I Then
Turned And Retraced My Steps Into The Town.
It was Saturday night,
and the streets were crowded with people, many of whom must have
been Welsh, as I heard the Cambrian language spoken on every side.
CHAPTER IV
Sunday Morning - Tares and Wheat - Teetotalism - Hearsay - Irish
Family - What Profession? - Sabbath Evening - Priest or Minister -
Give us God.
ON the Sunday morning, as we sat at breakfast, we heard the noise
of singing in the street; running to the window, we saw a number of
people, bareheaded, from whose mouths the singing or psalmody
proceeded. These, on inquiry, we were informed, were Methodists,
going about to raise recruits for a grand camp-meeting, which was
to be held a little way out of the town. We finished our
breakfast, and at eleven attended divine service at the Cathedral.
The interior of this holy edifice was smooth and neat, strangely
contrasting with its exterior, which was rough and weather-beaten.
We had decent places found us by a civil verger, who probably took
us for what we were - decent country people. We heard much fine
chanting by the choir, and an admirable sermon, preached by a
venerable prebend, on "Tares and Wheat." The congregation was
numerous and attentive. After service we returned to our inn, and
at two o'clock dined. During dinner our conversation ran almost
entirely on the sermon, which we all agreed was one of the best
sermons we had ever heard, and most singularly adapted to country
people like ourselves, being on "Wheat and Tares." When dinner was
over my wife and daughter repaired to the neighbouring church, and
I went in quest of the camp-meeting, having a mighty desire to know
what kind of a thing Methodism at Chester was.
I found about two thousand people gathered together in a field near
the railroad station; a waggon stood under some green elms at one
end of the field, in which were ten or a dozen men with the look of
Methodist preachers; one of these was holding forth to the
multitude when I arrived, but he presently sat down, I having, as I
suppose, only come in time to hear the fag-end of his sermon.
Another succeeded him, who, after speaking for about half an hour,
was succeeded by another. All the discourses were vulgar and
fanatical, and in some instances unintelligible at least to my
ears. There was plenty of vociferation, but not one single burst
of eloquence. Some of the assembly appeared to take considerable
interest in what was said, and every now and then showed they did
by devout hums and groans; but the generality evidently took little
or none, staring about listlessly, or talking to one another.
Sometimes, when anything particularly low escaped from the mouth of
the speaker, I heard exclamations of "how low! well, I think I
could preach better than that," and the like. At length a man of
about fifty, pock-broken and somewhat bald, began to speak: unlike
the others who screamed, shouted, and seemed in earnest, he spoke
in a dry, waggish style, which had all the coarseness and nothing
of the cleverness of that of old Rowland Hill, whom I once heard.
After a great many jokes, some of them very poor, and others
exceedingly thread-bare, on the folly of those who sell themselves
to the Devil for a little temporary enjoyment, he introduced the
subject of drunkenness, or rather drinking fermented liquors, which
he seemed to consider the same thing; and many a sorry joke on the
folly of drinking them did he crack, which some half-dozen amidst
the concourse applauded. At length he said:-
"After all, brethren, such drinking is no joking matter, for it is
the root of all evil. Now, brethren, if you would all get to
heaven, and cheat the enemy of your souls, never go into a public-
house to drink, and never fetch any drink from a public-house. Let
nothing pass your lips, in the shape of drink, stronger than water
or tea. Brethren, if you would cheat the Devil, take the pledge
and become teetotalers. I am a teetotaller myself, thank God -
though once I was a regular lushington."
Here ensued a burst of laughter in which I joined, though not at
the wretched joke, but at the absurdity of the argument; for,
according to that argument, I thought my old friends the Spaniards
and Portuguese must be the most moral people in the world, being
almost all water-drinkers. As the speaker was proceeding with his
nonsense, I heard some one say behind me - "a pretty fellow that,
to speak against drinking and public-houses: he pretends to be
reformed, but he is still as fond of the lush as ever. It was only
the other day I saw him reeling out of a gin-shop."
Now that speech I did not like, for I saw at once that it could not
be true, so I turned quickly round and said - "Old chap, I can
scarcely credit that!"
The man, whom I addressed, a rough-and-ready-looking fellow of the
lower class, seemed half disposed to return me a savage answer; but
an Englishman of the lower class, though you call his word in
question, is never savage with you, provided you call him old chap,
and he considers you by your dress to be his superior in station.
Now I, who had called the word of this man in question, had called
him old chap, and was considerably better dressed than himself; so,
after a little hesitation, he became quite gentle, and something
more, for he said in a half-apologetic tone - "Well, sir, I did not
exactly see him myself, but a particular friend of mine heer'd a
man say, that he heer'd another man say, that he was told that a
man heer'd that that fellow - "
"Come, come!" said I, "a man must not be convicted on evidence like
that; no man has more contempt for the doctrine which that man
endeavours to inculcate than myself, for I consider it to have been
got up partly for fanatical, partly for political purposes; but I
will never believe that he was lately seen coming out of a gin-
shop; he is too wise, or rather too cunning, for that."
I stayed listening to these people till evening was at hand.
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