CHAPTER 12.

 

            NOEL perceived so great a difference in Margaret since his arrival, and especially since the revelation of their love to each other, that he could net but marvel at Maynard’s continued blindness. It was true that the critical nature of the times, and the importance of the interests at stake, were sufficient to fully occupy the thoughts of most men in his position; but they were not enough, Noel thought, to blind such a man as Maynard, on a subject which ranked with him above all others in heaven or earth. Noel ascribed it, therefore, to a settled conviction of the impossibility of Margaret ever being touched by the infirmity of a human affection.

 

            The terms which Maynard had established with his miners, were of a somewhat whimsical order; but his position was that of an autocrat, and his subjects were only too grateful for his treatment of them. The Catholic portion of them, of course, had their regular padre to superintend their spiritual interests. The British labourers, with the exception of a few who belonged to that most ubiquitous of the races of men, the Scotch, were all from Cornwall. These were under the guidance of one of their own number, who, in his own estimation, and that of those concerned, was gifted with a ‘call.’

 

            The one occasion in the year on which Maynard took any part in the religious services of his people, was on Christmas Day. On that day, he and Margaret, with their children, descended betimes to the hacienda, and joined in the devotions,

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pastimes, and festivities appointed for the occasion, without partiality or distinction.

 

            Noel, who, of course, accompanied them on this occasion, was vastly amused at finding himself attending, first, the simple ministrations of the ‘local preacher’ of the Cornishmen, and listening to the provincial dialect, vehement adjurations, and uncouth anthems of the leader and his congregation; and then, the specially ornate services in the Catholic chapel. To his remark that the latter seemed to take him back to a period of pure idolatrous pagan symbolism, Maynard replied that the strong doctrines of the ‘local preacher’ struck him as the most symbolical of the two, and as certainly not less idolatrous or pagan. Both parties believed their doctrines or ceremonies to be the truth, instead of merely representing a truth, and both erred in importing into religion, which was properly a matter of mental deportment, much that belonged to the profoundest metaphysics known to philosophy.

 

            ‘It is far less offensive to me,’ he said, ‘to see the simple, childish ritual of these semi-savage Mexicans, who don’t pretend to understand anything about it, than to listen to the presumptuous attempts of yonder preacher, to evolve the mystery of the Godhead out of the shallows of his own consciousness. I had some conversation with him once. I saw that he was one of those slightly educated men who, on the strength of a certain vividness of idea, are given to believe in their own inspiration, and take for infallible truth whatever is suggested to their minds by a text. He suits the calibre of his disciples, however, and so I said nothing to shake his belief in himself.’

 

            ‘Yet if you could enlighten him a bit, you might enlighten them through him.’

 

            ‘Enlighten an uneducated and self-constituted preacher! My dear fellow, you must have dwelt hitherto in the wildest regions of imagination, for such an idea even to occur to you.’

 

            ‘Do you know how he takes your going to both services?’

 

            ‘Yes; he spoke of it once, when I purposely encouraged him to do so, in order to give myself an opportunity of suggesting that there may be deeper depths in heaven and earth, than he has succeeded in fathoming. He said, with many apologies, that the respect which I showed to an idolatrous worship, was a stumbling-block to his hearers, which he was unable to remove, and he hoped I would not take offence at his naming it to me. I, of course, praised him for telling me; and desired

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him always to come to me whenever he had a difficulty which troubled him, as nothing was so pleasant to me, as helping those who are really anxious to learn. And then I inquired, for there is nothing like the Socratic method with uneducated people, what lie meant by idolatry, and what he meant by worship. He seemed somewhat surprised, but made answers which were just as capable of application to his own practice, as to the grossest superstition, for he applied the terms of which I had requested his interpretation, to the offering of respect to the Deity as represented by symbols. He asked if I did not consider images and paintings as grosser symbols than words and ideas. I said, by no means necessarily so; but that if they are, their use only implies that their users have not yet attained his more advanced degree of intelligence, but are like children, who gain their ideas by means of figures and pictures, before they can understand books and sermons; and that charity, if nothing else, should prevent his grudging children the use of such means as they are able to appreciate; and that there may be other beings who look down upon even his mode of faith and practice, just as he seemed to look down upon these. He did not seem quite to take this in, for he said he sometimes wondered how the Almighty could stand their goings on, which seemed to him so degrading; but I cut him short by saying, in the manner of one of the old Rabbinical stories, “Yet you see that not only He does stand it, but He has also given us in His works, images, more or less express, of Himself, and I think that if He has patience with them, we ought to have the same, at least so long as they do not interfere with us.” ’

 

            ‘And he was satisfied?’

 

            ‘Not quite, for he asked me to supply him with a text to justify him in tolerating idolaters. I told him that there are so many, that the only difficulty is in choosing, but that if he would select an author I would try to satisfy him. He, of course, named Paul first; and then, as if remembering himself, he named Jesus. So I gave him these: – “There are diversities of operations, but the same God worketh all in all.” “Why dost thou judge thy brother? or why dost thou set at nought thy brother? For we shall all stand before the judgment seat,” from Paul; and, “He that is not against us is on our part,” from Jesus. He does not seem to have digested them yet, for he has never come to consult me again. I believe he has kept aloof out of mere pride, for there is nothing in the

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world so overweening, as the conceit of an illiterate sectarian preacher, who thinks he knows the Bible because he has studied no other book, and least of all that of nature.’

 

            It was after the religious services of Christmas morning, that they sat talking thus in the verandah of Maynard’s office, while, without, preparations were being made for the games of the day, and, within, Margaret was arranging the prizes, of which she had the distribution.

 

            ‘How many days do you allow them?’ asked Noel.

 

            ‘The holiday occupies three days altogether, but we come down only on the second and principal one. Yesterday, the morning was passed in a church festival, which was something between our ancient mysteries and a game of hide-and-seek; for there was a series of processions of parties making a show of hunting in all directions for lodgings, either on pretence of finding a suitable birthplace for the sun after the winter solstice, or in commemoration of Joseph and Mary looking for quarters at Bethlehem; and everybody all the time devouring sweetmeats. This was followed up by a sort of carnevál, with a good deal of eating and drinking, and dancing. To-day we have our games; and to-morrow everybody does as he likes; and the day after, all hands are glad to get to work again. You have brought your rifle down with you, I see; so you must try for one of the prizes. As I have forbidden bull-fighting, which is what they care most for, I try to make it up to them in other ways.’

 

            ‘But yonder maypole is an anachronism, surely?’ said Noel, pointing to a lofty pole, whose summit was decorated with maize and evergreens.

 

            ‘It would be so, much farther north, but here the sun gains strength so quickly after the shortest day, that I consider the festival in honour of fruitfulness to be more appropriate to Christmas than to May. In these latitudes the waxing sun has no long periods of infancy to struggle through before attaining its ripening powers. The descent into the lower parts of the earth is applicable to the regions of long winter nights. You see I modify the calendar as I approach the equator.’

 

            ‘Pray how far have you revealed your heliastic proclivities to your people?’

 

            ‘I have had a good deal of talk with the padre on the subject, and he has impressed them with the belief that I, though technically a heretic, am yet a good Catholic, in that I worship

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the Creator of the universe, the Lord of heaven and earth, of life and death, and accept the Sun as His permanent and efficient representative, very much in the same sense as the Church does. I always give him the wax candles for his altar, telling him that the custom comes from the good old symbolical worship of the Pillar and the Flame. Between ourselves, I have opened his eyes wonderfully about the real meaning of things which he has been taught to look upon as incomprehensible, if not irrational dogmas, and he is rather surprised and glad to find there is so much meaning in them. My having been in Rome, gives me immense authority with him, and I believe his people give me credit for having a mysterious influence with the Pope. Here he is. – Good morning, father. Are the preparations nearly complete?’

 

            ‘Ah, señor mio muy querido, your goodness makes all happy who serve your excellency,’ and so on, with Spanish profusion of politeness, but with evidently more than Spanish genuineness, the good old priest answered Maynard. And they chatted together until the scene assumed a lively aspect. The whole population of the Real flocked from the surrounding cottages into the hacienda, the native men gay with their brightest coloured serápes, and vying with their women in brilliancy of adornment; and troops of children, little swarthy creatures, for the most part of pure Indian blood; a few Indians from the north, in their feathers and paint; and, curiously contrasting with these, the whole colony of Cornishmen, in their clean but sombre attire.

 

            ‘It is an odd thing,’ remarked Maynard to Noel and Margaret, as they stood watching the accumulation of the motley crowd, ‘that our countrymen always look best when their dress is at its ugliest.’

 

            ‘Power has no need of variety of colour to set it off to the best advantage. Its effect would be weakened by being broken up into many hues. In painting, I always have to express force and weight by solid masses of one colour, and that generally a dark one.’

 

            This was Margaret’s remark. James said –

 

            ‘And you are quite right. A mountebank who excels in agility generally appears in many colours. These heavy fellows from Cornwall have little agility, but no Mexican will tackle them in wrestling. They cannot stand their downright weight and strength. On the other hand, a Mexican knife would soon

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find out a Cornishman’s ribs, if it depended on his agility to avoid it.’

 

            After due obeisance by the assembled populace to the party in the verandah, the sports commenced. The feats of wrestling, racing, lasso-throwing, and mock fights by the men, and the dancing by the women and children, were wound up by a shooting-match, in which Noel took part, and, to the great delight of the young native women, who admired him immensely, gained the first prize. Feastings followed, and then the rewards were distributed by Margaret, not the least portion of the estimation in which they were held, being derived from the fact that they came from her hands. It was a remarkable tribute to the nature of the feeling which she inspired, that, while the men all adored her, the women were not jealous of her. She seemed, by the ethereal essence of her nature, to be so far removed from the range of ordinary humanity, as to arouse feelings nearest akin to those with which they regarded their patron saints.

 

            Maynard stood near as she awarded the prizes, and enjoyed no less the devout admiration manifested in the looks of the fortunate winners, than the calm grace and half-abstracted air with which she performed her part. He noted also the contrast between the elegant and self-assured manner of the natives, and the clumsy timidity of his Cornishmen, and confessed to himself that he preferred the qualities indicated by the latter. Presently his ear caught the words –

 

            ‘He aqui el bello señor! el bello hermano della Señora’ – running through the crowd, and Noel stepped forward, and bending one knee before Margaret, received as his reward some thing that she had specially worked for the occasion. And Maynard learnt, from the exclamations of the crowd, that Noel was generally regarded as Margaret’s brother; and from the ineffable expression of Margaret’s face, as she placed the prize in his hands, that she regarded Edmund as she had never regarded himself, for he had never before beheld that expression upon her face. And it was the very expression of which he had come to believe her incapable, and which he had more and more coveted for himself as the belief grew upon him.

 

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