Papers of a Pariah

Excerpt from book: INTELLECTUAL SLAVERY January, 1904. Our new curate called upon me the other day and remained to tea; in fact, he remained till seven o'clock; and I cannot but suspect that he gave me so much of his time by reason of a rumour which has run through the parish, like sparks through stubble, to the effect that I was observed coming out of the Papistical Massing-house last Friday, about four o'clock in the afternoon. Mr. Joliffe's cart, with its blue- smocked, blood-stained driver, was certainly drawn up opposite Miss Simpson's house about that hour, and I suspect that her maid's attention was drawn to my emerging figure: probably when she took up the buttered toast her mistress was informed, ? and no more explanation is needed. My young spiritual pastor pronounced avery fervent discourse upon intellectual slavery, placing his fingers together and looking tactfully into the fire for fear that he should observe my confusion. He pressed my hand sympathetically, too, as he took his leave, looking sweetly into my eyes meanwhile, with the air of one who says, "I understand; I understand. But take courage and be resolute." I of course was silent in the presence of an ordained clergyman; for I have long since learned that nothing is to be gained by speech on such occasions. My poor little earthen pot of theology cannot swim for an instant in the same stream with a brazen vessel hammered with consummate craftsmanship for three long years in St. Catherine's College at Cambridge, put through the fire of St. Paul's Epistles in the original Greek once more in Birmingham Theological Seminary for eighteen months, polished and brought to perfection by four years' intellectual struggle with the villagers of Little Brasted, and the occasional reading of Dr. Pearson's standardwork upon the Cr...