even pinch herself to
support others who did? And so on for thirty minutes.
Dorcas, listening and, reflecting on her stepmother, thought how
marvellously true it all was. Had he known her personally, which so
far as she was aware was not the case, the preacher could not have
described her better. Also it was certain that Mrs. Humphreys and her
friends had not the slightest intention of spreading any kind of
light, unless it were that of their own eyes and jewels, or of going
anywhere to do so, except perhaps to Monte Carlo in the spring.
How noble too was the picture he painted of the life of self-sacrifice
and high endeavour that lay open to her sex. She would like to lead
that higher life, being in truth a good-hearted little thing full of
righteous impulses; only unfortunately she did not know how, for her
present mild and tentative efforts had been somewhat disappointing in
their fruits.
Then an inspiration seized her; she would consult Mr. Bull.
She did so, with results that might have been anticipated. Within
three months she and her mentor were engaged and within six married.
It was during those fervid weeks of engagement that the pair agreed,
not without a little hesitation upon the part of Dorcas, that in due
course he would become a missionary and set forth to convert the
heathen in what he called "Blackest Africa." First, however, there was
much to be done; he must go through a long course of training; he must
acquaint himself with various savage languages, such as Swahili and
Zulu, and so must she.
Oh! how poor Dorcas, who was not very clever and had no gift of
tongues came to loathe those barbaric dialects. Still she worked away
at them like a heroine, confining herself ultimately, with a wise and
practical prescience, to learning words and sentences that dealt with
domestic affairs, as as "Light the fire." "Put the kettle on to boil."
"Sister, have you chopped the wood?" "Cease making so much noise in
the kitchen-hut." "Wake me if you hear the lion eating our cow." And
so forth.
For more than a year after their marriage these preliminaries
continued while Thomas worked like a horse, though it is true that
Dorcas slackened her attention to Swahili and Zulu grammar in the
pressure of more immediate affairs. Especially was this so after the
baby was born, a girl, flaxen-haired like her mother, whom Thomas
christened by the name of Tabitha, and who in after years became the
"Little Flower" of this history. Then as the time of departure drew
near another thing happened. Her stepmother, Mrs. Humphreys, insisted
upon going to a ball in Lent, where she caught a chill that developed
into inflammation of the lungs and killed her.
The result of this visitation of Providence, as Thomas called it, was
that Dorcas suddenly found herself a rich woman with an income of
quite 2000 pounds a year, for her father had been wealthier than she
knew. Now temptation took hold of her. Why, she asked herself, should
Thomas depart to Africa to teach black people, when with his gifts and
her means he could stop at home comfortably and before very long
become a bishop, or at the least a dean?
Greatly daring, she propounded this matter to her husband, only to
find that she might better have tried to knock down a stone wall with
her head than induce him to change his plans. He listened to her
patiently--unless over-irritated, a perfectly exasperating patience
was one of his gifts--then said in a cold voice that he was astonished
at her.
"When you were poor," he went on, "you vowed yourself to this service,
and now because we are rich you wish to turn traitor and become a
seeker after the fleshpots of Egypt. Never let me hear you mention the
matter again."
"But there is the baby," she exclaimed. "Africa is hot and might not
agree with her."
"Heaven will look after the baby," he answered.
"That's just what I am afraid of," wailed Dorcas.
Then they had their first quarrel, in the course of which, be it
admitted, she said one or two spiteful things. For instance, she
suggested that the real reason he wished to go abroad was because he
was so unpopular with his brother clergymen at home, and especially
with his superiors, to whom he was fond of administering lectures and
reproofs.
It ended, of course, in her being crushed as flat as is a broken-
winged butterfly that comes in the path of a garden roller. He stood
up and towered over her.
"Dorcas," he said, "do what you will. Stay here if you wish, and enjoy
your money and your luxuries. I sail on the first of next month for
Africa. Because you are weak, do I cease to be strong?"
"I think not," she replied, sobbing, and gave in.
So they sailed, first class--this was a concession, for he had
intended to go third--but without a nurse; on that point he stood
firm.
"You must learn to look after your own children," he said, a remark at
which she made a little face that meant more than he knew.
