SIXTH CHAPTER

by Charles Dickens

　　BROTHER HAWKYARD (as he insisted on my calling him) put me toschool, and told me to work my way. 'You are all right, George,'he said. 'I have been the best servant the Lord has had in hisservice for this five-and-thirty year (O, I have!); and he knowsthe value of such a servant as I have been to him (O, yes, hedoes!); and he'll prosper your schooling as a part of my reward.That's what HE'll do, George. He'll do it for me.' From the first I could not like this familiar knowledge of the waysof the sublime, inscrutable Almighty, on Brother Hawkyard's part.As I grew a little wiser, and still a little wiser, I liked it lessand less. His manner, too, of confirming himself in a parenthesis,- as if, knowing himself, he doubted his own word, - I founddistasteful. I cannot tell how much these dislikes cost me; for Ihad a dread that they were worldly. As time went on, I became a Foundation-boy on a good foundation,and I cost Brother Hawkyard nothing. When I had worked my way sofar, I worked yet harder, in the hope of ultimately getting apresentation to college and a fellowship. My health has never beenstrong (some vapour from the Preston cellar cleaves to me, Ithink); and what with much work and some weakness, I came again tobe regarded - that is, by my fellow-students - as unsocial. All through my time as a foundation-boy, I was within a few milesof Brother Hawkyard's congregation; and whenever I was what wecalled a leave-boy on a Sunday, I went over there at his desire.Before the knowledge became forced upon me that outside their placeof meeting these brothers and sisters were no better than the restof the human family, but on the whole were, to put the case mildly,as bad as most, in respect of giving short weight in their shops,and not speaking the truth, - I say, before this knowledge becameforced upon me, their prolix addresses, their inordinate conceit,their daring ignorance, their investment of the Supreme Ruler ofheaven and earth with their own miserable meannesses andlittlenesses, greatly shocked me. Still, as their term for theframe of mind that could not perceive them to be in an exaltedstate of grace was the 'worldly' state, I did for a time suffertortures under my inquiries of myself whether that young worldly-devilish spirit of mine could secretly be lingering at the bottomof my non-appreciation. Brother Hawkyard was the popular expounder in this assembly, andgenerally occupied the platform (there was a little platform with atable on it, in lieu of a pulpit) first, on a Sunday afternoon. Hewas by trade a drysalter. Brother Gimblet, an elderly man with acrabbed face, a large dog's-eared shirt-collar, and a spotted blueneckerchief reaching up behind to the crown of his head, was also adrysalter and an expounder. Brother Gimblet professed the greatestadmiration for Brother Hawkyard, but (I had thought more than once)bore him a jealous grudge. Let whosoever may peruse these lines kindly take the pains here toread twice my solemn pledge, that what I write of the language andcustoms of the congregation in question I write scrupulously,literally, exactly, from the life and the truth. On the first Sunday after I had won what I had so long tried for,and when it was certain that I was going up to college, BrotherHawkyard concluded a long exhortation thus: 'Well, my friends and fellow-sinners, now I told you when I began,that I didn't know a word of what I was going to say to you (andno, I did not!), but that it was all one to me, because I knew theLord would put into my mouth the words I wanted.' ('That's it!' from Brother Gimblet.) 'And he did put into my mouth the words I wanted.' ('So he did!' from Brother Gimblet.) 'And why?' ('Ah, let's have that!' from Brother Gimblet.) 'Because I have been his faithful servant for five-and-thirtyyears, and because he knows it. For five-and-thirty years! And heknows it, mind you! I got those words that I wanted on account ofmy wages. I got 'em from the Lord, my fellow-sinners. Down! Isaid, "Here's a heap of wages due; let us have something down, onaccount." And I got it down, and I paid it over to you; and youwon't wrap it up in a napkin, nor yet in a towel, nor yetpocketankercher, but you'll put it out at good interest. Verywell. Now, my brothers and sisters and fellow-sinners, I am goingto conclude with a question, and I'll make it so plain (with thehelp of the Lord, after five-and-thirty years, I should ratherhope!) as that the Devil shall not be able to confuse it in yourheads, - which he would be overjoyed to do.' ('Just his way. Crafty old blackguard!' from Brother Gimblet.) 'And the question is this, Are the angels learned?' ('Not they. Not a bit on it!' from Brother Gimblet, with thegreatest confidence.) 'Not they. And where's the proof? sent ready-made by the hand ofthe Lord. Why, there's one among us here now, that has got all thelearning that can be crammed into him. I got him all the learningthat could be crammed into him. His grandfather' (this I had neverheard before) 'was a brother of ours. He was Brother Parksop.That's what he was. Parksop; Brother Parksop. His worldly namewas Parksop, and he was a brother of this brotherhood. Then wasn'the Brother Parksop?' ('Must be. Couldn't help hisself!' from Brother Gimblet.) 'Well, he left that one now here present among us to the care of abrother-sinner of his (and that brother-sinner, mind you, was asinner of a bigger size in his time than any of you; praise theLord!), Brother Hawkyard. Me. I got him without fee or reward, -without a morsel of myrrh, or frankincense, nor yet amber, lettingalone the honeycomb, - all the learning that could be crammed intohim. Has it brought him into our temple, in the spirit? No. Havewe had any ignorant brothers and sisters that didn't know round Ofrom crooked S, come in among us meanwhile? Many. Then the angelsare NOT learned; then they don't so much as know their alphabet.And now, my friends and fellow-sinners, having brought it to that,perhaps some brother present - perhaps you, Brother Gimblet - willpray a bit for us?' Brother Gimblet undertook the sacred function, after having drawnhis sleeve across his mouth, and muttered, 'Well! I don't know asI see my way to hitting any of you quite in the right placeneither.' He said this with a dark smile, and then began tobellow. What we were specially to be preserved from, according tohis solicitations, was, despoilment of the orphan, suppression oftestamentary intentions on the part of a father or (say)grandfather, appropriation of the orphan's house-property, feigningto give in charity to the wronged one from whom we withheld hisdue; and that class of sins. He ended with the petition, 'Give uspeace!' which, speaking for myself, was very much needed aftertwenty minutes of his bellowing. Even though I had not seen him when he rose from his knees,steaming with perspiration, glance at Brother Hawkyard, and eventhough I had not heard Brother Hawkyard's tone of congratulatinghim on the vigour with which he had roared, I should have detecteda malicious application in this prayer. Unformed suspicions to asimilar effect had sometimes passed through my mind in my earlierschool-days, and had always caused me great distress; for they wereworldly in their nature, and wide, very wide, of the spirit thathad drawn me from Sylvia. They were sordid suspicions, without ashadow of proof. They were worthy to have originated in theunwholesome cellar. They were not only without proof, but againstproof; for was I not myself a living proof of what Brother Hawkyardhad done? and without him, how should I ever have seen the sky looksorrowfully down upon that wretched boy at Hoghton Towers? Although the dread of a relapse into a stage of savage selfishnesswas less strong upon me as I approached manhood, and could act inan increased degree for myself, yet I was always on my guardagainst any tendency to such relapse. After getting thesesuspicions under my feet, I had been troubled by not being able tolike Brother Hawkyard's manner, or his professed religion. So itcame about, that, as I walked back that Sunday evening, I thoughtit would be an act of reparation for any such injury my strugglingthoughts had unwillingly done him, if I wrote, and placed in hishands, before going to college, a full acknowledgment of hisgoodness to me, and an ample tribute of thanks. It might serve asan implied vindication of him against any dark scandal from a rivalbrother and expounder, or from any other quarter. Accordingly, I wrote the document with much care. I may add withmuch feeling too; for it affected me as I went on. Having no setstudies to pursue, in the brief interval between leaving theFoundation and going to Cambridge, I determined to walk out to hisplace of business, and give it into his own hands. It was a winter afternoon, when I tapped at the door of his littlecounting-house, which was at the farther end of his long, low shop.As I did so (having entered by the back yard, where casks and boxeswere taken in, and where there was the inscription, 'Private way tothe counting-house'), a shopman called to me from the counter thathe was engaged. 'Brother Gimblet' (said the shopman, who was one of thebrotherhood) 'is with him.' I thought this all the better for my purpose, and made bold to tapagain. They were talking in a low tone, and money was passing; forI heard it being counted out. 'Who is it?' asked Brother Hawkyard, sharply. 'George Silverman,' I answered, holding the door open. 'May I comein?' Both brothers seemed so astounded to see me that I felt shyer thanusual. But they looked quite cadaverous in the early gaslight, andperhaps that accidental circumstance exaggerated the expression oftheir faces. 'What is the matter?' asked Brother Hawkyard. 'Ay! what is the matter?' asked Brother Gimblet. 'Nothing at all,' I said, diffidently producing my document: 'I amonly the bearer of a letter from myself.' 'From yourself, George?' cried Brother Hawkyard. 'And to you,' said I. 'And to me, George?' He turned paler, and opened it hurriedly; but looking over it, andseeing generally what it was, became less hurried, recovered hiscolour, and said, 'Praise the Lord!' 'That's it!' cried Brother Gimblet. 'Well put! Amen.' Brother Hawkyard then said, in a livelier strain, 'You must know,George, that Brother Gimblet and I are going to make our twobusinesses one. We are going into partnership. We are settling itnow. Brother Gimblet is to take one clear half of the profits (O,yes! he shall have it; he shall have it to the last farthing).' 'D.V.!' said Brother Gimblet, with his right fist firmly clinchedon his right leg. 'There is no objection,' pursued Brother Hawkyard, 'to my readingthis aloud, George?' As it was what I expressly desired should be done, afteryesterday's prayer, I more than readily begged him to read italoud. He did so; and Brother Gimblet listened with a crabbedsmile. 'It was in a good hour that I came here,' he said, wrinkling up hiseyes. 'It was in a good hour, likewise, that I was moved yesterdayto depict for the terror of evil-doers a character the directopposite of Brother Hawkyard's. But it was the Lord that done it:I felt him at it while I was perspiring.' After that it was proposed by both of them that I should attend thecongregation once more before my final departure. What my shyreserve would undergo, from being expressly preached at and prayedat, I knew beforehand. But I reflected that it would be for thelast time, and that it might add to the weight of my letter. Itwas well known to the brothers and sisters that there was no placetaken for me in THEIR paradise; and if I showed this last token ofdeference to Brother Hawkyard, notoriously in despite of my ownsinful inclinations, it might go some little way in aid of mystatement that he had been good to me, and that I was grateful tohim. Merely stipulating, therefore, that no express endeavourshould be made for my conversion, - which would involve the rollingof several brothers and sisters on the floor, declaring that theyfelt all their sins in a heap on their left side, weighing so manypounds avoirdupois, as I knew from what I had seen of thoserepulsive mysteries, - I promised. Since the reading of my letter, Brother Gimblet had been atintervals wiping one eye with an end of his spotted blueneckerchief, and grinning to himself. It was, however, a habitthat brother had, to grin in an ugly manner even when expounding.I call to mind a delighted snarl with which he used to detail fromthe platform the torments reserved for the wicked (meaning allhuman creation except the brotherhood), as being remarkablyhideous. I left the two to settle their articles of partnership, and countmoney; and I never saw them again but on the following Sunday.Brother Hawkyard died within two or three years, leaving all hepossessed to Brother Gimblet, in virtue of a will dated (as I havebeen told) that very day. Now I was so far at rest with myself, when Sunday came, knowingthat I had conquered my own mistrust, and righted Brother Hawkyardin the jaundiced vision of a rival, that I went, even to thatcoarse chapel, in a less sensitive state than usual. How could Iforesee that the delicate, perhaps the diseased, corner of my mind,where I winced and shrunk when it was touched, or was evenapproached, would be handled as the theme of the whole proceedings? On this occasion it was assigned to Brother Hawkyard to pray, andto Brother Gimblet to preach. The prayer was to open theceremonies; the discourse was to come next. Brothers Hawkyard andGimblet were both on the platform; Brother Hawkyard on his knees atthe table, unmusically ready to pray; Brother Gimblet sittingagainst the wall, grinningly ready to preach. 'Let us offer up the sacrifice of prayer, my brothers and sistersand fellow-sinners.' Yes; but it was I who was the sacrifice. Itwas our poor, sinful, worldly-minded brother here present who waswrestled for. The now-opening career of this our unawakenedbrother might lead to his becoming a minister of what was called'the church.' That was what HE looked to. The church. Not thechapel, Lord. The church. No rectors, no vicars, no archdeacons,no bishops, no archbishops, in the chapel, but, O Lord! many suchin the church. Protect our sinful brother from his love of lucre.Cleanse from our unawakened brother's breast his sin of worldly-mindedness. The prayer said infinitely more in words, but nothingmore to any intelligible effect. Then Brother Gimblet came forward, and took (as I knew he would)the text, 'My kingdom is not of this world.' Ah! but whose was, myfellow-sinners? Whose? Why, our brother's here present was. Theonly kingdom he had an idea of was of this world. ('That's it!'from several of the congregation.) What did the woman do when shelost the piece of money? Went and looked for it. What should ourbrother do when he lost his way? ('Go and look for it,' from asister.) Go and look for it, true. But must he look for it in theright direction, or in the wrong? ('In the right,' from abrother.) There spake the prophets! He must look for it in theright direction, or he couldn't find it. But he had turned hisback upon the right direction, and he wouldn't find it. Now, myfellow-sinners, to show you the difference betwixt worldly-mindedness and unworldly-mindedness, betwixt kingdoms not of thisworld and kingdoms OF this world, here was a letter wrote by evenour worldly-minded brother unto Brother Hawkyard. Judge, fromhearing of it read, whether Brother Hawkyard was the faithfulsteward that the Lord had in his mind only t'other day, when, inthis very place, he drew you the picter of the unfaithful one; forit was him that done it, not me. Don't doubt that! Brother Gimblet then groaned and bellowed his way through mycomposition, and subsequently through an hour. The service closedwith a hymn, in which the brothers unanimously roared, and thesisters unanimously shrieked at me, That I by wiles of worldly gainwas mocked, and they on waters of sweet love were rocked; that Iwith mammon struggled in the dark, while they were floating in asecond ark. I went out from all this with an aching heart and a weary spirit:not because I was quite so weak as to consider these narrowcreatures interpreters of the Divine Majesty and Wisdom, butbecause I was weak enough to feel as though it were my hard fortuneto be misrepresented and misunderstood, when I most tried to subdueany risings of mere worldliness within me, and when I most hopedthat, by dint of trying earnestly, I had succeeded.