The Devil's GardenMaxwell, W. B. (William Babington)
General
The Devil's Garden
Maxwell, W. B. (William Babington)
Fiction
Mavis was delighted; but when he told her that he was about to join
the Baptists she did not feel so well pleased. She scarcely knew what
to say. Why should he want to take the creed of dissenters, of quite
common people? It was all very well for farm-laborers, sempstresses,
and servants; but it did not seem good enough for her Will. Socially
it was without doubt a retrograde step; and nowadays, when he got on
capitally with the best of the gentlefolk, when they were all jolly
and nice to him, it did seem a pity to go and mix himself up with a
pack of ignorant underlings. The gentry, who of course all belonged to
the Church of England, would not like it any better than she herself.
Moreover, that notion of total immersion was extremely repugnant to
her. A grown-up person, an important person, a member of the District
Council, splashing about in a tank! She asked him many questions
concerning the baptism itself, and he told her all that he knew about
it. He did not tell her, however, of Mr. Osborn's proposal that the
immersion should occur in the wood-stream.
"What took your fancy, Will dear, with Mr. Osborn's teaching more than
anybody else's?"
Then he told her all that Mr. Osborn had said of the fatherly
attributes of God, of the fact that men were veritably His children,
and that for communion with God one must be as a child approaching a
father.
"Yes, dear, I'm sure that's true. But Mr. Norton would say just the
same."
"He never _has_ said it, Mav. That is, I never heard him say it."
"Perhaps in those days you didn't note his words. I'm not arguing,
dear. You must do whatever you judge right, and it will be right for
me--if once you've done it. Only I do assure you what you repeated is
altogether Church of England; and I feel certain Mr. Norton must have
said it times and often."
"Then perhaps he hasn't said it quite in the same way."
When the evening arrived Mavis asked if she might come to the chapel,
but he said "No." Her presence would distract his thoughts.
"Very well, dear, I'll stay here. I shall say a prayer for you. I may
do that?"
"Yes, please do that."
Throughout the ceremony, and afterward, he was very grave and
dignified, plainly taking the whole matter with the most profound
seriousness. He was silent and solemn throughout the rest of the
evening; but he slept extraordinarily well at night. There were no
dreams, no disturbances of any kind. He lay motionless, sleeping as
peacefully as a little child.
Tender thoughts filled the mind of his wife as she watched him. She
thought of the ugly chapel, those stupid illiterate people, the dark
water, the splashing and the noise; the clumsy absurdness of the whole
rite; and yet, in spite of everything, she now felt the essential
beauty of the idea itself. It seemed to her most beautiful when
applied to this particular case--the strong brave man who in spirit
and heart has made himself simple and guileless as a child, to be
taken back to the Eternal Father of all children.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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