The Minister's Charge; Or, The Apprenticeship of Lemuel BarkerHowells, William Dean
General
The Minister's Charge; Or, The Apprenticeship of Lemuel Barker
Howells, William Dean
Boston (Mass.) -- Fiction; Clergy -- Fiction; Poets -- Fiction
“I suppose I was trying to adapt myself to circumstances,” answered
Sewell, frankly at least. “Let's hope that my facts are as wrong as my
conclusions. I'm not sure of either. I suppose, if I saw him idolising
so slight and light a person as she seems to be, I should be more
disheartened about his future than I am now. If he overvalued her, it
would only drag him lower down.”
“Oh, his future! Drag him down! Why don't you think of her, going up
there to that dismal wilderness, to spend her days in toil and poverty,
with a half-crazy mother-in-law, and a rheumatic brother-in-law, in
such a looking hovel?” Mrs. Sewell did not group these disadvantages
conventionally, but they were effective. “You have allowed your feelings
about that baffling creature to blind you to everything else, David. Why
should you care so much for his future, and nothing for hers? Is that so
very bright?”
“I don't think that either is dazzling,” sighed the minister. Yet
Barker's grew a little lighter as he familiarised himself with it, or
rather with Barker. He found that he had a plan for getting a teacher's
place in the Academy, if they reopened it at Willoughby Pastures, as
they talked of doing, under the impulse of such a course in one of the
neighbouring towns, and that he was going home, in fancy at least, with
purposes of enlightenment and elevation which would go far to console
him under such measure of disappointment as they must bring. Sewell
hinted to Barker that he must not be too confident of remodelling
Willoughby Pastures upon the pattern of Boston.
“Oh no; I don't expect that,” said Lemuel. “What I mean is that I shall
always try to remember myself what I've learnt here--from the kind of
men I've seen, and the things that I know people are all the time doing
for others. I told you once that they haven't got any idea of that in
the country. I don't expect to preach it into them; they wouldn't like
it if I did; and they'd make fun of it; but if I could try to _live_
it?”
“Yes,” said Sewell, touched by this young enthusiasm.
“I don't know as I can all the time,” said Lemuel. “But it seems to me
that that's what I've learnt here, if I've learnt anything. I think the
world's a good deal better than I used to.”
“Do you indeed, my dear boy?” asked Sewell, greatly interested. “It's a
pretty well-meaning world--I hope it is.”
“Yes, that's what I mean,” said Lemuel. “I presume it ain't
perfect--isn't, I should say,” and Sewell smiled. “Mr. Corey was always
correcting me on that. But if I were to do nothing but pass along the
good that's been done me since I came here, I should be kept busy the
rest of my life.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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