Little did Tom think, as he went home that day in full-blown
satisfaction with his sermon to Frank, of the misery he had caused,
and was going to cause for many a day, to poor Grace Harvey. It was a
rude shock to her to find herself thus suspected; though perhaps it
was one which she needed. She had never, since one first trouble ten
years ago, known any real grief; and had therefore had all the more
time to make a luxury of unreal ones. She was treated by the simple
folk around her as all but inspired; and being possessed of real
powers as miraculous in her own eyes as those which were imputed to
her were in theirs (for what are real spiritual experiences but daily
miracles?) she was just in that temper of mind in which she required,
as ballast, all her real goodness, lest the moral balance should
topple headlong after the intellectual, and the downward course of
vanity, excitement, deception, blasphemous assumptions be entered on.
Happy for her that she was in Protestant and common-sense England, and
in a country parish, where mesmerism and spirit-rapping were unknown.
Had she been an American, she might have become one of the most
lucrative "mediums;" had she been born in a Romish country, she would
have probably become an even more famous personage. There is no reason
why she should not have equalled or surpassed, the ecstasies of St.
Theresa, or of St. Hildegardis, or any other sweet dreamer of sweet
dreams; have founded a new order of charity, have enriched the clergy
of a whole province, and have died in seven years, maddened by
alternate paroxysms of self-conceit and revulsions of self-abasement.
Her own preachers and class-leaders, indeed (so do extremes meet),
would not have been sorry to make use of her in somewhat the same
manner, however feebly and coarsely: but her innate self-respect and
modesty had preserved her from the snares of such clumsy poachers; and
more than one good-looking young preacher had fled desperately from a
station where, instead of making a tool of Grace Harvey, he could only
madden his own foolish heart with love for her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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