The Protevangelium of James J. Keith.

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The Protevangelium of James J. Keith. Elliott Digital
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Author(s): J. KEITH. ELLIOTT, Gyorgy Gereby
ISBN(s): 9782503593142
Edition: Critical
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Year: 2021
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 Brepols Library of Christian Sources
Patristic and Medieval Texts with English Translations

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 Brepols Library of Christian Sources
Patristic and Medieval Texts with English Translations

EDITORIAL BOARD

Professor Thomas O’Loughlin, Director

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Professor Lewis Ayres
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Dr Sara Parks
The Protevangelium of James

Introduced, edited & translated by

J. K. Elliott

With a commentary by
Patricia M. Rumsey

F
 Cover image: Ebstorfer Mappa mundi © Kloster Ebstorf.
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D/2022/0095/172
ISBN 978-2-503-59314-2
eISBN 978-2-503-59315-9
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e-ISSN 2736-691X
DOI 10.1484/M.BLCS-EB.5.122227

Printed in the EU on acid-free paper.

To Carolyn

For Sarah
Table of Contents

Abbreviations9
Introduction ( J.K. Elliott) 11
Date17
Genre17
Sources18
The Influence of the Protevangelium18
Author19
Versions19
The Place of the Protevangelium in Christian Memory (P.M. Rumsey) 27

Text and Translation ( J.K. Elliott) 67

Text68
Translation69

Commentary (P.M. Rumsey) 91

Bibliography113

Index of Scriptural Citations 119

Ancient and Medieval Authors 121
Modern Authors 122
General Index 124
Abbreviations

Biblical materials

Gen Genesis
Num Numbers
Lev Leviticus
Jds Judges
1 Sam 1 Samuel
2 Sam 2 Samuel
1 Kgs 1 Kings
Tob Tobit
Ps Psalms
Mt Matthew
Mk Mark
Lk Luke
Jn John
Gal Galatians
1 Cor 1 Corinthians
1 Tim 1 Timothy
Jas James

Abbreviations for Journals

BAR Biblical Archaeology Review

BBR Bulletin for Biblical Research
EEC Encyclopedia of Early Christianity
FS Feminist Studies
GRBS Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies
IJHCS International Journal of History and Cultural Studies
JECS Journal of Early Christian Studies
JCRCJ Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism
JRS Journal of Roman Studies
PRSM Proceedings of the Royal Society of Medicine
SA Studia Antiqua
TS Theological Studies
Introduction

To borrow Aurelio de Santos Otero’s title to this apocryphon, it is the Protoevangelio

de Santiago. The title obviously tells principally of those events that occurred prior
to the ones retailed in the canonical four-fold Gospel canon. Hence, it is properly
an apocryphal writing that is pre-canonical in its main story. Such a title correctly
implies that this apocryphon goes behind and therefore beyond any of these other
accounts and it has expanded them.
The Protevangelium of James is an anglicized version of the name given in the long
Latin title of the first published edition in 1552 by its editor, the French humanist
Guillaume Postel SJ and printed in Basle. The Latin version was based on a now-lost
Greek manuscript of this work — published later by M. Neander also in Basle in
1564 (and 1567) but found by Postel in the Middle East in the sixteenth century. It
is not an ideal title but, faute de mieux, it is the one we and most contemporaries
now use. This is, in part, based on the title of the work cited at the end of the work
(PEJ 25), especially in the famed early witness currently in Cologny near Geneva at
the Bodmer library. This late third or early fourth century work known as Bodmer V
ends with the attributions ‘The Birth of Mary’ and also ‘The Revelation of James’. The
first of these titles may indeed be true — as far as it goes — but the second alleged
title is improbable because the work is not apocalyptic. Even the authorship itself
is doubtful, as we shall see later in these isagogics. The original writing seems to be
older than the Bodmer papyrus itself.
As a ‘proper’ apocryphal writing, that is one of many that (typically) expand the
stories in other texts (here, mainly the infancy stories behind Matthew and Luke,
which (in this case) should be called, certainly by the fourth century at the latest,
‘those books about to be made canonical and scriptural’). Our author certainly knows
the birth stories in what became known as the four canonical Gospels very well, in
addition to other New Testament books (i.e. those books that also were soon to be
included amid other canonical writings), albeit to a lesser extent.
In addition to its concentrating on Mary, her background and life, thus making it an
encomium of her. Similarly, it (re-)tells very fully tales about Jesus’ birth and his formative
early years in Egypt during his family’s escape there, in order to avoid Herod’s killing of
all living infants, PEJ is somewhat different from those tales in the New Testament itself
in these regards. For instance, it often differs from Mathew’s or Luke’s early chapters.
Most apocryphal stories tend to have originated as the fillings-in of alleged gaps
in the traditional story-line. However, believers wanted to know precisely how and
where Jesus Christ of Nazareth was born, who his parents were and their pre-history.
Similarly they, in particular, asked why Mary of all women was selected as the
theotokos, what her upbringing was and who her parents were. All those queries do
12 in tro ducti o n

have answers here — although the birth of Mary does take up a disproportionate
part of PEJ 1–17 and beyond, as the early title found in the Bodmer papyrus shows.
Mary’s parents, Anna and Joachim, figure prominently at the start of this tale.
The names, Anna and Joachim, are both taken from the Old Testament, although
Hannah (= Anna or Anne here) has Elkanah as her husband in 1 Sam. 1:2. It is,
however, worth our while also checking on the name, Anna/Hannah, at Tob. 1:20.
Joachim’s wealth parallels the immensely rich Joachim/Joakim of the Old Testament
apocryphal writing, usually known today as ‘Daniel and Susanna’. The defamatory
stories retold (falsely to a Christian) by Celsus are clearly in our author’s mind.
PEJ was written when these objections about Christianity were circulating widely.
Celsus’ work is to be found cited in Origen, Comm. in Matt. 10.17 and Clement of
Alexandria, Strom. 7.19.93, in which Celsus states that Jesus’ and his parents’ families
were impoverished and that his birth was illegitimate. Christianity is portrayed by
Celsus as a poor man’s religion.
Mary was clearly not of royal descent according to Celsus; that is perhaps why
in PEJ the slave-girl to Hannah, named Euthine or in differing manuscripts, Juthine
(or even Judith), tells her mistress (often in difficult and obscure Greek) that she (i.e.
Euthine herself) cannot wear the headband proffered because, unlike Anna, Euthine
is a commoner and is not royal.
This apocryphon, the Protevangelium, copes with these problems, such as when
Mary, then about to be a newly-wed woman, works as a youngster appropriately
weaving a veil for use in the Jerusalem Temple. This she readily does; the work itself
is not for profit and her father, Joachim, is described in the opening words of PEJ as a
very wealthy and respected figure. (Our author is, however, confused on the question
who and who does not, contribute to the veil-making. He even has Elizabeth be like
Mary and the Hebrew virgins who contributed to its manufacture. Nowhere is this
oddity about Elizabeth explained.)
To take us through the story of Mary’s parents, her upbringing and ‘relationship’
with Joseph up to the time of Jesus’ birth, let us turn to the sequencing in PEJ. First
of all, Joachim’s abnormally generous double-offering is rejected by Reubel (or, in
some manuscripts, named as Reuben), who is a non-priest; he serves as a spokesman
for all Jews. Possibly, we must think that his rejection of the offering was quite rare,
albeit said here to have been divinely inspired. The refusal by the Jews is said to have
been most regrettable. Later, as if in order to confirm Anna’s, his wife’s, pregnancy,
Joachim, according to this yarn, can only then offer his sacrifices without any
objections being raised (PEJ 5).
Like Sarah and Abraham, these two parents are now enabled by God to bring forth
an infant in their (unspecified) old-age. In their case it is the girl, Mary; in Sarah’s and
Abraham’s it is a boy, Isaac. Joachim’s absence from his wife and his home for forty
days and for forty nights after he hears of this news is clearly intended to conjure up
for us the Old Testament’s time for a recognizable period of travail (as is to be seen in,
e.g. Exod. 24:18; 34; 1 Kings 19:8). Some recent scholars have also made (rather too)
much of the proximity of the wilderness or desert to Jerusalem or to anywhere else,
for that matter. The reference is surely one that is purely conventional. It need not
refer to the provenance of this work as a totality or to the origin of this specific yarn.
 i nt ro d u ct i o n 13

Anna’s dirge in the garden, during her husband’s significant forty-day absence,
in what one is intended to assume is in their huge estate occurs in PEJ 3. The lament
there obviously parallels Anna’s ‘Magnificat’ in PEJ 6 — one suspects that a longer
version of the latter has been greatly shortened. The scene with the dirge is followed
by the rebuke by Anna’s maid and it shows how badly Anna’s childlessness was seen
by the lower classes too. This tale about Anna occurs despite the luxury of her home.
It is the maid who also tells her how to dress ‘properly’ on that occasion. Anna has to
be informed that this is because the Great Day of the Lord is obviously an important,
albeit otherwise unknown or unidentifiable, feast-day, and it is already occurring.
(Mention here of the Great Day clearly is intended to provide a reference to Joel 2:11.)
The variants in PEJ 4bis, concerning the tense of the verbs i.e. εἴληφεν and λήψεται,
show us here how vitally important textual criticism is for these apocryphal texts.
Which is the original reading — the perfect tense, implying a present reality, or
the future tense, because the event is yet to happen? And why are the variants here,
anyway? My hunch is that, if the original were the perfect tense, then this is clearly
intended by the original author to be a prophetic affirmation concerning future events.
There are also several textual variants that concern numbers/numerals. It seems
not to matter whether or not the original writer used Greek numerals or wrote the
word for those numbers out in full — or, indeed, used a mixture of the two.1
Anna then becomes mysteriously pregnant with resultant jubilation from the
two people most involved, Anna and Joachim. The pregnancy then runs to its full
term of nine months. Later, a party for the whole of the Jewish establishment and
all Israelites en bloc occurs in PEJ to mark Mary’s first birthday. This event shows just
how prominent a figure Joachim was (and, by extension, his family were), but the
detail also tells us of his wealth — he was able to indulge in and, just like Abraham
in the first book of the Bible, house a huge number of guests at the same time.
Throughout her whole life, Mary’s purity is emphasised by the author of this
apocryphon. Her mother sees to it that her early years at home are free from
corruption. In PEJ 5–6 her birth, then her bedroom and her companions (called
the undefiled daughters of the Hebrews. maintain that purity.2 These girls are also

1 Z. Cole in a published thesis dealing only with early New Testament manuscripts opened up various
questions such as the possibility that scribes were aware that their writing material (papyrus or
parchment (vellum)) was coming to its end and thus they may have curtailed the writing by omitting
text and making all numerals Greek letters. The oddly-named ‘Western Non-Interpolations,’ referring to
certain readings in Luke-Acts in the New Testament, may have been omitted precisely because a scribe
initially may have deliberately avulsed what was then considered to be excessive verbiage. Cole finds
such a procedure most unlikely. Similarly, he also dismisses as unreasonable the suggestions that special
numbers like twelve, forty or fifty were always and only written in a particular and distinctive way.
Again, Cole dismisses that as another red-herring. Scribes and original writers were arbitrary how and
when (and where) they transcribed such terms. What we see is that either is fine — as fully written-out
words or Greek letters standing for these numbers. Scribes made changes to their exemplars willy-nilly.
2 According to this story there are apparently only seven such females in the whole of Israel. This sect
is otherwise unknown. At PEJ 6 they ‘keep her amused’ if that is what is meant by the odd verb (in
this context), namely, διεπλάνων. (Probably διεκόνων is intended; I use that word and in my English
translation, below.).
14 in tro ducti o n

protective of her even after the alleged ‘marriage’ to Joseph, especially when he (as a
wealthy entrepreneur) needs a very long absence from the family home. That house
is said to have been in the capital, Jerusalem.
Even when Mary was a young child, during her sojourn in the Jerusalem Temple,
where she had willingly gone at the mere age of three the Temple and its regime are
described as a type of Christian monastery. On her arrival as a very young child, Mary
is gladly received by the High-Priest and the other Jewish dignitaries; it is there where
she is said to have been fed by the hand of God (through the/a divinely-appointed
angel) ‘like a dove’ (cf. The Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew 8). Mary’s modesty and her
own purity are well understood and are the essential attributes on arrival at and her
years in the Temple. PEJ is, in general, very favourably disposed to the Jews. That
not only includes the parents of Mary and of Jesus but also leaders, ‘high priests’ in
the Temple and others. The main bad character is Herod, the child-killer. He is only
a half-Jew and is certainly outside the Jewish establishment.
The Temple’s priests are described (rather idealistically and improbably) as
pious agents of not only Judaism but of Christianity too. Nine years later, when she
is twelve and seen as capable (through her menstruation) to ‘pollute’ the Temple,
Mary’s alleged yet forthcoming marriage is to be thought of as merely a wardship.
To prepare for the ‘wedding,’ the priests duly arrange for Mary to come under
this wardship or guardianship and they summon all the widowers of Judaea to come
to a meeting to find out who will be that chosen one to serve as her guardian. It is to
be noted that only widowers receive this summons to attend the Temple when each
of them comes along, obediently and armed with a rod. They all then act in unison
and our author seems to expect that, as all of them are elderly, they must therefore
all be beyond the age of carnal desires.
The Annunciation to Mary (cf. Lk 1:26–38). The dis-similarities between this account
in PEJ and in Luke’s Gospel tell us that PEJ is no mere copy of the other. Much of the
work in PEJ, as in all apocryphal writings, is a re-thought and a re-written text. The
variant, makes Gabriel, who conveys the divine message to Mary, no mere ‘angel’. That
is the translation of the simple noun, ἄγγελος. Some manuscripts, however, have the
variant ‘archangel’ (ἀρχάγγελος). That larger form of the word may be due to a pedantic
scribe who altered an original ‘angel’ to make Gabriel the ‘archangel’ he is remembered
to have been and where he is alongside Raphael and the chief archangel, Michael, in
order to increase the number of some of these other beings. Conversely, one could argue
that later scribes only knew or chose to call Gabriel an ‘angel’ rather than his originally
being named as an ‘archangel’. The jury is still out on this particular problem. PEJ 11–12
reads ‘angel of the Lord’ twice and also once (of Gabriel), in some manuscripts.
Joseph is then chosen. Later, as announced at the Annunciation, Jesus’ conception
is to be divinely encouraged, following the canonical story-line about her being
‘overshadowed’ by the Holy Spirit (= God). Mary is said that she ‘knows not a man,’
thus informing us that the wardship by Joseph is a non-sexual relationship. PEJ also
emphasises Joseph’s great age (e.g. in PEJ 9) and, as an elderly widower, Joseph, like
the other widowers, is also thereby assumed not to be interested in Mary qua woman.
After Mary is sixteen years of age, her would-be husband, could not have impregnated
her. With Celsus’ accusations about the Holy Family’s status also in mind, PEJ 14 has
 i nt ro d u ct i o n 15

Joseph ‘protecting’ her. Earlier, he feels obligated to care for the virgin of the Lord, as
Mary is called here.3 Joseph leaves her in God’s hands in chapter 9. And so all should
have been well. But we also need to see his later recriminations (in PEJ 14); and for
his plans for the future when he will try to properly care for her himself.
Certainly, when Joseph returns home after four years that he apparently needs to
attend to his building works, he observes that she is pregnant and he thinks about the
narrative of Adam and Eve, found in the first book in the Bible (cf. also 2 Cor. 11:3).
According to thoughts such as those attributed here to Joseph, why should anyone
consider that Mary will be worthy of a judicial death if he should indeed tell ‘the
people of Israel’ that it was not he who had impregnated his own wife? (That was
never seen as problematic in Matthew’s Gospel 1:18–25.)
However, the real heroine of this apocryphon is Mary herself and certainly is
so until Joseph seems to take over the leading role, especially as it is he who speaks
in PEJ 18 (in a first person passage, rather than the ‘normal’ third. person, used up
to that point) — when he says that all of nature has ceased its functions because
of Jesus’ birth (cf. also Rev. 8:1). His monologue, like the magi’s star, are the main
cosmological signs to indicate the beginnings of Jesus’ life; these events parallel
the eclipse, risings from the tombs and the earthquake seen and felt at his death
in the canonical Gospels. The cessation of natural events here occurs precisely at
the moment of his birth and thus throws a veil over the event itself. The midwife
(see further, below), whom Joseph has only just found, is thereby made to be
redundant in that role. Another woman, named in PEJ as Salome (PEJ 19 f.) is
also (one assumes) a Jewish midwife or wet-nurse brought into the story to cast
doubt on Mary’s virginity. She then physically tests Mary and is thus like doubting
Thomas in the Fourth Gospel (known as the Gospel attributed to John) in the New
Testament proper, after Jesus has been killed. In Salome’s case, the withering of her
hand destroyed by a heavenly fire, is obviously due to her doubting Mary’s virginal
state but, of even greater importance in this story, Jesus, as a mere neonate, is able
to restore her hand to full health and usefulness immediately. (That is a theme
developed in other later languages, e.g. The Armenian Gospel of the Infancy edited by
Abraham Terian (Oxford University Press, 2008) that has many a tale of the infant
Jesus as a healer par excellence.)
The odd tale of the two ‘midwives’ after Jesus’ birth confirms Mary’s on-going
virginity in partu and indeed post-partum. Those confections have been specifically
created to counter Celsus’ and others’ suspicions and accusations that the founder
of Christianity was illegitimate and therefore a bastard. (Tales of Mary’s sexual
involvement with a Roman soldier had also emerged and were a popular version of
that particular accusation against her.)
PEJ has the earliest reference to Jesus’ birth in a cave. It happens en route from
Jerusalem to Bethlehem for Caesar Augustus’ enigmatic and unlikely census.

3 Note also that Mary is seldom referred to in narrative or addressed by her own name. Typically we
see that she often appears as the or a virgin, or as the girl. Many manuscripts regularly adjust those
references, often replacing them by the use of the pronouns ‘she’ and ‘her’.
16 in tro ducti o n

(Throughout PEJ, as here, Mary is herself described as belonging to the tribe

of David.) Normally, as we know from numerous illustrations, the birth itself
takes place indoors, albeit in a cowshed for the neonate. Here in PEJ the manger
as used by the animals is ‘merely’ the convenient hiding-place for Jesus. It can,
however, show Mary is not only pure and free from all (sexual) sins, but she is
also inventive and very brave. In the canonical stories the Holy Family makes its
escape to Egypt to avoid the child-killer, Herod. (In the New Testament those
events obviously lack such a subterfuge.) The Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew (of the
sixth century), which uses PEJ in its opening chapters, has two animals present
by that manger, an ox and an ass, thus fulfilling the Old Testament prophecies,
especially those found in the book of the prophet Isaiah, as well as its introduction
of a new element of verisimilitude into the tale. As far as this yarn is concerned,
we may now ask of PEJ: Why should Joseph (and the rest of his family) assume
or know that Jesus needs to escape from Herod the Great’s wrath by their leaving
Bethlehem? It is, therefore, suggested that these disturbances seem to take place
only there (according to PEJ 21).
In this context the eastern kings, known as the Wise Men or the Magi, duly follow
a star and thereby not only find and worship Jesus but also thwart King Herod’s
plans to have Jesus killed. The gold, frankincense and myrrh from their communal
(or individual) pouches is a tale that follows Matthew’s Gospel, for the most part.
Joseph, rather like Joachim earlier in PEJ, was also said to have been exceptionally
wealthy and well-known. His failure to hold a welcoming party for the whole of the
Jewish council on his return home to Jerusalem is symptomatic of that wealth. Annas
the scribe’s visit to the house of both Joseph and Mary means that he sees her; she
is already several months pregnant.
Strangely, the story-teller both here and later in PEJ, has Mary ‘forget’ Gabriel’s
prior unique message to her, when later i.e. in PEJ 15, she is attending the rite known
as the Water of Discovery (or the Water of Conviction). This is an odd instance of
amnesia. In Num. 5:11–31 the two rites were both differentiated to reveal a woman’s
infidelity. It is odd that our author applies the test to Joseph and to Mary, which
involves both of them having publicly to drink the special water and then to depart
to the wilderness before then showing themselves to the high-priest to prove
(somehow) that neither has suffered from their having drunk the potion. In other
words, sufficient proof is here shown to have both of Jesus’ parents being declared
‘innocent’ — they are to be believed because both are pure. No sin is now found
(ἐφάνη) in them, although the verb makes it look as if, nonetheless, each has
underlying yet undetected sins.
Returning to PEJ 13 that chapter, telling of Joseph’s return home, portrays him,
just like Mary herself, as a virginal character (at least since his first wife had died). In
this context this apocryphon tells us that after his return, occurring during Mary’s
sixth month of pregnancy, Joseph ‘rests’ after the journey, as too had Joachim (PEJ
6). Whereas Joachim’s ‘rest’ may have been a euphemism for sexual activity, in
Joseph’s case he is likely to have really rested, especially as we are told in PEJ 13 that
this occurs several months into Mary’s pregnancy. Jesus’ birth is really therefore
portrayed as a unique virginal conception through the Holy Spirit (Ghost) and
 i nt ro d u ct i o n 17

indeed his birth is unique too. Mary remains a virgin for the rest of her days. She is
obviously a virgo intacta.4

Date

The Protevangelium itself was obviously very early and because of its longevity was
exceptionally popular and (as we shall also see below) very influential too; it survives
in c. 150 Greek witnesses which contain all or part of this work. de Strycker divides
his Greek manuscripts of PEJ into five families or groups.
If the Herod here is considered to be Herod the Great (who died c. 4 bce) then
the argument seems to be that the author or the subsequent copyists of his work
recognized only ‘James’ as James the Less, the brother of Jesus. (‘James’ as a name
occurs mutiple times often of differing characters especially in Mark’s Gospel. The
name never occurs in the Fourth Gospel.) However, Herod is more probably Herod
Antipas, and many scholars now say that PEJ was written around 200 ce. This is the
date I agree with.
Such a dating is pre-Origen (pace Hock p. 11 where the name is mis-spelled) and
also earlier than the days for Clement of Alexandria’s major writings. Origen died in
253 and Clement in 212. These dates provide appropriate termini ad quem for the PEJ.

Genre

In ancient times a history, especially of an heroic figure, had to be plausible. That

teaching obviously informed our author. His story about Mary, her ancestry and
her son’s life need not be ‘historic’ and provable to be accurate but only ‘plausible’
to qualify as an ἱστορία. Coupled with that description of the possible genre is the
tradition that he also followed the Christians’ adulation of Mary. PEJ is thus often
called an encomium or, perhaps even better, an apologia. It is, nevertheless, a literary
fiction, rather than a gospel, as traditionally understood.
PEJ may also sometimes be described as a midrash on what became the canonical
Gospels; the earliest two chapters in both Matthew and Luke also contain accounts
of Jesus’ birth. The Oxford Dictionary defines a midrash as: An ancient homiletic
commentary on a text from the Hebrew scriptures, characterized by non-literal interpretation
and legendary illustration. If this definition may be applied to PEJ, it is because it is a
typical re-writing of the earlier birth stories and related issues. However, there are

4 The ‘Immaculate Conception,’ as defined finally in the nineteenth century by the Vatican, refers to
a divinely encouraged birth, whereby a child thus conceived lacks the ‘stain’ of original sin. Justin
Martyr and Irenaeus speak of Mary, the theotokos, to be the one born free from sin. Roman Catholic
theologians define this old Christian doctrine as a dogma of the church. The dogma itself implies that
Mary’s conception put her outside original sin and that state results in Mary’s continuing sinlessness.
In itself it has nothing to do with a lack of male input. In other words, it could, of course, lead to
discussions of Anna’s status too — but need not do so, as she, unlike her daughter, is not a virgin, a
state that is significant in such teaching. The doctrine may indeed refer to the later conceiving of Jesus
by Mary but in its context here it is specifically intended to be applied to her mother, Anna.
18 in tro ducti o n

some differences, which suggest there were accidental alterations (or possibly, even
if only occasionally, deliberate changes) due to the writer’s abilities.
As for the Old Testament, often now referred to as the Hebrew Scriptures, this
florilegium also includes the writings to be found in the Old Testament Apocrypha
or Pseudepigrapha (i.e. the LXX or Septuagint). Those texts are made to give a
particular or even a peculiar sense to the burgeoning Christians’ scriptures (even if
the LXX were originally translated in order to assist Jews who had lost their ability to
read Hebrew — especially those in Egypt — from the third century bce onwards).
However, the author has made many errors regarding Jewish practices and its
Temple (the latter obviously must refer to the years pre 70 ce) and Palestinian
geography i.e. re Judaea. To expand the examples in my ANT (p. 51), we could
question also:
Was the ‘Water of Discovery’ ever administered as a drink for men? What was
the royal headband proffered by Anna’s slave? Why was the alleged fact that not ever
having produced a child in Israel made a cause celèbre for Anna and Joachim here?
The ‘Great Day of the Lord’. What was it and when did it occur? Was Mary really
from the line and house of David? Did Joseph have the priests’ permission to marry
‘properly’ i.e. to have consummated that marriage? (PEJ 5 implies that this is so, if
only he first were to tell — or to have already told — the ‘sons of Israel’.) What was
it that Joachim in PEJ 5 expected not to see (e.g. his own ‘sinfulness’) in the priest’s
frontlet/plate or headband (literally ‘leaf ’)?
The author of PEJ was certainly no Palestinian Jew.

Sources

Adolf von Harnack in 1897 was highly important in his day, looking for sources behind
all types of ancient literature. He tried to prove that the composition of PEJ was
dependent on numerous sources. For instance, he saw differing sources behind PEJ
1–17; 18–20 and 22–24. Nowadays, and especially since the discovery of the Bodmer
papyrus, in modern times, most contemporary scholars accept that the author of
PEJ put differing traditions together; hence the combination of styles and contents
that are to be found here in PEJ.

The Influence of the Protevangelium

To have Joseph described as an old widower with grown-up sons obviously

deals not only with the troublesome references to several dramatis personae with the
common name James and the biblical references to Jesus’ half- (or real) brothers (and
sisters); these characters are mentioned in the New Testament Gospels (e.g. Mark
6:3; 15:40; and Luke 24:10; 7:56, etc.). It was the belief that Mary was not a virgin or
that Joseph had had children from a different and earlier wife because Mary remained
a virgin throughout her life, which turned St Jerome, in particular, against the story
here. Another Church Father though, Epiphanius, accepted that Joseph already had
grown-up children at the time of his (reluctant) acceptance of Mary as his ward and
when he was about to become her guardian story.
 i nt ro d u ct i o n 19

Mariology is clearly in the author’s sights. As indicated above, the real heroine
of PEJ is Mary, Jesus’ mother. Her pre-history, upbringing, marriage to Joseph and
her being chosen by God to bear his only Son show that he described her as a ‘pure’
female from her conception, birth and then in her subsequent behaviour. Whether
we wish to call this apocryphon an encomium to her or not, her importance is
paramount here.
Christology also was a potent and major influence on the author. Just as his
mother is praised in PEJ, so too is, Jesus. His miraculous conception and birth are
also dominant themes. Both receive praise from all they meet.
Among its other possible sources and influences, we see in PEJ eastern Christianity
behind many of its themes. This apocryphon is never found in a full, proper, Latin
translation. Later, the Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew and the Gospel of the Birth of Mary,
having underplayed certain aspects of Mary’s background, are possibly the reasons
why those stories (albeit ultimately based on PEJ) were more popular in the west
having then been transmitted largely in Latin; they therefore replaced PEJ.
Frequent citations of the Old Testament especially the Septuagint (= LXX) are
noted in marginalia of the English translation, below. The LXX is often called the
Christians’ Old Testament especially by Jews, and hence generally avoided by Jewry
as an appropriate Greek version of the Hebrew scriptures to read. (This is despite the
favourable view of Christians and Christianity in this book.) Our author, however,
has a good knowledge of the Old Testament in Greek (probably using the LXX)
and especially the Pentateuch. One also notes the inclusion here of books that are
distinctive of the Old Testament Apocrypha, and known to us from the LXX. (I refer
here to works including Judith and Susanna in particular.).

Author

The author of this apocryphon is popularly known by modern scholars as James, as

indicated earlier. (This is the name used in my ANT. pp. 48–67.) If the name of its
author were indeed, or thought to have been, James the Less, i.e. a relative of Jesus’
(his brother), then that authorship made this book clearly authoritative. The name
‘James’ was certainly added relatively soon after its composition, but may not be
any more original to the text than the four names, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John
all of which were dutifully added to the originally anonymous Gospels. When one
possessed only one Gospel anonymity caused few problems. But one was obliged
to differentiate between them, once a community or an individual was in possession
of two or more similar works.

Versions

The popularity of PEJ was not restricted to only those who read Greek as their
mother tongue. Many versions in most of the Christian languages testify to its wider
popularity. PEJ occurs nowadays in Coptic, Syriac, Ethiopic, Armenian and also in
Georgian. Among patristic citations are those quotations from PEJ found in the
writings of inter alia Silvanus and of Andrew of Crete.
20 in tro ducti o n

Editors of the Protevangelium and Textual Criticism

Greek texts usually accept the longer text wherever a variant shortens it. That applies
also to the divine names. Thoroughgoing textual critics, especially those working
on manuscripts of the New Testament, tend always to print a shorter term; thus
a simple ‘Jesus’ would take precedence over a longer form, such as ‘Our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ,’ which probably came from prayers or from the liturgical use
of such a title. To shorten such a commonly used and well-known term would be
most improbable. Here in PEJ, however, the shorter term is likely to have been the
original. I therefore, print the fuller titles below. At PEJ 2, 7, 8, 11, 20, 25 I, likewise,
print δεσπότης (‘master’) mainly because of its comparative rarity compared with
Κύριος (‘Lord’) to which δεσπότης often comes as a variant. To my eye, it seems as
if the more commonly used and known expression (‘Lord’) would have replaced
‘Master’ throughout. The reverse direction does not happen.
Whenever the context and the variants allow it, I have preferred to write high-
priest rather than the shortened and possibly more democratic ‘priest’. Examples
may be found in PEJ chapters, 9, 10, 12, 15, 21. Note that the word ‘Temple’ found in
manuscripts in ch. 21 is better in that context than ‘priest’. Likewise where Gabriel
appears (i.e. in chapter 12) he is an ‘archangel’ rather than (in many manuscripts and
current editions) a mere ‘angel’.
Textual criticism prefers to use words like ‘longer’ or ‘shorter’ texts rather than
(as Tischendorf and Hock do) verbs like ‘omits’ and ‘adds,’ because those are words
which imply that the editor knows precisely what an earlier writer, editor or scribe
intended. Nonetheless, in the apparatus to his Greek pages, Hock has only some
seventeen places where he says that de Strycker ‘omits’ compared with c. 70 for
omissions allegedly made by Tischendorf.5 Hardly any of these alleged omissions
or indeed the additions significantly affect the story-lines’ translations into English.
Hock has a splendidly easy style in his translation of the Greek — he is readily
and confessedly idiomatic (even colloquial) in that section. But unlike others’ text,
Hock in his edition claims, in general, to be following de Strycker’s work. It seems
to me that it is better to do as Bart Ehrman and Zlatko Pleše do in their apparatus,
that is they specify precisely what their manuscripts actually used at each point of
variation, although they repeat the abbreviations c-o + codices omnes, c-p=codices
plerique (i.e. a few only of those manuscripts cited by von Tischendorf) and, only
occasionally c-n=codices nonnulli, to refer to two-thirds of other manuscripts used
by von Tischendorf. These two editors list all seventeen manuscripts (or eighteen if
F is to be divided into two portions) as found in von Tischendorf ’s edition. There
come four further witnesses used by Ehrman and Pleše as well as by de Strycker.
Those include Z, the code letter for the Bodmer witness, our oldest witness of the PEJ.
(As was indicated above, palaeographers usually assign a date in the third or fourth
century to this papyrus.) The other three witnesses cited by them all are S, X and

5 Most of (von) Tischendorf ’s manuscripts are mediaeval. (See also Tischendorf ’s edition in his EA
pp. xii–xxii.).
Other documents randomly have
different content
days and then decided to go back to her husband. Jael was against
it, but she was sure it was her duty to the Lord, and I would not
persuade her though my heart sank when she left us. He behaved
worse than before. The last few months at Torquay were beyond her
endurance and she began to sink away. Now here is a letter your
great-uncle wrote me just before she left him, when things had
reached their worst."

Messrs Vibart & Vickary,

Mincing Lane,
London.
Jan. 3rd, 1848.
Dear Hannah,—
I have been out of patience with you as you will know. Since
last March when she stayed with you and you allowed her to go
back to the fellow. If I don't hear definitely that she has left him
within the next ten days, infirm though I am, I shall take the
coach to Exeter and on to Torquay taking a friend with me, and
if we have any trouble whatever with Traies he will get such a
thrashing that he will not be able to appear in public for some
time. If ever there was a cruel, damned scoundrel who deserved
shooting he does, and should not in the least mind putting a
few bullets into him. What annoys me more than anything is
that you should encourage the poor girl, agreeing with her that
it is her Christian duty to remain there all this time and put up
with such diabolical cruelty; worst of all now that there is
another child on the way.
Let me know at once that she has left him or I shall act without
delay.
Your affectionate brother
John.
"And here is the last letter she ever wrote me herself. It was
snowing the day it reached me:"

The White House.

Torquay,
Jany 7th, 1848.
My dearest Mother,—
Your kind and loving letter came yesterday. Well, mother dear, I
have given in. I have decided to go away. I am weaker now,
broken in body and spirit, and if I stay here with his taunts and
ill-treatment I shall go mad or die. In any case I think it is the
latter; but now that there is a child coming, for its sake I must
go where I shall have more peace. My life is a broken failure.
Four short years ago what a happy girl I was at the Hall with
kind people around me, a loving little boy as my daily
companion, and I was a credit and pride to you all. I know you
never wanted me to marry him. I chose my way and I have
failed utterly. Yes I know, mother, I know with a positive
assurance that I could have loved a good and loving husband as
much as any woman in the world; it was in me. Well, it is no
good talking of that now, for I have not very long before me
now. Today I told him I was leaving him for the last time. He
mocked in his usual sort of way, but I am beyond minding that.
He is too much of a coward, I have come to know, to prevent
my leaving by physical force. I hope to get away tomorrow, and
am already halfway through my packing, so expect me very
soon.
Your loving
Rachel.

My Grandmother spoke in a calm way, much sadder than any

sobbing or crying. Here for the only time she put her handkerchief to
her eyes for a moment. "Just at the time your dear mother came
back to us to die, my little boy Christian was dying too. The day after
we buried him you were born, then seven days later your mother
died. Your Great-Aunt was a good sister to me, she took turns at
sitting with your mother every night; saw the friends who called and
wrote all the letters. Here is a copy of what she wrote to your Great-
Uncle:

Northgate House,
High Street,
Tawborough.
March 2nd, 1848.
Dear Brother,—
You will be glad of a line to tell you a fine girl was born this
morning at half past five; the baby is doing splendidly, but
Rachel is very weak. Nurse and doctor are in constant
attendance. Hannah stays with her all the time and doesn't go
downstairs. With young Christian just buried the Lord is trying
us hard. We are truly passing through the waters of affliction.
Hannah is too busy to write herself or I should not be writing to
you, the first time I think for nearly thirty years.
Your affectionate sister,
Jael Vickary.

"Here is your Great-Uncle's reply, addressed to me:"

London.
In haste.
Dear Hannah,—
Do everything possible for dear Rachel as regards nursing and
doctors that money can command. I pay everything.
John.
"And two more letters your Great-Aunt wrote to your Great-Uncle
will tell how your dear mother died:"

Northgate House,
High Street,
Tawborough.
March 8th, 1848.
Dear Brother,—
I write again to give you news of Rachel. Upon receiving your
kind note we decided on calling in Doctor Little but I don't think
he can do more than Dr. Le Mesurier has, he has been
unremitting in attention but there will be nothing to regret in
having had further advice. Nurse Baker looks after the baby, she
is a very nice child and is doing well. Hannah is wonderfully
sustained, she sat with Rachel last night, I was with her the
night before. It would make things very much easier if Martha
would come over from Torribridge but Mr. Greeber, her husband,
will not allow it, pleading their own child who is as healthy as he
is ugly and now quite a year old. Rachel has been wandering
today, sewing and arranging garments for the child. She suffers
badly. The doctor thinks it is peritonitis. I fear it will be but a
few days more, it wrings my heart to write it.
I have just taken the liberty of writing a note to Lord
Tawborough to ask him to use his influence with his cousin that
the child may remain to be brought up by us in case of Rachel
being removed from this world. He replies he will insist on it. It
has comforted Rachel greatly. I wrote to Mr. Traies a few lines
on the day she was confined to state the fact of a girl being
born and that his wife was not doing too well, commencing
"Dear Sir" (being civil). I am glad it was done, although he did
not respond; we have done our part and shall not write to him
again until she ceases to be his wife. Oh brother, when I think
of how the wretched man has hounded her and brought her
down in health and strength to an early grave (for the doctor
says she had not the strength to go through her confinement
because of the harass and ill-treatment that preceded) I feel he
will have a recompense even in this world for his cruelty ...
God's vengeance is sure, and He will avenge. The doctor now
says twenty-four hours will decide. We give her Valentine's
extract of milk and ice which she takes every half hour ...
nothing has been left undone. May God bless the means and
give us grace to bear His will.
Regret you are not well enough to travel. If you had been well
enough to come I need not say that for Hannah's and Rachel's
sake I would have let by gones be by gones, so with our united
love, I remain,
Your affectionate sister,
Jael Vickary.

Northgate House,
High Street,
Tawborough.
March 9th, 1848.
Dear Brother,—
Dear Rachel was unconscious all the night but didn't seem to
suffer. She gradually sank and peacefully departed at a quarter
past ten. I know you will not be able to come to the funeral but
we know all your love to your beloved niece during her life.
Hannah scarcely realizes it as yet. Dear Rachel wished the baby
to be called Mary. She gave a few directions most calmly and
quietly, and wished the text, if we had cards, to be "Made meet
to be partakers of the inheritance of the Saints in light," or else
"These are they which came out of great tribulation." Hannah is
hearing up well, sustained by the Lord's grace. Thy will be done.
With our united love,
Your affectionate sister,
Jael Vickary.
 * * * * * * *
"And so she died," concluded my Grandmother, "and left you to me."
I wanted to hear more. "And the man?"
"What man?"
"My—father." It was one of the hardest things I ever did to utter that
word. I felt foolish, flushed, and somehow wicked. The word was
unfamiliar, and it was vile.
"Well, I wrote him a letter saying I forgave him for everything—"
"Forgave him, Grandmother!" I cried. "That was wicked!"
"I forgave him as I hoped the Lord would too. I just told him in the
letter about her funeral and how it had passed off."
"Did he write back?"
"Yes, and in all his life there was nothing so cruel as the reply he
sent me. Here it is. I know the foreign note-paper; for he went
abroad straight away to avoid the scandal and trouble, though the
Saints at Torquay publicly expelled him from their Meeting when
they knew the facts. Listen:—

Hotel Meurice, Paris.

March 31st, 1848.
Madam,—
Your letter apprehending me of my late wife's funeral has been
forwarded to me. If you imagine this thinly veiled hint that I
should bear the funeral expenses will succeed, you are
singularly mistaken. For such a wife, nominally Christian, who
deserted her husband, I propose to do nothing of the kind. You
may sue me at law, of course; but pause for a moment: would
your dead daughter have wished you to?
 Yours truly,
Philip A. G. Traies.

"May God in His mercy forgive him for writing that. It took me years
to be able to. I have never heard from him since. I heard he sold the
house in Torquay and lives mostly abroad. That, my dearie, is the
end of a long story. Always love the memory of your dear, good
mother and try if you can to forgive your father, for whatever he has
done, he is your father."
"I will never forgive him, it would be wrong to forgive people who
have done things to you like that. Never!"
"It's the only true forgiveness, my dear, to forgive those who wrong
you cruelly."
"I shall forgive every one in the world; but him, never."
* * * * * * *
I don't think these events are told out of their place. It was at this
stage of my life that all these past doings entered my life; it is here
they should be told. For me they took place now; from now onwards
they influenced my life and thoughts. Of the impressions I received,
pity and love for my mother, and hate and loathing for my father
ranked equally. I thought of her still as an angel, but her eyes were
sadder. As for him, I vowed to myself that afternoon, that some day
in some way I would avenge my mother. How I kept that vow is
another story; till then this resolve had a constant place in my life
and imagination. It did a good deal to embitter a view of the world
already gloomy enough for ten years old.
These were not the only emotions rushing through my heart that
afternoon. There was admiration and love of my Grandmother; how
greatly she had suffered, how little she complained, how heroically
she forgave. There was a new reluctant respect for Aunt Jael; and a
quickening affection for all who had been good to my mother, chiefly
for Great-Uncle John, who in two short hours had been transformed
for me from a shadowy name into a warm and noble reality; for
others also who took a lesser part, such as the kind people where
she had been governess and the little boy who loved her; for Brother
Frean and the sympathetic Saints at Torquay. While I sat biting my
nails and thinking a hundred new things, some kind, some sad,
some hideous and bitter, Grandmother was still rummaging among
the letters.
"Why, here's a bundle of those she wrote when she was at Woolthy
Hall, in her first happy days there. Listen, my dear, I'll read you the
first she wrote:"—

Woolthy Hall,
North Devon.
Friday.
Dearest Mother,—
I hope you got my first note saying I had arrived safely. I am
very happy here, I have a nice little room to myself
commanding a lovely view of the Park. I went to see Lord
Tawborough in his study the same night that I arrived, and he
was very kind. There will be no invidious treatment here, of the
kind you hear governesses sometimes have to put up with. The
work will be pleasant, the little boy took to me at once. He has
brown eyes and a frank little face, rather solemn for his age,
indeed I think he likes reading books too much and not too
little. The meals are of course very good and I never felt better.
Yesterday we went a carriage drive to Northbury, and picked
primroses in the woods there, five huge bunches. The spring is
a lovely time. It makes me happy because it is the beginning of
the year and promises so much, just as I am at a new beginning
of my life here, feeling sure I shall have a very happy time.
Send the cotton blouses and straw hat, for there's a fine
summer ahead!
With love to Aunt Jael and very much to your dear self from
 Your loving
Rachel.

As Grandmother finished reading, I sobbed as though my heart

would break, for that happy letter was the saddest of them all. I
have read somewhere that with old letters, the happier they are, the
more full of hope and life the writers, the more vivid and intense and
joyful the sense of the present time the more melancholy they are to
read in later years. The hopes then so warm and fresh seem now so
far away. Men and women who when they wrote were hoping and
planning are now but hollow-eyed and rotting dust. Vanity of
vanities, saith the Preacher, all is vanity.
CHAPTER XI: EXTRAORDINARY
MEETING FOR PRAYER, PRAISE
AND PURGING
For some time all had not been well among the Saints. There was
evidence of worldliness, backsliding, apostasy and sin. The Devil was
active in our midst.
Certain Saints, after tasting for years the privilege of fellowship, had
left us: for chapel, or church, or nowhere. Others were becoming
irregular in their attendance or took part in our devotions without
fervour. There was moral backsliding too: chambering and
wantonness. Blind Joe Packe had been discovered by Brother
Quappleworthy in a drunken stupor on the floor of the attic in which
he lived, when the latter was paying him one of his customary visits
of Bible-reading and exhortation. There walked abroad also a vaguer,
darker sin than drink that I did not clearly apprehend, of which
certain of the younger Brothers who were "keeping company" with
certain of the younger Sisters were whispered to be guilty. The most
flagrant example, I gathered from a shrouded conversation between
Grandmother and Aunt Jael, was Sister Lucy Fry, who had a baby,
but no husband. I thought this a curiosity rather than a crime. For
whatever reason, it aroused a sharp difference of opinion; Aunt Jael
denounced the awfulness of Lucy's sin, Grandmother urged that she
was more sinned against than sinning.
Then Sister Prideaux had been to some concert or "theatre" during a
holiday at Exeter. The precise nature of the godless entertainment
was not ascertained. Nor was it clear how the news had reached us,
though most thought it was wormed out of Sister Quappleworthy by
Sister Yeo. The latter openly taxed Miss Prideaux with it.
"So you went to the theayter did you, over to Exeter? Next time
you're there I suppose you'll be a-going to the Cathedril!"
Then there were the parliamentary elections in which some of the
Saints had been taking an unsaintly interest, voting for and
championing this candidate or that; a form of meddling with this
world's affairs which Pentecost regarded with special disfavour.
Indeed Rumour had it that one or two of the younger Brethren took
part in the famous polling-day brawl in the vegetable market.
Several of even the most prominent Saints expressed preferences.
Brother Browning being a draper was Radical, Brother
Quappleworthy being an intellectual was Whig, Brother Briggs being
an oilman was Tory.
Aunt Jael was an unbenevolent neutral. "They're all much of a
muchness and none of 'em any good to folk, neither in the next
world nor in this either. In our family, if we had been anything at all,
we'd always have been Whig—except the child's mother. She was
Tory, or liked to think she was. All the gentlefolk belonged to the
Tories, and that was always enough for Rachel."
I was henceforward a fanatical Tory, though I had not the dimmest
notion what it meant, except that it was somehow connected with
London and the Parliament. Aunt Jael refused to explain;
Grandmother said it was not worth explaining.
Brother Brawn related how on the occasion of a visit from some
canvassers he had struck a blow for righteousness. "They knocked at
my front door," he told Aunt Jael, "folk as I'd never spoken to avore,
nor so much as seen; 'Good mornin' sir,' said one of them, a tall, thin
man with spectacles he was, 'whose side are you on? Davie and
Potts[2] I trust.' 'No,' I said, 'I'm on the side of the Laur Jesus
Christ,' and I slammed the door in their faces. 'Twas a word in
season."
About this time there was an epidemic of minor illnesses, which
Grandmother said could only be the hand of the Lord extended in
chastisement for sins which the suffering ones had committed. More
modern folk would have sought explanation in low vitality, indoor
habits or bad drainage, but point was given to my Grandmother's
contention by the fact that Sister Prideaux and Lucy Fry, prominent
among the sinners, were about this time laid low with illness—the
latter not unnaturally. Her own attack of bronchitis, she attributed to
the selfish indulgence she had shown of late in perpetually studying
her own favourite portions of the Word and neglecting
(comparatively) those she favoured less.
Worst of all, that piece of sugar which for nineteen years—the period
is always the same in my memory—had been placed in our offertory
as an insult to the Lord had now for two Sundays past become four
pieces, one in each of the four partitions, a little bit of sugar for
Expenses, a little bit of sugar for Foreign Field, a little bit of sugar for
Ministry, a little bit of sugar for Poor. It had been serious enough
years ago when the box with the narrow slits had been substituted
for the bag, and the sinner had merely retaliated by putting a small
piece through one of the slits instead of a large lump down the
gaping abyss of the bag. But now—four pieces, one in each
partition,—what deftness in utter sin! What zeal in ill-doing! Who
was this wolf in sheep's clothing, this sinner who could sit at the
Lord's table for nineteen years and harden his heart Lord's day after
Lord's day by offering this mockery of an oblation to his Saviour?
Who was this evil spirit slim-fingered enough to perform this fourfold
naughtiness, and yet remain undetected, unguessed? We all peered
at our neighbours. Brother Brawn even began following the box in its
voyage round the Meeting, instead of merely handing it to the first
giver and taking it from the last; for all his spying he could find
nothing. Was he the man?
Thus in devious ways was the Devil active in our midst. He must be
exorcised.
Sister Yeo's idea of a Special Extraordinary Meeting to chase him out
was finally adopted. All the Saints should assemble on a week night
to pray for help, and for the discovery, confession and true
repentance of all the various sinners; to purge the repentant of their
sins and to praise the Lord for pardoning them; to purge the Meeting
itself of the stubborn and unrepentant—to cast them into the outer
darkness. There should be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
A preliminary meeting to decide on procedure and agenda was held
in our dining-room. The committee which assembled was chosen by
Aunt Jael and consisted of herself, Grandmother, Pentecost, Brothers
Quappleworthy (despite theatre-going sister-in-law and known
electioneering lapses), Brawn and Browning. Also, at Pentecost's
special plea—"'Twill be a sacrifice of self, I know, dear Sister Vickary;
that is why I urge it"—Sister Yeo was admitted. As soon as all the
committee had arrived I was bundled out of the room, so I knew
nothing of what was to happen except what I gathered from ear-
straining on the staircase, and chance conversation between
Grandmother and Aunt Jael afterwards. I gathered this much: that
the Extraordinary Meeting was to be preceded by a Tea.
To this same Tea on a memorable Saturday afternoon we proceeded;
Grandmother, Aunt Jael, Mrs. Cheese and I. It is the only single
occasion in my memory when the Saints met together for public
eating. In nothing did we differ more from the general body of
nonconformists with their socials, bun-fights, feastings, reunions,
conversazioni and congregational guzzles.
The Room presented an unusual sight. There were four long trestle
tables covered with white cloths and laden with food, with forms
drawn up beside them. The Saints, dressed in their Sunday best,
were standing about in groups when we arrived. Aunt Jael, puffed
with the energies of her walk, sat down at once on the end of a
bench. Her weight sent the other end soaring gaily into the air while
she landed on the floor with a most notable thud. The form banged
back, not into position, but with a swirling movement on to a plate
of bread and butter.
There is proof of the awful respect in which Aunt Jael was held in
this: that not a soul dared to smile as she sat there on her broad
posterior. For a moment or two no one even dared to help her to her
feet, fearing an outburst, for people like Aunt Jael are most
dangerous when you try to help them out of a predicament. Then by
a sudden gregarious instinct every one ran forward together in a
sheep-like mass, and bore Aunt Jael—red, antagonistic and
threatening—to her feet.
After a blessing had been asked by Pentecost, we sat down to tea. I
recall ham, bath-buns and potted-meat sandwiches. After tea the
tables were cleared, the trestles packed away and the crockery and
cutlery, all of which had been lent, were put back uncleansed in
clothes-baskets in which they had been brought by the owners; for
the Room possessed no washing-up facilities. The forms were then
rearranged as for Breaking of Bread. Pentecost sat in his accustomed
place at the right of the Table as you faced it; we in our usual front
row; Brother Briggs to the right, Brother Quick to the left, Brother
Marks, the old Personal Devil of my imagination, far away in his
goggled corner. In the pulpit or dais, which was only used for the
evening gospel meeting, were ranged Brother Quappleworthy—in
the centre, in charge of proceedings—Brother Brawn on the right
and Brother Browning on the left. Precedence and position had been
arranged at the committee meeting in our dining-room, when
Brother Quappleworthy had been chosen as chairman. The whole
staging was as for a meeting in the secular meaning of the word.
Indeed I remember feeling that the whole affair was a sort of
excitement or entertainment rather than a religious service. This
feeling vanished like dew with the dawn when Pentecost stood up
and in a short prayer of exceeding solemnity craved the Lord's
blessing on our proceedings. The keynote was SIN, its detection,
confession, atonement; "and Sin, Lord, is a terrible thing."
Brother Quappleworthy rose to deal with the business before the
house. "First now, brethren, there's the question of those Saints who
have absented themselves from our—ah—mutual ministrations,
those backsliders who have left the Lord's table for other so-called
Christian bodies or the walks of open indifference and—er—
infidelity." Brawn and Browning murmured agreement.
Sister Yeo's voice rang out accusing and metallic: "You're a fine one,
Brother Browning, to um-um-er, and to sit in judgment on others.
First cast out the beam from thine own eye! What of your own
wedded wife who goes openly to the Bible Christian chapel, and 'as
done these fifteen years; a source of stumbling and error to all the
weaker brethren." (Sensation.)
"Silence, Sister," cried Brother Quappleworthy, "none may speak
here to accuse others, only to accuse self."
"True," murmured the Meeting, and the Chairman resumed his
discourse. "A list has been—ah—prayerfully prepared of all the
Saints who have withheld themselves from fellowship for a space of
time. Do all our Brothers and Sisters agree that they be struck off
our roll of grace? Shall we say 'Ay' as we call each name? Brother
Mogridge."
"Ay," arose murmurously.
"Sister Mogridge."
"Ay."
"Sister Polly Mogridge."
"Ay."
"Brother Richardson."
"Ay."
"Sister Petter."
This time our tongues (I say "our" because I had joined unctuously
in the Ay's) stopped short just in time as we remembered that Sister
Petter was present. We all turned towards her. Her hand was over
her eyes, and she was weeping.
"Sister Petter," called Brother Quappleworthy in a solemn voice. "You
who scoffed to unbelievers of the ministrations of the Saints, You, I
say!..."
"Lord forgive me," she moaned. "Oh Lord forgive me."
Pentecost arose with beaming face. "There's joy in the presence of
the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." He went over to
her and put his hand on her shoulder saying, "Sister, be of good
cheer, the Lord hath forgiven thy sin."
"Amen," said we all.
Drink and theatre-going and elections and illnesses were all dealt
with then in their turn; I remember them hazily. When the
denouncing voice uttered the name Lucy Fry, I woke up into the
most wide-awake interest, for a visible hush descended on the
Meeting.
Brother Quappleworthy had lost his usual urbanity: "Sin of sins,
abomination of abominations." His face was hard and fanatical.
My eyes kept straying to the place where Lucy sat. She was a young
fresh-faced country girl. Tonight her rosy cheeks were pale, her eyes
drawn and she sobbed quietly but continually as her shame was
exposed before us.
"Sister, repentest thou? Stand up, I say! Repent!"
It was too much. The poor girl fainted. They bore her out insensible.
"Her first time out of doors," I heard it whispered, "since the child
was born."
A feeling of pity was evident among the Saints. Brother
Quappleworthy realized this and was determined to crush it.
"Remember, brethren, it is a sin too grave, too vile for God to wink
at. No dallying with sin! I put it to you that Sister Fry be excluded
from fellowship. A fleshly sinner must not pollute the Lord's table."
"Chase her out, Lord," cried Brother Brawn, "this adulterous
woman!"
"No," said Brother Browning, nervously, bravely. "She repents; the
Lord will be for mercy." The three Brothers fell to disputing on the
dais, and the discussion spread to the whole body of the Saints till
there was a veritable hubbub in the Room. Brother Quappleworthy
quelled it by calling out in a loud voice: "The Lord will show His will
by means of a vote. Now those brethren who think it right that
Sister Lucy Fry, the self-confessed sinner, be excluded from the
Lord's table put up their hands."
Thirty-six hands were counted.
"Now those brethren who think that she, the sinning woman, should
remain in fellowship."
Twenty hands only were shown. Thus by sixteen votes the Lord, who
is merciful, voted against poor Lucy.
Then a surprising thing happened. My Grandmother, for the only
time in my experience, stood up: "I have one question, brethren.
Who is the man?"
No one had thought of that. No one does.
There was a whispering. It was confirmed that Lucy's guilty partner
—whatever that might mean—was not a Saint and that nothing
could therefore be done.
Brother Quappleworthy with sure dramatic instinct had reserved till
the last the super-sin: Sugar. "This work of Satan persevered in over
so long a period in a human heart ... For nineteen years ..." and so
on. He wound up by conjuring the sinner to confess, to repent ere it
was too late.
There was no response to his appeal, and a flat and rather foolish
silence ensued. Then Pentecost Dodderidge prayed lengthily and
earnestly that the sinner might be moved to reveal himself. Then
another long fruitless silence.
Pentecost arose again, solemn and determined: "Brethren, we must
slay the Evil One working in one poor sinner's heart, now, this
evening—now or never. No one shall leave this room until the guilty
one has confessed, not if we stay here for forty days and forty
nights. Let us pray silently that he may be moved."
A new silence followed, but this time I was somehow expectant. The
minutes, however, dragged on, five, ten, fifteen; I watched the
crawling clock. Surely it could not last for ever, surely the patience of
the sinner must be worn out by our unending vigil.
There was a noise of some one moving. Every one opened their eyes
and looked up. It was only Pentecost Dodderidge on his feet again.
"The Lord hath made it plain to me. He saith 'I will send a sign and
then the sinner will confess.'" Hardly had he sat down than there
was a great pelting of hail on the roof which continued for two or
three minutes. With the noise no one heard Brother Marks, my
spectacled Personal Devil, until he stood in front of the Lord's Table
facing us all with a countenance of ghost-like white.
What followed I could never have believed had I not seen it with my
own eyes. He took a dark blue paper package from one pocket and
emptied it on one side of the Lord's Table; a shower of sugar came
forth: little white lumps, the sort with which he had fooled us—
preserving sugar the grocers call it, the sort with which jam is made.
Then he took out from his other pocket a little cloth bag and poured
out into a separate heap on the other side of the Lord's Table a
shining heap of golden coins. Then he knelt down in front of us all
and sobbed and groaned and rocked himself to and fro in an
extreme agony that was terrible to see.
No one knew what to do, no one except Pentecost, who went up to
him and lifted him to his feet; "Jesus forgives thee," he said, "let all
of us praise His Holy Name."
The whole Meeting sprang to its feet, and burst forth into a hymn of
praise. A solemn fast was declared for seven days, and we sang the
Good-night Hymn:

Good night, dear saints, adieu! adieu!

Still in God's way delight;
May grace and truth abide with you—
Good night, dear saints, good night.

When we ascend to realms above,

And view the glorious sight,
We'll sing of His redeeming love,
And never say Good night.

Good night, dear saints, adieu! adieu!

Still in God's way delight;
May grace and truth abide with you—
Good night, dear saints, good night.

FOOTNOTE:
[2] Colonel Ferguson-Davie of Crediton and Mr. George Potts of
Trafalgar Lawn, Tawborough, the two candidates successfully
returned for the Borough at the Election of 1859.
CHAPTER XII: THE GREAT
DISCLOSURE
Soon after this, somewhere about my tenth birthday, in the early
spring of 1858, an important relaxation in my rule of life was made.
I was allowed, under strict limitations, to go out on the Lawn for a
certain period every afternoon, and to mix with the children there.
In view of my Great-Aunt's principle, namely, to make my life as
harsh and pleasureless as possible, and of my Grandmother's
steadfast prayers and endeavours to keep me pure and unspotted
from the world, this was a big concession. The reason was my
health. Grandmother saw that I never got out of doors half enough,
and that a couple of hours' play with other children in the open air
would be likely to make me brighter in spirit and to bring colour to
my cheeks. One Lord's Day, as we were walking home from Breaking
of Bread, I overheard Brother Browning: "If you don't take care she
will not be long for this world,"—nodding his head sadly, sagely and
surreptitiously in my direction. Anyway, the amazing happened, and
with stern negative injunctions from Aunt Jael not to abuse the new
privilege, nor to play "monkey tricks," for which I should be well
"warmed," and with more positive and more terrible instructions
from my Grandmother to use my opportunity among the other
children to "testify to my Lord," I was launched on the sea of secular
society, the world of the Great Unsaved.
Except for what little I saw of them at the Misses Clinkers' I had no
acquaintance with other children, nor any knowledge of their "play."
While in the obedient orbit of my own imagination, I was bold, none
bolder, in the situations I created, the climaxes I achieved, the high
astounding terms with which I threatened the attic walls; face to
face with flesh-and-blood children of my own age, I soon found I
was shy to a degree, until they were out of my sight, and I was
alone again, when they joined the ever-lengthening cast of my
puppet show, and, like everybody else, did as they were bid. Not
that I was shy of grown-ups; it was the fruit of my upbringing that I
was at ease with any one but my equals.
It was a horrible ordeal, that first afternoon, when I stepped through
our garden gate on to the Lawn. I walked unsteadily, not daring to
look towards the grass slope at the higher end, where all the Lawn
children were assembled in a group. "Waiting for you! Staring at
you!" said self-consciousness; and fear echoed. I flushed crimson. I
was half sick with shyness. It seemed to my imagination that every
child was staring at me with a hundred eyes—they knew, they knew!
Marcus had heralded the fact, had played Baptist to my coming—
they were all assembled here to stare, to flout, to mock. How I
wished the earth would open and swallow me up or that the Lord
would carry me away in a great cloud to Heaven. I dared not fly
back into our garden: that way lay eternal derision. Yet my legs
would not carry me forward to the group of children who stood there
staring at me without mercy, without pity, with the callous fixity of
stars. I was filled with blind confusion, and prayed feverishly for a
miraculous escape.
Miracle, in the body of Marcus, saved me. He came forward from the
group.
"Hello, Mary Lee, we've been talking about you." (Of course they
had.) "I've told everybody you're allowed to play on the Lawn now,
but we don't know which League you ought to belong to."
"What do you mean? What's a League?"
"Well, all Lawn children are in two sides for games and everything.
Leagues means that. If your father and mother go to Church, you
belong to the Church League, if they go to Chapel, you belong to the
Chapel League."
"I see." Secular distinction based on religious ones was a principle I
understood.
"Yes, but you're not one or the other. Brethren aren't Church, are
they? And they aren't really Chapel."
"You're a Brethren too."
"Not like you are. Mother goes to the Bible Christian Chapel, and
father really belongs there too, for all he goes to your meeting. So I
count as Chapel."
"What do Papists count as?"
"There aren't any. If there were any and if they were allowed to go
about, they'd be like you, neither one thing nor the other."
"Like me indeed! Papists like Brethren! Saints like sinners!"
"Not really, not like that; Brethren are more like Chapel, I know.
Besides I want you to belong to our League, but—Joe Jones says
you're not to. There's a meeting about it tomorrow. All our rules and
sports and everything are decided at the meeting we have—not like
Brethren meetings—usually up at the top of the bank, near the big
poplar. Joe Jones sits on the wall, and he's our president. I'll let you
know what happens about you afterwards. Till then I don't think
you'd better play with us. I don't mind, but the others say you'd
better not. If Joe Jones caught you! I don't like Joe Jones,—don't
you ever whisper that, it's a terrible secret—but he doesn't like you,
and he's the top dog."
Joe Jones, topmost of dogs, Autocrat of the Lawn, pimpled despot
against whose evil pleasure little could prevail, was a good deal older
than the rest of the children, by whom he was obeyed and feared.
From what Marcus said his heavy hand was against me from the
start. I knew why. He lived next door to us at Number Six, with an
invalid, widowed mother (whom I had only seen once or twice in my
life, as she was kept indoors by some mysterious infirmity which
some described as grief and others drink) and his sister Lena, a big
freckled flaxen girl about a year younger than himself. We rarely saw
any of the three, and our household of course had nothing to do
with theirs (Church of England, strict). But one morning as I was
walking up the Lawn path on my way from school, Lena had called
out to me over the privet hedge.
"Hello, you!"—and then something else, including a word I did not
know, though instinct told me it was bad. The obscenity of the
traditional filth words lies as much in their sound as in their
signification. She repeated the words several times, combining
artistic pleasure of mouthing the abomination with sheer joy of
wickedness in shocking me and staining my imagination.
I went straight indoors and appealed to the dictionary. No help
there; Lena Jones had wider verbal resources than Doctor Johnson.
Grandmother would be sure to know. I went to that dear blameless
old soul with the foul word on my lips.
"What does —— mean?"
"Nothing good, my dear," she replied calmly, imperturbably, without
a trace of the flush that would have appeared in the cheeks of
ninety-nine parents out of a hundred. "Nothing good, my dear.
Where did you hear it?"
"Lena Jones—just now."
Grandmother walked out of the house and rang the next-door bell.
What passed between her and the grief- (or gin-) stricken Mrs. Jones
I do not know, but the results were, first, that Lena was sent away
to a boarding-school, where I have no doubt she added suitably to
the virgin vocabulary of her companions; second, that Joe, taking up
the cudgels for his sister's honour, became suddenly and most
unfavourably aware of my existence. He would threaten me if I
passed him on my way to school, when I would cower to Marcus for
protection. Once he chased me with a cricket bat. And now that at
last I was near to gaining the status of "one of the Lawn children,"
he was going to revenge himself by standing in my way. With the
Lawn community a word from Joe Jones could make or mar. If he
forbade the others to speak to me, they would not dare to; if he
ordered them to persecute or tease me, they would obey. He was
the typical bully ruling with the rod of fear by the right of size. He
was the typical plague-spot too, polluting the whole life of the little
community.
For the Lawn was, in the true sense, a community. The well-defined
bournes that were set to the oblong patch of greensward—the
steep, poplar-crowned grass bank at one end, surmounted by a wall
over which you looked down into a back lane and a stable some
twenty feet below you; at the opposite end that marched with the
street the high brick wall with one ceremonious gate in the middle
for only egress to the outside world; then the two rows of houses
the full length of both sides—gave to it a separate and self-contained
character; the charm and magical selfishness of an island. All the
children who lived in the Lawn houses played there, and played
nowhere else. Though divided into two mutually hostile leagues,
they felt themselves to be one blood and one people as against the
strange world without the gates. Of this community Joe Jones was
the uncrowned King. Like the early Teutonic monarchs he was
limited in power by the folk-moot, or primitive parliament of all his
subjects. Questions of Lawn politics were decided at democratic
meetings under the poplars at the top of the grass bank. There were
equal suffrage, decisions by majorities, and the feminine vote.
Unfortunately Joe Jones had the casting vote, and as there prevailed
the show-of-hands instead of the secret ballot, a look from his awful
eye influenced a good many other votes as well. In short, the Lawn,
like all other democracies, was, as wise old Aristotle saw, always
near the verge of tyranny. At the tribal meetings were discussed and
decided sports and competitions, penalties and punishments,
ostracisms and taboos; unpopular proposals were consigned to
Limbo, unpopular persons to Coventry. In all doings that allowed of
"sides"—cricket, nuts-in-May, most ball games, tug of war, tick, Red
Indians, clumps (what were they, these mysteries?)—the two
leagues, Marcus told me, were arrayed in battle against each other.
The Church League was of course led by Joe Jones, seconded, until
her departure for wider spheres of maleficence, by his devoted sister
Lena. Then there were Kitty and Molly Prince, also fatherless. Their
late parent was a "Rural Dean," and they were thus our social élite
(Mr. Jones, Senior, had been a mere butcher;—nay, pork-butcher
even, said the slanderers, with a fine feeling for social shades). Kitty
and Molly were dull, stupid girls. Molly was as sallow as a dried
apple; Kitty lisped; they were always dressed in brown, with large
brown velvet bows in their hats. There was a dim George Smith; a
loud-voiced Ted King, Joe Jones' principal ally, with his two sisters
Cissie and Trixie. I hate them vaguely to this day, that silly giggling
pair with their silly giggling names. I do not forget or forgive that
they wore nice clothes, and mocked cruelly at mine. About this time,
Aunt Jael had my hair shorn—it was my one good feature, and Aunt
Jael knew that I knew it, and decreed that I must "mortify the flesh"
accordingly—and sent me out into a mocking world in school and
Lawn, with my face full of shame and my hair clipped to the head
like a boy's. How those King girls sneered and giggled, and how I
loathed them. Finally there was little John Blackmore, of whom it
was whispered abroad that "his father died before he was born." The
import of this fact was dimly apprehended, but Lawn opinion was
unanimous in regarding it as something unique and special,
something sufficient to endow little Johnny Blackmore with an air of
quite exotic velvet-trousered mystery. He was a gentle, dark-eyed,
olive-skinned child, and the only member of the Establishment party
I could abide. He shared the fatherlessness which was common to
his League—the Kings were an exception—and which probably
accounted for their eminence in ill-behaviour. Another coincidence
was that all the members of the Church League, except George
Smith, lived on our side of the Lawn, i. e. the same side as my
Grandmother's house. In defiance of Number Eight, Fort of
Plymouth, halting-place for heaven, they called it "the Church side!"
The leader of the Chapel League was Laurie Prideaux, whose father
kept the big grocer's shop in High Street; a tall, pretty, picture-book
boy with golden curls, a Wesleyan Methodist, and I think the nicest
of all the Lawn children, with whom his influence was second to Joe
Jones' only, and for good instead of evil. The power of one was
because he was liked, of the other because he was feared: those
two forms of power that hold sway everywhere—Aunt Jael and
Grandmother, Old Testament God and New Testament Christ; fear
and love. If there was any weeping, Laurie was there to comfort it;
any injustice, Laurie would champion it. Against Joe Jones he was
my rod and my staff. His second-in-command was Marcus, Marcus
who hovered on the marge between Bible Christianhood, which
qualified him for admission to the Lawn, and Plymouth Brethrenism,
which qualified him for admission to Heaven only. He was a nice boy,
Marcus, for all the uncertainty of his theological position, and I
remember him as one of the few bright faces of my early life. The
strength of Lawn Dissent lay in the unnumbered Boldero family, a
seething brood of Congregationalists, who lived over the way in the
corner house opposite Number Eight. Only five of them were of
appropriate age to possess present membership of the Lawn—Sam,
Dora, Daisy, Bill and Zoë—but on either side of the five stretched
fading vistas of babes and grown-ups. Dora was clever, Daisy good-
natured, fat, dull and bow-legged, Zoë fat only, Sam and Bill rough,
stupid and friendly. Finally there were Cyril and Eva Tompkins—
twins; Baptists: a spiteful couple who vied with the Kings in mocking
me.
To sum up. On the whole, despite Joe Jones, the boys were kinder
than the girls; a first impression which life, in the lump, has borne
out; and on the whole, despite the Tompkinses, the Chapel League
was the nicer of the two; the brainier also, despite the Boldero boys,
and Johnny Blackmore, who was the shining intellect of the
Establishment. Though I have no longer the faintest hostility to the
Anglican Communion, I find inside me a dim ineradicable notion of
some moral superiority, some higher worth, however slight, which I
concede to the Nonconformists; and I trace it back to my first
experience of the two. If I bow my head in reverent humility before
the Dissenters of England, I know that the real reason is because
Laurie and Marcus and the happy Bolderos were such, while Joe and
Lena and the Kings and the Princes—Beware of Kings! Put not your
trust in Princes!—were not.
Church League and Chapel League, and I could belong to neither!
My first feeling should have been sorrow that among that score of
young souls there was not one single sure inheritor of glory; I fear it
was pride instead; in my heart I rejoiced as the Pharisee, that I was
not as other children, and that in me alone had the light shined
forth. Yet at the same moment, parallel but contradictory, I found
this question in my heart: why am I not as other children? Why
cannot I mix with them as one of them, and belong to their Leagues
and joys? After all, my right to belong to the Church League was
about as good as Marcus' Chapel pretensions: had not Grandmother
and Aunt Jael both been Churchwomen once? Or again, if Marcus,
who was at least half a Saint, was allowed to belong to the Chapel
League, then why not I, who was only half a Saint more? I had for a
moment a rebellious notion of forming a new League of my own, a
Saints' League, a Plymouth League, a League of the Elect; but
reflection soon showed me that one member was barely enough.
Could I convert others though? The notion warmed my heart, the
more luxuriously because though at root ambitious, it seemed so
virtuous and noble. Missionary zeal would further personal ambition.
In testifying to the Lord, I would raise up unto Him followers who
should be my followers too; forming at one and the same time the
Lord's League and my League. There burned together in me for a
queer exalted moment the red flame of ambition and the pure white
fire of faith; burning together in Mary as in Mahomet; as in the souls
of the great captains of religion. The fires died down; till there
burned within me just the candle flicker of this humble hope: that
the morrow's meeting would suffer me to join the Lawn at all, as the
lowliest novice in whichever League would take me.
Next day after tea, I watched from afar the deliberations of the
assembly that was handling my fate.
Some one shouted my name; I approached and appeared before the
tribe. On the wall that surmounted the mound of justice sat Joseph
Jones, surrounded by his earls and churls. I observed his pimples,
his ginger hair, his fish-like bulging eyes.
"Come here. Stand straight. Look at me."
I obeyed. He faced me. The tribe surrounded me.
"Your name?"
"Mary Lee."
"You're allowed now to come out and play on the Lawn?"
"Yes."
"You can't just play and do as you like, you know. There are Laws of
the Lawn. And there are two Leagues, and you must belong to one
of them."
This sounded encouraging; he was not going to stand in my way
after all.
"I know," I said. "Which shall I belong to?"
"We'll see. Let me see, which are you, Church or Chapel?" He was
too dull to conceal the wolf in the sheep-like blandness of his voice.
Well, I would fight for my footing.
"Neither. You know that."
"Neither?" incredulously. "How do you mean?"
"I belong to the Brethren, the Saints. That's neither Church nor
Chapel."
"Well then, you can't belong to the Church League or the Chapel
League, can you, if you aren't either? Of course you can't. We're
sorry, but you can't belong to the Lawn at all. Still" (generously)
"we'll let you walk about." He dismissed me with a nod. I did not
move.
"But—"
"Now shut up. No damned chatter. You should belong to a decent
religion."
"It is a decent religion," I cried. "Don't you talk so; it is my
Grandmother's. 'Tis as good as any of yours, and a lot better. And
'tis not a good enough reason for keeping me out."
The Lord of the Lawn was not accustomed to being addressed thus.
He darkened—or rather flushed; gingerheads cannot darken.
"If you want another reason, 'tis because you are a dirty little tell-
tale sneak."
"Hear, hear! Sneak, Sneak!" Chorus of Kings and Princes.
"I'm not a sneak. I'm not a sneak, and I don't want to belong to
your miserable Lawn. I'm a Saint anyway, and better than you
churches and chapels."
I turned and moved away. "Saint, Saint, look at the Saint! The
sneaking Saint, the saintly sneak. The Brethering kid. Plymouth
Brethering, good old Plymouth Rocks. Three cheers for the Plymouth
Rocks!" Church and Dissent mingled in this hostile chorus that
pursued me to our gate.
"Look at the corduroy skirt, he, he, he!—just like workman's
trousers," was the last thing I heard. My cheeks burned with rage
and shame.
I ran up to the attic to sob and mope in peace. I was Hagar once
again, turned out into the wilderness alone. Every child's hand was
against me. I sobbed away, until at last the luxury of extreme grief
brought its comfort. Mine was the chief sorrow under the heavens, it
was unique in its injustice; I was the unhappiest little girl in all the
world. I regained a measure of happiness.
After this experience, I went out on to the Lawn as little as possible;
which achieved the result of Aunt Jael driving me there.
I could take no part in games, but after a while I became a kind of
furtive hanger-on in the outskirts at the frequent "Meetings" of the
Lawn, at which the division into Leagues did not usually persist. I
only dared approach the company when Joe Jones was absent,
which, however, inclined to be more and more usual as he became
absorbed in gay adult adventures in the world outside the Lawn
gates. The moment Joe was gone, and Laurie Prideaux had stepped
without question into the shoes of leadership, the bullies who, under
Joe's encouraging eye, would have driven me off, were silent and
left me alone, obeying with slavish care the whim of the new
Autocrat. So I stood away, just a little outside the ring of children,
and listened.
Under Laurie's influence, the meetings were more concerned with
affairs of universal moment and abstract truth than with the
intrigues and vendettas so dear to Joseph Jones. Is the moon bigger
than the sun? How far away are the stars? Does it really hurt the
jelly-fish like the big yellow ones you see at Ilfracombe and Croyde,
if you cut them in two with your spade? Do fish feel pain? Is the
donkey the same as an ass, or is ass the female of donkey? What is
the earliest date in the year you can have raspberries in the garden,
or thrush's—or black-bird's—or cuckoo's eggs out in the country?
What is the farthest a cricket-ball has ever been thrown? and will
there be a war between England and the French Empire? With any
insoluble question, i. e. a question to which nobody brought an
answer which the meeting regarded as final, the procedure adopted
was for every one present to refer it to his or her father or mother,
and to report the result at the next meeting. Much valuable
information was gleaned by this means. The final decision was by a
majority of votes. Then if five parents said the moon was bigger
than the sun, and only four that the sun was bigger than the moon,
then the moon was bigger than the sun. Voting was by parents.
Thus the Bolderos counted as one vote only; which was not unjust,
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