Adela Cathcart, Volume 1
MacDonald, George, 1824-1905
English
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Below is a summary of Adela Cathcart, Volume 1
ADELA CATHCART
Volume I.
BY
GEORGE MACDONALD M.A.
Me list not of the chaf ne of the stre
Maken so long a tale as of the corn.
CHAUCER.--_Man of Lawes Tale_.
ADELA CATHCART
Originally published in 1864
With appreciation to Mrs. Morag Black for the master copies of Volumes
II and III, to the Bodleian Library for the photo-copies of Volume I,
and to Miss Tracy Samuel for type-copying Volumes I, II, and III for
this Edition.
To John Rutherfurd Russell M.D.
This book is affectionately dedicated by the author.
Contents of the First Volume
Chapter
I CHRISTMAS EVE
II CHURCH
III THE CHRISTMAS DINNER
IV THE NEW DOCTOR
V THE LIGHT PRINCESS
VI THE BELL
VII THE SCHOOLMASTER'S STORY
ADELA CATHCART.
Chapter I.
Christmas Eve.
It was the afternoon of Christmas Eve, sinking towards the night. All
day long the wintry light had been diluted with fog, and now the
vanguard of the darkness coming to aid the mist, the dying day was
well nigh smothered between them. When I looked through the window, it
was into a vague and dim solidification of space, a mysterious region
in which awful things might be going on, and out of which anything
might come; but out of which nothing came in the meantime, except
small sparkles of snow, or rather ice, which as we swept rapidly
onwards, and the darkness deepened, struck faster and faster against
the weather-windows. For we, that is, myself and a fellow-passenger,
of whom I knew nothing yet but the waistcoat and neckcloth, having
caught a glimpse of them as he searched for an obstinate
railway-ticket, were in a railway-carriage, darting along, at an all
but frightful rate, northwards from London.
Being, the sole occupants of the carriage, we had made the most of it,
like Englishmen, by taking seats diagonally opposite to each other,
laying our heads in the corners, and trying to go to sleep. But for me
it was of no use to try any longer. Not that I had anything particular
on my mind or spirits; but a man cannot always go to sleep at spare
moments. If anyone can, let him consider it a great gift, and make
good use of it accordingly; that is, by going to sleep on every such
opportunity.
As I, however, could not sleep, much as I should have enjoyed it, I
proceeded to occupy my very spare time with building, up what I may
call a conjectural mould, into which the face, dress, carriage, &c.,
of my companion would fit. I had already discovered that he was a
clergyman; but this added to my difficulties in constructing the said
mould. For, theoretically, I had a great dislike to clergymen; having,
hitherto, always found that the _clergy_ absorbed the _man_; and that
the _cloth_, as they called it even themselves, would be no bad
epithet for the individual, as well as the class. For all clergymen
whom I had yet met, regarded mankind and their interests solely from
the clerical point of view, seeming far more desirous that a man
should be a good church man, as they called it, than that he should
love God. Hence, there was always an indescribable and, to me,
unpleasant odour of their profession about them. If they knew more
concerning the _life_ of the world than other men, why should
everything they said remind one of mustiness and mildew? In a word,
why were they not men at worst, when at best they ought to be more of
men than other men?--And here lay the difficulty: by no effort could I
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