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diff --git a/old/1269-h/1269-h.htm b/old/1269-h/1269-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..307a72b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1269-h/1269-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11330 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Soul of a Bishop, by H. G. Wells + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Soul of a Bishop, by H. G. Wells + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Soul of a Bishop + +Author: H. G. Wells + +Release Date: February 18, 2006 [EBook #1269] +Last Updated: March 2, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUL OF A BISHOP *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE SOUL OF A BISHOP + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By H. G. Wells + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>THE SOUL OF A BISHOP</b></big> </a> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER THE FIRST </a> + </td> + <td> + THE DREAM + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER THE SECOND</a> + </td> + <td> + THE WEAR AND TEAR OF EPISCOPACY + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER THE THIRD</a> + </td> + <td> + INSOMNIA + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER THE FOURTH</a> + </td> + <td> + THE SYMPATHY OF LADY SUNDERBUND + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER THE FIFTH</a> + </td> + <td> + THE FIRST VISION + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER THE SIXTH</a> + </td> + <td> + EXEGETICAL + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER THE SEVENTH </a> + </td> + <td> + THE SECOND VISION + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER THE EIGHTH</a> + </td> + <td> + THE NEW WORLD + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER THE NINTH</a> + </td> + <td> + THE THIRD VISION + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SOUL OF A BISHOP + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THE FIRST - THE DREAM + </h2> + <h3> + (1) + </h3> + <p> + IT was a scene of bitter disputation. A hawk-nosed young man with a + pointing finger was prominent. His face worked violently, his lips moved + very rapidly, but what he said was inaudible. + </p> + <p> + Behind him the little rufous man with the big eyes twitched at his robe + and offered suggestions. + </p> + <p> + And behind these two clustered a great multitude of heated, excited, + swarthy faces.... + </p> + <p> + The emperor sat on his golden throne in the midst of the gathering, + commanding silence by gestures, speaking inaudibly to them in a tongue the + majority did not use, and then prevailing. They ceased their + interruptions, and the old man, Arius, took up the debate. For a time all + those impassioned faces were intent upon him; they listened as though they + sought occasion, and suddenly as if by a preconcerted arrangement they + were all thrusting their fingers into their ears and knitting their brows + in assumed horror; some were crying aloud and making as if to fly. Some + indeed tucked up their garments and fled. They spread out into a pattern. + They were like the little monks who run from St. Jerome's lion in the + picture by Carpaccio. Then one zealot rushed forward and smote the old man + heavily upon the mouth.... + </p> + <p> + The hall seemed to grow vaster and vaster, the disputing, infuriated + figures multiplied to an innumerable assembly, they drove about like + snowflakes in a gale, they whirled in argumentative couples, they spun in + eddies of contradiction, they made extraordinary patterns, and then amidst + the cloudy darkness of the unfathomable dome above them there appeared and + increased a radiant triangle in which shone an eye. The eye and the + triangle filled the heavens, sent out flickering rays, glowed to a + blinding incandescence, seemed to be speaking words of thunder that were + nevertheless inaudible. It was as if that thunder filled the heavens, it + was as if it were nothing but the beating artery in the sleeper's ear. The + attention strained to hear and comprehend, and on the very verge of + comprehension snapped like a fiddle-string. + </p> + <p> + “Nicoea!” + </p> + <p> + The word remained like a little ash after a flare. + </p> + <p> + The sleeper had awakened and lay very still, oppressed by a sense of + intellectual effort that had survived the dream in which it had arisen. + Was it so that things had happened? The slumber-shadowed mind, moving + obscurely, could not determine whether it was so or not. Had they indeed + behaved in this manner when the great mystery was established? Who said + they stopped their ears with their fingers and fled, shouting with horror? + Shouting? Was it Eusebius or Athanasius? Or Sozomen.... Some letter or + apology by Athanasius?... And surely it was impossible that the Trinity + could have appeared visibly as a triangle and an eye. Above such an + assembly. + </p> + <p> + That was mere dreaming, of course. Was it dreaming after Raphael? After + Raphael? The drowsy mind wandered into a side issue. Was the picture that + had suggested this dream the one in the Vatican where all the Fathers of + the Church are shown disputing together? But there surely God and the Son + themselves were painted with a symbol—some symbol—also? But + was that disputation about the Trinity at all? Wasn't it rather about a + chalice and a dove? Of course it was a chalice and a dove! Then where did + one see the triangle and the eye? And men disputing? Some such picture + there was.... + </p> + <p> + What a lot of disputing there had been! What endless disputing! Which had + gone on. Until last night. When this very disagreeable young man with the + hawk nose and the pointing finger had tackled one when one was sorely + fagged, and disputed; disputed. Rebuked and disputed. “Answer me this,” he + had said.... And still one's poor brains disputed and would not rest.... + About the Trinity.... + </p> + <p> + The brain upon the pillow was now wearily awake. It was at once hopelessly + awake and active and hopelessly unprogressive. It was like some floating + stick that had got caught in an eddy in a river, going round and round and + round. And round. Eternally—eternally—eternally begotten. + </p> + <p> + “But what possible meaning do you attach then to such a phrase as + eternally begotten?” + </p> + <p> + The brain upon the pillow stared hopelessly at this question, without an + answer, without an escape. The three repetitions spun round and round, + became a swiftly revolving triangle, like some electric sign that had got + beyond control, in the midst of which stared an unwinking and resentful + eye. + </p> + <p> + (2) + </p> + <p> + Every one knows that expedient of the sleepless, the counting of sheep. + </p> + <p> + You lie quite still, you breathe regularly, you imagine sheep jumping over + a gate, one after another, you count them quietly and slowly until you + count yourself off through a fading string of phantom numbers to number + Nod.... + </p> + <p> + But sheep, alas! suggest an episcopal crook. + </p> + <p> + And presently a black sheep had got into the succession and was struggling + violently with the crook about its leg, a hawk-nosed black sheep full of + reproof, with disordered hair and a pointing finger. A young man with a + most disagreeable voice. + </p> + <p> + At which the other sheep took heart and, deserting the numbered + succession, came and sat about the fire in a big drawing-room and argued + also. In particular there was Lady Sunderbund, a pretty fragile tall woman + in the corner, richly jewelled, who sat with her pretty eyes watching and + her lips compressed. What had she thought of it? She had said very little. + </p> + <p> + It is an unusual thing for a mixed gathering of this sort to argue about + the Trinity. Simply because a tired bishop had fallen into their party. It + was not fair to him to pretend that the atmosphere was a liberal and + inquiring one, when the young man who had sat still and dormant by the + table was in reality a keen and bitter Irish Roman Catholic. Then the + question, a question-begging question, was put quite suddenly, without + preparation or prelude, by surprise. “Why, Bishop, was the Spermaticos + Logos identified with the Second and not the Third Person of the Trinity?” + </p> + <p> + It was indiscreet, it was silly, to turn upon the speaker and affect an + air of disengagement and modernity and to say: “Ah, that indeed is the + unfortunate aspect of the whole affair.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the fierce young man had exploded with: “To that, is it, that + you Anglicans have come?” + </p> + <p> + The whole gathering had given itself up to the disputation, Lady + Sunderbund, an actress, a dancer—though she, it is true, did not say + very much—a novelist, a mechanical expert of some sort, a railway + peer, geniuses, hairy and Celtic, people of no clearly definable position, + but all quite unequal to the task of maintaining that air of reverent + vagueness, that tenderness of touch, which is by all Anglican standards + imperative in so deep, so mysterious, and, nowadays, in mixed society at + least, so infrequent a discussion. + </p> + <p> + It was like animals breaking down a fence about some sacred spot. Within a + couple of minutes the affair had become highly improper. They had raised + their voices, they had spoken with the utmost familiarity of almost + unspeakable things. There had been even attempts at epigram. Athanasian + epigrams. Bent the novelist had doubted if originally there had been a + Third Person in the Trinity at all. He suggested a reaction from a + too-Manichaean dualism at some date after the time of St. John's Gospel. + He maintained obstinately that that Gospel was dualistic. + </p> + <p> + The unpleasant quality of the talk was far more manifest in the retrospect + than it had been at the time. It had seemed then bold and strange, but not + impossible; now in the cold darkness it seemed sacrilegious. And the + bishop's share, which was indeed only the weak yielding of a tired man to + an atmosphere he had misjudged, became a disgraceful display of levity and + bad faith. They had baited him. Some one had said that nowadays every one + was an Arian, knowingly or unknowingly. They had not concealed their + conviction that the bishop did not really believe in the Creeds he + uttered. + </p> + <p> + And that unfortunate first admission stuck terribly in his throat. + </p> + <p> + Oh! Why had he made it? + </p> + <p> + (3) + </p> + <p> + Sleep had gone. + </p> + <p> + The awakened sleeper groaned, sat up in the darkness, and felt gropingly + in this unaccustomed bed and bedroom first for the edge of the bed and + then for the electric light that was possibly on the little bedside table. + </p> + <p> + The searching hand touched something. A water-bottle. The hand resumed its + exploration. Here was something metallic and smooth, a stem. Either above + or below there must be a switch.... + </p> + <p> + The switch was found, grasped, and turned. + </p> + <p> + The darkness fled. + </p> + <p> + In a mirror the sleeper saw the reflection of his face and a corner of the + bed in which he lay. The lamp had a tilted shade that threw a slanting bar + of shadow across the field of reflection, lighting a right-angled triangle + very brightly and leaving the rest obscure. The bed was a very great one, + a bed for the Anakim. It had a canopy with yellow silk curtains, + surmounted by a gilded crown of carved wood. Between the curtains was a + man's face, clean-shaven, pale, with disordered brown hair and weary, + pale-blue eyes. He was clad in purple pyjamas, and the hand that now ran + its fingers through the brown hair was long and lean and shapely. + </p> + <p> + Beside the bed was a convenient little table bearing the light, a + water-bottle and glass, a bunch of keys, a congested pocket-book, a + gold-banded fountain pen, and a gold watch that indicated a quarter past + three. On the lower edge of the picture in the mirror appeared the back of + a gilt chair, over which a garment of peculiar construction had been + carelessly thrown. It was in the form of that sleeveless cassock of + purple, opening at the side, whose lower flap is called a bishop's apron; + the corner of the frogged coat showed behind the chair-back, and the sash + lay crumpled on the floor. Black doeskin breeches, still warmly lined with + their pants, lay where they had been thrust off at the corner of the bed, + partly covering black hose and silver-buckled shoes. + </p> + <p> + For a moment the tired gaze of the man in the bed rested upon these + evidences of his episcopal dignity. Then he turned from them to the watch + at the bedside. + </p> + <p> + He groaned helplessly. + </p> + <p> + (4) + </p> + <p> + These country doctors were no good. There wasn't a physician in the + diocese. He must go to London. + </p> + <p> + He looked into the weary eyes of his reflection and said, as one makes a + reassuring promise, “London.” + </p> + <p> + He was being worried. He was being intolerably worried, and he was ill and + unable to sustain his positions. This doubt, this sudden discovery of + controversial unsoundness, was only one aspect of his general + neurasthenia. It had been creeping into his mind since the “Light Unden + the Altar” controversy. Now suddenly it had leapt upon him from his own + unwary lips. + </p> + <p> + The immediate trouble arose from his loyalty. He had followed the King's + example; he had become a total abstainer and, in addition, on his own + account he had ceased to smoke. And his digestion, which Princhester had + first made sensitive, was deranged. He was suffering chemically, suffering + one of those nameless sequences of maladjustments that still defy our + ordinary medical science. It was afflicting him with a general malaise, it + was affecting his energy, his temper, all the balance and comfort of his + nerves. All day he was weary; all night he was wakeful. He was estranged + from his body. He was distressed by a sense of detachment from the things + about him, by a curious intimation of unreality in everything he + experienced. And with that went this levity of conscience, a heaviness of + soul and a levity of conscience, that could make him talk as though the + Creeds did not matter—as though nothing mattered.... + </p> + <p> + If only he could smoke! + </p> + <p> + He was persuaded that a couple of Egyptian cigarettes, or three at the + outside, a day, would do wonders in restoring his nervous calm. That, and + just a weak whisky and soda at lunch and dinner. Suppose now—! + </p> + <p> + His conscience, his sense of honour, deserted him. Latterly he had had + several of these conscience-blanks; it was only when they were over that + he realized that they had occurred. + </p> + <p> + One might smoke up the chimney, he reflected. But he had no cigarettes! + Perhaps if he were to slip downstairs.... + </p> + <p> + Why had he given up smoking? + </p> + <p> + He groaned aloud. He and his reflection eyed one another in mutual + despair. + </p> + <p> + There came before his memory the image of a boy's face, a swarthy little + boy, grinning, grinning with a horrible knowingness and pointing his + finger—an accusing finger. It had been the most exasperating, + humiliating, and shameful incident in the bishop's career. It was the + afternoon for his fortnightly address to the Shop-girls' Church + Association, and he had been seized with a panic fear, entirely irrational + and unjustifiable, that he would not be able to deliver the address. The + fear had arisen after lunch, had gripped his mind, and then as now had + come the thought, “If only I could smoke!” And he had smoked. It seemed + better to break a vow than fail the Association. He had fallen to the + temptation with a completeness that now filled him with shame and horror. + He had stalked Dunk, his valet-butler, out of the dining-room, had + affected to need a book from the book-case beyond the sideboard, had gone + insincerely to the sideboard humming “From Greenland's icy mountains,” and + then, glancing over his shoulder, had stolen one of his own cigarettes, + one of the fatter sort. With this and his bedroom matches he had gone off + to the bottom of the garden among the laurels, looked everywhere except + above the wall to be sure that he was alone, and at last lit up, only as + he raised his eyes in gratitude for the first blissful inhalation to + discover that dreadful little boy peeping at him from the crotch in the + yew-tree in the next garden. As though God had sent him to be a witness! + </p> + <p> + Their eyes had met. The bishop recalled with an agonized distinctness + every moment, every error, of that shameful encounter. He had been too + surprised to conceal the state of affairs from the pitiless scrutiny of + those youthful eyes. He had instantly made as if to put the cigarette + behind his back, and then as frankly dropped it.... + </p> + <p> + His soul would not be more naked at the resurrection. The little boy had + stared, realized the state of affairs slowly but surely, pointed his + finger.... + </p> + <p> + Never had two human beings understood each other more completely. + </p> + <p> + A dirty little boy! Capable no doubt of a thousand kindred scoundrelisms. + </p> + <p> + It seemed ages before the conscience-stricken bishop could tear himself + from the spot and walk back, with such a pretence of dignity as he could + muster, to the house. + </p> + <p> + And instead of the discourse he had prepared for the Shop-girls' Church + Association, he had preached on temptation and falling, and how he knew + they had all fallen, and how he understood and could sympathize with the + bitterness of a secret shame, a moving but unsuitable discourse that had + already been subjected to misconstruction and severe reproof in the local + press of Princhester. + </p> + <p> + But the haunting thing in the bishop's memory was the face and gesture of + the little boy. That grubby little finger stabbed him to the heart. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, God!” he groaned. “The meanness of it! How did I bring myself—?” + </p> + <p> + He turned out the light convulsively, and rolled over in the bed, making a + sort of cocoon of himself. He bored his head into the pillow and groaned, + and then struggled impatiently to throw the bed-clothes off himself. Then + he sat up and talked aloud. + </p> + <p> + “I must go to Brighton-Pomfrey,” he said. “And get a medical dispensation. + If I do not smoke—” + </p> + <p> + He paused for a long time. + </p> + <p> + Then his voice sounded again in the darkness, speaking quietly, speaking + with a note almost of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “I shall go mad. I must smoke or I shall go mad.” + </p> + <p> + For a long time he sat up in the great bed with his arms about his knees. + </p> + <p> + (5) + </p> + <p> + Fearful things came to him; things at once dreadfully blasphemous and + entirely weak-minded. + </p> + <p> + The triangle and the eye became almost visible upon the black background + of night. They were very angry. They were spinning round and round faster + and faster. Because he was a bishop and because really he did not believe + fully and completely in the Trinity. At one and the same time he did not + believe in the Trinity and was terrified by the anger of the Trinity at + his unbelief.... He was afraid. He was aghast.... And oh! he was weary.... + </p> + <p> + He rubbed his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “If I could have a cup of tea!” he said. + </p> + <p> + Then he perceived with surprise that he had not thought of praying. What + should he say? To what could he pray? + </p> + <p> + He tried not to think of that whizzing Triangle, that seemed now to be + nailed like a Catherine wheel to the very centre of his forehead, and yet + at the same time to be at the apex of the universe. Against that—for + protection against that—he was praying. It was by a great effort + that at last he pronounced the words: + </p> + <p> + “Lighten our darkness, we beseech Thee, O Lord ....” + </p> + <p> + Presently he had turned up his light, and was prowling about the room. The + clear inky dinginess that comes before the raw dawn of a spring morning, + found his white face at the window, looking out upon the great terrace and + the park. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THE SECOND - THE WEAR AND TEAR OF EPISCOPACY + </h2> + <h3> + (1) + </h3> + <p> + IT was only in the last few years that the bishop had experienced these + nervous and mental crises. He was a belated doubter. Whatever questionings + had marked his intellectual adolescence had either been very slight or had + been too adequately answered to leave any serious scars upon his + convictions. + </p> + <p> + And even now he felt that he was afflicted physically rather than + mentally, that some protective padding of nerve-sheath or brain-case had + worn thin and weak, and left him a prey to strange disturbances, rather + than that any new process of thought was eating into his mind. These + doubts in his mind were still not really doubts; they were rather alien + and, for the first time, uncontrolled movements of his intelligence. He + had had a sheltered upbringing; he was the well-connected son of a + comfortable rectory, the only son and sole survivor of a family of three; + he had been carefully instructed and he had been a willing learner; it had + been easy and natural to take many things for granted. It had been very + easy and pleasant for him to take the world as he found it and God as he + found Him. Indeed for all his years up to manhood he had been able to take + life exactly as in his infancy he took his carefully warmed and prepared + bottle—unquestioningly and beneficially. + </p> + <p> + And indeed that has been the way with most bishops since bishops began. + </p> + <p> + It is a busy continuous process that turns boys into bishops, and it will + stand few jars or discords. The student of ecclesiastical biography will + find that an early vocation has in every age been almost universal among + them; few are there among these lives that do not display the incipient + bishop from the tenderest years. Bishop How of Wakefield composed hymns + before he was eleven, and Archbishop Benson when scarcely older possessed + a little oratory in which he conducted services and—a pleasant touch + of the more secular boy—which he protected from a too inquisitive + sister by means of a booby trap. It is rare that those marked for + episcopal dignities go so far into the outer world as Archbishop Lang of + York, who began as a barrister. This early predestination has always been + the common episcopal experience. Archbishop Benson's early attempts at + religious services remind one both of St. Thomas a Becket, the “boy + bishop,” and those early ceremonies of St. Athanasius which were observed + and inquired upon by the good bishop Alexander. (For though still a tender + infant, St. Athanasius with perfect correctness and validity was baptizing + a number of his innocent playmates, and the bishop who “had paused to + contemplate the sports of the child remained to confirm the zeal of the + missionary.”) And as with the bishop of the past, so with the bishop of + the future; the Rev. H. J. Campbell, in his story of his soul's + pilgrimage, has given us a pleasant picture of himself as a child stealing + out into the woods to build himself a little altar. + </p> + <p> + Such minds as these, settled as it were from the outset, are either + incapable of real scepticism or become sceptical only after catastrophic + changes. They understand the sceptical mind with difficulty, and their + beliefs are regarded by the sceptical mind with incredulity. They have + determined their forms of belief before their years of discretion, and + once those forms are determined they are not very easily changed. Within + the shell it has adopted the intelligence may be active and lively enough, + may indeed be extraordinarily active and lively, but only within the + shell. + </p> + <p> + There is an entire difference in the mental quality of those who are + converts to a faith and those who are brought up in it. The former know it + from outside as well as from within. They know not only that it is, but + also that it is not. The latter have a confidence in their creed that is + one with their apprehension of sky or air or gravitation. It is a primary + mental structure, and they not only do not doubt but they doubt the good + faith of those who do. They think that the Atheist and Agnostic really + believe but are impelled by a mysterious obstinacy to deny. So it had been + with the Bishop of Princhester; not of cunning or design but in simple + good faith he had accepted all the inherited assurances of his native + rectory, and held by Church, Crown, Empire, decorum, respectability, + solvency—and compulsory Greek at the Little Go—as his father + had done before him. If in his undergraduate days he had said a thing or + two in the modern vein, affected the socialism of William Morris and + learnt some Swinburne by heart, it was out of a conscious wildness. He did + not wish to be a prig. He had taken a far more genuine interest in the + artistry of ritual. + </p> + <p> + Through all the time of his incumbency of the church of the Holy + Innocents, St. John's Wood, and of his career as the bishop suffragan of + Pinner, he had never faltered from his profound confidence in those + standards of his home. He had been kind, popular, and endlessly active. + His undergraduate socialism had expanded simply and sincerely into a + theory of administrative philanthropy. He knew the Webbs. He was as + successful with working-class audiences as with fashionable congregations. + His home life with Lady Ella (she was the daughter of the fifth Earl of + Birkenholme) and his five little girls was simple, beautiful, and happy as + few homes are in these days of confusion. Until he became Bishop of + Princhester—he followed Hood, the first bishop, as the reign of his + Majesty King Edward the Peacemaker drew to its close—no anticipation + of his coming distress fell across his path. + </p> + <p> + (2) + </p> + <p> + He came to Princhester an innocent and trustful man. The home life at the + old rectory of Otteringham was still his standard of truth and reality. + London had not disillusioned him. It was a strange waste of people, it + made him feel like a missionary in infidel parts, but it was a kindly + waste. It was neither antagonistic nor malicious. He had always felt there + that if he searched his Londoner to the bottom, he would find the + completest recognition of the old rectory and all its data and + implications. + </p> + <p> + But Princhester was different. + </p> + <p> + Princhester made one think that recently there had been a second and much + more serious Fall. + </p> + <p> + Princhester was industrial and unashamed. It was a countryside savagely + invaded by forges and mine shafts and gaunt black things. It was scarred + and impeded and discoloured. Even before that invasion, when the heather + was not in flower it must have been a black country. Its people were dour + uncandid individuals, who slanted their heads and knitted their brows to + look at you. Occasionally one saw woods brown and blistered by the gases + from chemical works. Here and there remained old rectories, closely + reminiscent of the dear old home at Otteringham, jostled and elbowed and + overshadowed by horrible iron cylinders belching smoke and flame. The fine + old abbey church of Princhester, which was the cathedral of the new + diocese, looked when first he saw it like a lady Abbess who had taken to + drink and slept in a coal truck. She minced apologetically upon the + market-place; the parvenu Town Hall patronized and protected her as if she + were a poor relation.... + </p> + <p> + The old aristocracy of the countryside was unpicturesquely decayed. The + branch of the Walshinghams, Lady Ella's cousins, who lived near Pringle, + was poor, proud and ignoble. And extremely unpopular. The rich people of + the country were self-made and inclined to nonconformity, the + working-people were not strictly speaking a “poor,” they were highly paid, + badly housed, and deeply resentful. They went in vast droves to football + matches, and did not care a rap if it rained. The prevailing wind was + sarcastic. To come here from London was to come from atmospheric + blue-greys to ashen-greys, from smoke and soft smut to grime and black + grimness. + </p> + <p> + The bishop had been charmed by the historical associations of Princhester + when first the see was put before his mind. His realization of his diocese + was a profound shock. + </p> + <p> + Only one hint had he had of what was coming. He had met during his season + of congratulations Lord Gatling dining unusually at the Athenaeum. Lord + Gatling and he did not talk frequently, but on this occasion the great + racing peer came over to him. “You will feel like a cherub in a + stokehole,” Lord Gatling had said.... + </p> + <p> + “They used to heave lumps of slag at old Hood's gaiters,” said Lord + Gatling. + </p> + <p> + “In London a bishop's a lord and a lark and nobody minds him,” said Lord + Gatling, “but Princhester is different. It isn't used to bishops.... Well,—I + hope you'll get to like 'em.” + </p> + <p> + (3) + </p> + <p> + Trouble began with a fearful row about the position of the bishop's + palace. Hood had always evaded this question, and a number of + strong-willed self-made men of wealth and influence, full of local + patriotism and that competitive spirit which has made England what it is, + already intensely irritated by Hood's prevarications, were resolved to pin + his successor to an immediate decision. Of this the new bishop was + unaware. Mindful of a bishop's constant need to travel, he was disposed to + seek a home within easy reach of Pringle Junction, from which nearly every + point in the diocese could be simply and easily reached. This fell in with + Lady Ella's liking for the rare rural quiet of the Kibe valley and the + neighbourhood of her cousins the Walshinghams. Unhappily it did not fall + in with the inflexible resolution of each and every one of the six leading + towns of the see to put up, own, obtrude, boast, and swagger about the + biggest and showiest thing in episcopal palaces in all industrial England, + and the new bishop had already taken a short lease and gone some way + towards the acquisition of Ganford House, two miles from Pringle, before + he realized the strength and fury of these local ambitions. + </p> + <p> + At first the magnates and influences seemed to be fighting only among + themselves, and he was so ill-advised as to broach the Ganford House + project as a compromise that would glorify no one unfairly, and leave the + erection of an episcopal palace for some future date when he perhaps would + have the good fortune to have passed to “where beyond these voices there + is peace,” forgetting altogether among other oversights the importance of + architects and builders in local affairs. His proposal seemed for a time + to concentrate the rich passions of the whole countryside upon himself and + his wife. + </p> + <p> + Because they did not leave Lady Ella alone. The Walshinghams were already + unpopular in their county on account of a poverty and shyness that made + them seem “stuck up” to successful captains of industry only too ready + with the hand of friendship, the iron grip indeed of friendship, + consciously hospitable and eager for admission and endorsements. And + Princhester in particular was under the sway of that enterprising weekly, + The White Blackbird, which was illustrated by, which indeed monopolized + the gifts of, that brilliant young caricaturist “The Snicker.” + </p> + <p> + It had seemed natural for Lady Ella to acquiesce in the proposals of the + leading Princhester photographer. She had always helped where she could in + her husband's public work, and she had been popular upon her own merits in + Wealdstone. The portrait was abominable enough in itself; it dwelt on her + chin, doubled her age, and denied her gentleness, but it was a mere + starting-point for the subtle extravagance of The Snicker's poisonous + gift.... The thing came upon the bishop suddenly from the book-stall at + Pringle Junction. + </p> + <p> + He kept it carefully from Lady Ella.... It was only later that he found + that a copy of The White Blackbird had been sent to her, and that she was + keeping the horror from him. It was in her vein that she should reproach + herself for being a vulnerable side to him. + </p> + <p> + Even when the bishop capitulated in favour of Princhester, that decision + only opened a fresh trouble for him. Princhester wanted the palace to be a + palace; it wanted to combine all the best points of Lambeth and Fulham + with the marble splendours of a good modern bank. The bishop's + architectural tastes, on the other hand, were rationalistic. He was all + for building a useful palace in undertones, with a green slate roof and + long horizontal lines. What he wanted more than anything else was a quite + remote wing with a lot of bright little bedrooms and a sitting-room and so + on, complete in itself, examination hall and everything, with a long + intricate connecting passage and several doors, to prevent the ordination + candidates straying all over the place and getting into the talk and the + tea. But the diocese wanted a proud archway—and turrets, and did not + care a rap if the ordination candidates slept about on the carpets in the + bishop's bedroom. Ordination candidates were quite outside the sphere of + its imagination. + </p> + <p> + And he disappointed Princhester with his equipage. Princhester had a + feeling that it deserved more for coming over to the church from + nonconformity as it was doing. It wanted a bishop in a mitre and a gilt + coach. It wanted a pastoral crook. It wanted something to go with its mace + and its mayor. And (obsessed by The Snicker) it wanted less of Lady Ella. + The cruelty and unreason of these attacks upon his wife distressed the + bishop beyond measure, and baffled him hopelessly. He could not see any + means of checking them nor of defending or justifying her against them. + </p> + <p> + The palace was awaiting its tenant, but the controversies and bitternesses + were still swinging and swaying and developing when King George was being + crowned. Close upon that event came a wave of social discontent, the great + railway strike, a curious sense of social and political instability, and + the first beginnings of the bishop's ill health. + </p> + <p> + (4) + </p> + <p> + There came a day of exceptional fatigue and significance. + </p> + <p> + The industrial trouble was a very real distress to the bishop. He had a + firm belief that it is a function of the church to act as mediator between + employer and employed. It was a common saying of his that the aim of + socialism—the right sort of socialism—was to Christianize + employment. Regardless of suspicion on either hand, regardless of very + distinct hints that he should “mind his own business,” he exerted himself + in a search for methods of reconciliation. He sought out every one who + seemed likely to be influential on either side, and did his utmost to + discover the conditions of a settlement. As far as possible and with the + help of a not very efficient chaplain he tried to combine such interviews + with his more normal visiting. + </p> + <p> + At times, and this was particularly the case on this day, he seemed to be + discovering nothing but the incurable perversity and militancy of human + nature. It was a day under an east wind, when a steely-blue sky full of + colourless light filled a stiff-necked world with whitish high lights and + inky shadows. These bright harsh days of barometric high pressure in + England rouse and thwart every expectation of the happiness of spring. And + as the bishop drove through the afternoon in a hired fly along a rutted + road of slag between fields that were bitterly wired against the Sunday + trespasser, he fell into a despondent meditation upon the political and + social outlook. + </p> + <p> + His thoughts were of a sort not uncommon in those days. The world was + strangely restless. Since the passing of Victoria the Great there had been + an accumulating uneasiness in the national life. It was as if some compact + and dignified paper-weight had been lifted from people's ideas, and as if + at once they had begun to blow about anyhow. Not that Queen Victoria had + really been a paper-weight or any weight at all, but it happened that she + died as an epoch closed, an epoch of tremendous stabilities. Her son, + already elderly, had followed as the selvedge follows the piece, he had + passed and left the new age stripped bare. In nearly every department of + economic and social life now there was upheaval, and it was an upheaval + very different in character from the radicalism and liberalism of the + Victorian days. There were not only doubt and denial, but now there were + also impatience and unreason. People argued less and acted quicker. There + was a pride in rebellion for its own sake, an indiscipline and disposition + to sporadic violence that made it extremely hard to negotiate any + reconciliations or compromises. Behind every extremist it seemed stood a + further extremist prepared to go one better.... + </p> + <p> + The bishop had spent most of the morning with one of the big employers, a + tall dark man, lean and nervous, and obviously tired and worried by the + struggle. He did not conceal his opinion that the church was meddling with + matters quite outside its sphere. Never had it been conveyed to the bishop + before how remote a rich and established Englishman could consider the + church from reality. + </p> + <p> + “You've got no hold on them,” he said. “It isn't your sphere.” + </p> + <p> + And again: “They'll listen to you—if you speak well. But they don't + believe you know anything about it, and they don't trust your good + intentions. They won't mind a bit what you say unless you drop something + they can use against us.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop tried a few phrases. He thought there might be something in + co-operation, in profit-sharing, in some more permanent relationship + between the business and the employee. + </p> + <p> + “There isn't,” said the employer compactly. “It's just the malice of being + inferior against the man in control. It's just the spirit of + insubordination and boredom with duty. This trouble's as old as the + Devil.” + </p> + <p> + “But that is exactly the business of the church,” said the bishop + brightly, “to reconcile men to their duty.” + </p> + <p> + “By chanting the Athanasian creed at 'em, I suppose,” said the big + employer, betraying the sneer he had been hiding hitherto. + </p> + <p> + “This thing is a fight,” said the big employer, carrying on before the + bishop could reply. “Religion had better get out of the streets until this + thing is over. The men won't listen to reason. They don't mean to. They're + bit by Syndicalism. They're setting out, I tell you, to be unreasonable + and impossible. It isn't an argument; it's a fight. They don't want to + make friends with the employer. They want to make an end to the employer. + Whatever we give them they'll take and press us for more. Directly we make + terms with the leaders the men go behind it.... It's a raid on the whole + system. They don't mean to work the system—anyhow. I'm the + capitalist, and the capitalist has to go. I'm to be bundled out of my + works, and some—some “—he seemed to be rejecting unsuitable + words—“confounded politician put in. Much good it would do them. But + before that happens I'm going to fight. You would.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop walked to the window and stood staring at the brilliant spring + bulbs in the big employer's garden, and at a long vista of newly-mown lawn + under great shapely trees just budding into green. + </p> + <p> + “I can't admit,” he said, “that these troubles lie outside the sphere of + the church.” + </p> + <p> + The employer came and stood beside him. He felt he was being a little hard + on the bishop, but he could not see any way of making things easier. + </p> + <p> + “One doesn't want Sacred Things,” he tried, “in a scrap like this. + </p> + <p> + “We've got to mend things or end things,” continued the big employer. + “Nothing goes on for ever. Things can't last as they are going on now....” + </p> + <p> + Then he went on abruptly to something that for a time he had been keeping + back. + </p> + <p> + “Of course just at present the church may do a confounded lot of harm. + Some of you clerical gentlemen are rather too fond of talking socialism + and even preaching socialism. Don't think I want to be overcritical. I + admit there's no end of things to be said for a proper sort of socialism, + Ruskin, and all that. We're all Socialists nowadays. Ideals—excellent. + But—it gets misunderstood. It gives the men a sense of moral + support. It makes them fancy that they are It. Encourages them to forget + duties and set up preposterous claims. Class war and all that sort of + thing. You gentlemen of the clergy don't quite realize that socialism may + begin with Ruskin and end with Karl Marx. And that from the Class War to + the Commune is just one step.” + </p> + <p> + (5) + </p> + <p> + From this conversation the bishop had made his way to the vicarage of + Mogham Banks. The vicar of Mogham Banks was a sacerdotal socialist of the + most advanced type, with the reputation of being closely in touch with the + labour extremists. He was a man addicted to banners, prohibited ornaments, + special services at unusual hours, and processions in the streets. His + taste in chasubles was loud, he gardened in a cassock and, it was said, he + slept in his biretta; he certainly slept in a hair shirt, and he littered + his church with flowers, candles, side altars, confessional boxes, + requests for prayers for the departed, and the like. There had already + been two Kensitite demonstrations at his services, and altogether he was a + source of considerable anxiety to the bishop. The bishop did his best not + to know too exactly what was going on at Mogham Banks. Sooner or later he + felt he would be forced to do something—and the longer he could put + that off the better. But the Rev. Morrice Deans had promised to get + together three or four prominent labour leaders for tea and a frank talk, + and the opportunity was one not to be missed. So the bishop, after a hasty + and not too digestible lunch in the refreshment room at Pringle, was now + in a fly that smelt of straw and suggested infectious hospital patients, + on his way through the industry-scarred countryside to this second + conversation. + </p> + <p> + The countryside had never seemed so scarred to him as it did that day. + </p> + <p> + It was probably the bright hard spring sunshine that emphasized the + contrast between that dear England of hedges and homes and the south-west + wind in which his imagination lived, and the crude presences of a + mechanical age. Never before had the cuttings and heapings, the smashing + down of trees, the obtrusion of corrugated iron and tar, the belchings of + smoke and the haste, seemed so harsh and disregardful of all the bishop's + world. Across the fields a line of gaunt iron standards, abominably + designed, carried an electric cable to some unknown end. The curve of the + hill made them seem a little out of the straight, as if they hurried and + bent forward furtively. + </p> + <p> + “Where are they going?” asked the bishop, leaning forward to look out of + the window of the fly, and then: “Where is it all going?” + </p> + <p> + And presently the road was under repair, and was being done at a great + pace with a huge steam-roller, mechanically smashed granite, and kettles + of stinking stuff, asphalt or something of that sort, that looked and + smelt like Milton's hell. Beyond, a gaunt hoarding advertised extensively + the Princhester Music Hall, a mean beastly place that corrupted boys and + girls; and also it clamoured of tyres and potted meats.... + </p> + <p> + The afternoon's conference gave him no reassuring answer to his question, + “Where is it all going?” + </p> + <p> + The afternoon's conference did no more than intensify the new and strange + sense of alienation from the world that the morning's talk had evoked. + </p> + <p> + The three labour extremists that Morrice Deans had assembled obviously + liked the bishop and found him picturesque, and were not above a certain + snobbish gratification at the purple-trimmed company they were in, but it + was clear that they regarded his intervention in the great dispute as if + it were a feeble waving from the bank across the waters of a great river. + </p> + <p> + “There's an incurable misunderstanding between the modern employer and the + modern employed,” the chief labour spokesman said, speaking in a broad + accent that completely hid from him and the bishop and every one the fact + that he was by far the best-read man of the party. “Disraeli called them + the Two Nations, but that was long ago. Now it's a case of two species. + Machinery has made them into different species. The employer lives away + from his work-people, marries a wife foreign, out of a county family or + suchlike, trains his children from their very birth in a different manner. + Why, the growth curve is different for the two species. They haven't even + a common speech between them. One looks east and the other looks west. How + can you expect them to agree? Of course they won't agree. We've got to + fight it out. They say we're their slaves for ever. Have you ever read + Lady Bell's 'At the Works'? A well-intentioned woman, but she gives the + whole thing away. We say, No! It's our sort and not your sort. We'll do + without you. We'll get a little more education and then we'll do without + you. We're pressing for all we can get, and when we've got that we'll take + breath and press for more. We're the Morlocks. Coming up. It isn't our + fault that we've differentiated.” + </p> + <p> + “But you haven't understood the drift of Christianity,” said the bishop. + “It's just to assert that men are One community and not two.” + </p> + <p> + “There's not much of that in the Creeds,” said a second labour leader who + was a rationalist. “There's not much of that in the services of the + church.” + </p> + <p> + The vicar spoke before his bishop, and indeed he had plenty of time to + speak before his bishop. “Because you will not set yourselves to + understand the symbolism of her ritual,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “If the church chooses to speak in riddles,” said the rationalist. + </p> + <p> + “Symbols,” said Morrice Deans, “need not be riddles,” and for a time the + talk eddied about this minor issue and the chief labour spokesman and the + bishop looked at one another. The vicar instanced and explained certain + apparently insignificant observances, his antagonist was contemptuously + polite to these explanations. “That's all very pratty,” he said.... + </p> + <p> + The bishop wished that fine points of ceremonial might have been left out + of the discussion. + </p> + <p> + Something much bigger than that was laying hold of his intelligence, the + realization of a world extravagantly out of hand. The sky, the wind, the + telegraph poles, had been jabbing in the harsh lesson of these men's + voices, that the church, as people say, “wasn't in it.” And that at the + same time the church held the one remedy for all this ugliness and + contention in its teaching of the universal fatherhood of God and the + universal brotherhood of men. Only for some reason he hadn't the phrases + and he hadn't the voice to assert this over their wrangling and their + stiff resolution. He wanted to think the whole business out thoroughly, + for the moment he had nothing to say, and there was the labour leader + opposite waiting smilingly to hear what he had to say so soon as the bout + between the vicar and the rationalist was over. + </p> + <p> + (6) + </p> + <p> + That morning in the long galleries of the bishop's imagination a fresh + painting had been added. It was a big wall painting rather in the manner + of Puvis de Chavannes. And the central figure had been the bishop of + Princhester himself. He had been standing upon the steps of the great door + of the cathedral that looks upon the marketplace where the tram-lines + meet, and he had been dressed very magnificently and rather after the + older use. He had been wearing a tunicle and dalmatic under a chasuble, a + pectoral cross, purple gloves, sandals and buskins, a mitre and his + presentation ring. In his hand he had borne his pastoral staff. And the + clustering pillars and arches of the great doorway were painted with a + loving flat particularity that omitted nothing but the sooty tinge of the + later discolourations. + </p> + <p> + On his right hand had stood a group of employers very richly dressed in + the fashion of the fifteenth century, and on the left a rather more + numerous group of less decorative artisans. With them their wives and + children had been shown, all greatly impressed by the canonicals. Every + one had been extremely respectful. + </p> + <p> + He had been reconciling the people and blessing them and calling them his + “sheep” and his “little children.” + </p> + <p> + But all this was so different. + </p> + <p> + Neither party resembled sheep or little children in the least degree. . + </p> + <p> + The labour leader became impatient with the ritualistic controversy; he + set his tea-cup aside out of danger and leant across the corner of the + table to the bishop and spoke in a sawing undertone. “You see,” he said, + “the church does not talk our language. I doubt if it understands our + language. I doubt if we understand clearly where we are ourselves. These + things have to be fought out and hammered out. It's a big dusty dirty + noisy job. It may be a bloody job before it's through. You can't suddenly + call a halt in the middle of the scrap and have a sort of millennium just + because you want it.... + </p> + <p> + “Of course if the church had a plan,” he said, “if it had a proposal to + make, if it had anything more than a few pious palliatives to suggest, + that might be different. But has it?” + </p> + <p> + The bishop had a bankrupt feeling. On the spur of the moment he could say + no more than: “It offers its mediation.” + </p> + <p> + (7) + </p> + <p> + Full as he was with the preoccupation of these things and so a little slow + and inattentive in his movements, the bishop had his usual luck at Pringle + Junction and just missed the 7.27 for Princhester. He might perhaps have + got it by running through the subway and pushing past people, but bishops + must not run through subways and push past people. His mind swore at the + mischance, even if his lips refrained. + </p> + <p> + He was hungry and, tired; he would not get to the palace now until long + after nine; dinner would be over and Lady Ella would naturally suppose he + had dined early with the Rev. Morrice Deans. Very probably there would be + nothing ready for him at all. + </p> + <p> + He tried to think he was exercising self-control, but indeed all his + sub-conscious self was busy in a manner that would not have disgraced + Tertullian with the eternal welfare of those city fathers whose obstinacy + had fixed the palace at Princhester. He walked up and down the platform, + gripping his hands very tightly behind him, and maintaining a serene + upcast countenance by a steadfast effort. It seemed a small matter to him + that the placards of the local evening papers should proclaim “Lloyd + George's Reconciliation Meeting at Wombash Broken up by Suffragettes.” For + a year now he had observed a strict rule against buying the products of + the local press, and he saw no reason for varying this protective + regulation. + </p> + <p> + His mind was full of angry helplessness. + </p> + <p> + Was he to blame, was the church to blame, for its powerlessness in these + social disputes? Could an abler man with a readier eloquence have done + more? + </p> + <p> + He envied the cleverness of Cardinal Manning. Manning would have got right + into the front of this affair. He would have accumulated credit for his + church and himself.... + </p> + <p> + But would he have done much?... + </p> + <p> + The bishop wandered along the platform to its end, and stood contemplating + the convergent ways that gather together beyond the station and plunge + into the hillside and the wilderness of sidings and trucks, signal-boxes, + huts, coal-pits, electric standards, goods sheds, turntables, and + engine-houses, that ends in a bluish bricked-up cliff against the hill. A + train rushed with a roar and clatter into the throat of the great tunnel + and was immediately silenced; its rear lights twinkled and vanished, and + then out of that huge black throat came wisps of white steam and curled + slowly upward like lazy snakes until they caught the slanting sunshine. + For the first time the day betrayed a softness and touched this scene of + black energy to gold. All late afternoons are beautiful, whatever the day + has been—if only there is a gleam of sun. And now a kind of + mechanical greatness took the place of mere black disorder in the bishop's + perception of his see. It was harsh, it was vast and strong, it was no + lamb he had to rule but a dragon. Would it ever be given to him to + overcome his dragon, to lead it home, and bless it? + </p> + <p> + He stood at the very end of the platform, with his gaitered legs wide + apart and his hands folded behind him, staring beyond all visible things. + </p> + <p> + Should he do something very bold and striking? Should he invite both men + and masters to the cathedral, and preach tremendous sermons to them upon + these living issues? + </p> + <p> + Short sermons, of course. + </p> + <p> + But stating the church's attitude with a new and convincing vigour. + </p> + <p> + He had a vision of the great aisle strangely full and alive and astir. The + organ notes still echoed in the fretted vaulting, as the preacher made his + way from the chancel to the pulpit. The congregation was tense with + expectation, and for some reason his mind dwelt for a long time upon the + figure of the preacher ascending the steps of the pulpit. Outside the day + was dark and stormy, so that the stained-glass windows looked absolutely + dead. For a little while the preacher prayed. Then in the attentive + silence the tenor of the preacher would begin, a thin jet of sound, a ray + of light in the darkness, speaking to all these men as they had never been + spoken to before.... + </p> + <p> + Surely so one might call a halt to all these harsh conflicts. So one might + lay hands afresh upon these stubborn minds, one might win them round to + look at Christ the Master and Servant.... + </p> + <p> + That, he thought, would be a good phrase: “Christ the Master and + Servant.”.... + </p> + <p> + “Members of one Body,” that should be his text.... At last it was + finished. The big congregation, which had kept so still, sighed and + stirred. The task of reconciliation was as good as done. “And now to God + the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost....” + </p> + <p> + Outside the day had become suddenly bright, the threatening storm had + drifted away, and great shafts of coloured light from the pictured windows + were smiting like arrows amidst his hearers.... + </p> + <p> + This idea of a great sermon upon capital and labour did so powerfully grip + the bishop's imagination that he came near to losing the 8.27 train also. + </p> + <p> + He discovered it when it was already in the station. He had to walk down + the platform very quickly. He did not run, but his gaiters, he felt, + twinkled more than a bishop's should. + </p> + <p> + (8) + </p> + <p> + Directly he met his wife he realized that he had to hear something + important and unpleasant. + </p> + <p> + She stood waiting for him in the inner hall, looking very grave and still. + The light fell upon her pale face and her dark hair and her long white + silken dress, making her seem more delicate and unworldly than usual and + making the bishop feel grimy and sordid. + </p> + <p> + “I must have a wash,” he said, though before he had thought of nothing but + food. “I have had nothing to eat since tea-time—and that was mostly + talk.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella considered. “There are cold things.... You shall have a tray in + the study. Not in the dining-room. Eleanor is there. I want to tell you + something. But go upstairs first and wash your poor tired face.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing serious, I hope?” he asked, struck by an unusual quality in her + voice. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you,” she evaded, and after a moment of mutual scrutiny he + went past her upstairs. + </p> + <p> + Since they had come to Princhester Lady Ella had changed very markedly. + She seemed to her husband to have gained in dignity; she was stiller and + more restrained; a certain faint arrogance, a touch of the “ruling class” + manner had dwindled almost to the vanishing point. There had been a time + when she had inclined to an authoritative hauteur, when she had seemed + likely to develop into one of those aggressive and interfering old ladies + who play so overwhelming a part in British public affairs. She had been + known to initiate adverse judgments, to exercise the snub, to cut and + humiliate. Princhester had done much to purge her of such tendencies. + Princhester had made her think abundantly, and had put a new and subtler + quality into her beauty. It had taken away the least little disposition to + rustle as she moved, and it had softened her voice. + </p> + <p> + Now, when presently she stood in the study, she showed a new + circumspection in her treatment of her husband. She surveyed the tray + before him. + </p> + <p> + “You ought not to drink that Burgundy,” she said. “I can see you are + dog-tired. It was uncorked yesterday, and anyhow it is not very + digestible. This cold meat is bad enough. You ought to have one of those + quarter bottles of champagne you got for my last convalescence. There's + more than a dozen left over.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop felt that this was a pretty return of his own kindly thoughts + “after many days,” and soon Dunk, his valet-butler, was pouring out the + precious and refreshing glassful.... + </p> + <p> + “And now, dear?” said the bishop, feeling already much better. + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella had come round to the marble fireplace. The mantel-piece was a + handsome work by a Princhester artist in the Gill style—with + contemplative ascetics as supporters. + </p> + <p> + “I am worried about Eleanor,” said Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + “She is in the dining-room now,” she said, “having some dinner. She came + in about a quarter past eight, half way through dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Where had she been?” asked the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “Her dress was torn—in two places. Her wrist had been twisted and a + little sprained.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear!” + </p> + <p> + “Her face—Grubby! And she had been crying.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear, what had happened to her? You don't mean—?” + </p> + <p> + Husband and wife stared at one another aghast. Neither of them said the + horrid word that flamed between them. + </p> + <p> + “Merciful heaven!” said the bishop, and assumed an attitude of despair. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know she knew any of them. But it seems it is the second + Walshingham girl—Phoebe. It's impossible to trace a girl's thoughts + and friends. She persuaded her to go.” + </p> + <p> + “But did she understand?” + </p> + <p> + “That's the serious thing,” said Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + She seemed to consider whether he could bear the blow. + </p> + <p> + “She understands all sorts of things. She argues.... I am quite unable to + argue with her.” + </p> + <p> + “About this vote business?” + </p> + <p> + “About all sorts of things. Things I didn't imagine she had heard of. I + knew she had been reading books. But I never imagined that she could have + understood....” + </p> + <p> + The bishop laid down his knife and fork. + </p> + <p> + “One may read in books, one may even talk of things, without fully + understanding,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella tried to entertain this comforting thought. “It isn't like + that,” she said at last. “She talks like a grown-up person. This—this + escapade is just an accident. But things have gone further than that. She + seems to think—that she is not being educated properly here, that + she ought to go to a College. As if we were keeping things from her....” + </p> + <p> + The bishop reconsidered his plate. + </p> + <p> + “But what things?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “She says we get all round her,” said Lady Ella, and left the implications + of that phrase to unfold. + </p> + <p> + (9) + </p> + <p> + For a time the bishop said very little. + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella had found it necessary to make her first announcement standing + behind him upon the hearthrug, but now she sat upon the arm of the great + armchair as close to him as possible, and spoke in a more familiar tone. + </p> + <p> + The thing, she said, had come to her as a complete surprise. Everything + had seemed so safe. Eleanor had been thoughtful, it was true, but it had + never occurred to her mother that she had really been thinking—about + such things as she had been thinking about. She had ranged in the library, + and displayed a disposition to read the weekly papers and the monthly + reviews. But never a sign of discontent. + </p> + <p> + “But I don't understand,” said the bishop. “Why is she discontented? What + is there that she wants different?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + “She has got this idea that life here is secluded in some way,” she + expanded. “She used words like 'secluded' and 'artificial' and—what + was it?—'cloistered.' And she said—” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella paused with an effect of exact retrospection. + </p> + <p> + “'Out there,' she said, 'things are alive. Real things are happening.' It + is almost as if she did not fully believe—” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella paused again. + </p> + <p> + The bishop sat with his arm over the back of his chair, and his face + downcast. + </p> + <p> + “The ferment of youth,” he said at last. “The ferment of youth. Who has + given her these ideas?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella did not know. She could have thought a school like St. Aubyns + would have been safe, but nowadays nothing was safe. It was clear the + girls who went there talked as girls a generation ago did not talk. Their + people at home encouraged them to talk and profess opinions about + everything. It seemed that Phoebe Walshingham and Lady Kitty Kingdom were + the leaders in these premature mental excursions. Phoebe aired religious + doubts. + </p> + <p> + “But little Phoebe!” said the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “Kitty,” said Lady Ella, “has written a novel.” + </p> + <p> + “Already!” + </p> + <p> + “With elopements in it—and all sorts of things. She's had it typed. + You'd think Mary Crosshampton would know better than to let her daughter + go flourishing the family imagination about in that way.” + </p> + <p> + “Eleanor told you?” + </p> + <p> + “By way of showing that they think of—things in general.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop reflected. “She wants to go to College.” + </p> + <p> + “They want to go in a set.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if college can be much worse than school.... She's eighteen—? + But I will talk to her....” + </p> + <p> + (10) + </p> + <p> + All our children are changelings. They are perpetually fresh strangers. + Every day they vanish and a new person masquerades as yesterday's child + until some unexpected development betrays the cheat. + </p> + <p> + The bishop had still to learn this perennial newness of the young. He + learnt it in half an hour at the end of a fatiguing day. + </p> + <p> + He went into the dining-room. He went in as carelessly as possible and + smoking a cigarette. He had an honourable dread of being portentous in his + family; almost ostentatiously he laid the bishop aside. Eleanor had + finished her meal, and was sitting in the arm-chair by the fire with one + hand holding her sprained wrist. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, and strolled to the hearthrug. He had had an odd idea + that he would find her still dirty, torn, and tearful, as her mother had + described her, a little girl in a scrape. But she had changed into her + best white evening frock and put up her hair, and became in the firelight + more of a lady, a very young lady but still a lady, than she had ever been + to him before. She was dark like her mother, but not of the same willowy + type; she had more of her father's sturdy build, and she had developed her + shoulders at hockey and tennis. The firelight brought out the gracious + reposeful lines of a body that ripened in adolescence. And though there + was a vibration of resolution in her voice she spoke like one who is under + her own control. + </p> + <p> + “Mother has told you that I have disgraced myself,” she began. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the bishop, weighing it. “No. But you seem to have been + indiscreet, little Norah.” + </p> + <p> + “I got excited,” she said. “They began turning out the other women—roughly. + I was indignant.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't go to interrupt?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She considered. “No,” she said. “But I went.” + </p> + <p> + He liked her disposition to get it right. “On that side,” he assisted. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't the same thing as really meaning, Daddy,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “And then things happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said to the fire. + </p> + <p> + A pause followed. If they had been in a law-court, her barrister would + have said, “That is my case, my lord.” The bishop prepared to open the + next stage in the proceedings. + </p> + <p> + “I think, Norah, you shouldn't have been there at all,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Mother says that.” + </p> + <p> + “A man in my position is apt to be judged by his family. You commit more + than yourself when you commit an indiscretion. Apart from that, it wasn't + the place for a girl to be at. You are not a child now. We give you + freedom—more freedom than most girls get—because we think you + will use it wisely. You knew—enough to know that there was likely to + be trouble.” + </p> + <p> + The girl looked into the fire and spoke very carefully. “I don't think + that I oughtn't to know the things that are going on.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop studied her face for an instant. It struck him that they had + reached something very fundamental as between parent and child. His + modernity showed itself in the temperance of his reply. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think, my dear, that on the whole your mother and I, who have + lived longer and know more, are more likely to know when it is best that + you should begin to know—this or that?” + </p> + <p> + The girl knitted her brows and seemed to be reading her answer out of the + depths of the coals. She was on the verge of speaking, altered her mind + and tried a different beginning. + </p> + <p> + “I think that every one must do their thinking—his thinking—for—oneself,” + she said awkwardly. + </p> + <p> + “You mean you can't trust—?” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't trusting. But one knows best for oneself when one is hungry.” + </p> + <p> + “And you find yourself hungry?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to find out for myself what all this trouble about votes and + things means.” + </p> + <p> + “And we starve you—intellectually?” + </p> + <p> + “You know I don't think that. But you are busy....” + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you being perhaps a little impatient, Eleanor? After all—you + are barely eighteen.... We have given you all sorts of liberties.” + </p> + <p> + Her silence admitted it. “But still,” she said after a long pause, “there + are other girls, younger than I am, in these things. They talk about—oh, + all sorts of things. Freely....” + </p> + <p> + “You've been awfully good to me,” she said irrelevantly. “And of course + this meeting was all pure accident.” + </p> + <p> + Father and daughter remained silent for awhile, seeking a better grip. + </p> + <p> + “What exactly do you want, Eleanor?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She looked up at him. “Generally?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Your mother has the impression that you are discontented.” + </p> + <p> + “Discontented is a horrid word.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—unsatisfied.” + </p> + <p> + She remained still for a time. She felt the moment had come to make her + demand. + </p> + <p> + “I would like to go to Newnham or Somerville—and work. I feel—so + horribly ignorant. Of all sorts of things. If I were a son I should go—” + </p> + <p> + “Ye—es,” said the bishop and reflected. + </p> + <p> + He had gone rather far in the direction of the Woman Suffrage people; he + had advocated equality of standard in all sorts of matters, and the memory + of these utterances hampered him. + </p> + <p> + “You could read here,” he tried. + </p> + <p> + “If I were a son, you wouldn't say that.” + </p> + <p> + His reply was vague. “But in this home,” he said, “we have a certain + atmosphere.” + </p> + <p> + He left her to imply her differences in sensibility and response from the + hardier male. + </p> + <p> + Her hesitation marked the full gravity of her reply. “It's just that,” she + said. “One feels—” She considered it further. “As if we were living + in a kind of magic world—not really real. Out there—” she + glanced over her shoulder at the drawn blind that hid the night. “One + meets with different sorts of minds and different—atmospheres. All + this is very beautiful. I've had the most wonderful home. But there's a + sort of feeling as though it couldn't really go on, as though all these + strikes and doubts and questionings—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short at questionings, for the thing was said. + </p> + <p> + The bishop took her meaning gallantly and honestly. + </p> + <p> + “The church of Christ, little Norah, is built upon a rock.” + </p> + <p> + She made no answer. She moved her head very slightly so that he could not + see her face, and remained sitting rather stiffly and awkwardly with her + eyes upon the fire. + </p> + <p> + Her silence was the third and greatest blow the bishop received that + day.... + </p> + <p> + It seemed very long indeed before either of them spoke. At last he said: + “We must talk about these things again, Norah, when we are less tired and + have more time.... You have been reading books.... When Caxton set up his + printing-press he thrust a new power between church and disciple and + father and child.... And I am tired. We must talk it over a little later.” + </p> + <p> + The girl stood up. She took her father's hands. “Dear, dear Daddy,” she + said, “I am so sorry to be a bother. I am so sorry I went to that + meeting.... You look tired out.” + </p> + <p> + “We must talk—properly,” said the bishop, patting one hand, then + discovering from her wincing face that it was the sprained one. “Your poor + wrist,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It's so hard to talk, but I want to talk to you, Daddy. It isn't that I + have hidden things....” + </p> + <p> + She kissed him, and the bishop had the odd fancy that she kissed him as + though she was sorry for him.... + </p> + <p> + It occurred to him that really there could be no time like the present for + discussing these “questionings” of hers, and then his fatigue and shyness + had the better of him again. + </p> + <p> + (11) + </p> + <p> + The papers got hold of Eleanor's share in the suffragette disturbance. The + White Blackbird said things about her. + </p> + <p> + It did not attack her. It did worse. It admired her ...impudently. + </p> + <p> + It spoke of her once as “Norah,” and once as “the Scrope Flapper.” + </p> + <p> + Its headline proclaimed: “Plucky Flappers Hold Up L. G.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THE THIRD - INSOMNIA + </h2> + <h3> + (1) + </h3> + <p> + THE night after his conversation with Eleanor was the first night of the + bishop's insomnia. It was the definite beginning of a new phase in his + life. + </p> + <p> + Doctors explain to us that the immediate cause of insomnia is always some + poisoned or depleted state of the body, and no doubt the fatigues and + hasty meals of the day had left the bishop in a state of unprecedented + chemical disorder, with his nerves irritated by strange compounds and + unsoothed by familiar lubricants. But chemical disorders follow mental + disturbances, and the core and essence of his trouble was an intellectual + distress. For the first time in his life he was really in doubt, about + himself, about his way of living, about all his persuasions. It was a + general doubt. It was not a specific suspicion upon this point or that. It + was a feeling of detachment and unreality at once extraordinarily vague + and extraordinarily oppressive. It was as if he discovered himself flimsy + and transparent in a world of minatory solidity and opacity. It was as if + he found himself made not of flesh and blood but of tissue paper. + </p> + <p> + But this intellectual insecurity extended into his physical sensations. It + affected his feeling in his skin, as if it were not absolutely his own + skin. + </p> + <p> + And as he lay there, a weak phantom mentally and bodily, an endless + succession and recurrence of anxieties for which he could find no + reassurance besieged him. + </p> + <p> + Chief of this was his distress for Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + She was the central figure in this new sense of illusion in familiar and + trusted things. It was not only that the world of his existence which had + seemed to be the whole universe had become diaphanous and betrayed vast + and uncontrollable realities beyond it, but his daughter had as it were + suddenly opened a door in this glassy sphere of insecurity that had been + his abiding refuge, a door upon the stormy rebel outer world, and she + stood there, young, ignorant, confident, adventurous, ready to step out. + </p> + <p> + “Could it be possible that she did not believe?” + </p> + <p> + He saw her very vividly as he had seen her in the dining-room, slender and + upright, half child, half woman, so fragile and so fearless. And the door + she opened thus carelessly gave upon a stormy background like one of the + stormy backgrounds that were popular behind portrait Dianas in eighteenth + century paintings. Did she believe that all he had taught her, all the + life he led was—what was her phrase?—a kind of magic world, + not really real? + </p> + <p> + He groaned and turned over and repeated the words: “A kind of magic world—not + really real!” + </p> + <p> + The wind blew through the door she opened, and scattered everything in the + room. And still she held the door open. + </p> + <p> + He was astonished at himself. He started up in swift indignation. Had he + not taught the child? Had he not brought her up in an atmosphere of faith? + What right had she to turn upon him in this matter? It was—indeed it + was—a sort of insolence, a lack of reverence.... + </p> + <p> + It was strange he had not perceived this at the time. + </p> + <p> + But indeed at the first mention of “questionings” he ought to have + thundered. He saw that quite clearly now. He ought to have cried out and + said, “On your knees, my Norah, and ask pardon of God!” + </p> + <p> + Because after all faith is an emotional thing.... + </p> + <p> + He began to think very rapidly and copiously of things he ought to have + said to Eleanor. And now the eloquence of reverie was upon him. In a + little time he was also addressing the tea-party at Morrice Deans'. Upon + them too he ought to have thundered. And he knew now also all that he + should have said to the recalcitrant employer. Thunder also. Thunder is + surely the privilege of the higher clergy—under Jove. + </p> + <p> + But why hadn't he thundered? + </p> + <p> + He gesticulated in the darkness, thrust out a clutching hand. + </p> + <p> + There are situations that must be gripped—gripped firmly. And + without delay. In the middle ages there had been grip enough in a purple + glove. + </p> + <p> + (2) + </p> + <p> + From these belated seizures of the day's lost opportunities the bishop + passed to such a pessimistic estimate of the church as had never entered + his mind before. + </p> + <p> + It was as if he had fallen suddenly out of a spiritual balloon into a + world of bleak realism. He found himself asking unprecedented and + devastating questions, questions that implied the most fundamental + shiftings of opinion. Why was the church such a failure? Why had it no + grip upon either masters or men amidst this vigorous life of modern + industrialism, and why had it no grip upon the questioning young? It was a + tolerated thing, he felt, just as sometimes he had felt that the Crown was + a tolerated thing. He too was a tolerated thing; a curious survival.... + </p> + <p> + This was not as things should be. He struggled to recover a proper + attitude. But he remained enormously dissatisfied.... + </p> + <p> + The church was no Levite to pass by on the other side away from the + struggles and wrongs of the social conflict. It had no right when the + children asked for the bread of life to offer them Gothic stone.... + </p> + <p> + He began to make interminable weak plans for fulfilling his duty to his + diocese and his daughter. + </p> + <p> + What could he do to revivify his clergy? He wished he had more personal + magnetism, he wished he had a darker and a larger presence. He wished he + had not been saddled with Whippham's rather futile son as his chaplain. He + wished he had a dean instead of being his own dean. With an unsympathetic + rector. He wished he had it in him to make some resounding appeal. He + might of course preach a series of thumping addresses and sermons, rather + on the lines of “Fors Clavigera,” to masters and men, in the Cathedral. + Only it was so difficult to get either masters or men into the Cathedral. + </p> + <p> + Well, if the people will not come to the bishop the bishop must go out to + the people. Should he go outside the Cathedral—to the place where + the trains met? + </p> + <p> + Interweaving with such thoughts the problem of Eleanor rose again into his + consciousness. + </p> + <p> + Weren't there books she ought to read? Weren't there books she ought to be + made to read? And books—and friends—that ought to be + imperatively forbidden? Imperatively! + </p> + <p> + But how to define the forbidden? + </p> + <p> + He began to compose an address on Modern Literature (so-called). + </p> + <p> + It became acrimonious. + </p> + <p> + Before dawn the birds began to sing. + </p> + <p> + His mind had seemed to be a little tranquillized, there had been a + distinct feeling of subsidence sleepwards, when first one and then another + little creature roused itself and the bishop to greet the gathering + daylight. + </p> + <p> + It became a little clamour, a misty sea of sound in which individuality + appeared and disappeared. For a time a distant cuckoo was very + perceptible, like a landmark looming up over a fog, like the cuckoo in the + Pastoral Symphony. + </p> + <p> + The bishop tried not to heed these sounds, but they were by their very + nature insistent sounds. He lay disregarding them acutely. + </p> + <p> + Presently he pulled the coverlet over his ears. + </p> + <p> + A little later he sat up in bed. + </p> + <p> + Again in a slight detail he marked his strange and novel detachment from + the world of his upbringing. His hallucination of disillusionment had + spread from himself and his church and his faith to the whole animate + creation. He knew that these were the voices of “our feathered songsters,” + that this was “a joyous chorus” greeting the day. He knew that a wakeful + bishop ought to bless these happy creatures, and join with them by + reciting Ken's morning hymn. He made an effort that was more than half + habit, to repeat and he repeated with a scowling face and the voice of a + schoolmaster: + </p> + <p> + “Awake my soul, and with the sun Thy daily stage of duty run....” + </p> + <p> + He got no further. He stopped short, sat still, thinking what utterly + detestable things singing birds were. A. blackbird had gripped his + attention. Never had he heard such vain repetitions. He struggled against + the dark mood of criticism. “He prayeth best who loveth best—” + </p> + <p> + No, he did not love the birds. It was useless to pretend. Whatever one may + say about other birds a cuckoo is a low detestable cad of a bird. + </p> + <p> + Then the bishop began to be particularly tormented by a bird that made a + short, insistent, wheezing sound at regular intervals of perhaps twenty + seconds. If a bird could have whooping-cough, that, he thought, was the + sort of whoop it would have. But even if it had whooping-cough he could + not pity it. He hung in its intervals waiting for the return of the + wheeze. + </p> + <p> + And then that blackbird reasserted itself. It had a rich boastful note; it + seemed proud of its noisy reiteration of simple self-assertion. For some + obscure reason the phrase “oleographic sounds” drifted into the bishop's + thoughts. This bird produced the peculiar and irrational impression that + it had recently made a considerable sum of money by shrewd industrialism. + It was, he thought grimly, a genuine Princhester blackbird. + </p> + <p> + This wickedly uncharitable reference to his diocese ran all unchallenged + through the bishop's mind. And others no less wicked followed it. + </p> + <p> + Once during his summer holidays in Florence he and Lady Ella had + subscribed to an association for the protection of song-birds. He recalled + this now with a mild wonder. It seemed to him that perhaps after all it + was as well to let fruit-growers and Italians deal with singing-birds in + their own way. Perhaps after all they had a wisdom.... + </p> + <p> + He passed his hands over his face. The world after all is not made + entirely for singing-birds; there is such a thing as proportion. + Singing-birds may become a luxury, an indulgence, an excess. + </p> + <p> + Did the birds eat the fruit in Paradise? + </p> + <p> + Perhaps there they worked for some collective musical effect, had some + sort of conductor in the place of this—hullabaloo.... + </p> + <p> + He decided to walk about the room for a time and then remake his bed.... + </p> + <p> + The sunrise found the bishop with his head and shoulders out of the window + trying to see that blackbird. He just wanted to look at it. He was + persuaded it was a quite exceptional blackbird. + </p> + <p> + Again came that oppressive sense of the futility of the contemporary + church, but this time it came in the most grotesque form. For hanging half + out of the casement he was suddenly reminded of St. Francis of Assisi, and + how at his rebuke the wheeling swallow stilled their cries. + </p> + <p> + But it was all so different then. + </p> + <p> + (3) + </p> + <p> + It was only after he had passed four similar nights, with intervening days + of lassitude and afternoon siestas, that the bishop realized that he was + in the grip of insomnia. + </p> + <p> + He did not go at once to a doctor, but he told his trouble to every one he + met and received much tentative advice. He had meant to have his talk with + Eleanor on the morning next after their conversation in the dining-room, + but his bodily and spiritual anaemia prevented him. + </p> + <p> + The fifth night was the beginning of the Whitsuntide Ember week, and he + wore a red cassock and had a distracting and rather interesting day + welcoming his ordination candidates. They had a good effect upon him; we + spiritualize ourselves when we seek to spiritualize others, and he went to + bed in a happier frame of mind than he had done since the day of the + shock. He woke in the night, but he woke much more himself than he had + been since the trouble began. He repeated that verse of Ken's: + </p> + <p> + “When in the night I sleepless lie, My soul with heavenly thoughts supply; + Let no ill dreams disturb my rest, No powers of darkness me molest.” + </p> + <p> + Almost immediately after these there floated into his mind, as if it were + a message, the dear familiar words: + </p> + <p> + “He giveth his Beloved sleep.” + </p> + <p> + These words irradiated and soothed him quite miraculously, the clouds of + doubt seemed to dissolve and vanish and leave him safe and calm under a + clear sky; he knew those words were a promise, and very speedily he fell + asleep and slept until he was called. + </p> + <p> + But the next day was a troubled one. Whippham had muddled his timetable + and crowded his afternoon; the strike of the transport workers had begun, + and the ugly noises they made at the tramway depot, where they were booing + some one, penetrated into the palace. He had to snatch a meal between + services, and the sense of hurry invaded his afternoon lectures to the + candidates. He hated hurry in Ember week. His ideal was one of quiet + serenity, of grave things said slowly, of still, kneeling figures, of a + sort of dark cool spiritual germination. But what sort of dark cool + spiritual germination is possible with an ass like Whippham about? + </p> + <p> + In the fresh courage of the morning the bishop had arranged for that talk + with Eleanor he had already deferred too long, and this had proved less + satisfactory than he had intended it to be. + </p> + <p> + The bishop's experience with the ordination candidates was following the + usual course. Before they came there was something bordering upon distaste + for the coming invasion; then always there was an effect of surprise at + the youth and faith of the neophytes and a real response of the spirit to + the occasion. Throughout the first twenty-four hours they were all simply + neophytes, without individuality to break up their uniformity of + self-devotion. Then afterwards they began to develop little personal + traits, and scarcely ever were these pleasing traits. Always one or two of + them would begin haunting the bishop, giving way to an appetite for + special words, special recognitions. He knew the expression of that + craving on their faces. He knew the way-laying movements in room and + passage that presently began. + </p> + <p> + This time in particular there was a freckled underbred young man who + handed in what was evidently a carefully prepared memorandum upon what he + called “my positions.” Apparently he had a muddle of doubts about the + early fathers and the dates of the earlier authentic copies of the + gospels, things of no conceivable significance. + </p> + <p> + The bishop glanced through this bale of papers—it had of course no + index and no synopsis, and some of the pages were not numbered—handed + it over to Whippham, and when he proved, as usual, a broken reed, the + bishop had the brilliant idea of referring the young man to Canon Bliss + (of Pringle), “who has a special knowledge quite beyond my own in this + field.” + </p> + <p> + But he knew from the young man's eye even as he said this that it was not + going to put him off for more than a day or so. + </p> + <p> + The immediate result of glancing over these papers was, however, to + enhance in the bishop's mind a growing disposition to minimize the + importance of all dated and explicit evidences and arguments for orthodox + beliefs, and to resort to vague symbolic and liberal interpretations, and + it was in this state that he came to his talk with Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + He did not give her much time to develop her objections. He met her half + way and stated them for her, and overwhelmed her with sympathy and + understanding. She had been “too literal.” “Too literal” was his keynote. + He was a little astonished at the liberality of his own views. He had been + getting along now for some years without looking into his own opinions too + closely and he was by no means prepared to discover how far he had come to + meet his daughter's scepticisms. But he did meet them. He met them so + thoroughly that he almost conveyed that hers was a needlessly conservative + and oldfashioned attitude. + </p> + <p> + Occasionally he felt he was being a little evasive, but she did not seem + to notice it. As she took his drift, her relief and happiness were + manifest. And he had never noticed before how clear and pretty her eyes + were; they were the most honest eyes he had ever seen. She looked at him + very steadily as he explained, and lit up at his points. She brightened + wonderfully as she realized that after all they were not apart, they had + not differed; simply they had misunderstood.... + </p> + <p> + And before he knew where he was, and in a mere parenthetical declaration + of liberality, he surprised himself by conceding her demand for Newnham + even before she had repeated it. It helped his case wonderfully. + </p> + <p> + “Call in every exterior witness you can. The church will welcome them.... + No, I want you to go, my dear....” + </p> + <p> + But his mind was stirred again to its depths by this discussion. And in + particular he was surprised and a little puzzled by this Newnham + concession and the necessity of making his new attitude clear to Lady + Ella.... + </p> + <p> + It was with a sense of fatality that he found himself awake again that + night, like some one lying drowned and still and yet perfectly conscious + at the bottom of deep cold water. + </p> + <p> + He repeated, “He giveth his Beloved sleep,” but all the conviction had + gone out of the words. + </p> + <p> + (4) + </p> + <p> + Neither the bishop's insomnia nor his incertitudes about himself and his + faith developed in a simple and orderly manner. There were periods of + sustained suffering and periods of recovery; it was not for a year or so + that he regarded these troubles as more than acute incidental + interruptions of his general tranquillity or realized that he was passing + into a new phase of life and into a new quality of thought. He told every + one of the insomnia and no one of his doubts; these he betrayed only by an + increasing tendency towards vagueness, symbolism, poetry and toleration. + Eleanor seemed satisfied with his exposition; she did not press for + further enlightenment. She continued all her outward conformities except + that after a time she ceased to communicate; and in September she went + away to Newnham. Her doubts had not visibly affected Clementina or her + other sisters, and the bishop made no further attempts to explore the + spiritual life of his family below the surface of its formal acquiescence. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact his own spiritual wrestlings were almost exclusively + nocturnal. During his spells of insomnia he led a curiously double + existence. In the daytime he was largely the self he had always been, + able, assured, ecclesiastical, except that he was a little jaded and + irritable or sleepy instead of being quick and bright; he believed in God + and the church and the Royal Family and himself securely; in the wakeful + night time he experienced a different and novel self, a bare-minded self, + bleakly fearless at its best, shamelessly weak at its worst, critical, + sceptical, joyless, anxious. The anxiety was quite the worst element of + all. Something sat by his pillow asking grey questions: “What are you + doing? Where are you going? Is it really well with the children? Is it + really well with the church? Is it really well with the country? Are you + indeed doing anything at all? Are you anything more than an actor wearing + a costume in an archaic play? The people turn their backs on you.” + </p> + <p> + He would twist over on his pillow. He would whisper hymns and prayers that + had the quality of charms. + </p> + <p> + “He giveth his Beloved sleep”; that answered many times, and many times it + failed. + </p> + <p> + The labour troubles of 1912 eased off as the year wore on, and the + bitterness of the local press over the palace abated very considerably. + Indeed there was something like a watery gleam of popularity when he + brought down his consistent friend, the dear old Princess Christiana of + Hoch and Unter, black bonnet, deafness, and all, to open a new wing of the + children's hospital. The Princhester conservative paper took the occasion + to inform the diocese that he was a fluent German scholar and consequently + a persona grata with the royal aunts, and that the Princess Christiana was + merely just one of a number of royalties now practically at the beck and + call of Princhester. It was not true, but it was very effective locally, + and seemed to justify a little the hauteur of which Lady Ella was so + unjustly suspected. Yet it involved a possibility of disappointments in + the future. + </p> + <p> + He went to Brighton-Pomfrey too upon the score of his general health, and + Brighton-Pomfrey revised his general regimen, discouraged indiscreet + fasting, and suggested a complete abstinence from red wine except white + port, if indeed that can be called a red wine, and a moderate use of + Egyptian cigarettes. + </p> + <p> + But 1913 was a strenuous year. The labour troubles revived, the + suffragette movement increased greatly in violence and aggressiveness, and + there sprang up no less than three ecclesiastical scandals in the diocese. + First, the Kensitites set themselves firmly to make presentations and + prosecutions against Morrice Deans, who was reserving the sacrament, + wearing, they said, “Babylonish garments,” going beyond all reason in the + matter of infant confession, and generally brightening up Mogham Banks; + next, a popular preacher in Wombash, published a book under the + exasperating title, “The Light Under the Altar,” in which he showed + himself as something between an Arian and a Pantheist, and treated the + dogma of the Trinity with as little respect as one would show to an + intrusive cat; while thirdly, an obscure but overworked missioner of a tin + mission church in the new working-class district at Pringle, being + discovered in some sort of polygamous relationship, had seen fit to + publish in pamphlet form a scandalous admission and defence, a pamphlet + entitled “Marriage True and False,” taking the public needlessly into his + completest confidence and quoting the affairs of Abraham and Hosea, + reviving many points that are better forgotten about Luther, and appealing + also to such uncanonical authorities as Milton, Plato, and John Humphrey + Noyes. This abnormal concurrence of indiscipline was extremely unlucky for + the bishop. It plunged him into strenuous controversy upon three fronts, + so to speak, and involved a great number of personal encounters far too + vivid for his mental serenity. + </p> + <p> + The Pringle polygamist was the most moving as Morrice Deans was the most + exacting and troublesome and the Wombash Pantheist the most insidiously + destructive figure in these three toilsome disputes. The Pringle man's + soul had apparently missed the normal distribution of fig-leaves; he was + an illiterate, open-eyed, hard-voiced, freckled, rational-minded creature, + with large expository hands, who had come by a side way into the church + because he was an indefatigable worker, and he insisted upon telling the + bishop with an irrepressible candour and completeness just exactly what + was the matter with his intimate life. The bishop very earnestly did not + want these details, and did his utmost to avoid the controversial + questions that the honest man pressed respectfully but obstinately upon + him. + </p> + <p> + “Even St. Paul, my lord, admitted that it is better to marry than burn,” + said the Pringle misdemeanant, “and here was I, my lord, married and still + burning!” and, “I think you would find, my lord, considering all + Charlotte's peculiarities, that the situation was really much more trying + than the absolute celibacy St. Paul had in view.”... + </p> + <p> + The bishop listened to these arguments as little as possible, and did not + answer them at all. But afterwards the offender came and wept and said he + was ruined and heartbroken and unfairly treated because he wasn't a + gentleman, and that was distressing. It was so exactly true—and so + inevitable. He had been deprived, rather on account of his voice and + apologetics than of his offence, and public opinion was solidly with the + sentence. He made a gallant effort to found what he called a Labour Church + in Pringle, and after some financial misunderstandings departed with his + unambiguous menage to join the advanced movement on the Clyde. + </p> + <p> + The Morrice Deans enquiry however demanded an amount of erudition that + greatly fatigued the bishop. He had a very fair general knowledge of + vestments, but he had never really cared for anything but the poetry of + ornaments, and he had to work strenuously to master the legal side of the + question. Whippham, his chaplain, was worse than useless as a helper. The + bishop wanted to end the matter as quickly, quietly, and favourably to + Morrice Deans as possible; he thought Morrice Deans a thoroughly good man + in his parish, and he believed that the substitution of a low churchman + would mean a very complete collapse of church influence in Mogham Banks, + where people were now thoroughly accustomed to a highly ornate service. + But Morrice Deans was intractable and his pursuers indefatigable, and on + several occasions the bishop sat far into the night devising compromises + and equivocations that should make the Kensitites think that Morrice Deans + wasn't wearing vestments when he was, and that should make Morrice Deans + think he was wearing vestments when he wasn't. And it was Whippham who + first suggested green tea as a substitute for coffee, which gave the + bishop indigestion, as his stimulant for these nocturnal bouts. + </p> + <p> + Now green tea is the most lucid of poisons. + </p> + <p> + And while all this extra activity about Morrice Deans, these vigils and + crammings and writings down, were using all and more energy than the + bishop could well spare, he was also doing his quiet utmost to keep “The + Light under the Altar” ease from coming to a head. + </p> + <p> + This man he hated. + </p> + <p> + And he dreaded him as well as hated him. Chasters, the author of “The + Light under the Altar,” was a man who not only reasoned closely but + indelicately. There was a demonstrating, jeering, air about his preaching + and writing, and everything he said and did was saturated by the spirit of + challenge. He did not so much imitate as exaggerate the style of Matthew + Arnold. And whatever was done publicly against him would have to be done + very publicly because his book had got him a London reputation. + </p> + <p> + From the bishop's point of view Chasters was one of nature's ignoblemen. + He seemed to have subscribed to the Thirty-Nine Articles and passed all + the tests and taken all the pledges that stand on the way to ordination, + chiefly for the pleasure of attacking them more successfully from the + rear; he had been given the living of Wombash by a cousin, and filled it + very largely because it was not only more piquant but more remunerative + and respectable to be a rationalist lecturer in a surplice. And in a hard + kind of ultra-Protestant way his social and parochial work was not badly + done. But his sermons were terrible. “He takes a text,” said one + informant, “and he goes on firstly, secondly, thirdly, fourthly, like + somebody tearing the petals from a flower. 'Finally,' he says, and throws + the bare stalk into the dustbin.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop avoided “The Light under the Altar” for nearly a year. It was + only when a second book was announced with the winning title of “The Core + of Truth in Christianity” that he perceived he must take action. He sat up + late one night with a marked copy, a very indignantly marked copy, of the + former work that an elderly colonel, a Wombash parishioner, an orthodox + Layman of the most virulent type, had sent him. He perceived that he had + to deal with a dialectician of exceptional ability, who had concentrated a + quite considerable weight of scholarship upon the task of explaining away + every scrap of spiritual significance in the Eucharist. From Chasters the + bishop was driven by reference to the works of Legge and Frazer, and for + the first time he began to measure the dimensions and power of the modern + criticism of church doctrine and observance. Green tea should have lit his + way to refutation; instead it lit up the whole inquiry with a light of + melancholy confirmation. Neither by night nor by day could the bishop find + a proper method of opening a counter attack upon Chasters, who was + indisputably an intellectually abler man and a very ruthless beast indeed + to assail, and meanwhile the demand that action should be taken increased. + </p> + <p> + The literature of church history and the controversies arising out of + doctrinal development became the employment of the bishop's leisure and a + commanding preoccupation. He would have liked to discuss with some one + else the network of perplexities in which he was entangling himself, and + more particularly with Canon Bliss, but his own positions were becoming so + insecure that he feared to betray them by argument. He had grown up with a + kind of intellectual modesty. Some things he had never yet talked about; + it made his mind blench to think of talking about them. And his great + aching gaps of wakefulness began now, thanks to the green tea, to be + interspersed with theological dreams and visions of an extravagant + vividness. He would see Frazer's sacrificial kings butchered picturesquely + and terribly amidst strange and grotesque rituals; he would survey long + and elaborate processions and ceremonials in which the most remarkable + symbols were borne high in the sight of all men; he would cower before a + gigantic and threatening Heaven. These green-tea dreams and visions were + not so much phases of sleep as an intensification and vivid furnishing + forth of insomnia. It added greatly to his disturbance that—exceeding + the instructions of Brighton-Pomfrey—he had now experimented + ignorantly and planlessly with one or two narcotics and sleeping mixtures + that friends and acquaintances had mentioned in his hearing. For the first + time in his life he became secretive from his wife. He knew he ought not + to take these things, he knew they were physically and morally evil, but a + tormenting craving drove him to them. Subtly and insensibly his character + was being undermined by the growing nervous trouble. + </p> + <p> + He astonished himself by the cunning and the hypocritical dignity he could + display in procuring these drugs. He arranged to have a tea-making set in + his bedroom, and secretly substituted green tea, for which he developed a + powerful craving, in the place of the delicate China tea Lady Ella + procured him. + </p> + <p> + (5) + </p> + <p> + These doctrinal and physical anxieties and distresses were at their worst + in the spring and early summer of 1914. That was a time of great mental + and moral disturbance. There was premonition in the air of those days. It + was like the uneasiness sensitive people experience before a thunderstorm. + The moral atmosphere was sullen and close. The whole world seemed + irritable and mischievous. The suffragettes became extraordinarily + malignant; the democratic movement went rotten with sabotage and with a + cant of being “rebels”; the reactionary Tories and a crew of noisy old + peeresses set themselves to create incurable confusion again in the + healing wounds of Ireland, and feuds and frantic folly broke out at every + point of the social and political edifice. And then a bomb burst at + Sarajevo that silenced all this tumult. The unstable polity of Europe + heeled over like a ship that founders. + </p> + <p> + Through the swiftest, tensest week in history Europe capsized into war. + </p> + <p> + (6) + </p> + <p> + The first effect of the war upon the mind of the bishop, as upon most + imaginative minds, was to steady and exalt it. Trivialities and + exasperations seemed swept out of existence. Men lifted up their eyes from + disputes that had seemed incurable and wrangling that promised to be + interminable, and discovered a plain and tragic issue that involved every + one in a common call for devotion. For a great number of men and women who + had been born and bred in security, the August and September of 1914 were + the supremely heroic period of their lives. Myriads of souls were born + again to ideas of service and sacrifice in those tremendous days. + </p> + <p> + Black and evil thing as the war was, it was at any rate a great thing; it + did this much for countless minds that for the first time they realized + the epic quality of history and their own relationship to the destinies of + the race. The flimsy roof under which we had been living our lives of + comedy fell and shattered the floor under our feet; we saw the stars above + and the abyss below. We perceived that life was insecure and adventurous, + part of one vast adventure in space and time.... + </p> + <p> + Presently the smoke and dust of battle hid the great distances again, but + they could not altogether destroy the memories of this revelation. + </p> + <p> + For the first two months the bishop's attention was so detached from his + immediate surroundings and employments, so absorbed by great events, that + his history if it were told in detail would differ scarcely at all from + the histories of most comparatively unemployed minds during those first + dramatic days, the days when the Germans made their great rush upon Paris + and it seemed that France was down, France and the whole fabric of liberal + civilization. He emerged from these stunning apprehensions after the + Battle of the Marne, to find himself busy upon a score of dispersed and + disconnected war jobs, and trying to get all the new appearances and + forces and urgencies of the war into relations with himself. One thing + became very vivid indeed, that he wasn't being used in any real and + effective way in the war. There was a mighty going to and fro upon Red + Cross work and various war committees, a vast preparation for wounded men + and for the succour of dislocated families; a preparation, that proved to + be needless, for catastrophic unemployment. The war problem and the puzzle + of German psychology ousted for a time all other intellectual interests; + like every one else the bishop swam deep in Nietzsche, Bernhardi, Houston + Stewart Chamberlain, and the like; he preached several sermons upon German + materialism and the astonishing decay of the German character. He also + read every newspaper he could lay his hands on—like any secular man. + He signed an address to the Russian Orthodox church, beginning “Brethren,” + and he revised his impressions of the Filioque controversy. The idea of a + reunion of the two great state churches of Russia and England had always + attracted him. But hitherto it had been a thing quite out of scale, + visionary, utopian. Now in this strange time of altered perspectives it + seemed the most practicable of suggestions. The mayor and corporation and + a detachment of the special reserve in uniform came to a great + intercession service, and in the palace there were two conferences of + local influential people, people of the most various types, people who had + never met tolerantly before, expressing now opinions of unprecedented + breadth and liberality. + </p> + <p> + All this sort of thing was fresh and exciting at first, and then it began + to fall into a routine and became habitual, and as it became habitual he + found that old sense of detachment and futility was creeping back again. + One day he realized that indeed the whole flood and tumult of the war + would be going on almost exactly as it was going on now if there had been + neither cathedral nor bishop in Princhester. It came to him that if + archbishops were rolled into patriarchs and patriarchs into archbishops, + it would matter scarcely more in the world process that was afoot than if + two men shook hands while their house was afire. At times all of us have + inappropriate thoughts. The unfortunate thought that struck the bishop as + a bullet might strike a man in an exposed trench, as he was hurrying + through the cloisters to a special service and address upon that doubly + glorious day in our English history, the day of St. Crispin, was of + Diogenes rolling his tub. + </p> + <p> + It was a poisonous thought. + </p> + <p> + It arose perhaps out of an article in a weekly paper at which he had + glanced after lunch, an article written by one of those sceptical spirits + who find all too abundant expression in our periodical literature. The + writer boldly charged the “Christian churches” with absolute + ineffectiveness. This war, he declared, was above all other wars a war of + ideas, of material organization against rational freedom, of violence + against law; it was a war more copiously discussed than any war had ever + been before, the air was thick with apologetics. And what was the voice of + the church amidst these elemental issues? Bishops and divines who were + patriots one heard discordantly enough, but where were the bishops and + divines who spoke for the Prince of Peace? Where was the blessing of the + church, where was the veto of the church? When it came to that one + discovered only a broad preoccupied back busied in supplementing the Army + Medical Corps with Red Cross activities, good work in its way—except + that the canonicals seemed superfluous. Who indeed looked to the church + for any voice at all? And so to Diogenes. + </p> + <p> + The bishop's mind went hunting for an answer to that indictment. And came + back and came back to the image of Diogenes. + </p> + <p> + It was with that image dangling like a barbed arrow from his mind that the + bishop went into the pulpit to preach upon St. Crispin's day, and looked + down upon a thin and scattered congregation in which the elderly, the + childless, and the unoccupied predominated. + </p> + <p> + That night insomnia resumed its sway. + </p> + <p> + Of course the church ought to be controlling this great storm, the + greatest storm of war that had ever stirred mankind. It ought to be + standing fearlessly between the combatants like a figure in a wall + painting, with the cross of Christ uplifted and the restored memory of + Christendom softening the eyes of the armed nations. “Put down those + weapons and listen to me,” so the church should speak in irresistible + tones, in a voice of silver trumpets. + </p> + <p> + Instead it kept a long way from the fighting, tucked up its vestments, and + was rolling its local tubs quite briskly. + </p> + <p> + (7) + </p> + <p> + And then came the aggravation of all these distresses by an abrupt + abandonment of smoking and alcohol. Alcoholic relaxation, a necessary + mitigation of the unreality of peacetime politics, becomes a grave danger + in war, and it was with an understandable desire to forward the interests + of his realm that the King decided to set his statesmen an example—which + unhappily was not very widely followed—by abstaining from alcohol + during the continuance of the struggle. It did however swing over the + Bishop of Princhester to an immediate and complete abandonment of both + drink and tobacco. At that time he was finding comfort for his nerves in + Manila cheroots, and a particularly big and heavy type of Egyptian + cigarette with a considerable amount of opium, and his disorganized system + seized upon this sudden change as a grievance, and set all his jangling + being crying aloud for one cigarette—just one cigarette. + </p> + <p> + The cheroots, it seemed, he could better spare, but a cigarette became his + symbol for his lost steadiness and ease. + </p> + <p> + It brought him low. + </p> + <p> + The reader has already been told the lamentable incident of the stolen + cigarette and the small boy, and how the bishop, tormented by that + shameful memory, cried aloud in the night. + </p> + <p> + The bishop rolled his tub, and is there any tub-rolling in the world more + busy and exacting than a bishop's? He rolled in it spite of ill-health and + insomnia, and all the while he was tormented by the enormous background of + the world war, by his ineffective realization of vast national needs, by + his passionate desire, for himself and his church, not to be ineffective. + </p> + <p> + The distressful alternation between nights of lucid doubt and days of dull + acquiescence was resumed with an intensification of its contrasts. The + brief phase of hope that followed the turn of the fighting upon the Maine, + the hope that after all the war would end swiftly, dramatically, and + justly, and everything be as it had been before—but pleasanter, gave + place to a phase that bordered upon despair. The fall of Antwerp and the + doubts and uncertainties of the Flanders situation weighed terribly upon + the bishop. He was haunted for a time by nightmares of Zeppelins presently + raining fire upon London. These visions became Apocalyptic. The Zeppelins + came to England with the new year, and with the close of the year came the + struggle for Ypres that was so near to being a collapse of the allied + defensive. The events of the early spring, the bloody failure of British + generalship at Neuve Chapelle, the naval disaster in the Dardanelles, the + sinking of the Falaba, the Russian defeat in the Masurian Lakes, all + deepened the bishop's impression of the immensity of the nation's + difficulties and of his own unhelpfulness. He was ashamed that the church + should hold back its curates from enlistment while the French priests were + wearing their uniforms in the trenches; the expedition of the Bishop of + London to hold open-air services at the front seemed merely to accentuate + the tub-rolling. It was rolling the tub just where it was most in the way. + </p> + <p> + What was wrong? What was wanting? + </p> + <p> + The Westminster Gazette, The Spectator, and several other of the most + trusted organs of public opinion were intermittently discussing the same + question. Their discussions implied at once the extreme need that was felt + for religion by all sorts of representative people, and the universal + conviction that the church was in some way muddling and masking her + revelation. “What is wrong with the Churches?” was, for example, the + general heading of The Westminster Gazette's correspondence. + </p> + <p> + One day the bishop skimmed a brief incisive utterance by Sir Harry + Johnston that pierced to the marrow of his own shrinking convictions. Sir + Harry is one of those people who seem to write as well as speak in a quick + tenor. “Instead of propounding plainly and without the acereted mythology + of Asia Minor, Greece and Rome, the pure Gospel of Christ.... they present + it overloaded with unbelievable myths (such as, among a thousand others, + that Massacre of the Innocents which never took place).... bore their + listeners by a Tibetan repetition of creeds that have ceased to be + credible.... Mutually contradictory propositions.... Prayers and litanies + composed in Byzantine and mediaeval times.... the want of actuality, the + curious silliness which has, ever since the destruction of Jerusalem, hung + about the exposition of Christianity.... But if the Bishops continue to + fuss about the trappings of religion.... the maintenance of codes compiled + by people who lived sixteen hundred or two thousand five hundred years + ago.... the increasingly educated and practical-minded working classes + will not come to church, weekday or Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop held the paper in his hand, and with a mind that he felt to be + terribly open, asked himself how true that sharp indictment might be, and, + granting its general truth, what was the duty of the church, that is to + say of the bishops, for as Cyprian says, ecelesia est in episcopo. We say + the creeds; how far may we unsay them? + </p> + <p> + So far he had taken no open action against Chasters. Suppose now he were + to side with Chasters and let the whole diocese, the church of + Princhester, drift as far as it chose under his inaction towards an + extreme modernism, risking a conflict with, and if necessary fighting, the + archbishop.... It was but for a moment that his mind swung to this + possibility and then recoiled. The Laymen, that band of bigots, would + fight. He could not contemplate litigation and wrangling about the + teaching of the church. Besides, what were the “trappings of religion” and + what the essentials? What after all was “the pure gospel of Christ” of + which this writer wrote so glibly? He put the paper down and took a New + Testament from his desk and opened it haphazard. He felt a curious wish + that he could read it for the first time. It was over-familiar. Everything + latterly in his theology and beliefs had become over-familiar. It had all + become mechanical and dead and unmeaning to his tired mind.... + </p> + <p> + Whippham came with a reminder of more tub-rolling, and the bishop's + speculations were broken off. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THE FOURTH - THE SYMPATHY OF LADY SUNDERBUND + </h2> + <h3> + (1) + </h3> + <p> + THAT night when he cried aloud at the memory of his furtive cigarette, the + bishop was staying with a rich man named Garstein Fellows. These Garstein + Fellows people were steel people with a financial side to them; young + Garstein Fellows had his fingers in various chemical businesses, and the + real life of the firm was in various minor partners called Hartstein and + Blumenhart and so forth, who had acquired a considerable amount of + ungentlemanly science and energy in Germany and German Switzerland. But + the Fellows element was good old Princhester stuff. There had been a + Fellows firm in Princhester in 1819. They were not people the bishop liked + and it was not a house the bishop liked staying at, but it had become part + of his policy to visit and keep in touch with as many of the local + plutocracy as he could, to give and take with them, in order to make the + presence of the church a reality to them. It had been not least among the + negligences and evasions of the sainted but indolent Hood that he had + invariably refused overnight hospitality whenever it was possible for him + to get back to his home. The morning was his working time. His books and + hymns had profited at the cost of missing many a generous after-dinner + subscription, and at the expense of social unity. From the outset Scrope + had set himself to alter this. A certain lack of enthusiasm on Lady Ella's + part had merely provoked him to greater effort on his own. His ideal of + what was needed with the people was something rather jolly and familiar, + something like a very good and successful French or Irish priest, + something that came easily and readily into their homes and laid a + friendly hand on their shoulders. The less he liked these rich people + naturally the more familiar his resolution to be successfully intimate + made him. He put down the names and brief characteristics of their sons + and daughters in a little note-book and consulted it before every visit so + as to get his most casual enquiries right. And he invited himself to the + Garstein Fellows house on this occasion by telegram. + </p> + <p> + “A special mission and some business in Wombash may I have a scrap of + supper and a bed?” + </p> + <p> + Now Mrs. Garstein Fellows was a thoroughly London woman; she was one of + the banking Grunenbaums, the fair tall sort, and she had a very decided + tendency to smartness. She had a little party in the house, a sort of long + week-end party, that made her hesitate for a minute or so before she + framed a reply to the bishop's request. + </p> + <p> + It was the intention of Mrs. Garstein Fellows to succeed very + conspicuously in the British world, and the British world she felt was a + complicated one; it is really not one world but several, and if you would + surely succeed you must keep your peace with all the systems and be a + source of satisfaction to all of them. So at least Mrs. Garstein Fellows + saw it, and her method was to classify her acquaintances according to + their systems, to keep them in their proper bundles, and to give every one + the treatment he or she was accustomed to receive. And since all things + British are now changing and passing away, it may not be uninteresting to + record the classification Mrs. Garstein Fellows adopted. First she set + apart as most precious and desirable, and requiring the most careful + treatment, the “court dowdies “—for so it was that the dignity and + quiet good taste that radiated from Buckingham Palace impressed her + restless, shallow mind—the sort of people who prefer pair horse + carriages to automobiles, have quiet friendships in the highest quarters, + quietly do not know any one else, busy themselves with charities, dress + richly rather than impressively, and have either little water-colour + accomplishments or none at all, and no other relations with “art.” At the + skirts of this crowning British world Mrs. Garstein Fellows tugged + industriously and expensively. She did not keep a carriage and pair and an + old family coachman because that, she felt, would be considered pushing + and presumptuous; she had the sense to stick to her common unpretending 80 + h.p. Daimler; but she wore a special sort of blackish hat-bonnet for such + occasions as brought her near the centre of honour, which she got from a + little good shop known only to very few outside the inner ring, which + hat-bonnet she was always careful to sit on for a few minutes before + wearing. And it was to this first and highest and best section of her + social scheme that she considered that bishops properly belonged. But some + bishops, and in particular such a comparatively bright bishop as the + Bishop of Princhester, she also thought of as being just as comfortably + accommodated in her second system, the “serious liberal lot,” which was + more fatiguing and less boring, which talked of books and things, visited + the Bells, went to all first-nights when Granville Barker was the + producer, and knew and valued people in the grey and earnest plains + between the Cecils and the Sidney Webbs. And thirdly there were the smart + intellectual lot, again not very well marked off, and on the whole + practicable to bishops, of whom fewer particulars are needed because + theirs is a perennial species, and then finally there was that fourth + world which was paradoxically at once very brilliant and a little shady, + which had its Night Club side, and seemed to set no limit to its + eccentricities. It seemed at times to be aiming to shock and yet it had + its standards, but here it was that the dancers and actresses and forgiven + divorcees came in—and the bishops as a rule, a rule hitherto always + respected, didn't. This was the ultimate world of Mrs. Garstein Fellows; + she had no use for merely sporting people and the merely correct smart and + the duller county families, sets that led nowhere, and it was from her + fourth system of the Glittering Doubtfuls that this party which made her + hesitate over the bishop's telegram, was derived. + </p> + <p> + She ran over their names as she sat considering her reply. + </p> + <p> + What was there for a bishop to object to? There was that admirable + American widow, Lady Sunderbund. She was enormously rich, she was + enthusiastic. She was really on probation for higher levels; it was her + decolletage delayed her. If only she kept off theosophy and the Keltic + renascence and her disposition to profess wild intellectual passions, + there would be no harm in her. Provided she didn't come down to dinner in + anything too fantastically scanty—but a word in season was possible. + No! there was no harm in Lady Sunderbund. Then there were Ridgeway Kelso + and this dark excitable Catholic friend of his, Paidraig O'Gorman. Mrs. + Garstein Fellows saw no harm in them. Then one had to consider Lord + Gatling and Lizzie Barusetter. But nothing showed, nothing was likely to + show even if there was anything. And besides, wasn't there a Church and + Stage Guild? + </p> + <p> + Except for those people there seemed little reason for alarm. Mrs. + Garstein Fellows did not know that Professor Hoppart, who so amusingly + combined a professorship of political economy with the writing of + music-hall lyrics, was a keen amateur theologian, nor that Bent, the + sentimental novelist, had a similar passion. She did not know that her own + eldest son, a dark, romantic-looking youngster from Eton, had also come to + the theological stage of development. She did however weigh the + possibilities of too liberal opinions on what are called social questions + on the part of Miss Sharsper, the novelist, and decided that if that lady + was watched nothing so terrible could be said even in an undertone; and as + for the Mariposa, the dancer, she had nothing but Spanish and bad French, + she looked all right, and it wasn't very likely she would go out of her + way to startle an Anglican bishop. Simply she needn't dance. Besides which + even if a man does get a glimpse of a little something—it isn't as + if it was a woman. + </p> + <p> + But of course if the party mustn't annoy the bishop, the bishop must do + his duty by the party. There must be the usual purple and the silver + buckles. + </p> + <p> + She wired back: + </p> + <p> + “A little party but it won't put you out send your man with your change.” + </p> + <p> + (2) + </p> + <p> + In making that promise Mrs. Garstein Fellows reckoned without the morbid + sensibility of the bishop's disorganized nervous system and the + unsuspected theological stirrings beneath the apparent worldliness of + Hoppart and Bent. + </p> + <p> + The trouble began in the drawing-room after dinner. Out of deference to + the bishop's abstinence the men did not remain to smoke, but came in to + find the Mariposa and Lady Sunderbund smoking cigarettes, which these + ladies continued to do a little defiantly. They had hoped to finish them + before the bishop came up. The night was chilly, and a cheerful wood fire + cracking and banging on the fireplace emphasized the ordinary heating. + Mrs. Garstein Fellows, who had not expected so prompt an appearance of the + men, had arranged her chairs in a semicircle for a little womanly gossip, + and before she could intervene she found her party, with the exception of + Lord Gatling, who had drifted just a little too noticeably with Miss + Barnsetter into a window, sitting round with a conscious air, that was + perhaps just a trifle too apparent, of being “good.” + </p> + <p> + And Mr. Bent plunged boldly into general conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Are you reading anything now, Mrs. Garstein Fellows?” he asked. “I'm an + interested party.” + </p> + <p> + She was standing at the side of the fireplace. She bit her lip and looked + at the cornice and meditated with a girlish expression. “Yes,” she said. + “I am reading again. I didn't think I should but I am.” + </p> + <p> + “For a time,” said Hoppart, “I read nothing but the papers. I bought from + a dozen to twenty a day.” + </p> + <p> + “That is wearing off,” said the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “The first thing I began to read again,” said Mrs. Garstein Fellows, “—I'm + not saying it for your sake, Bishop—was the Bible.” + </p> + <p> + “I went to the Bible,” said Bent as if he was surprised. + </p> + <p> + “I've heard that before,” said Ridgeway Kelso, in that slightly explosive + manner of his. “All sorts of people who don't usually read the Bible—” + </p> + <p> + “But Mr. Kelso!” protested their hostess with raised eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of Bent. But anyhow there's been a great wave of + seriousness, a sudden turning to religion and religious things. I don't + know if it comes your way, Bishop....” + </p> + <p> + “I've had no rows of penitents yet.” + </p> + <p> + “We may be coming,” said Hoppart. + </p> + <p> + He turned sideways to face the bishop. “I think we should be coming if—if + it wasn't for old entangled difficulties. I don't know if you will mind my + saying it to you, but....” + </p> + <p> + The bishop returned his frank glance. “I'd like to know above all things,” + he said. “If Mrs. Garstein Fellow will permit us. It's my business to + know.” + </p> + <p> + “We all want to know,” said Lady Sunderbund, speaking from the low chair + on the other side of the fireplace. There was a vibration in her voice and + a sudden gleam of enthusiasm in her face. “Why shouldn't people talk + se'iously sometimes?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, take my own case,” said Hoppart. “In the last few weeks, I've been + reading not only in the Bible but in the Fathers. I've read most of + Athanasius, most of Eusebius, and—I'll confess it—Gibbon. I + find all my old wonder come back. Why are we pinned to—to the amount + of creed we are pinned to? Why for instance must you insist on the + Trinity?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the Eton boy explosively, and flushed darkly to find he had + spoken. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a time when men ask for God,” said Hoppart. “And you give them + three!” cried Bent rather cheaply. “I confess I find the way encumbered by + these Alexandrian elaborations,” Hoppart completed. + </p> + <p> + “Need it be?” whispered Lady Sunderbund very softly. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the bishop, and leant back in his armchair and knitted his + brow at the fire. “I do not think,” he said, “that men coming to God think + very much of the nature of God. Nevertheless,” he spoke slowly and patted + the arm of his chair, “nevertheless the church insists that certain + vitally important truths have to be conveyed, certain mortal errors are + best guarded against, by these symbols.” + </p> + <p> + “You admit they are symbols.” + </p> + <p> + “So the church has always called them.” + </p> + <p> + Hoppart showed by a little movement and grimace that he thought the bishop + quibbled. + </p> + <p> + “In every sense of the word,” the bishop hastened to explain, “the creeds + are symbolical. It is clear they seek to express ineffable things by at + least an extended use of familiar words. I suppose we are all agreed + nowadays that when we speak of the Father and of the Son we mean something + only in a very remote and exalted way parallel with—with biological + fatherhood and sonship.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Sunderbund nodded eagerly. “Yes,” she said, “oh, yes,” and held up an + expectant face for more. + </p> + <p> + “Our utmost words, our most elaborately phrased creeds, can at the best be + no better than the shadow of something unseen thrown upon the screen of + experience.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his rather weary eyes to Hoppart as if he would know what else + needed explanation. He was gratified by Lady Sunderbund's approval, but he + affected not to see or hear it. But it was Bent who spoke. + </p> + <p> + He spoke in the most casual way. He made the thing seem the most + incidental of observations. + </p> + <p> + “What puzzles me,” he said, “is why the early Christians identified the + Spermaticos Logos of the Stoics with the second and not with the third + person of the Trinity.” + </p> + <p> + To which the bishop, rising artlessly to the bait, replied, “Ah! that + indeed is the unfortunate aspect of the whole affair.” + </p> + <p> + And then the Irish Catholic came down on him.... + </p> + <p> + (3) + </p> + <p> + How the bishop awakened in the night after this dispute has been told + already in the opening section of this story. To that night of discomfort + we now return after this comprehensive digression. He awoke from + nightmares of eyes and triangles to bottomless remorse and perplexity. For + the first time he fully measured the vast distances he had travelled from + the beliefs and attitudes of his early training, since his coming to + Princhester. Travelled—or rather slipped and fallen down the long + slopes of doubt. + </p> + <p> + That clear inky dimness that comes before dawn found his white face at the + window looking out upon the great terrace and the park. + </p> + <p> + (4) + </p> + <p> + After a bout of mental distress and sleeplessness the bishop would + sometimes wake in the morning not so much exhausted as in a state of thin + mental and bodily activity. This was more particularly so if the night had + produced anything in the nature of a purpose. So it was on this occasion. + The day was clear before him; at least it could be cleared by sending + three telegrams; his man could go back to Princhester and so leave him + perfectly free to go to Brighton-Pomfrey in London and secure that + friendly dispensation to smoke again which seemed the only alternative to + a serious mental breakdown. He would take his bag, stay the night in + London, smoke, sleep well, and return the next morning. Dunk, his + valet-butler, found him already bathed and ready for a cup of tea and a + Bradshaw at half-past seven. He went on dressing although the good train + for London did not start until 10.45. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Garstein Fellows was by nature and principle a late riser; the + breakfast-room showed small promise yet of the repast, though the table + was set and bright with silver and fresh flowers, and a wood fire popped + and spurted to greet and encourage the March sunshine. But standing in the + doorway that led to the promise and daffodils and crocuses of Mrs. + Garstein Fellows' garden stood Lady Sunderbund, almost with an effect of + waiting, and she greeted the bishop very cheerfully, doubted the immediate + appearance of any one else, and led him in the most natural manner into + the new but already very pleasant shrubbery. + </p> + <p> + In some indefinable special way the bishop had been aware of Lady + Sunderbund's presence since first he had met her, but it was only now that + he could observe her with any particularity. She was tall like his own + Lady Ella but not calm and quiet; she was electric, her eyes, her smiles, + her complexion had as it were an established brightness that exceeded the + common lustre of things. This morning she was dressed in grey that was + nevertheless not grey but had an effect of colour, and there was a thread + of black along the lines of her body and a gleam of gold. She carried her + head back with less dignity than pride; there was a little frozen movement + in her dark hair as if it flamed up out of her head. There were silver + ornaments in her hair. She spoke with a pretty little weakness of the r's + that had probably been acquired abroad. And she lost no time in telling + him, she was eager to tell him, that she had been waylaying him. “I did so + want to talk to you some maw,” she said. “I was shy last night and they + we' all so noisy and eaga'. I p'ayed that you might come down early. + </p> + <p> + “It's an oppo'tunity I've longed for,” she said. + </p> + <p> + She did her very pretty best to convey what it was had been troubling her. + 'iligion bad been worrying her for years. Life was—oh—just + ornaments and games and so wea'isome, so wea'isome, unless it was + 'iligious. And she couldn't get it 'iligious. + </p> + <p> + The bishop nodded his head gravely. + </p> + <p> + “You unde'stand?” she pressed. + </p> + <p> + “I understand too well—the attempt to get hold—and keep hold.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew you would!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + She went on with an impulsive rapidity. O'thodoxy had always 'ipelled her,—always. + She had felt herself confronted by the most insurmountable difficulties, + and yet whenever she had gone away from Christianity—she had gone + away from Christianity, to the Theosophists and the Christian Scientists—she + had felt she was only “st'aying fu'tha.” And then suddenly when he was + speaking last night, she had felt he knew. It was so wonderful to hear the + “k'eed was only a symbol.” + </p> + <p> + “Symbol is the proper name for it,” said the bishop. “It wasn't for + centuries it was called the Creed.” + </p> + <p> + Yes, and so what it really meant was something quite different from what + it did mean. + </p> + <p> + The bishop felt that this sentence also was only a symbol, and nodded + encouragingly—but gravely, warily. + </p> + <p> + And there she was, and the point was there were thousands and thousands + and thousands of educated people like her who were dying to get through + these old-fashioned symbols to the true faith that lay behind them. That + they knew lay behind them. She didn't know if he had read “The Light under + the Altar”? + </p> + <p> + “He's vicar of Wombash—in my diocese,” said the bishop with + restraint. + </p> + <p> + “It's wonde'ful stuff,” said Lady Sunderbund. “It's spi'tually cold, but + it's intellectually wonde'ful. But we want that with spi'tuality. We want + it so badly. If some one—” + </p> + <p> + She became daring. She bit her under lip and flashed her spirit at him. + </p> + <p> + “If you—” she said and paused. + </p> + <p> + “Could think aloud,” said the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, nodding rapidly, and became breathless to hear. + </p> + <p> + It would certainly be an astonishing end to the Chasters difficulty if the + bishop went over to the heretic, the bishop reflected. + </p> + <p> + “My dear lady, I won't disguise,” he began; “in fact I don't see how I + could, that for some years I have been growing more and more discontented + with some of our most fundamental formulae. But it's been very largely a + shapeless discontent—hitherto. I don't think I've said a word to a + single soul. No, not a word. You are the first person to whom I've ever + made the admission that even my feelings are at times unorthodox.” + </p> + <p> + She lit up marvellously at his words. “Go on,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + But she did not need to tell him to go on. Now that he had once broached + the casket of his reserves he was only too glad of a listener. He talked + as if they were intimate and loving friends, and so it seemed to both of + them they were. It was a wonderful release from a long and painful + solitude. + </p> + <p> + To certain types it is never quite clear what has happened to them until + they tell it. So that now the bishop, punctuated very prettily by Lady + Sunderbund, began to measure for the first time the extent of his + departure from the old innate convictions of Otteringham Rectory. He said + that it was strange to find doubt coming so late in life, but perhaps it + was only in recent years that his faith had been put to any really severe + tests. It had been sheltered and unchallenged. + </p> + <p> + “This fearful wa',” Lady Sunderbund interjected. + </p> + <p> + But Princhester had been a critical and trying change, and “The Light + under the Altar” case had ploughed him deeply. It was curious that his + doubts always seemed to have a double strand; there was a moral objection + based on the church's practical futility and an intellectual strand + subordinated to this which traced that futility largely to its + unconvincing formulae. + </p> + <p> + “And yet you know,” said the bishop, “I find I can't go with Chasters. He + beats at the church; he treats her as though she were wrong. I feel like a + son, growing up, who finds his mother isn't quite so clear-spoken nor + quite so energetic as she seemed to be once. She's right, I feel sure. + I've never doubted her fundamental goodness.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Lady Sunderbund, very eagerly, “yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet there's this futility.... You know, my dear lady, I don't know + what to do. One feels on the one hand, that here is a cloud of witnesses, + great men, sainted men, subtle men, figures permanently historical, before + whom one can do nothing but bow down in the utmost humility, here is a + great instrument and organization—what would the world be without + the witness of the church?—and on the other hand here are our masses + out of hand and hostile, our industrial leaders equally hostile; there is + a failure to grip, and that failure to grip is so clearly traceable to the + fact that our ideas are not modern ideas, that when we come to profess our + faith we find nothing in our mouths but antiquated Alexandrian subtleties + and phrases and ideas that may have been quite alive, quite significant, + quite adequate in Asia Minor or Egypt, among men essentially orientals, + fifteen hundred years ago, but which now—” + </p> + <p> + He expressed just what they came to now by a gesture. + </p> + <p> + She echoed his gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Probably I'm not alone among my brethren,” he went on, and then: “But + what is one to do?” + </p> + <p> + With her hands she acted her sense of his difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “One may be precipitate,” he said. “There's a kind of loyalty and + discipline that requires one to keep the ranks until one's course of + action is perfectly clear. One owes so much to so many. One has to + consider how one may affect—oh! people one has never seen.” + </p> + <p> + He was lugging things now into speech that so far had been scarcely above + the threshold of his conscious thought. He went on to discuss the entire + position of the disbelieving cleric. He discovered a fine point. + </p> + <p> + “If there was something else, an alternative, another religion, another + Church, to which one could go, the whole case would be different. But to + go from the church to nothingness isn't to go from falsehood to truth. + It's to go from truth, rather badly expressed, rather conservatively + hidden by its protections, truth in an antiquated costume, to the blackest + lie—in the world.” + </p> + <p> + She took that point very brightly. + </p> + <p> + “One must hold fast to 'iligion,” she said, and looked earnestly at him + and gripped fiercely, pink thumbs out, with her beautiful hands held up. + </p> + <p> + That was it, exactly. He too was gripping. But while on the outside the + Midianites of denial were prowling for these clinging souls, within the + camp they were assailed by a meticulous orthodoxy that was only too eager + to cast them forth. The bishop dwelt for a time upon the curious + fierceness orthodoxy would sometimes display. Nowadays atheism can be + civil, can be generous; it is orthodoxy that trails a scurrilous fringe. + </p> + <p> + “Who was that young man with a strong Irish accent—who contradicted + me so suddenly?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “The dark young man?” + </p> + <p> + “The noisy young man.” + </p> + <p> + “That was Mist' Pat'ick O'Go'man. He is a Kelt and all that. Spells + Pat'ick with eva so many letters. You know. They say he spends ouas and + ouas lea'ning E'se. He wo'ies about it. They all t'y to lea'n E'se, and it + wo'ies them and makes them hate England moa and moa.” + </p> + <p> + “He is orthodox. He—is what I call orthodox to the ridiculous + extent.” + </p> + <p> + “'idiculous.” + </p> + <p> + A deep-toned gong proclaimed breakfast over a square mile or so of + territory, and Lady Sunderbund turned about mechanically towards the + house. But they continued their discussion. + </p> + <p> + She started indeed a new topic. “Shall we eva, do 'ou think, have a new + 'iligion—t'ua and betta?” + </p> + <p> + That was a revolutionary idea to him. + </p> + <p> + He was still fending it off from him when a gap in the shrubs brought them + within sight of the house and of Mrs. Garstein Fellows on the portico + waving a handkerchief and crying “Break-fast.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish we could talk for houas,” said Lady Sunderbund. + </p> + <p> + “I've been glad of this talk,” said the bishop. “Very glad.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted her soft abundant skirts and trotted briskly across the still + dewy lawn towards the house door. The bishop followed gravely and slowly + with his hands behind his back and an unusually peaceful expression upon + his face. He was thinking how rare and precious a thing it is to find + intelligent friendship in women. More particularly when they were + dazzlingly charming and pretty. It was strange, but this was really his + first woman friend. If, as he hoped, she became his friend. + </p> + <p> + Lady Sunderbund entered the breakfast room in a gusty abundance like + Botticelli's Primavera, and kissed Mrs. Garstein Fellows good-morning. She + exhaled a glowing happiness. “He is wondyful,” she panted. “He is most + wondyful.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Hidgeway Kelso?” + </p> + <p> + “No, the dee' bishop! I love him. Are those the little sausages I like? + May I take th'ee? I've been up houas.” + </p> + <p> + The dee' bishop appeared in the sunlit doorway. + </p> + <p> + (5) + </p> + <p> + The bishop felt more contentment in the London train than he had felt for + many weeks. He had taken two decisive and relieving steps. One was that he + had stated his case to another human being, and that a very charming and + sympathetic human being, he was no longer a prey to a current of secret + and concealed thoughts running counter to all the appearances of his + outward life; and the other was that he was now within an hour or so of + Brighton-Pomfrey and a cigarette. He would lunch on the train, get to + London about two, take a taxi at once to the wise old doctor, catch him + over his coffee in a charitable and understanding mood, and perhaps be + smoking a cigarette publicly and honourably and altogether satisfyingly + before three. + </p> + <p> + So far as Brighton-Pomfrey's door this program was fulfilled without a + hitch. The day was fine and he had his taxi opened, and noted with a + patriotic satisfaction as he rattled through the streets, the glare of the + recruiting posters on every vacant piece of wall and the increasing number + of men in khaki in the streets. But at the door he had a disappointment. + Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey was away at the front—of all places; he had + gone for some weeks; would the bishop like to see Dr. Dale? + </p> + <p> + The bishop hesitated. He had never set eyes on this Dr. Dale. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, he had never heard of Dr. Dale. + </p> + <p> + Seeing his old friend Brighton-Pomfrey and being gently and tactfully told + to do exactly what he was longing to do was one thing; facing some strange + doctor and going slowly and elaborately through the whole story of his + illness, his vow and his breakdown, and perhaps having his reaction time + tested and all sorts of stripping and soundings done, was quite another. + He was within an ace of turning away. + </p> + <p> + If he had turned away his whole subsequent life would have been different. + It was the very slightest thing in the world tipped the beam. It was the + thought that, after all, whatever inconvenience and unpleasantness there + might be in this interview, there was at the end of it a very reasonable + prospect of a restored and legitimate cigarette. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THE FIFTH - THE FIRST VISION + </h2> + <h3> + (1) + </h3> + <p> + Dr. DALE exceeded the bishop's worst apprehensions. He was a lean, lank, + dark young man with long black hair and irregular, rather prolonged + features; his chin was right over to the left; he looked constantly at the + bishop's face with a distinctly sceptical grey eye; he could not have + looked harder if he had been a photographer or a portrait painter. And his + voice was harsh, and the bishop was particularly sensitive to voices. + </p> + <p> + He began by understanding far too much of the bishop's illness, and he + insisted on various familiarities with the bishop's heart and tongue and + eye and knee that ruffled the bishop's soul. + </p> + <p> + “Brighton-Pomfrey talked of neurasthenia?” he asked. “That was his + diagnosis,” said the bishop. “Neurasthenia,” said the young man as though + he despised the word. + </p> + <p> + The bishop went on buttoning up his coat. + </p> + <p> + “You don't of course want to break your vows about drinking and smoking,” + said the young man with the very faintest suggestion of derision in his + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Not if it can possibly be avoided,” the bishop asserted. “Without a loss, + that is, of practical efficiency,” he added. “For I have much to do.” + </p> + <p> + “I think that it is possible to keep your vow,” said the young man, and + the bishop could have sworn at him. “I think we can manage that all + right.” + </p> + <p> + (2) + </p> + <p> + The bishop sat at the table resting his arm upon it and awaiting the next + development of this unsatisfactory interview. He was on the verge of + asking as unpleasantly as possible when Brighton-Pomfrey would return. + </p> + <p> + The young man stood upon Brighton-Pomfrey's hearth-rug and was evidently + contemplating dissertations. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he said, as though he discussed a problem with himself, “you + must have some sort of comfort. You must get out of this state, one way or + another.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop nodded assent. He had faint hopes of this young man's ideas of + comfort. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Dale reflected. Then he went off away from the question of comfort + altogether. “You see, the trouble in such a case as this is peculiarly + difficult to trace to its sources because it comes just upon the + border-line of bodily and mental things. You may take a drug or alter your + regimen and it disturbs your thoughts, you may take an idea and it + disturbs your health. It is easy enough to say, as some do, that all ideas + have a physical substratum; it is almost as easy to say with the Christian + Scientist that all bodily states are amenable to our ideas. The truth + doesn't, I think, follow the border between those opposite opinions very + exactly on either side. I can't, for instance, tell you to go home and + pray against these uncertainties and despairs, because it is just these + uncertainties and despairs that rob you of the power of efficient prayer.” + </p> + <p> + He did not seem to expect anything from the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see that because a case brings one suddenly right up against the + frontier of metaphysics, why a doctor should necessarily pull up short at + that, why one shouldn't go on into either metaphysics or psychology if + such an extension is necessary for the understanding of the case. At any + rate if you'll permit it in this consultation....” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said the bishop, holding on to that promise of comfort. “The best + thing is to thrash out the case in your own way. And then come to what is + practical.” + </p> + <p> + “What is really the matter here—the matter with you that is—is + a disorganization of your tests of reality. It's one of a group of states + hitherto confused. Neurasthenia, that comprehensive phrase—well, it + is one of the neurasthenias. Here, I confess, I begin to talk of work I am + doing, work still to be published, finished first and then published.... + But I go off from the idea that every living being lives in a state not + differing essentially from a state of hallucination concerning the things + about it. Truth, essential truth, is hidden. Always. Of course there must + be a measure of truth in our working illusions, a working measure of + truth, or the creature would smash itself up and end itself, but beyond + that discretion of the fire and the pitfall lies a wide margin of error + about which we may be deceived for years. So long as it doesn't matter, it + doesn't matter. I don't know if I make myself clear.” + </p> + <p> + “I follow you,” said the bishop a little wearily, “I follow you. Phenomena + and noumena and so on and so on. Kant and so forth. Pragmatism. Yes.” + </p> + <p> + With a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “And all that,” completed Dr. Dale in a voice that suggested mockery. “But + you see we grow into a way of life, we settle down among habits and + conventions, we say 'This is all right' and 'That is always so.' We get + more and more settled into our life as a whole and more and more + confident. Unless something happens to shake us out of our sphere of + illusion. That may be some violent contradictory fact, some accident, or + it may be some subtle change in one's health and nerves that makes us feel + doubtful. Or a change of habits. Or, as I believe, some subtle quickening + of the critical faculty. Then suddenly comes the feeling as though we were + lost in a strange world, as though we had never really seen the world + before.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. + </p> + <p> + The bishop was reluctantly interested. “That does describe something—of + the mental side,” he admitted. “I never believe in concealing my own + thoughts from an intelligent patient,” said Dr. Dale, with a quiet + offensiveness. “That sort of thing belongs to the dark ages of the + 'pothecary's art. I will tell you exactly my guesses and suppositions + about you. At the base of it all is a slight and subtle kidney trouble, + due I suggest to your going to Princhester and drinking the local water—” + </p> + <p> + “But it's excellent water. They boast of it.” + </p> + <p> + “By all the established tests. As a matter of fact many of our best + drinking waters have all sorts of unspecified qualities. Burton water, for + example, is radioactive by Beetham's standards up to the ninth degree. But + that is by the way. My theory about your case is that this produced a + change in your blood, that quickened your sensibilities and your critical + faculties just at a time when a good many bothers—I don't of course + know what they were, but I can, so to speak, see the marks all over you—came + into your life.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You were uprooted. You moved from house to house, and failed to get that + curled up safe feeling one has in a real home in any of them.” + </p> + <p> + “If you saw the fireplaces and the general decoration of the new palace!” + admitted the bishop. “I had practically no control.” + </p> + <p> + “That confirms me,” said Dr. Dale. “Insomnia followed, and increased the + feeling of physical strangeness by increasing the bodily disturbance. I + suspect an intellectual disturbance.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. + </p> + <p> + “There was,” said the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “You were no longer at home anywhere. You were no longer at home in your + diocese, in your palace, in your body, in your convictions. And then came + the war. Quite apart from everything else the mind of the whole world is + suffering profoundly from the shock of this war—much more than is + generally admitted. One thing you did that you probably did not observe + yourself doing, you drank rather more at your meals, you smoked a lot + more. That was your natural and proper response to the shock.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said the bishop, and brightened up. + </p> + <p> + “It was remarked by Tolstoy, I think, that few intellectual men would + really tolerate the world as it is if it were not for smoking and + drinking. Even novelists have their moments of lucidity. Certainly these + things soothe the restlessness in men's minds, deaden their sceptical + sensibilities. And just at the time when you were getting most dislodged—you + gave them up.” + </p> + <p> + “And the sooner I go back to them the better,” said the bishop brightly. + “I quite see that.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't say that,” said Dr. Dale.... + </p> + <p> + (3) + </p> + <p> + “That,” said Dr. Dale, “is just where my treatment of this case differs + from the treatment of “—he spoke the name reluctantly as if he + disliked the mere sound of it—“Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey.” + </p> + <p> + “Hitherto, of course,” said the bishop, “I've been in his hands.” + </p> + <p> + “He,” said Dr. Dale, “would certainly set about trying to restore your old + sphere of illusion, your old familiar sensations and ideas and + confidences. He would in fact turn you back. He would restore all your + habits. He would order you a rest. He would send you off to some holiday + resort, fresh in fact but familiar in character, the High lands, North + Italy, or Switzerland for example. He would forbid you newspapers and + order you to botanize and prescribe tranquillizing reading; Trollope's + novels, the Life of Gladstone, the works of Mr. A. C. Benson, memoirs and + so on. You'd go somewhere where there was a good Anglican chaplain, and + you'd take some of the services yourself. And we'd wash out the effects of + the Princhester water with Contrexeville, and afterwards put you on + Salutaris or Perrier. I don't know whether I shouldn't have inclined to + some such treatment before the war began. Only—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. + </p> + <p> + “You think—?” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Dale's face betrayed a sudden sombre passion. “It won't do now,” he + said in a voice of quiet intensity. “It won't do now.” + </p> + <p> + He remained darkly silent for so long that at last the bishop spoke. “Then + what,” he asked, “do you suggest? + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we don't try to go back,” said Dr. Dale. “Suppose we go on and go + through.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “To reality. + </p> + <p> + “I know it's doubtful, I know it's dangerous,” he went on, “but I am + convinced that now we can no longer keep men's minds and souls in these + feathered nests, these spheres of illusion. Behind these veils there is + either God or the Darkness.... Why should we not go on?” + </p> + <p> + The bishop was profoundly perplexed. He heard himself speaking. “It would + be unworthy of my cloth,” he was saying. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Dale completed the sentence: “to go back.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me explain a little more,” he said, “what I mean by 'going on.' I + think that this loosening of the ties of association that bind a man to + his everyday life and his everyday self is in nine cases out of ten a + loosening of the ties that bind him to everyday sanity. One common form of + this detachment is the form you have in those cases of people who are + found wandering unaware of their names, unaware of their places of + residence, lost altogether from themselves. They have not only lost their + sense of identity with themselves, but all the circumstances of their + lives have faded out of their minds like an idle story in a book that has + been read and put aside. I have looked into hundreds of such cases. I + don't think that loss of identity is a necessary thing; it's just another + side of the general weakening of the grip upon reality, a kind of anaemia + of the brain so that interest fades and fails. There is no reason why you + should forget a story because you do not believe it—if your brain is + strong enough to hold it. But if your brain is tired and weak, then so + soon as you lose faith in your records, your mind is glad to let them go. + When you see these lost identity people that is always your first + impression, a tired brain that has let go.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop felt extremely like letting go. + </p> + <p> + “But how does this apply to my case?” + </p> + <p> + “I come to that,” said Dr. Dale, holding up a long large hand. “What if we + treat this case of yours in a new way? What if we give you not narcotics + but stimulants and tonics? What if we so touch the blood that we increase + your sense of physical detachment while at the same time feeding up your + senses to a new and more vivid apprehension of things about you?” He + looked at his patient's hesitation and added: “You'd lose all that craving + feeling, that you fancy at present is just the need of a smoke. The world + might grow a trifle—transparent, but you'd keep real. Instead of + drugging oneself back to the old contentment—” + </p> + <p> + “You'd drug me on to the new,” said the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “But just one word more!” said Dr. Dale. “Hear why I would do this! It was + easy and successful to rest and drug people back to their old states of + mind when the world wasn't changing, wasn't spinning round in the wildest + tornado of change that it has ever been in. But now—Where can I send + you for a rest? Where can I send you to get you out of sight and hearing + of the Catastrophe? Of course old Brighton-Pomfrey would go on sending + people away for rest and a nice little soothing change if the Day of + Judgment was coming in the sky and the earth was opening and the sea was + giving up its dead. He'd send 'em to the seaside. Such things as that + wouldn't shake his faith in the Channel crossing. My idea is that it's not + only right for you to go through with this, but that it's the only thing + to do. If you go right on and right through with these doubts and + intimations—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. + </p> + <p> + “You may die like a madman,” he said, “but you won't die like a tame + rabbit.” + </p> + <p> + (4) + </p> + <p> + The bishop sat reflecting. What fascinated and attracted him was the + ending of all the cravings and uneasinesses and restlessness that had + distressed his life for over four years; what deterred him was the + personality of this gaunt young man with his long grey face, his excited + manner, his shock of black hair. He wanted that tonic—with grave + misgivings. “If you think this tonic is the wiser course,” he began. “I'd + give it you if you were my father,” said Dr. Dale. “I've got everything + for it,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “You mean you can make it up—without a prescription.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't give you a prescription. The essence of it—It's a + distillate I have been trying. It isn't in the Pharmacopeia.” + </p> + <p> + Again the bishop had a twinge of misgiving. + </p> + <p> + But in the end he succumbed. He didn't want to take the stuff, but also he + did not want to go without his promised comfort. + </p> + <p> + Presently Dale had given him a little phial—and was holding up to + the window a small medicine glass into which he was pouring very carefully + twenty drops of the precious fluid. “Take it only,” he said, “when you + feel you must.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the most golden of liquids,” said the bishop, peering at it. + </p> + <p> + “When you want more I will make you more. Later of course, it will be + possible to write a prescription. Now add the water—so. + </p> + <p> + “It becomes opalescent. How beautifully the light plays in it! + </p> + <p> + “Take it.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop dismissed his last discretion and drank. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Dr. Dale. + </p> + <p> + “I am still here,” said the bishop, smiling, and feeling a joyous tingling + throughout his body. “It stirs me.” + </p> + <p> + (5) + </p> + <p> + The bishop stood on the pavement outside Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey's house. The + massive door had closed behind him. + </p> + <p> + It had been an act of courage, of rashness if you will, to take this + draught. He was acutely introspective, ready for anything, for the most + disagreeable or the most bizarre sensations. He was asking himself, Were + his feet steady? Was his head swimming? + </p> + <p> + His doubts glowed into assurance. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he perceived that he was sure of God. + </p> + <p> + Not perhaps of the God of Nicaea, but what did these poor little + quibblings and definitions of the theologians matter? He had been worrying + about these definitions and quibblings for four long restless years. Now + they were just failures to express—what surely every one knew—and + no one would ever express exactly. Because here was God, and the kingdom + of God was manifestly at hand. The visible world hung before him as a mist + might hang before the rising sun. He stood proudly and masterfully facing + a universe that had heretofore bullied him into doubt and apologetics, a + universe that had hitherto been opaque and was now betrayed translucent. + </p> + <p> + That was the first effect of the new tonic, complete reassurance, complete + courage. He turned to walk towards Mount Street and Berkeley Square as a + sultan might turn to walk among his slaves. + </p> + <p> + But the tonic was only beginning. + </p> + <p> + Before he had gone a dozen steps he was aware that he seemed more solid + and larger than the people about him. They had all a curious miniature + effect, as though he was looking at them through the wrong end of an opera + glass. The houses on either side of the street and the traffic shared this + quality in an equal measure. It was as if he was looking at the world + through apertures in a miniature cinematograph peep-show. This surprised + him and a little dashed his first glow of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + He passed a man in khaki who, he fancied, looked at him with an odd + expression. He observed the next passers-by narrowly and suspiciously, a + couple of smartish young men, a lady with a poodle, a grocer's boy with a + basket, but none seemed to observe anything remarkable about him. Then he + caught the eye of a taxi-driver and became doubtful again. + </p> + <p> + He had a feeling that this tonic was still coming in like a tide. It + seemed to be filling him and distending him, in spite of the fact that he + was already full. After four years of flaccidity it was pleasant to be + distended again, but already he felt more filled than he had ever been + before. At present nothing was showing, but all his body seemed braced and + uplifted. He must be careful not to become inflated in his bearing. + </p> + <p> + And yet it was difficult not to betray a little inflation. He was so + filled with assurance that things were right with him and that God was + there with him. After all it was not mere fancy; he was looking through + the peepholes of his eyes at the world of illusion and appearance. The + world that was so intent upon its immediate business, so regardless of + eternal things, that had so dominated him but a little while ago, was + after all a thing more mortal than himself. + </p> + <p> + Another man in khaki passed him. + </p> + <p> + For the first time he saw the war as something measurable, as something + with a beginning and an end, as something less than the immortal spirit in + man. He had been too much oppressed by it. He perceived all these people + in the street were too much oppressed by it. He wanted to tell them as + much, tell them that all was well with them, bid them be of good cheer. He + wanted to bless them. He found his arm floating up towards gestures of + benediction. Self-control became increasingly difficult. + </p> + <p> + All the way down Berkeley Square the bishop was in full-bodied struggle + with himself. He was trying to control himself, trying to keep within + bounds. He felt that he was stepping too high, that his feet were not + properly reaching the ground, that he was walking upon cushions of air. + </p> + <p> + The feeling of largeness increased, and the feeling of transparency in + things about him. He avoided collision with passers-by—excessively. + And he felt his attention was being drawn more and more to something that + was going on beyond the veil of visible things. He was in Piccadilly now, + but at the same time Piccadilly was very small and he was walking in the + presence of God. + </p> + <p> + He had a feeling that God was there though he could not see him. And at + the same time he was in this transitory world, with people going to and + fro, men with umbrellas tucked dangerously under their arms, men in a + hurry, policemen, young women rattling Red Cross collecting boxes, smart + people, loafers. They distracted one from God. + </p> + <p> + He set out to cross the road just opposite Prince's, and jumping + needlessly to give way to an omnibus had the narrowest escape from a + taxicab. + </p> + <p> + He paused on the pavement edge to recover himself. The shock of his near + escape had, as people say, pulled him together. + </p> + <p> + What was he to do? Manifestly this opalescent draught was overpowering + him. He ought never to have taken it. He ought to have listened to the + voice of his misgivings. It was clear that he was not in a fit state to + walk about the streets. He was—what had been Dr. Dale's term?—losing + his sense of reality. What was he to do? He was alarmed but not dismayed. + His thoughts were as full-bodied as the rest of his being, they came + throbbing and bumping into his mind. What was he to do? + </p> + <p> + Brighton-Pomfrey ought never to have left his practice in the hands of + this wild-eyed experimenter. + </p> + <p> + Strange that after a lifetime of discretion and men's respect one should + be standing on the Piccadilly pavement—intoxicated! + </p> + <p> + It came into his head that he was not so very far from the Athenaeum, and + surely there if anywhere a bishop may recover his sense of being—ordinary. + </p> + <p> + And behind everything, behind the tall buildings and the swarming people + there was still the sense of a wide illuminated space, of a light of + wonder and a Presence. But he must not give way to that again! He had + already given way altogether too much. He repeated to himself in a + whisper, “I am in Piccadilly.” + </p> + <p> + If he kept tight hold upon himself he felt he might get to the Athenaeum + before—before anything more happened. + </p> + <p> + He murmured directions to himself. “Keep along the pavement. Turn to the + right at the Circus. Now down the hill. Easily down the hill. Don't float! + Junior Army and Navy Stores. And the bookseller.” + </p> + <p> + And presently he had a doubt of his name and began to repeat it. + </p> + <p> + “Edward Princhester. Edward Scrope, Lord Bishop of Princhester.” + </p> + <p> + And all the while voices within him were asserting, “You are in the + kingdom of Heaven. You are in the presence of God. Place and time are a + texture of illusion and dreamland. Even now, you are with God.” + </p> + <p> + (6) + </p> + <p> + The porter of the Athenaeum saw him come in, looking well—flushed + indeed—but queer in expression; his blue eyes were wide open and + unusually vague and blue. + </p> + <p> + He wandered across towards the dining-room, hesitated, went to look at the + news, seemed in doubt whether he would not go into the smoking-room, and + then went very slowly upstairs, past the golden angel up to the great + drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + In the drawing-room he found only Sir James Mounce, the man who knew the + novels of Sir Walter Scott by heart and had the minutest and most + unsparing knowledge of every detail in the life of that supreme giant of + English literature. He had even, it was said, acquired a Scotch burr in + the enthusiasm of his hero-worship. It was usually sufficient only to turn + an ear towards him for him to talk for an hour or so. He was now studying + Bradshaw. + </p> + <p> + The bishop snatched at him desperately. He felt that if he went away there + would be no hold left upon the ordinary things of life. + </p> + <p> + “Sir James,” he said, “I was wondering the other day when was the exact + date of the earliest public ascription of Waverley to Scott.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh!” said Sir James, “but I'd like to talk that over with ye. Indeed I + would. It would be depending very largely on what ye called 'public.' But—” + </p> + <p> + He explained something about an engagement in Birmingham that night, a + train to catch. Reluctantly but relentlessly he abandoned the proffered + ear. But he promised that the next time they met in the club he would go + into the matter “exhausteevely.” + </p> + <p> + The door closed upon him. The bishop was alone. He was flooded with the + light of the world that is beyond this world. The things about him became + very small and indistinct. + </p> + <p> + He would take himself into a quiet corner in the library of this doll's + house, and sit his little body down in one of the miniature armchairs. + Then if he was going to faint or if the trancelike feeling was to become + altogether a trance—well, a bishop asleep in an armchair in the + library of the Athenaeum is nothing to startle any one. + </p> + <p> + He thought of that convenient hidden room, the North Library, in which is + the bust of Croker. There often one can be quite alone.... It was empty, + and he went across to the window that looks out upon Pall Mall and sat + down in the little uncomfortable easy chair by the desk with its back to + the Benvenuto Cellini. + </p> + <p> + And as he sat down, something snapped—like the snapping of a lute + string—in his brain. + </p> + <p> + (7) + </p> + <p> + With a sigh of deep relief the bishop realized that this world had + vanished. + </p> + <p> + He was in a golden light. + </p> + <p> + He perceived it as a place, but it was a place without buildings or trees + or any very definite features. There was a cloudy suggestion of distant + hills, and beneath his feet were little gem-like flowers, and a feeling of + divinity and infinite friendliness pervaded his being. His impressions + grew more definite. His feet seemed to be bare. He was no longer a bishop + nor clad as a bishop. That had gone with the rest of the world. He was + seated on a slab of starry rock. + </p> + <p> + This he knew quite clearly was the place of God. + </p> + <p> + He was unable to disentangle thoughts from words. He seemed to be speaking + in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “I have been very foolish and confused and perplexed. I have been like a + creature caught among thorns.” + </p> + <p> + “You served the purpose of God among those thorns.” It seemed to him at + first that the answer also was among his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “I seemed so silly and so little. My wits were clay.” + </p> + <p> + “Clay full of desires.” + </p> + <p> + “Such desires!” + </p> + <p> + “Blind desires. That will presently come to the light.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall we come to the light?” + </p> + <p> + “But here it is, and you see it!” + </p> + <p> + (8) + </p> + <p> + It became clearer in the mind of the bishop that a figure sat beside him, + a figure of great strength and beauty, with a smiling face and kindly + eyes. A strange thought and a strange courage came to the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” he whispered, “are you God?” + </p> + <p> + “I am the Angel of God.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop thought over that for some moments. + </p> + <p> + “I want,” he said, “to know about God. + </p> + <p> + “I want,” he said, with a deepening passion of the soul, “to know about + God. Slowly through four long years I have been awakening to the need of + God. Body and soul I am sick for the want of God and the knowledge of God. + I did not know what was the matter with me, why my life had become so + disordered and confused that my very appetites and habits are all astray. + But I am perishing for God as a waterless man upon a raft perishes for + drink, and there is nothing but madness if I touch the seas about me. Not + only in my thoughts but in my under thoughts and in my nerves and bones + and arteries I have need of God. You see I grew up in the delusion that I + knew God, I did not know that I was unprovisioned and unprovided against + the tests and strains and hardships of life. I thought that I was secure + and safe. I was told that we men—who were apes not a quarter of a + million years ago, who still have hair upon our arms and ape's teeth in + our jaws—had come to the full and perfect knowledge of God. It was + all put into a creed. Not a word of it was to be altered, not a sentence + was to be doubted any more. They made me a teacher of this creed. They + seemed to explain it to me. And when I came to look into it, when my need + came and I turned to my creed, it was old and shrivelled up, it was the + patched-up speculations of vanished Greeks and Egyptians, it was a mummy + of ancient disputes, old and dry, that fell to dust as I unwrapped it. And + I was dressed up in the dress of old dead times and put before an altar of + forgotten sacrifices, and I went through ceremonies as old as the first + seedtime; and suddenly I knew clearly that God was not there, God was not + in my Creed, not in my cathedral, not in my ceremonies, nowhere in my + life. And at the same time I knew, I knew as I had never known before, + that certainly there was God.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. “Tell me,” said the friend at his side; “tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “It was as if a child running beside its mother, looked up and saw that he + had never seen her face before, that she was not his mother, and that the + words he had seemed to understand were—now that he listened—words + in an unknown tongue. + </p> + <p> + “You see, I am but a common sort of man, dear God; I have neither lived + nor thought in any way greatly, I have gone from one day to the next day + without looking very much farther than the end of the day, I have gone on + as life has befallen; if no great trouble had come into my life, so I + should have lived to the end of my days. But life which began for me + easily and safely has become constantly more difficult and strange. I + could have held my services and given my benedictions, I could have + believed I believed in what I thought I believed.... But now I am lost and + astray—crying out for God....” + </p> + <p> + (9) + </p> + <p> + “Let us talk a little about your troubles,” said the Angel. “Let us talk + about God and this creed that worries you and this church of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel as though I had been struggling to this talk through all the years—since + my doubts began.” + </p> + <p> + “The story your Creed is trying to tell is much the same story that all + religions try to tell. In your heart there is God, beyond the stars there + is God. Is it the same God?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “Does any one know?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I knew.” + </p> + <p> + “Your creed is full of Levantine phrases and images, full of the patched + contradictions of the human intelligence utterly puzzled. It is about + those two Gods, the God beyond the stars and the God in your heart. It + says that they are the same God, but different. It says that they have + existed together for all time, and that one is the Son of the other. It + has added a third Person—but we won't go into that.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop was reminded suddenly of the dispute at Mrs. Garstein Fellows'. + “We won't go into that,” he agreed. “No!” + </p> + <p> + “Other religions have told the story in a different way. The Cathars and + Gnostics did. They said that the God in your heart is a rebel against the + God beyond the stars, that the Christ in your heart is like Prometheus—or + Hiawatha—or any other of the sacrificial gods, a rebel. He arises + out of man. He rebels against that high God of the stars and crystals and + poisons and monsters and of the dead emptiness of space.... The Manicheans + and the Persians made out our God to be fighting eternally against that + Being of silence and darkness beyond the stars. The Buddhists made the + Lord Buddha the leader of men out of the futility and confusion of + material existence to the great peace beyond. But it is all one story + really, the story of the two essential Beings, always the same story and + the same perplexity cropping up under different names, the story of one + being who stirs us, calls to us, and leads us, and of another who is above + and outside and in and beneath all things, inaccessible and + incomprehensible. All these religions are trying to tell something they do + not clearly know—of a relationship between these two, that eludes + them, that eludes the human mind, as water escapes from the hand. It is + unity and opposition they have to declare at the same time; it is + agreement and propitiation, it is infinity and effort.” + </p> + <p> + “And the truth?” said the bishop in an eager whisper. “You can tell me the + truth.” + </p> + <p> + The Angel's answer was a gross familiarity. He thrust his hand through the + bishop's hair and ruffled it affectionately, and rested for a moment + holding the bishop's cranium in his great palm. + </p> + <p> + “But can this hold it?” he said.... + </p> + <p> + “Not with this little box of brains,” said the Angel. “You could as soon + make a meal of the stars and pack them into your belly. You haven't the + things to do it with inside this.” + </p> + <p> + He gave the bishop's head a little shake and relinquished it. + </p> + <p> + He began to argue as an elder brother might. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it enough for you to know something of the God that comes down to + the human scale, who has been born on your planet and arisen out of Man, + who is Man and God, your leader? He's more than enough to fill your mind + and use up every faculty of your being. He is courage, he is adventure, he + is the King, he fights for you and with you against death....” + </p> + <p> + “And he is not infinite? He is not the Creator?” asked the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “So far as you are concerned, no,” said the Angel. + </p> + <p> + “So far as I am concerned?” + </p> + <p> + “What have you to do with creation?” + </p> + <p> + And at that question it seemed that a great hand swept carelessly across + the blackness of the farther sky, and smeared it with stars and suns and + shining nebulas as a brush might smear dry paint across a canvas. + </p> + <p> + The bishop stared in front of him. Then slowly he bowed his head, and + covered his face with his hands. + </p> + <p> + “And I have been in orders,” he murmured; “I have been teaching people the + only orthodox and perfect truth about these things for seven and twenty + years.” + </p> + <p> + And suddenly he was back in his gaiters and his apron and his shovel hat, + a little black figure exceedingly small in a very great space.... + </p> + <p> + (10) + </p> + <p> + It was a very great space indeed because it was all space, and the roof + was the ebony of limitless space from which the stars swung flaming, held + by invisible ties, and the soil beneath his feet was a dust of atoms and + the little beginnings of life. And long before the bishop bared his face + again, he knew that he was to see his God. + </p> + <p> + He looked up slowly, fearing to be dazzled. + </p> + <p> + But he was not dazzled. He knew that he saw only the likeness and bodying + forth of a being inconceivable, of One who is greater than the earth and + stars and yet no greater than a man. He saw a being for ever young, for + ever beginning, for ever triumphant. The quality and texture of this being + was a warm and living light like the effulgence at sunrise; He was hope + and courage like a sunlit morning in spring. He was adventure for ever, + and His courage and adventure flowed into and submerged and possessed the + being of the man who beheld him. And this presence of God stood over the + bishop, and seemed to speak to him in a wordless speech. + </p> + <p> + He bade him surrender himself. He bade him come out upon the Adventure of + Life, the great Adventure of the earth that will make the atoms our + bond-slaves and subdue the stars, that will build up the white fires of + ecstasy to submerge pain for ever, that will overcome death. In Him the + spirit of creation had become incarnate, had joined itself to men, + summoning men to Him, having need of them, having need of them, having + need of their service, even as great kings and generals and leaders need + and use men. For a moment, for an endless age, the bishop bowed himself in + the being and glory of God, felt the glow of the divine courage and + confidence in his marrow, felt himself one with God. + </p> + <p> + For a timeless interval.... + </p> + <p> + Never had the bishop had so intense a sense of reality. It seemed that + never before had he known anything real. He knew certainly that God was + his King and master, and that his unworthy service could be acceptable to + God. His mind embraced that idea with an absolute conviction that was also + absolute happiness. + </p> + <p> + (11) + </p> + <p> + The thoughts and sensations of the bishop seemed to have lifted for a time + clean away from the condition of time, and then through a vast orbit to be + returning to that limitation. + </p> + <p> + He was aware presently that things were changing, that the light was + losing its diviner rays, that in some indescribable manner the glory and + the assurance diminished. + </p> + <p> + The onset of the new phase was by imperceptible degrees. From a glowing, + serene, and static realization of God, everything relapsed towards change + and activity. He was in time again and things were happening, it was as if + the quicksands of time poured by him, and it was as if God was passing + away from him. He fell swiftly down from the heaven of self-forgetfulness + to a grotesque, pathetic and earthly self-consciousness. + </p> + <p> + He became acutely aware of his episcopal livery. And that God was passing + away from him. + </p> + <p> + It was as if God was passing, and as if the bishop was unable to rise up + and follow him. + </p> + <p> + Then it was as if God had passed, and as if the bishop was in headlong + pursuit of him and in a great terror lest he should be left behind. And he + was surely being left behind. + </p> + <p> + He discovered that in some unaccountable way his gaiters were loose; most + of their buttons seemed to have flown off, and his episcopal sash had + slipped down about his feet. He was sorely impeded. He kept snatching at + these things as he ran, in clumsy attempts to get them off. + </p> + <p> + At last he had to stop altogether and kneel down and fumble with the last + obstinate button. + </p> + <p> + “Oh God!” he cried, “God my captain! Wait for me! Be patient with me!” + </p> + <p> + And as he did so God turned back and reached out his hand. It was indeed + as if he stood and smiled. He stood and smiled as a kind man might do; he + dazzled and blinded his worshipper, and yet it was manifest that he had a + hand a man might clasp. + </p> + <p> + Unspeakable love and joy irradiated the whole being of the bishop as he + seized God's hand and clasped it desperately with both his own. It was as + if his nerves and arteries and all his substance were inundated with + golden light.... + </p> + <p> + It was again as if he merged with God and became God.... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THE SIXTH - EXEGETICAL + </h2> + <h3> + (1) + </h3> + <p> + WITHOUT any sense of transition the bishop found himself seated in the + little North Library of the Athenaeum club and staring at the bust of John + Wilson Croker. He was sitting motionless and musing deeply. He was + questioning with a cool and steady mind whether he had seen a vision or + whether he had had a dream. If it had been a dream it had been an + extraordinarily vivid and convincing dream. He still seemed to be in the + presence of God, and it perplexed him not at all that he should also be in + the presence of Croker. The feeling of mental rottenness and insecurity + that had weakened his thought through the period of his illness, had gone. + He was secure again within himself. + </p> + <p> + It did not seem to matter fundamentally whether it was an experience of + things without or of things within him that had happened to him. It was + clear to him that much that he had seen was at most expressive, that some + was altogether symbolical. For example, there was that sudden absurd + realization of his sash and gaiters, and his perception of them as + encumbrances in his pursuit of God. But the setting and essential of the + whole thing remained in his mind neither expressive nor symbolical, but as + real and immediately perceived, and that was the presence and kingship of + God. God was still with him and about him and over him and sustaining him. + He was back again in his world and his ordinary life, in his clothing and + his body and his club, but God had been made and remained altogether plain + and manifest. + </p> + <p> + Whether an actual vision had made his conviction, or whether the + conviction of his own subconscious mind had made the dream, seemed but a + small matter beside the conviction that this was indeed the God he had + desired and the God who must rule his life. + </p> + <p> + “The stuff? The stuff had little to do with it. It just cleared my + head.... I have seen. I have seen really. I know.” + </p> + <p> + (2) + </p> + <p> + For a long time as it seemed the bishop remained wrapped in clouds of + luminous meditation. Dream or vision it did not matter; the essential + thing was that he had made up his mind about God, he had found God. + Moreover, he perceived that his theological perplexities had gone. God was + higher and simpler and nearer than any theological God, than the God of + the Three Creeds. Those creeds lay about in his mind now like garments + flung aside, no trace nor suspicion of divinity sustained them any longer. + And now—Now he would go out into the world. + </p> + <p> + The little Library of the Athenaeum has no visible door. He went to the + book-masked entrance in the corner, and felt among the bookshelves for the + hidden latch. Then he paused, held by a curious thought. What exactly was + the intention of that symbolical struggle with his sash and gaiters, and + why had they impeded his pursuit of God? + </p> + <p> + To what particularly significant action was he going out? + </p> + <p> + The Three Creeds were like garments flung aside. But he was still wearing + the uniform of a priest in the service of those three creeds. + </p> + <p> + After a long interval he walked into the big reading-room. He ordered some + tea and dry toast and butter, and sat down very thoughtfully in a corner. + He was still sitting and thinking at half-past eight. + </p> + <p> + It may seem strange to the reader that this bishop who had been doubting + and criticizing the church and his system of beliefs for four long years + had never before faced the possibility of a severance from his + ecclesiastical dignity. But he had grown up in the church, his life had + been so entirely clerical and Anglican, that the widest separation he had + hitherto been able to imagine from this past had left him still a bishop, + heretical perhaps, innovating in the broadening of beliefs and the + liberalizing of practice, defensive even as Chasters was defensive, but + still with the palace and his dignities, differing in opinion rather than + in any tangible reality from his previous self. For a bishop, disbelief in + the Church is a far profounder scepticism than mere disbelief in God. God + is unseen, and in daily things unfelt; but the Church is with the + predestined bishop always. His concept of the extremest possible departure + from orthodoxy had been something that Chasters had phrased as “a + restatement of Christ.” It was a new idea, an idea that had come with an + immense effect of severance and novelty, that God could be other than the + God of the Creed, could present himself to the imagination as a figure + totally unlike the white, gentle, and compromising Redeemer of an + Anglican's thought. That the bishop should treat the whole teaching of the + church and the church itself as wrong, was an idea so new that it fell + upon him now like a thunderbolt out of a cloudless sky. But here, clear in + his mind now, was a feeling, amounting to conviction, that it was the + purpose and gesture of the true God that he should come right out of the + church and all his professions. + </p> + <p> + And in the first glow of his vision he felt this gesture imperative. He + must step right out.... Whither? how? And when? + </p> + <p> + To begin with it seemed to him that an immediate renunciation was + demanded. But it was a momentous step. He wanted to think. And to go on + thinking. Rather than to act precipitately. Although the imperative seemed + absolute, some delaying and arresting instinct insisted that he must + “think” If he went back to Princhester, the everyday duties of his + position would confront him at once with an effect of a definite + challenge. He decided to take one of the Reform club bedrooms for two or + three days, and wire to Princhester that he was “unavoidably delayed in + town,” without further explanations. Then perhaps this inhibitory force + would give way. + </p> + <p> + It did not, however, give way. His mind sat down for two days in a blank + amazement at the course before him, and at the end of that time this + reasonless and formless institution was as strong as ever. During that + time, except for some incidental exchanges at his clubs, he talked to no + one. At first he did not want to talk to any one. He remained mentally and + practically active, with a still intensely vivid sense that God, the true + God, stood watching him and waiting for him to follow. And to follow meant + slipping right out of all the world he had ever known. To thrust his foot + right over the edge of a cliff would scarcely have demanded more from the + bishop's store of resolution. He stood on the very verge. The chief + secretion of his mind was a shadowy experiment or so in explanation of why + he did not follow. + </p> + <p> + (3) + </p> + <p> + Insensibly the extreme vividness of his sense of God's nearness decreased. + But he still retained a persuasion of the reality of an immediate listener + waiting, and of the need of satisfying him. + </p> + <p> + On the third day he found his mind still further changed. He no longer + felt that God was in Pall Mall or St. James's Park, whither he resorted to + walk and muse. He felt now that God was somewhere about the horizon.... + </p> + <p> + He felt too no longer that he thought straight into the mind of God. He + thought now of what he would presently say to God. He turned over and + rehearsed phrases. With that came a desire to try them first on some other + hearer. And from that to the attentive head of Lady Sunderbund, prettily + bent towards him, was no great leap. She would understand, if any one + could understand, the great change that had happened in his mind. + </p> + <p> + He found her address in the telephone book. She could be quite alone to + him if he wouldn't mind “just me.” It was, he said, exactly what he + desired. + </p> + <p> + But when he got to her great airy flat overlooking Hyde Park, with its + Omega Workshop furniture and its arresting decoration, he was not so sure + whether this encounter was so exactly the thing he had desired as he had + supposed. + </p> + <p> + The world had become opaque and real again as he walked up St. James's + Street and past the Ritz. He had a feeling that he was taking an afternoon + off from God. The adventurous modernity of the room in which he waited + intensified that. One whole white wall was devoted to a small picture by + Wyndham Lewis. It was like a picture of an earthquake in a city of aniline + pink and grey and keen green cardboard, and he wished it had never + existed. + </p> + <p> + He turned his back upon it and stared out of the window over the trees and + greenery. The balcony was decorated with white and pink geraniums in pots + painted black and gold, and the railings of the balcony were black and + gold with crimson shape like squares wildly out of drawing. + </p> + <p> + Lady Sunderbund kept him waiting perhaps five minutes. Then she came + sailing in to him. + </p> + <p> + She was dressed in a way and moved across the room in a way that was more + reminiscent of Botticelli's Spring than ever—only with a kind of + superadded stiffish polonaise of lace—and he did not want to be + reminded of Botticelli's Spring or wonder why she had taken to stiff lace + polonaises. He did not enquire whether he had met Lady Sunderbund to + better advantage at Mrs. Garstein Fellows' or whether his memory had + overrated her or whether anything had happened to his standard of taste, + but his feeling now was decidedly one of disappointment, and all the talk + and self-examination he had promised himself seemed to wither and hide + away within him. For a time he talked of her view, and then admired her + room and its arrangement, which he thought really were quite unbecomingly + flippant and undignified for a room. Then came the black tea-things on + their orange tray, and he searched in his mind for small talk to sustain + their interview. + </p> + <p> + But he had already betrayed his disposition to “go on with our talk” in + his telephone enquiry, and Lady Sunderbund, perceiving his shyness, began + to make openings for him, at first just little hinting openings, and then + larger and larger ones, until at last one got him. + </p> + <p> + “I'm so glad,” she said, “to see you again. I'm so glad to go on with our + talk. I've thought about it and thought about it.” + </p> + <p> + She beamed at him happily. + </p> + <p> + “I've thought ova ev'y wo'd you said,” she went on, when she had finished + conveying her pretty bliss to him. “I've been so helped by thinking the + k'eeds are symbols. And all you said. And I've felt time after time, you + couldn't stay whe' you we'. That what you we' saying to me, would have to + be said 'ight out.” + </p> + <p> + That brought him in. He could not very well evade that opening without + incivility. After all he had asked to see her, and it was a foolish thing + to let little decorative accidentals put him off his friendly purpose. A + woman may have flower-pots painted gold with black checkers and still be + deeply understanding. He determined to tell her what was in his mind. But + he found something barred him from telling that he had had an actual + vision of God. It was as if that had been a private and confidential + meeting. It wasn't, he felt, for him either to boast a privilege or tell + others of things that God had not chosen to show them. + </p> + <p> + “Since I saw you,” he said, “I have thought a great deal—of the + subject of our conversation.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been t'ying to think,” she said in a confirmatory tone, as if she + had co-operated. + </p> + <p> + “My faith in God grows,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She glowed. Her lips fell apart. She flamed attention. + </p> + <p> + “But it grows less like the faith of the church, less and less. I was born + and trained in Anglicanism, and it is with a sort of astonishment I find + myself passing now out of every sort of Catholicism—seeing it from + the outside....” + </p> + <p> + “Just as one might see Buddhism,” she supplied. + </p> + <p> + “And yet feeling nearer, infinitely nearer to God,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she panted; “yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought if one went out, one went out just to doubt and darkness.” + </p> + <p> + “And you don't?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “You have gone at one step to a new 'iligion!” + </p> + <p> + He stared for a moment at the phrase. + </p> + <p> + “To religion,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It is so wondyful,” she said, with her hands straight down upon the couch + upon which she was sitting, and leaning forward at him, so as to seem + almost as much out of drawing as a modern picture. + </p> + <p> + “It seems,” he reflected; “—as if it were a natural thing.” + </p> + <p> + She came back to earth very slowly. She turned to the tea-things with + hushed and solemn movements as though she administered a ceremony of + peculiar significance. The bishop too rose slowly out of the profundity of + his confession. “No sugar please,” he said, arresting the lump in mid air. + </p> + <p> + It was only when they were embarked upon cups of tea and had a little + refreshed themselves, that she carried the talk further. + </p> + <p> + “Does it mean that you must leave the church?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “It seemed so at first,” he said. “But now I do not know. I do not know + what I ought to do.” + </p> + <p> + She awaited his next thought. + </p> + <p> + “It is as if one had lived in a room all one's life and thought it the + world—and then suddenly walked out through a door and discovered the + sea and the mountains and stars. So it was with me and the Anglican + Church. It seems so extraordinary now—and it would have seemed the + most natural thing a year ago—to think that I ever believed that the + Anglican Compromise was the final truth of religion, that nothing more + until the end of the world could ever be known that Cosmo Gordon Lang did + not know, that there could be no conception of God and his quality that + Randall Davidson did not possess.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. + </p> + <p> + “I did,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I did,” she responded with round blue eyes of wonder. + </p> + <p> + “At the utmost the Church of England is a tabernacle on a road.” + </p> + <p> + “A 'oad that goes whe'?” she rhetorized. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said the bishop, and put down his cup. + </p> + <p> + “You see, my dear Lady Sunderbund,” he resumed, “I am exactly in the same + position of that man at the door.” + </p> + <p> + She quoted aptly and softly: “The wo'ld was all befo' them whe' to + choose.” + </p> + <p> + He was struck by the aptness of the words. + </p> + <p> + “I feel I have to come right out into the bare truth. What exactly then do + I become? Do I lose my priestly function because I discover how great God + is? But what am I to do?” + </p> + <p> + He opened a new layer of his thoughts to her. + </p> + <p> + “There is a saying,” he remarked, “once a priest, always a priest. I + cannot imagine myself as other than what I am.” + </p> + <p> + “But o'thodox no maw,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Orthodox—self-satisfied, no longer. A priest who seeks, an + exploring priest.” + </p> + <p> + “In a Chu'ch of P'og'ess and B'othe'hood,” she carried him on. + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, in a progressive and learning church.” + </p> + <p> + She flashed and glowed assent. + </p> + <p> + “I have been haunted,” he said, “by those words spoken at Athens. 'Whom + therefore ye ignorantly worship, Him declare I unto you.' That comes to me + with an effect of—guidance is an old-fashioned word—shall I + say suggestion? To stand by the altar bearing strange names and ancient + symbols, speaking plainly to all mankind of the one true God—!” + </p> + <p> + (4) + </p> + <p> + He did not get much beyond this point at the time, though he remained + talking with Lady Sunderbund for nearly an hour longer. The rest was + merely a beating out of what had already been said. But insensibly she + renewed her original charm, and as he became accustomed to her he forgot a + certain artificiality in her manner and the extreme modernity of her + costume and furniture. She was a wonderful listener; nobody else could + have helped him to expression in quite the same way, and when he left her + he felt that now he was capable of stating his case in a coherent and + acceptable form to almost any intelligent hearer. He had a point of view + now that was no longer embarrassed by the immediate golden presence of + God; he was no longer dazzled nor ecstatic; his problem had diminished to + the scale of any other great human problem, to the scale of political + problems and problems of integrity and moral principle, problems about + which there is no such urgency as there is about a house on fire, for + example. + </p> + <p> + And now the desire for expression was running strong. He wanted to state + his situation; if he did not state he would have to act; and as he walked + back to the club dinner he turned over possible interlocutors in his + thoughts. Lord Rampound sat with him at dinner, and he came near broaching + the subject with him. But Lord Rampound that evening had that morbid + running of bluish legal anecdotes which is so common an affliction with + lawyers, and theology sinks and dies in that turbid stream. + </p> + <p> + But as he lay in bed that night he thought of his old friend and helper + Bishop Likeman, and it was borne in upon him that he should consult him. + And this he did next day. + </p> + <p> + Since the days when the bishop had been only plain Mr. Scrope, the + youngest and most helpful of Likeman's historical band of curates, their + friendship had continued. Likeman had been a second father to him; in + particular his tact and helpfulness had shone during those days of doubt + and anxiety when dear old Queen Victoria, God's representative on earth, + had obstinately refused, at the eleventh hour, to make him a bishop. She + had those pigheaded fits, and she was touchy about the bishops. She had + liked Scrope on account of the excellence of his German pronunciation, but + she had been irritated by newspaper paragraphs—nobody could ever + find out who wrote them and nobody could ever find out who showed them to + the old lady—anticipating his elevation. She had gone very red in + the face and stiffened in the Guelphic manner whenever Scrope was + mentioned, and so a rich harvest of spiritual life had remained untilled + for some months. Likeman had brought her round. + </p> + <p> + It seemed arguable that Scrope owed some explanation to Likeman before he + came to any open breach with the Establishment. + </p> + <p> + He found Likeman perceptibly older and more shrivelled on account of the + war, but still as sweet and lucid and subtle as ever. His voice sounded + more than ever like a kind old woman's. + </p> + <p> + He sat buried in his cushions—for “nowadays I must save every scrap + of vitality”—and for a time contented himself with drawing out his + visitor's story. + </p> + <p> + Of course, one does not talk to Likeman of visions or intuitions. “I am + disturbed, I find myself getting out of touch;” that was the bishop's + tone. + </p> + <p> + Occasionally Likeman nodded slowly, as a physician might do at the recital + of familiar symptoms. “Yes,” he said, “I have been through most of + this.... A little different in the inessentials.... How clear you are!” + </p> + <p> + “You leave our stupid old Trinities—as I left them long ago,” said + old Likeman, with his lean hand feeling and clawing at the arm of his + chair. + </p> + <p> + “But—!” + </p> + <p> + The old man raised his hand and dropped it. “You go away from it all—straight + as a line. I did. You take the wings of the morning and fly to the + uttermost parts of the earth. And there you find—” + </p> + <p> + He held up a lean finger, and inclined it to tick off each point. + </p> + <p> + “Fate—which is God the Father, the Power of the Heart, which is God + the Son, and that Light which comes in upon us from the inaccessible + Godhead, which is God the Holy Spirit.” + </p> + <p> + “But I know of no God the Holy Spirit, and Fate is not God at all. I saw + in my vision one sole God, uncrucified, militant—conquering and to + conquer.” + </p> + <p> + Old Likeman stared. “You saw!” + </p> + <p> + The Bishop of Princhester had not meant to go so far. But he stuck to his + words. “As if I saw with my eyes. A God of light and courage.” + </p> + <p> + “You have had visions, Scrope?” + </p> + <p> + “I seemed to see.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you have just been dreaming dreams.” + </p> + <p> + “But why should one not see?” + </p> + <p> + “See! The things of the spirit. These symbols as realities! These + metaphors as men walking!” + </p> + <p> + “You talk like an agnostic.” + </p> + <p> + “We are all agnostics. Our creeds are expressions of ourselves and our + attitude and relationship to the unknown. The triune God is just the form + of our need and disposition. I have always assumed that you took that for + granted. Who has ever really seen or heard or felt God? God is neither of + the senses nor of the mind; he is of the soul. You are realistic, you are + materialistic....” + </p> + <p> + His voice expostulated. + </p> + <p> + The Bishop of Princhester reflected. The vision of God was far off among + his memories now, and difficult to recall. But he said at last: “I believe + there is a God and that he is as real a person as you or I. And he is not + the theological God we set out before the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Personification,” said Likeman. “In the eighteenth century they used to + draw beautiful female figures as Science and Mathematics. Young men have + loved Science—and Freedom—as Pygmalion loved Galatea. Have it + so if you will. Have a visible person for your Deity. But let me keep up + my—spirituality.” + </p> + <p> + “Your spirituality seems as thin as a mist. Do you really believe—anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything!” said Likeman emphatically, sitting up with a transitory + vigour. “Everything we two have ever professed together. I believe that + the creeds of my church do express all that can possibly be expressed in + the relationship of—That”—he made a comprehensive gesture with + a twist of his hand upon its wrist—“to the human soul. I believe + that they express it as well as the human mind can express it. Where they + seem to be contradictory or absurd, it is merely that the mystery is + paradoxical. I believe that the story of the Fall and of the Redemption is + a complete symbol, that to add to it or to subtract from it or to alter it + is to diminish its truth; if it seems incredible at this point or that, + then simply I admit my own mental defect. And I believe in our Church, + Scrope, as the embodied truth of religion, the divine instrument in human + affairs. I believe in the security of its tradition, in the complete and + entire soundness of its teaching, in its essential authority and + divinity.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and put his head a little on one side and smiled sweetly. “And + now can you say I do not believe?” + </p> + <p> + “But the historical Christ, the man Jesus?” + </p> + <p> + “A life may be a metaphor. Why not? Yes, I believe it all. All.” + </p> + <p> + The Bishop of Princhester was staggered by this complete acceptance. “I + see you believe all you profess,” he said, and remained for a moment or so + rallying his forces. + </p> + <p> + “Your vision—if it was a vision—I put it to you, was just some + single aspect of divinity,” said Likeman. “We make a mistake in supposing + that Heresy has no truth in it. Most heresies are only a disproportionate + apprehension of some essential truth. Most heretics are men who have + suddenly caught a glimpse through the veil of some particular verity.... + They are dazzled by that aspect. All the rest has vanished.... They are + obsessed. You are obsessed clearly by this discovery of the militancy of + God. God the Son—as Hero. And you want to go out to the simple + worship of that one aspect. You want to go out to a Dissenter's tent in + the wilderness, instead of staying in the Great Temple of the Ages.” + </p> + <p> + Was that true? + </p> + <p> + For some moments it sounded true. + </p> + <p> + The Bishop of Princhester sat frowning and looking at that. Very far away + was the vision now of that golden Captain who bade him come. Then at a + thought the bishop smiled. + </p> + <p> + “The Great Temple of the Ages,” he repeated. “But do you remember the + trouble we had when the little old Queen was so pigheaded?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I remember, I remember,” said Likeman, smiling with unshaken + confidence. “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “For sixty years all we bishops in what you call the Great Temple of the + Ages, were appointed and bullied and kept in our places by that pink + irascible bit of dignity. I remember how at the time I didn't dare betray + my boiling indignation even to you—I scarcely dared admit it to + myself....” + </p> + <p> + He paused. + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't matter at all,” and old Likeman waved it aside. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” he confirmed, waving again. + </p> + <p> + “I spoke of the whole church of Christ on earth,” he went on. “These + things, these Victorias and Edwards and so on, are temporary accidents—just + as the severance of an Anglican from a Roman communion and a Greek + orthodox communion are temporary accidents. You will remark that wise men + in all ages have been able to surmount the difficulty of these things. + Why? Because they knew that in spite of all these splits and + irregularities and defacements—like the cracks and crannies and + lichens on a cathedral wall—the building held good, that it was + shelter and security. There is no other shelter and security. And so I + come to your problem. Suppose it is true that you have this incidental + vision of the militant aspect of God, and he isn't, as you see him now + that is,—he isn't like the Trinity, he isn't like the Creed, he + doesn't seem to be related to the Church, then comes the question, are you + going out for that? And whither do you go if you do go out? The Church + remains. We alter doctrines not by changing the words but by shifting the + accent. We can under-accentuate below the threshold of consciousness.” + </p> + <p> + “But can we?” + </p> + <p> + “We do. Where's Hell now? Eighty years ago it warmed the whole Church. It + was—as some atheist or other put it the other day—the central + heating of the soul. But never mind that point now. Consider the essential + question, the question of breaking with the church. Ask yourself, whither + would you go? To become an oddity! A Dissenter. A Negative. Self + emasculated. The spirit that denies. You would just go out. You would just + cease to serve Religion. That would be all. You wouldn't do anything. The + Church would go on; everything else would go on. Only you would be lost in + the outer wilderness. + </p> + <p> + “But then—” + </p> + <p> + Old Likeman leant forward and pointed a bony finger. “Stay in the Church + and modify it. Bring this new light of yours to the altar.” + </p> + <p> + There was a little pause. + </p> + <p> + “No man,” the bishop thought aloud, “putteth new wine into old bottles.” + </p> + <p> + Old Likeman began to speak and had a fit of coughing. “Some of these texts—whuff, + whuff—like a conjuror's hat—whuff—make 'em—fit + anything.” + </p> + <p> + A man-servant appeared and handed a silver box of lozenges into which the + old bishop dipped with a trembling hand. + </p> + <p> + “Tricks of that sort,” he said, “won't do, Scrope—among + professionals. + </p> + <p> + “And besides,” he was inspired; “true religion is old wine—as old as + the soul. + </p> + <p> + “You are a bishop in the Church of Christ on Earth,” he summed it up. “And + you want to become a detached and wandering Ancient Mariner from your + shipwreck of faith with something to explain—that nobody wants to + hear. You are going out I suppose you have means?” + </p> + <p> + The old man awaited the answer to his abrupt enquiry with a handful of + lozenges. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the Bishop of Princhester, “practically—I haven't.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy!” it was as if they were once more rector and curate. “My + dear brother! do you know what the value of an ex-bishop is in the + ordinary labour market?” + </p> + <p> + “I have never thought of that.” + </p> + <p> + “Evidently. You have a wife and children?” + </p> + <p> + “Five daughters.” + </p> + <p> + “And your wife married you—I remember, she married you soon after + you got that living in St. John's Wood. I suppose she took it for granted + that you were fixed in an ecclesiastical career. That was implicit in the + transaction.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't looked very much at that side of the matter yet,” said the + Bishop of Princhester. + </p> + <p> + “It shouldn't be a decisive factor,” said Bishop Likeman, “not decisive. + But it will weigh. It should weigh....” + </p> + <p> + The old man opened out fresh aspects of the case. His argument was for + delay, for deliberation. He went on to a wider set of considerations. A + man who has held the position of a bishop for some years is, he held, no + longer a free man in matters of opinion. He has become an official part of + a great edifice which supports the faith of multitudes of simple and + dependant believers. He has no right to indulge recklessly in intellectual + and moral integrities. He may understand, but how is the flock to + understand? He may get his own soul clear, but what will happen to them? + He will just break away their supports, astonish them, puzzle them, + distress them, deprive them of confidence, convince them of nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Intellectual egotism may be as grave a sin,” said Bishop Likeman, “as + physical selfishness. + </p> + <p> + “Assuming even that you are absolutely right,” said Bishop Likeman, + “aren't you still rather in the position of a man who insists upon Swedish + exercises and a strengthening dietary on a raft?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you have made out a case for delay,” said his hearer. + </p> + <p> + “Three months.” + </p> + <p> + The Bishop of Princhester conceded three months. + </p> + <p> + “Including every sort of service. Because, after all, even supposing it is + damnable to repeat prayers and creeds you do not believe in, and + administer sacraments you think superstition, nobody can be damned but + yourself. On the other hand if you express doubts that are not yet + perfectly digested—you experiment with the souls of others....” + </p> + <p> + (5) + </p> + <p> + The bishop found much to ponder in his old friend's counsels. They were + discursive and many-fronted, and whenever he seemed to be penetrating or + defeating the particular considerations under examination the others in + the background had a way of appearing invincible. He had a strong + persuasion that Likeman was wrong—and unanswerable. And the true God + now was no more than the memory of a very vividly realized idea. It was + clear to the bishop that he was no longer a churchman or in the generally + accepted sense of the word a Christian, and that he was bound to come out + of the church. But all sense of urgency had gone. It was a matter + demanding deliberation and very great consideration for others. + </p> + <p> + He took no more of Dale's stuff because he felt bodily sound and slept + well. And he was now a little shy of this potent fluid. He went down to + Princhester the next day, for his compromise of an interval of three + months made it seem possible to face his episcopal routine again. It was + only when he was back in his own palace that the full weight of his + domestic responsibilities in the discussion of the course he had to take, + became apparent. + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella met him with affection and solicitude. + </p> + <p> + “I was tired and mentally fagged,” he said. “A day or so in London had an + effect of change.” + </p> + <p> + She agreed that he looked much better, and remained for a moment or so + scrutinizing him with the faint anxiety of one resolved to be completely + helpful. + </p> + <p> + He regarded her with a renewed sense of her grace and dignity and + kindliness. She was wearing a grey dress of soft silky material, touched + with blue and covered with what seemed to him very rich and beautiful + lace; her hair flowed back very graciously from her broad brow, and about + her wrist and neck were delicate lines of gold. She seemed tremendously at + home and right just where she was, in that big hospitable room, cultured + but Anglican, without pretensions or novelties, with a glow of bound + books, with the grand piano that Miriam, his third daughter, was beginning + to play so well, with the tea equipage of shining silver and fine + porcelain. + </p> + <p> + He sat down contentedly in the low armchair beside her. + </p> + <p> + It wasn't a setting that one would rashly destroy.... + </p> + <p> + And that evening at dinner this sense of his home as a complex of finely + adjusted things not to be rashly disturbed was still more in the mind of + the bishop. At dinner he had all his domesticities about him. It was the + family time, from eight until ten, at which latter hour he would usually + go back from the drawing-room to his study. He surveyed the table. Eleanor + was at home for a few days, looking a little thin and bright but very keen + and happy. She had taken a first in the first part of the Moral Science + Tripos, and she was working hard now for part two. Clementina was to go + back to Newnham with her next September. She aspired to history. Miriam's + bent was musical. She and Phoebe and Daphne and Clementina were under the + care of skilful Mademoiselle Lafarge, most tactful of Protestant + French-women, Protestant and yet not too Protestant, one of those rare + French Protestants in whom a touch of Bergson and the Pasteur Monod + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “scarce suspected, animates the whole.” + </pre> + <p> + And also they had lessons, so high are our modern standards of education, + from Mr. Blent, a brilliant young mathematician in orders, who sat now + next to Lady Ella. Mr. Whippham, the chaplain, was at the bishop's right + hand, ready for any chance of making arrangements to clear off the small + arrears of duty the little holiday in London had accumulated. The bishop + surveyed all these bright young people between himself and the calm beauty + of his wife. He spoke first to one and then another upon the things that + interested them. It rejoiced his heart to be able to give them education + and opportunity, it pleased him to see them in clothes that he knew were + none the less expensive because of their complete simplicity. Miriam and + Mr. Blent wrangled pleasantly about Debussy, and old Dunk waited as though + in orders of some rare and special sort that qualified him for this + service. + </p> + <p> + All these people, the bishop reflected, counted upon him that this would + go on.... + </p> + <p> + Eleanor was answering some question of her mother's. They were so oddly + alike and so curiously different, and both in their several ways so fine. + Eleanor was dark like his own mother. Perhaps she did a little lack Lady + Ella's fine reserves; she could express more, she could feel more acutely, + she might easily be very unhappy or very happy.... + </p> + <p> + All these people counted on him. It was indeed acutely true, as Likeman + had said, that any sudden breach with his position would be a breach of + faith—so far as they were concerned. + </p> + <p> + And just then his eye fell upon the epergne, a very old and beautiful + piece of silver, that graced the dinner-table. It had been given him, + together with an episcopal ring, by his curates and choristers at the + Church of the Holy Innocents, when he became bishop of Pinner. When they + gave it him, had any one of them dreamt that some day he might be moved to + strike an ungracious blow at the mother church that had reared them all? + </p> + <p> + It was his custom to join the family in the drawing-room after dinner. + To-night he was a little delayed by Whippham, with some trivialities about + next month's confirmations in Pringle and Princhester. When he came in he + found Miriam playing, and playing very beautifully one of those later + sonatas of Beethoven, he could never remember whether it was Of. 109 or + Of. 111, but he knew that he liked it very much; it was solemn and sombre + with phases of indescribable sweetness—while Clementina, Daphne and + Mademoiselle Lafarge went on with their war knitting and Phoebe and Mr. + Blent bent their brows over chess. Eleanor was reading the evening paper. + Lady Ella sat on a high chair by the coffee things, and he stood in the + doorway surveying the peaceful scene for a moment or so, before he went + across the room and sat down on the couch close to her. + </p> + <p> + “You look tired,” she whispered softly. + </p> + <p> + “Worries.” + </p> + <p> + “That Chasters case?” + </p> + <p> + “Things developing out of that. I must tell you later.” It would be, he + felt, a good way of breaking the matter to her. + </p> + <p> + “Is the Chasters case coming on again, Daddy?” asked Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “It's a pity,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “What? + </p> + <p> + “That he can't be left alone.” + </p> + <p> + “It's Sir Reginald Phipps. The Church would be much more tolerant if it + wasn't for the House of Laymen. But they—they feel they must do + something.” + </p> + <p> + He seized the opportunity of the music ceasing to get away from the + subject. “Miriam dear,” he asked, raising his voice; “is that 109 or 111? + I can never tell.” + </p> + <p> + “That is always 111, Daddy,” said Miriam. “It's the other one is 109.” And + then evidently feeling that she had been pert: “Would you like me to play + you 109, Daddy?” + </p> + <p> + “I should love it, my dear.” And he leant back and prepared to listen in + such a thorough way that Eleanor would have no chance of discussing the + Chasters' heresies. But this was interrupted by the consummation of the + coffee, and Mr. Blent, breaking a long silence with “Mate in three, if I'm + not mistaken,” leapt to his feet to be of service. Eleanor, with the rough + seriousness of youth, would not leave the Chasters case alone. + </p> + <p> + “But need you take action against Mr. Chasters?” she asked at once. + </p> + <p> + “It's a very complicated subject, my dear,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “His arguments?” + </p> + <p> + “The practical considerations.” + </p> + <p> + “But what are practical considerations in such a case?” + </p> + <p> + “That's a post-graduate subject, Norah,” her father said with a smile and + a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “But,” began Eleanor, gathering fresh forces. + </p> + <p> + “Daddy is tired,” Lady Ella intervened, patting him on the head. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, terribly!—of that,” he said, and so escaped Eleanor for the + evening. + </p> + <p> + But he knew that before very long he would have to tell his wife of the + changes that hung over their lives; it would be shabby to let the + avalanche fall without giving the longest possible warning; and before + they parted that night he took her hands in his and said: “There is much I + have to tell you, dear. Things change, the whole world changes. The church + must not live in a dream.... + </p> + <p> + “No,” she whispered. “I hope you will sleep to-night,” and held up her + grave sweet face to be kissed. + </p> + <p> + (6) + </p> + <p> + But he did not sleep perfectly that night. + </p> + <p> + He did not sleep indeed very badly, but he lay for some time thinking, + thinking not onward but as if he pressed his mind against very strong + barriers that had closed again. His vision of God which had filled the + heavens, had become now gem-like, a minute, hard, clear-cut conviction in + his mind that he had to disentangle himself from the enormous + complications of symbolism and statement and organization and + misunderstanding in the church and achieve again a simple and living + worship of a simple and living God. Likeman had puzzled and silenced him, + only upon reflection to convince him that amidst such intricacies of + explanation the spirit cannot live. Creeds may be symbolical, but symbols + must not prevaricate. A church that can symbolize everything and anything + means nothing. + </p> + <p> + It followed from this that he ought to leave the church. But there came + the other side of this perplexing situation. His feelings as he lay in his + bed were exactly like those one has in a dream when one wishes to run or + leap or shout and one can achieve no movement, no sound. He could not + conceive how he could possibly leave the church. + </p> + <p> + His wife became as it were the representative of all that held him + helpless. She and he had never kept secret from one another any plan of + action, any motive, that affected the other. It was clear to him that any + movement towards the disavowal of doctrinal Christianity and the + renunciation of his see must be first discussed with her. He must tell her + before he told the world. + </p> + <p> + And he could not imagine his telling her except as an incredibly + shattering act. + </p> + <p> + So he left things from day to day, and went about his episcopal routines. + He preached and delivered addresses in such phrases as he knew people + expected, and wondered profoundly why it was that it should be impossible + for him to discuss theological points with Lady Ella. And one afternoon he + went for a walk with Eleanor along the banks of the Prin, and found + himself, in response to certain openings of hers, talking to her in almost + exactly the same terms as Likeman had used to him. + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly the problem of this theological eclaircissement was + complicated in an unexpected fashion. + </p> + <p> + He had just been taking his Every Second Thursday Talk with Diocesan Men + Helpers. He had been trying to be plain and simple upon the needless + narrowness of enthusiastic laymen. He was still in the Bishop Andrews cap + and purple cassock he affected on these occasions; the Men Helpers loved + purple; and he was disentangling himself from two or three resolute bores—for + our loyal laymen can be at times quite superlative bores—when Miriam + came to him. + </p> + <p> + “Mummy says, 'Come to the drawing-room if you can.' There is a Lady + Sunderbund who seems particularly to want to see you.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated for a moment, and then decided that this was a conversation + he ought to control. + </p> + <p> + He found Lady Sunderbund looking very tall and radiantly beautiful in a + sheathlike dress of bright crimson trimmed with snow-white fur and a white + fur toque. She held out a long white-gloved hand to him and cried in a + tone of comradeship and profound understanding: “I've come, Bishop!” + </p> + <p> + “You've come to see me?” he said without any sincerity in his polite + pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “I've come to P'inchesta to stay!” she cried with a bright triumphant + rising note. + </p> + <p> + She evidently considered Lady Ella a mere conversational stop-gap, to be + dropped now that the real business could be commenced. She turned her + pretty profile to that lady, and obliged the bishop with a compact summary + of all that had preceded his arrival. “I have been telling Lady Ella,” she + said, “I've taken a house, fu'nitua and all! Hea. In P'inchesta! I've made + up my mind to sit unda you—as they say in Clapham. I've come 'ight + down he' fo' good. I've taken a little house—oh! a sweet little + house that will be all over 'oses next month. I'm living f'om 'oom to 'oom + and having the othas done up. It's in that little quiet st'eet behind you' + ga'den wall. And he' I am!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it the old doctor's house?” asked Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + “Was it an old docta?” cried Lady Sunderbund. “How delightful! And now I + shall be a patient!” + </p> + <p> + She concentrated upon the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I've been thinking all the time of all the things you told me. Ova + and ova. It's all so wondyful and so—so like a G'ate Daw opening. + New light. As if it was all just beginning.” + </p> + <p> + She clasped her hands. + </p> + <p> + The bishop felt that there were a great number of points to this + situation, and that it was extremely difficult to grasp them all at once. + But one that seemed of supreme importance to his whirling intelligence was + that Lady Ella should not know that he had gone to relieve his soul by + talking to Lady Sunderbund in London. It had never occurred to him at the + time that there was any shadow of disloyalty to Lady Ella in his going to + Lady Sunderbund, but now he realized that this was a thing that would + annoy Lady Ella extremely. The conversation had in the first place to be + kept away from that. And in the second place it had to be kept away from + the abrupt exploitation of the new theological developments. + </p> + <p> + He felt that something of the general tension would be relieved if they + could all three be got to sit down. + </p> + <p> + “I've been talking for just upon two hours,” he said to Lady Ella. “It's + good to see the water boiling for tea.” + </p> + <p> + He put a chair for Lady Sunderbund to the right of Lady Ella, got her into + it by infusing an ecclesiastical insistence into his manner, and then went + and sat upon the music-stool on his wife's left, so as to establish a + screen of tea-things and cakes and so forth against her more intimate + enthusiasm. Meanwhile he began to see his way clearer and to develop his + line. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Lady Sunderbund,” he said, “I can assure you that I think you will + be no small addition to the church life of Princhester. But I warn you + this is a hard-working and exacting diocese. We shall take your money, all + we can get of it, we shall take your time, we shall work you hard.” + </p> + <p> + “Wo'k me hard!” cried Lady Sunderbund with passion. + </p> + <p> + “We will, we will,” said the bishop in a tone that ignored her passionate + note. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure Lady Sunderbund will be a great help to us,” said Lady Ella. + “We want brightening. There's a dinginess....” + </p> + <p> + Lady Sunderbund beamed an acknowledgment. “I shall exact a 'eturn,” she + said. “I don't mind wo'king, but I shall wo'k like the poo' students in + the Middle Ages did, to get my teaching. I've got my own soul to save as + well as help saving othas. Since oua last talk—” + </p> + <p> + She found the bishop handing her bread and butter. For a time the bishop + fought a delaying action with the tea-things, while he sought eagerly and + vainly in his mind for some good practical topic in which he could + entangle and suppress Lady Sunderbund's enthusiasms. From this she broke + away by turning suddenly to Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + “Youa husband's views,” she said, “we'e a 'eal 'evelation to me. It was + like not being blind—all at once.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella was always pleased to hear her husband praised. Her colour + brightened a little. “They seem very ordinary views,” she said modestly. + </p> + <p> + “You share them?” cried Lady Sunderbund. + </p> + <p> + “But of course,” said Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + “Wondyful!” cried Lady Sunderbund. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, Lady Sunderbund,” said the bishop, “are you going to alter the + outer appearance of the old doctor's house?” And found that at last he had + discovered the saving topic. + </p> + <p> + “Ha'dly at all,” she said. “I shall just have it pointed white and do the + doa—I'm not su' how I shall do the doa. Whetha I shall do the doa + gold or a vehy, vehy 'itch blue.” + </p> + <p> + For a time she and Lady Ella, to whom these ideas were novel, discussed + the animation of grey and sombre towns by house painting. In such matter + Lady Sunderbund had a Russian mind. “I can't bea' g'ey,” she said. “Not in + my su'oundings, not in my k'eed, nowhe'e.” She turned to the bishop. “If I + had my way I would paint you' cathed'al inside and out.” + </p> + <p> + “They used to be painted,” said the bishop. “I don't know if you have seen + Ely. There the old painting has been largely restored....” + </p> + <p> + From that to the end there was no real danger, and at last the bishop + found himself alone with his wife again. + </p> + <p> + “Remarkable person,” he said tentatively. “I never met any one whose + faults were more visible. I met her at Wimbush House.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced at his watch. + </p> + <p> + “What did she mean,” asked Lady Ella abruptly, “by talking of your new + views? And about revelations?” + </p> + <p> + “She probably misunderstood something I said at the Garstein Fellows',” he + said. “She has rather a leaping mind.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to the window, looked at his nails, and appeared to be suddenly + reminded of duties elsewhere.... + </p> + <p> + It was chiefly manifest to him that the difficulties in explaining the + changes of his outlook to Lady Ella had now increased enormously. + </p> + <p> + (7) + </p> + <p> + A day or so after Lady Sunderbund's arrival in Princhester the bishop had + a letter from Likeman. The old man was manifestly in doubt about the + effect of their recent conversation. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Scrope,” it began. “I find myself thinking continually about our + interview and the difficulties you laid bare so frankly to me. We touched + upon many things in that talk, and I find myself full of afterthoughts, + and not perfectly sure either quite of what I said or of what I failed to + say. I feel that in many ways I was not perhaps so clear and convincing as + the justice of my case should have made me, and you are one of my own + particular little company, you were one of the best workers in that band + of good workers, your life and your career are very much my concern. I + know you will forgive me if I still mingle something of the paternal with + my fraternal admonitions. I watched you closely. I have still my old + diaries of the St. Matthew's days, and I have been looking at them to + remind me of what you once were. It was my custom to note my early + impressions of all the men who worked with me, because I have a firm + belief in the soundness of first impressions and the considerable risk one + runs of having them obscured by the accidents and habituations of constant + intercourse. I found that quite early in your days at St. Matthew's I + wrote against your name 'enthusiastic, but a saving delicacy.' After all + our life-long friendship I would not write anything truer. I would say of + you to-day, 'This man might have been a revivalist, if he were not a + gentleman.' There is the enthusiast, there is the revivalist, in you. It + seems to me that the stresses and questions of this great crisis in the + world's history have brought it nearer to the surface than I had ever + expected it to come. + </p> + <p> + “I quite understand and I sympathize with your impatience with the church + at the present time; we present a spectacle of pompous insignificance hard + to bear with. We are doing very little, and we are giving ourselves + preposterous airs. There seems to be an opinion abroad that in some + quasi-automatic way the country is going to collapse after the war into + the arms of the church and the High Tories; a possibility I don't accept + for a moment. Why should it? These forcible-feeble reactionaries are much + more likely to explode a revolution that will disestablish us. And I quite + understand your theological difficulties—quite. The creeds, if their + entire symbolism is for a moment forgotten, if they are taken as opaque + statements of fact, are inconsistent, incredible. So incredible that no + one believes them; not even the most devout. The utmost they do is to + avert their minds—reverentially. Credo quia impossibile. That is + offensive to a Western mind. I can quite understand the disposition to cry + out at such things, 'This is not the Church of God!'—to run out from + it— + </p> + <p> + “You have some dream, I suspect, of a dramatic dissidence. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my dear Brother and erstwhile pupil, I ask you not to do this thing. + Wait, I implore you. Give me—and some others, a little time. I have + your promise for three months, but even after that, I ask you to wait. Let + the reform come from within the church. The church is something more than + either its creeds, its clergy, or its laymen. Look at your cathedral + rising out of and dominating Princhester. It stands not simply for + Athanasius; it stands but incidentally for Athanasius; it stands for all + religion. Within that fabric—let me be as frank here as in our + private conversation—doctrine has altered again and again. To-day + two distinct religions worship there side by side; one that fades and one + that grows brighter. There is the old quasi-materialistic belief of the + barbarians, the belief in such things, for example, as that Christ the + physical Son of God descended into hell and stayed there, seeing the + sights I suppose like any tourist and being treated with diplomatic + civilities for three terrestrial days; and on the other hand there is the + truly spiritual belief that you and I share, which is absolutely + intolerant of such grotesque ideas. My argument to you is that the new + faith, the clearer vision, gains ground; that the only thing that can + prevent or delay the church from being altogether possessed by what you + call and I admit is, the true God, is that such men as yourself, as the + light breaks upon you, should be hasty and leave the church. You see my + point of view, do you not? It is not one that has been assumed for our + discussion; it is one I came to long years ago, that I was already feeling + my way to in my St. Matthew's Lenton sermons. + </p> + <p> + “A word for your private ear. I am working. I cannot tell you fully + because I am not working alone. But there are movements afoot in which I + hope very shortly to be able to ask you to share. That much at least I may + say at this stage. Obscure but very powerful influences are at work for + the liberalizing of the church, for release from many narrow limitations, + for the establishment of a modus vivendi with the nonconformist and + dissentient bodies in Britain and America, and with the churches of the + East. But of that no more now. + </p> + <p> + “And in conclusion, my dear Scrope, let me insist again upon the eternal + persistence of the essential Religious Fact:” + </p> + <p> + (Greek Letters Here) + </p> + <p> + (Rev. i. 18. “Fear not. I am the First and Last thing, the Living thing.”) + </p> + <p> + And these promises which, even if we are not to take them as promises in + the exact sense in which, let us say, the payment of five sovereigns is + promised by a five-pound note, are yet assertions of practically + inevitable veracity: + </p> + <p> + (Greek Letters Here) + </p> + <p> + (Phil. i. 6. “He who began... will perfect.” Eph. v. 14. “He will + illuminate.”) + </p> + <p> + The old man had written his Greek tags in shakily resolute capitals. It + was his custom always to quote the Greek Testament in his letters, never + the English version. It is a practice not uncommon with the more scholarly + of our bishops. It is as if some eminent scientific man were to insist + upon writing H2O instead of “water,” and “sodium chloride” instead of + “table salt” in his private correspondence. Or upon hanging up a stuffed + crocodile in his hall to give the place tone. The Bishop of Princhester + construed these brief dicta without serious exertion, he found them very + congenial texts, but there were insuperable difficulties in the problem + why Likeman should suppose they had the slightest weight upon his side of + their discussion. The more he thought the less they seemed to be on + Likeman's side, until at last they began to take on a complexion entirely + opposed to the old man's insidious arguments, until indeed they began to + bear the extraordinary interpretation of a special message, unwittingly + delivered. + </p> + <p> + (8) + </p> + <p> + The bishop was still thinking over this communication when he was + interrupted by Lady Ella. She came with a letter in her hand to ask him + whether she might send five-and-twenty pounds to a poor cousin of his, a + teacher in a girls' school, who had been incapacitated from work by a + dislocation of the cartilage of her knee. If she could go to that + unorthodox but successful practitioner, Mr. Barker, the bone-setter, she + was convinced she could be restored to efficiency. But she had no ready + money. The bishop agreed without hesitation. His only doubt was the + certainty of the cure, but upon that point Lady Ella was convinced; there + had been a great experience in the Walshingham family. + </p> + <p> + “It is pleasant to be able to do things like this,” said Lady Ella, + standing over him when this matter was settled. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” the bishop agreed; “it is pleasant to be in a position to do things + like this....” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THE SEVENTH - THE SECOND VISION + </h2> + <h3> + (1) + </h3> + <p> + A MONTH later found the bishop's original state of perplexity and insomnia + returned and intensified. He had done none of all the things that had + seemed so manifestly needing to be done after his vision in the Athenaeum. + All the relief and benefit of his experience in London had vanished out of + his life. He was afraid of Dr. Dale's drug; he knew certainly that it + would precipitate matters; and all his instincts in the state of moral + enfeeblement to which he had relapsed, were to temporize. + </p> + <p> + Although he had said nothing further about his changed beliefs to Lady + Ella, yet he perceived clearly that a shadow had fallen between them. She + had a wife's extreme sensitiveness to fine shades of expression and + bearing, and manifestly she knew that something was different. Meanwhile + Lady Sunderbund had become a frequent worshipper in the cathedral, she was + a figure as conspicuous in sombre Princhester as a bird of paradise would + have been; common people stood outside her very very rich blue door on the + chance of seeing her; she never missed an opportunity of hearing the + bishop preach or speak, she wrote him several long and thoughtful letters + with which he did not bother Lady Ella, she communicated persistently, and + manifestly intended to become a very active worker in diocesan affairs. + </p> + <p> + It was inevitable that she and the bishop should meet and talk + occasionally in the cathedral precincts, and it was inevitable that he + should contrast the flexibility of her rapid and very responsive mind with + a certain defensiveness, a stoniness, in the intellectual bearing of Lady + Ella. + </p> + <p> + If it had been Lady Sunderbund he had had to explain to, instead of Lady + Ella, he could have explained a dozen times a day. + </p> + <p> + And since his mind was rehearsing explanations it was not unnatural they + should overflow into this eagerly receptive channel, and that the less he + told Lady Ella the fuller became his spiritual confidences to Lady + Sunderbund. + </p> + <p> + She was clever in realizing that they were confidences and treating them + as such, more particularly when it chanced that she and Lady Ella and the + bishop found themselves in the same conversation. + </p> + <p> + She made great friends with Miriam, and initiated her by a whole + collection of pretty costume plates into the mysteries of the “Ussian + Ballet” and the works of Mousso'gski and “Imsky Ko'zakof.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop liked a certain religiosity in the texture of Moussorgski's + music, but failed to see the “significance “—of many of the + costumes. + </p> + <p> + (2) + </p> + <p> + It was on a Sunday night—the fourth Sunday after Easter—that + the supreme crisis of the bishop's life began. He had had a feeling all + day of extreme dulness and stupidity; he felt his ministrations unreal, + his ceremonies absurd and undignified. In the night he became bleakly and + painfully awake. His mind occupied itself at first chiefly with the + tortuousness and weakness of his own character. Every day he perceived + that the difficulty of telling Lady Ella of the change in his faith became + more mountainous. And every day he procrastinated. If he had told her + naturally and simply on the evening of his return from London—before + anything material intervened—everything would have been different, + everything would have been simpler.... + </p> + <p> + He groaned and rolled over in his bed. + </p> + <p> + There came upon him the acutest remorse and misery. For he saw that amidst + these petty immediacies he had lost touch with God. The last month became + incredible. He had seen God. He had touched God's hand. God had been given + to him, and he had neglected the gift. He was still lost amidst the + darkness and loneliness, the chaotic ends and mean shifts, of an Erastian + world. For a month now and more, after a vision of God so vivid and real + and reassuring that surely no saint nor prophet had ever had a better, he + had made no more than vague responsive movements; he had allowed himself + to be persuaded into an unreasonable and cowardly delay, and the fetters + of association and usage and minor interests were as unbroken as they had + been before ever the vision shone. Was it credible that there had ever + been such a vision in a life so entirely dictated by immediacy and + instinct as his? We are all creatures of the dark stream, we swim in needs + and bodily impulses and small vanities; if ever and again a bubble of + spiritual imaginativeness glows out of us, it breaks and leaves us where + we were. + </p> + <p> + “Louse that I am!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + He still believed in God, without a shadow of doubt; he believed in the + God that he had seen, the high courage, the golden intention, the light + that had for a moment touched him. But what had he to do with God, he, the + loiterer, the little thing? + </p> + <p> + He was little, he was funny. His prevarications with his wife, for + example, were comic. There was no other word for him but “funny.” + </p> + <p> + He rolled back again and lay staring. + </p> + <p> + “Who will deliver me from the body of this death?” What right has a little + bishop in a purple stock and doeskin breeches, who hangs back in his + palace from the very call of God, to a phrase so fine and tragic as “the + body of this death?” + </p> + <p> + He was the most unreal thing in the universe. He was a base insect giving + himself airs. What advantage has a bishop over the Praying Mantis, that + cricket which apes the attitude of piety? Does he matter more—to + God? + </p> + <p> + “To the God of the Universe, who can tell? To the God of man,—yes.” + </p> + <p> + He sat up in bed struck by his own answer, and full of an indescribable + hunger for God and an indescribable sense of his complete want of courage + to make the one simple appeal that would satisfy that hunger. He tried to + pray. “O God!” he cried, “forgive me! Take me!” It seemed to him that he + was not really praying but only making believe to pray. It seemed to him + that he was not really existing but only seeming to exist. He seemed to + himself to be one with figures on a china plate, with figures painted on + walls, with the flimsy imagined lives of men in stories of forgotten + times. “O God!” he said, “O God,” acting a gesture, mimicking appeal. + </p> + <p> + “Anaemic,” he said, and was given an idea. + </p> + <p> + He got out of bed, he took his keys from the night-table at the bed head + and went to his bureau. + </p> + <p> + He stood with Dale's tonic in his hand. He remained for some time holding + it, and feeling a curious indisposition to go on with the thing in his + mind. + </p> + <p> + He turned at last with an effort. He carried the little phial to his + bedside, and into the tumbler of his water-bottle he let the drops fall, + drop by drop, until he had counted twenty. Then holding it to the bulb of + his reading lamp he added the water and stood watching the slow pearly + eddies in the mixture mingle into an opalescent uniformity. He replaced + the water-bottle and stood with the glass in his hand. But he did not + drink. + </p> + <p> + He was afraid. + </p> + <p> + He knew that he had only to drink and this world of confusion would grow + transparent, would roll back and reveal the great simplicities behind. And + he was afraid. + </p> + <p> + He was afraid of that greatness. He was afraid of the great imperatives + that he knew would at once take hold of his life. He wanted to muddle on + for just a little longer. He wanted to stay just where he was, in his + familiar prison-house, with the key of escape in his hand. Before he took + the last step into the very presence of truth, he would—think. + </p> + <p> + He put down the glass and lay down upon his bed.... + </p> + <p> + (3) + </p> + <p> + He awoke in a mood of great depression out of a dream of wandering + interminably in an endless building of innumerable pillars, pillars so + vast and high that the ceiling was lost in darkness. By the scale of these + pillars he felt himself scarcely larger than an ant. He was always alone + in these wanderings, and always missing something that passed along + distant passages, something desirable, something in the nature of a + procession or of a ceremony, something of which he was in futile pursuit, + of which he heard faint echoes, something luminous of which he seemed at + times to see the last fading reflection, across vast halls and + wildernesses of shining pavement and through Cyclopaean archways. At last + there was neither sound nor gleam, but the utmost solitude, and a darkness + and silence and the uttermost profundity of sorrow.... + </p> + <p> + It was bright day. Dunk had just come into the room with his tea, and the + tumbler of Dr. Dale's tonic stood untouched upon the night-table. The + bishop sat up in bed. He had missed his opportunity. To-day was a busy + day, he knew. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, as Dunk hesitated whether to remove or leave the tumbler. + “Leave that.” + </p> + <p> + Dunk found room for it upon the tea-tray, and vanished softly with the + bishop's evening clothes. + </p> + <p> + The bishop remained motionless facing the day. There stood the draught of + decision that he had lacked the decision even to touch. + </p> + <p> + From his bed he could just read the larger items that figured upon the + engagement tablet which it was Whippham's business to fill over-night and + place upon his table. He had two confirmation services, first the big one + in the cathedral and then a second one in the evening at Pringle, various + committees and an interview with Chasters. He had not yet finished his + addresses for these confirmation services.... + </p> + <p> + The task seemed mountainous—overwhelming. + </p> + <p> + With a gesture of desperation he seized the tumblerful of tonic and drank + it off at a gulp. + </p> + <p> + (4) + </p> + <p> + For some moments nothing seemed to happen. + </p> + <p> + Then he began to feel stronger and less wretched, and then came a + throbbing and tingling of artery and nerve. + </p> + <p> + He had a sense of adventure, a pleasant fear in the thing that he had + done. He got out of bed, leaving his cup of tea untasted, and began to + dress. He had the sensation of relief a prisoner may feel who suddenly + tries his cell door and finds it open upon sunshine, the outside world and + freedom. + </p> + <p> + He went on dressing although he was certain that in a few minutes the + world of delusion about him would dissolve, and that he would find himself + again in the great freedom of the place of God. + </p> + <p> + This time the transition came much sooner and much more rapidly. This time + the phases and quality of the experience were different. He felt once + again that luminous confusion between the world in which a human life is + imprisoned and a circumambient and interpenetrating world, but this phase + passed very rapidly; it did not spread out over nearly half an hour as it + had done before, and almost immediately he seemed to plunge away from + everything in this life altogether into that outer freedom he sought. And + this time there was not even the elemental scenery of the former vision. + He stood on nothing; there was nothing below and nothing above him. There + was no sense of falling, no terror, but a feeling as though he floated + released. There was no light, but as it were a clear darkness about him. + Then it was manifest to him that he was not alone, but that with him was + that same being that in his former vision had called himself the Angel of + God. He knew this without knowing why he knew this, and either he spoke + and was answered, or he thought and his thought answered him back. His + state of mind on this occasion was altogether different from the first + vision of God; before it had been spectacular, but now his perception was + altogether super-sensuous. + </p> + <p> + (And nevertheless and all the time it seemed that very faintly he was + still in his room.) + </p> + <p> + It was he who was the first to speak. The great Angel whom he felt rather + than saw seemed to be waiting for him to speak. + </p> + <p> + “I have come,” he said, “because once more I desire to see God.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have seen God.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw God. God was light, God was truth. And I went back to my life, and + God was hidden. God seemed to call me. He called. I heard him, I sought + him and I touched his hand. When I went back to my life I was presently + lost in perplexity. I could not tell why God had called me nor what I had + to do.” + </p> + <p> + “And why did you not come here before?” + </p> + <p> + “Doubt and fear. Brother, will you not lay your hand on mine?” + </p> + <p> + The figure in the darkness became distincter. But nothing touched the + bishop's seeking hands. + </p> + <p> + “I want to see God and to understand him. I want reassurance. I want + conviction. I want to understand all that God asks me to do. The world is + full of conflict and confusion and the spirit of war. It is dark and + dreadful now with suffering and bloodshed. I want to serve God who could + save it, and I do not know how.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed to the bishop that now he could distinguish dimly but surely the + form and features of the great Angel to whom he talked. For a little while + there was silence, and then the Angel spoke. + </p> + <p> + “It was necessary first,” said the Angel, “that you should apprehend God + and desire him. That was the purport of your first vision. Now, since you + require it, I will tell you and show you certain things about him, things + that it seems you need to know, things that all men need to know. Know + then first that the time is at hand when God will come into the world and + rule it, and when men will know what is required of them. This time is + close at hand. In a little while God will be made manifest throughout the + earth. Men will know him and know that he is King. To you this truth is to + be shown—that you may tell it to others.” + </p> + <p> + “This is no vision?” said the bishop, “no dream that will pass away?” + </p> + <p> + “Am I not here beside you?” + </p> + <p> + (5) + </p> + <p> + The bishop was anxious to be very clear. Things that had been shapelessly + present in his mind now took form and found words for themselves. + </p> + <p> + “The God I saw in my vision—He is not yet manifest in the world?” + </p> + <p> + “He comes. He is in the world, but he is not yet manifested. He whom you + saw in your vision will speedily be manifest in the world. To you this + vision is given of the things that come. The world is already glowing with + God. Mankind is like a smouldering fire that will presently, in quite a + little time, burst out into flame. + </p> + <p> + “In your former vision I showed you God,” said the Angel. “This time I + will show you certain signs of the coming of God. And then you will + understand the place you hold in the world and the task that is required + of you.” + </p> + <p> + (6) + </p> + <p> + And as the Angel spoke he lifted up his hands with the palms upward, and + there appeared above them a little round cloud, that grew denser until it + had the likeness of a silver sphere. It was a mirror in the form of a + ball, but a mirror not shining uniformly; it was discoloured with greyish + patches that had a familiar shape. It circled slowly upon the Angel's + hands. It seemed no greater than the compass of a human skull, and yet it + was as great as the earth. Indeed it showed the whole earth. It was the + earth. The hands of the Angel vanished out of sight, dissolved and + vanished, and the spinning world hung free. All about the bishop the + velvet darkness broke into glittering points that shaped out the + constellations, and nearest to them, so near as to seem only a few million + miles away in the great emptiness into which everything had resolved + itself, shone the sun, a ball of red-tongued fires. The Angel was but a + voice now; the bishop and the Angel were somewhere aloof from and yet + accessible to the circling silver sphere. + </p> + <p> + At the time all that happened seemed to happen quite naturally, as things + happen in a dream. It was only later, when all this was a matter of + memory, that the bishop realized how strange and incomprehensible his + vision had been. The sphere was the earth with all its continents and + seas, its ships and cities, its country-sides and mountain ranges. It was + so small that he could see it all at once, and so great and full that he + could see everything in it. He could see great countries like little + patches upon it, and at the same time he could see the faces of the men + upon the highways, he could see the feelings in men's hearts and the + thoughts in their minds. But it did not seem in any way wonderful to the + bishop that so he should see those things, or that it was to him that + these things were shown. + </p> + <p> + “This is the whole world,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “This is the vision of the world,” the Angel answered. + </p> + <p> + “It is very wonderful,” said the bishop, and stood for a moment marvelling + at the compass of his vision. For here was India, here was Samarkand, in + the light of the late afternoon; and China and the swarming cities upon + her silvery rivers sinking through twilight to the night and throwing a + spray and tracery of lantern spots upon the dark; here was Russia under + the noontide, and so great a battle of artillery raging on the Dunajec as + no man had ever seen before; whole lines of trenches dissolved into clouds + of dust and heaps of blood-streaked earth; here close to the waiting + streets of Constantinople were the hills of Gallipoli, the grave of + British Imperialism, streaming to heaven with the dust and smoke of + bursting shells and rifle fire and the smoke and flame of burning + brushwood. In the sea of Marmora a big ship crowded with Turkish troops + was sinking; and, purple under the clear water, he could see the shape of + the British submarine which had torpedoed her and had submerged and was + going away. Berlin prepared its frugal meals, still far from famine. He + saw the war in Europe as if he saw it on a map, yet every human detail + showed. Over hundreds of miles of trenches east and west of Germany he + could see shells bursting and the men below dropping, and the + stretcher-bearers going back with the wounded. The roads to every front + were crowded with reserves and munitions. For a moment a little group of + men indifferent to all this struggle, who were landing amidst the + Antarctic wilderness, held his attention; and then his eyes went westward + to the dark rolling Atlantic across which, as the edge of the night was + drawn like a curtain, more and still more ships became visible beating + upon their courses eastward or westward under the overtaking day. + </p> + <p> + The wonder increased; the wonder of the single and infinitely + multitudinous adventure of mankind. + </p> + <p> + “So God perhaps sees it,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + (7) + </p> + <p> + “Look at this man,” said the Angel, and the black shadow of a hand seemed + to point. + </p> + <p> + It was a Chinaman sitting with two others in a little low room separated + by translucent paper windows from a noisy street of shrill-voiced people. + The three had been talking of the ultimatum that Japan had sent that day + to China, claiming a priority in many matters over European influences + they were by no means sure whether it was a wrong or a benefit that had + been done to their country. From that topic they had passed to the + discussion of the war, and then of wars and national aggressions and the + perpetual thrusting and quarrelling of mankind. The older man had said + that so life would always be; it was the will of Heaven. The little, very + yellow-faced, emaciated man had agreed with him. But now this younger man, + to whose thoughts the Angel had so particularly directed the bishop's + attention, was speaking. He did not agree with his companion. + </p> + <p> + “War is not the will of Heaven,” he said; “it is the blindness of men.” + </p> + <p> + “Man changes,” he said, “from day to day and from age to age. The science + of the West has taught us that. Man changes and war changes and all things + change. China has been the land of flowery peace, and she may yet give + peace to all the world. She has put aside that puppet Emperor at Peking, + she turns her face to the new learning of the West as a man lays aside his + heavy robes, in order that her task may be achieved.” + </p> + <p> + The older man spoke, his manner was more than a little incredulous, and + yet not altogether contemptuous. “You believe that someday there will be + no more war in the world, that a time will come when men will no longer + plot and plan against the welfare of men?” + </p> + <p> + “Even that last,” said the younger man. “Did any of us dream twenty-five + years ago that here in China we should live to see a republic? The age of + the republics draws near, when men in every country of the world will look + straight up to the rule of Right and the empire of Heaven.” + </p> + <p> + (“And God will be King of the World,” said the Angel. “Is not that faith + exactly the faith that is coming to you?”) + </p> + <p> + The two other Chinamen questioned their companion, but without hostility. + </p> + <p> + “This war,” said the Chinaman, “will end in a great harvesting of kings.” + </p> + <p> + “But Japan—” the older man began. + </p> + <p> + The bishop would have liked to hear more of that conversation, but the + dark hand of the Angel motioned him to another part of the world. “Listen + to this,” said the Angel. + </p> + <p> + He pointed the bishop to where the armies of Britain and Turkey lay in the + heat of Mesopotamia. Along the sandy bank of a wide, slow-flowing river + rode two horsemen, an Englishman and a Turk. They were returning from the + Turkish lines, whither the Englishman had been with a flag of truce. When + Englishmen and Turks are thrown together they soon become friends, and in + this case matters had been facilitated by the Englishman's command of the + Turkish language. He was quite an exceptional Englishman. The Turk had + just been remarking cheerfully that it wouldn't please the Germans if they + were to discover how amiably he and his charge had got on. “It's a pity we + ever ceased to be friends,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You Englishmen aren't like our Christians,” he went on. + </p> + <p> + The Englishmen wanted to know why. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't priests in robes. You don't chant and worship crosses and + pictures, and quarrel among yourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “We worship the same God as you do,” said the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “Then why do we fight?” + </p> + <p> + “That's what we want to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you call yourselves Christians? And take part against us? All who + worship the One God are brothers.” + </p> + <p> + “They ought to be,” said the Englishman, and thought. He was struck by + what seemed to him an amazingly novel idea. + </p> + <p> + “If it weren't for religions all men would serve God together,” he said. + “And then there would be no wars—only now and then perhaps just a + little honest fighting....” + </p> + <p> + “And see here,” said the Angel. “Here close behind this frightful battle, + where the German phalanx of guns pounds its way through the Russian hosts. + Here is a young German talking to two wounded Russian prisoners, who have + stopped to rest by the roadside. He is a German of East Prussia; he knows + and thinks a little Russian. And they too are saying, all three of them, + that the war is not God's will, but the confusion of mankind. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” he said, and the shadow of his hand hovered over the burning-ghats + of Benares, where a Brahmin of the new persuasion watched the straight + spires of funereal smoke ascend into the glow of the late afternoon, while + he talked to an English painter, his friend, of the blind intolerance of + race and caste and custom in India. + </p> + <p> + “Or here.” + </p> + <p> + The Angel pointed to a group of people who had gathered upon a little + beach at the head of a Norwegian fiord. There were three lads, an old man + and two women, and they stood about the body of a drowned German sailor + which had been washed up that day. For a time they had talked in whispers, + but now suddenly the old man spoke aloud. + </p> + <p> + “This is the fourth that has come ashore,” he said. “Poor drowned souls! + Because men will not serve God.” + </p> + <p> + “But folks go to church and pray enough,” said one of the women. + </p> + <p> + “They do not serve God,” said the old man. “They just pray to him as one + nods to a beggar. They do not serve God who is their King. They set up + their false kings and emperors, and so all Europe is covered with dead, + and the seas wash up these dead to us. Why does the world suffer these + things? Why did we Norwegians, who are a free-spirited people, permit the + Germans and the Swedes and the English to set up a king over us? Because + we lack faith. Kings mean secret counsels, and secret counsels bring war. + Sooner or later war will come to us also if we give the soul of our nation + in trust to a king.... But things will not always be thus with men. God + will not suffer them for ever. A day comes, and it is no distant day, when + God himself will rule the earth, and when men will do, not what the king + wishes nor what is expedient nor what is customary, but what is manifestly + right.”.... + </p> + <p> + “But men are saying that now in a thousand places,” said the Angel. “Here + is something that goes a little beyond that.” + </p> + <p> + His pointing hand went southward until they saw the Africanders riding + down to Windhuk. Two men, Boer farmers both, rode side by side and talked + of the German officer they brought prisoner with them. He had put + sheep-dip in the wells of drinking-water; his life was fairly forfeit, and + he was not to be killed. “We want no more hate in South Africa,” they + agreed. “Dutch and English and German must live here now side by side. Men + cannot always be killing.” + </p> + <p> + “And see his thoughts,” said the Angel. + </p> + <p> + The German's mind was one amazement. He had been sure of being shot, he + had meant to make a good end, fierce and scornful, a relentless fighter to + the last; and these men who might have shot him like a man were going to + spare him like a dog. His mind was a tumbled muddle of old and new ideas. + He had been brought up in an atmosphere of the foulest and fiercest + militarism; he had been trained to relentlessness, ruthlessness and so + forth; war was war and the bitterer the better, frightfulness was your way + to victory over every enemy. But these people had found a better way. Here + were Dutch and English side by side; sixteen years ago they had been at + war together and now they wore the same uniform and rode together, and + laughed at him for a queer fellow because he was for spitting at them and + defying them, and folding his arms and looking level at the executioners' + rifles. There were to be no executioners' rifles.... If it was so with + Dutch and English, why shouldn't it be so presently with French and + Germans? Why someday shouldn't French, German, Dutch and English, Russian + and Pole, ride together under this new star of mankind, the Southern + Cross, to catch whatever last mischief-maker was left to poison the wells + of goodwill? + </p> + <p> + His mind resisted and struggled against these ideas. “Austere,” he + whispered. “The ennobling tests of war.” A trooner rode up alongside, and + offered him a drink of water + </p> + <p> + “Just a mouthful,” he said apologetically. “We've had to go rather + short.”... + </p> + <p> + “There's another brain busy here with the same idea,” the Angel + interrupted. And the bishop found himself looking into the bedroom of a + young German attache in Washington, sleepless in the small hours. + </p> + <p> + “Ach!” cried the young man, and sat up in bed and ran his hands through + his fair hair. + </p> + <p> + He had been working late upon this detestable business of the Lusitania; + the news of her sinking had come to hand two days before, and all America + was aflame with it. It might mean war. His task had been to pour out + explanations and justifications to the press; to show that it was an act + of necessity, to pretend a conviction that the great ship was loaded with + munitions, to fight down the hostility and anger that blazed across a + continent. He had worked to his limit. He had taken cup after cup of + coffee, and had come to bed worked out not two hours ago. Now here he was + awake after a nightmare of drowning women and children, trying to comfort + his soul by recalling his own arguments. Never once since the war began + had he doubted the rightness of the German cause. It seemed only a proof + of his nervous exhaustion that he could doubt it now. Germany was the best + organized, most cultivated, scientific and liberal nation the earth had + ever seen, it was for the good of mankind that she should be the dominant + power in the world; his patriotism had had the passion of a mission. The + English were indolent, the French decadent, the Russians barbaric, the + Americans basely democratic; the rest of the world was the “White man's + Burthen”; the clear destiny of mankind was subservience to the good + Prussian eagle. Nevertheless—those wet draggled bodies that swirled + down in the eddies of the sinking Titan—Ach! He wished it could have + been otherwise. He nursed his knees and prayed that there need not be much + more of these things before the spirit of the enemy was broken and the + great Peace of Germany came upon the world. + </p> + <p> + And suddenly he stopped short in his prayer. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly out of the nothingness and darkness about him came the conviction + that God did not listen to his prayers.... + </p> + <p> + Was there any other way? + </p> + <p> + It was the most awful doubt he had ever had, for it smote at the training + of all his life. “Could it be possible that after all our old German God + is not the proper style and title of the true God? Is our old German God + perhaps only the last of a long succession of bloodstained tribal effigies—and + not God at all?” + </p> + <p> + For a long time it seemed that the bishop watched the thoughts that + gathered in the young attache's mind. Until suddenly he broke into a + quotation, into that last cry of the dying Goethe, for “Light. More + Light!”... + </p> + <p> + “Leave him at that,” said the Angel. “I want you to hear these two young + women.” + </p> + <p> + The hand came back to England and pointed to where Southend at the mouth + of the Thames was all agog with the excitement of an overnight Zeppelin + raid. People had got up hours before their usual time in order to look at + the wrecked houses before they went up to their work in town. Everybody + seemed abroad. Two nurses, not very well trained as nurses go nor very + well-educated women, were snatching a little sea air upon the front after + an eventful night. They were too excited still to sleep. They were talking + of the horror of the moment when they saw the nasty thing “up there,” and + felt helpless as it dropped its bombs. They had both hated it. + </p> + <p> + “There didn't ought to be such things,” said one. + </p> + <p> + “They don't seem needed,” said her companion. + </p> + <p> + “Men won't always go on like this—making wars and all such + wickedness.” + </p> + <p> + “It's 'ow to stop them?” + </p> + <p> + “Science is going to stop them.” + </p> + <p> + “Science?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, science. My young brother—oh, he's a clever one—he says + such things! He says that it's science that they won't always go on like + this. There's more sense coming into the world and more—my young + brother says so. Says it stands to reason; it's Evolution. It's science + that men are all brothers; you can prove it. It's science that there + oughtn't to be war. Science is ending war now by making it horrible like + this, and making it so that no one is safe. Showing it up. Only when + nobody is safe will everybody want to set up peace, he says. He says it's + proved there could easily be peace all over the world now if it wasn't for + flags and kings and capitalists and priests. They still manage to keep + safe and out of it. He says the world ought to be just one state. The + World State, he says it ought to be.” + </p> + <p> + (“Under God,” said the bishop, “under God.”) + </p> + <p> + “He says science ought to be King of the whole world.” + </p> + <p> + “Call it Science if you will,” said the bishop. “God is wisdom.” + </p> + <p> + “Out of the mouths of babes and elementary science students,” said the + Angel. “The very children in the board schools are turning against this + narrowness and nonsense and mischief of nations and creeds and kings. You + see it at a thousand points, at ten thousand points, look, the world is + all flashing and flickering; it is like a spinthariscope; it is aquiver + with the light that is coming to mankind. It is on the verge of blazing + even now.” + </p> + <p> + “Into a light.” + </p> + <p> + “Into the one Kingdom of God. See here! See here! And here! This brave + little French priest in a helmet of steel who is daring to think for the + first time in his life; this gentle-mannered emir from Morocco looking at + the grave-diggers on the battlefield; this mother who has lost her son.... + </p> + <p> + “You see they all turn in one direction, although none of them seem to + dream yet that they are all turning in the same direction. They turn, + every one, to the rule of righteousness, which is the rule of God. They + turn to that communism of effort in the world which alone permits men to + serve God in state and city and their economic lives.... They are all + coming to the verge of the same salvation, the salvation of one human + brotherhood under the rule of one Righteousness, one Divine will.... Is + that the salvation your church offers?” + </p> + <p> + (8) + </p> + <p> + “And now that we have seen how religion grows and spreads in men's hearts, + now that the fields are white with harvest, I want you to look also and + see what the teachers of religion are doing,” said the Angel. + </p> + <p> + He smiled. His presence became more definite, and the earthly globe about + them and the sun and the stars grew less distinct and less immediately + there. The silence invited the bishop to speak. + </p> + <p> + “In the light of this vision, I see my church plainly for the little thing + it is,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He wanted to be perfectly clear with the Angel and himself. + </p> + <p> + “This church of which I am a bishop is just a part of our poor human + struggle, small and pitiful as one thinks of it here in the light of the + advent of God's Kingdom, but very great, very great indeed, ancient and + high and venerable, in comparison with me. But mostly it is human. It is + most human. For my story is the church's story, and the church's story is + mine. Here I could almost believe myself the church itself. The world saw + a light, the nations that were sitting in darkness saw a great light. Even + as I saw God. And then the church began to forget and lose itself among + secondary things. As I have done.... It tried to express the truth and + lost itself in a maze of theology. It tried to bring order into the world + and sold its faith to Constantine. These men who had professed the + Invisible King of the World, shirked his service. It is a most terrible + disaster that Christianity has sold itself to emperors and kings. They + forged a saying of the Master's that we should render unto Ceasar the + things that are Ceasar's and unto God the things that are God's.... + </p> + <p> + “Who is this Ceasar to set himself up to share mankind with God? Nothing + that is Ceasar's can be any the less God's. But Constantine Caesar sat in + the midst of the council, his guards were all about it, and the poor + fanatics and trimmers and schemers disputed nervously with their eyes on + him, disputed about homoousian and homoiousian, and grimaced and pretended + to be very very fierce and exact to hide how much they were frightened and + how little they knew, and because they did not dare to lay violent hands + upon that usurper of the empire of the world.... + </p> + <p> + “And from that day forth the Christian churches have been damned and lost. + Kept churches. Lackey churches. Roman, Russian, Anglican; it matters not. + My church indeed was twice sold, for it doubled the sin of Nicaea and gave + itself over to Henry and Elizabeth while it shammed a dispute about the + sacraments. No one cared really about transubstantiation any more than the + earlier betrayers cared about consubstantiality; that dispute did but + serve to mask the betrayal.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to the listening Angel. “What can you show me of my church that + I do not know? Why! we Anglican bishops get our sees as footmen get a job. + For months Victoria, that old German Frau, delayed me—because of + some tittle-tattle.... The things we are! Snape, who afterwards became + Bishop of Burnham, used to waylay the Prince Consort when he was riding in + Hyde Park and give him, he boasts, 'a good loud cheer,' and then he would + run very fast across the park so as to catch him as he came round, and do + it again.... It is to that sort of thing we bearers of the light have + sunken.... + </p> + <p> + “I have always despised that poor toady,” the bishop went on. “And yet + here am I, and God has called me and shown me the light of his + countenance, and for a month I have faltered. That is the mystery of the + human heart, that it can and does sin against the light. What right have + I, who have seen the light—and failed, what right have I—to + despise any other human being? I seem to have been held back by a sort of + paralysis. + </p> + <p> + “Men are so small, so small still, that they cannot keep hold of the + vision of God. That is why I want to see God again.... But if it were not + for this strange drug that seems for a little while to lift my mind above + the confusion and personal entanglements of every day, I doubt if even now + I could be here. I am here, passionate to hold this moment and keep the + light. As this inspiration passes, I shall go back, I know, to my home and + my place and my limitations. The littleness of men! The forgetfulness of + men! I want to know what my chief duty is, to have it plain, in terms so + plain that I can never forget. + </p> + <p> + “See in this world,” he said, turning to the globe, “while Chinese + merchants and Turkish troopers, school-board boys and Norwegian fishermen, + half-trained nurses and Boer farmers are full of the spirit of God, see + how the priests of the churches of Nicaea spend their time.” + </p> + <p> + And now it was the bishop whose dark hands ran over the great silver + globe, and it was the Angel who stood over him and listened, as a teacher + might stand over a child who is learning a lesson. The bishop's hand + rested for a second on a cardinal who was planning a political intrigue to + produce a reaction in France, then for a moment on a Pomeranian pastor who + was going out to his well-tilled fields with his Sunday sermon, full of + fierce hatred of England, still echoing in his head. Then he paused at a + Mollah preaching the Jehad, in doubt whether he too wasn't a German + pastor, and then at an Anglican clergyman still lying abed and thinking + out a great mission of Repentance and Hope that should restore the + authority of the established church—by incoherent missioning—without + any definite sin indicated for repentance nor any clear hope for anything + in particular arising out of such activities. The bishop's hand went + seeking to and fro, but nowhere could he find any religious teacher, any + religious body rousing itself to meet the new dawn of faith in the world. + Some few men indeed seemed thoughtful, but within the limitation of their + vows. Everywhere it was church and creed and nation and king and property + and partisanship, and nowhere was it the True God that the priests and + teachers were upholding. It was always the common unhampered man through + whom the light of God was breaking; it was always the creed and the + organization of the religious professionals that stood in the way to + God.... + </p> + <p> + “God is putting the priests aside,” he cried, “and reaching out to common + men. The churches do not serve God. They stand between man and God. They + are like great barricades on the way to God.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop's hand brushed over Archbishop Pontifex, who was just coming + down to breakfast in his palace. This pompous old man was dressed in a + purple garment that set off his tall figure very finely, and he was + holding out his episcopal ring for his guests to kiss, that being the + customary morning greeting of Archbishop Pontifex. The thought of that + ring-kissing had made much hard work at lower levels “worth while” to + Archbishop Pontifex. And seventy miles away from him old Likeman + breakfasted in bed on Benger's food, and searched his Greek Testament for + tags to put to his letters. And here was the familiar palace at + Princhester, and in an armchair in his bed-room sat Bishop Scrope + insensible and motionless, in a trance in which he was dreaming of the + coming of God. + </p> + <p> + “I see my futility. I see my vanity. But what am I to do?” he said, + turning to the darkness that now wrapped about the Angel again, fold upon + fold. “The implications of yesterday bind me for the morrow. This is my + world. This is what I am and what I am in. How can I save myself? How can + I turn from these habits and customs and obligations to the service of the + one true God? When I see myself, then I understand how it is with the + others. All we priests and teachers are men caught in nets. I would serve + God. Easily said! But how am I to serve God? How am I to help and forward + His coming, to make myself part of His coming?” + </p> + <p> + He perceived that he was returning into himself, and that the vision of + the sphere and of the starry spaces was fading into non-existence. + </p> + <p> + He struggled against this return. He felt that his demand was still + unanswered. His wife's face had suddenly come very close to him, and he + realized she intervened between him and that solution. + </p> + <p> + What was she doing here? + </p> + <p> + (9) + </p> + <p> + The great Angel seemed still to be near at hand, limitless space was all + about him, and yet the bishop perceived that he was now sitting in the + arm-chair in his bedroom in the palace of Princhester. He was both there + and not there. It seemed now as if he had two distinct yet kindred selves, + and that the former watched the latter. The latter was now awakening to + the things about him; the former marked his gestures and listened with an + entire detachment to the words he was saying. These words he was saying to + Lady Ella: “God is coming to rule the world, I tell you. We must leave the + church.” + </p> + <p> + Close to him sat Lady Ella, watching him with an expression in which + dismay and resolution mingled. Upon the other side of him, upon a little + occasional table, was a tray with breakfast things. He was no longer the + watcher now, but the watched. + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella bent towards him as he spoke. She seemed to struggle with and + dismiss his astonishing statement. + </p> + <p> + “Edward,” she said, “you have been taking a drug.” He looked round at his + night table to see the little phial. It had gone. Then he saw that Lady + Ella held it very firmly in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Dunk came to me in great distress. He said you were insensible and + breathing heavily. I came. I realized. I told him to say nothing to any + one, but to fetch me a tray with your breakfast. I have kept all the other + servants away and I have waited here by you.... Dunk I think is safe.... + You have been muttering and moving your head from side to side....” + </p> + <p> + The bishop's mind was confused. He felt as though God must be standing + just outside the room. “I have failed in my duty,” he said. “But I am very + near to God.” He laid his hand on her arm. “You know, Ella, He is very + close to us....” + </p> + <p> + She looked perplexed. + </p> + <p> + He sat up in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “For some months now,” he said, “there have been new forces at work in my + mind. I have been invaded by strange doubts and still stranger + realizations. This old church of ours is an empty mask. God is not + specially concerned in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Edward!” she cried, “what are you saying?” + </p> + <p> + “I have been hesitating to tell you. But I see now I must tell you + plainly. Our church is a cast hull. It is like the empty skin of a snake. + God has gone out of it.” + </p> + <p> + She rose to her feet. She was so horrified that she staggered backward, + pushing her chair behind her. “But you are mad,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He was astonished at her distress. He stood up also. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” he said, “I can assure you I am not mad. I should have prepared + you, I know....” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him wild-eyed. Then she glanced at the phial, gripped in her + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she exclaimed, and going swiftly to the window emptied out the + contents of the little bottle. He realized what she was doing too late to + prevent her. + </p> + <p> + “Don't waste that!” he cried, and stepping forward caught hold of her + wrist. The phial fell from her white fingers, and crashed upon the rough + paved garden path below. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” he cried, “my dear. You do not understand.” + </p> + <p> + They stood face to face. “It was a tonic,” he said. “I have been ill. I + need it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a drug,” she answered. “You have been uttering blasphemies.” + </p> + <p> + He dropped her arm and walked half-way across the room. Then he turned and + faced her. + </p> + <p> + “They are not blasphemies,” he said. “But I ought not to have surprised + you and shocked you as I have done. I want to tell you of changes that + have happened to my mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Now!” she exclaimed, and then: “I will not hear them now. Until you are + better. Until these fumes—” + </p> + <p> + Her manner changed. “Oh, Edward!” she cried, “why have you done this? Why + have you taken things secretly? I know you have been sleepless, but I have + been so ready to help you. I have been willing—you know I have been + willing—for any help. My life is all to be of use to you....” + </p> + <p> + “Is there any reason,” she pleaded, “why you should have hidden things + from me?” + </p> + <p> + He stood remorseful and distressed. “I should have talked to you,” he said + lamely. + </p> + <p> + “Edward,” she said, laying her hands on his shoulders, “will you do one + thing for me? Will you try to eat a little breakfast? And stay here? I + will go down to Mr. Whippham and arrange whatever is urgent with him. + Perhaps if you rest—There is nothing really imperative until the + confirmation in the afternoon.... I do not understand all this. For some + time—I have felt it was going on. But of that we can talk. The thing + now is that people should not know, that nothing should be seen.... + Suppose for instance that horrible White Blackbird were to hear of it.... + I implore you. If you rest here—And if I were to send for that young + doctor who attended Miriam.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want a doctor,” said the bishop. + </p> + <p> + “But you ought to have a doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't have a doctor,” said the bishop. + </p> + <p> + It was with a perplexed but powerless dissent that the externalized + perceptions of the bishop witnessed his agreement with the rest of Lady + Ella's proposals so soon as this point about the doctor was conceded. + </p> + <p> + (10) + </p> + <p> + For the rest of that day until his breakdown in the cathedral the sense of + being in two places at the same time haunted the bishop's mind. He stood + beside the Angel in the great space amidst the stars, and at the same time + he was back in his ordinary life, he was in his palace at Princhester, + first resting in his bedroom and talking to his wife and presently taking + up the routines of his duties again in his study downstairs. + </p> + <p> + His chief task was to finish his two addresses for the confirmation + services of the day. He read over his notes, and threw them aside and + remained for a time thinking deeply. The Greek tags at the end of + Likeman's letter came into his thoughts; they assumed a quality of + peculiar relevance to this present occasion. He repeated the words: + “Epitelesei. Epiphausei.” + </p> + <p> + He took his little Testament to verify them. After some slight trouble he + located the two texts. The first, from Philippians, ran in the old + version, “He that hath begun a good work in you will perform it”; the + second was expressed thus: “Christ shall give thee light.” He was + dissatisfied with these renderings and resorted to the revised version, + which gave “perfect” instead of “perform,” and “shall shine upon you” for + “give thee light.” He reflected profoundly for a time. + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly his addresses began to take shape in his mind, and these + little points lost any significance. He began to write rapidly, and as he + wrote he felt the Angel stood by his right hand and read and approved what + he was writing. There were moments when his mind seemed to be working + entirely beyond his control. He had a transitory questioning whether this + curious intellectual automatism was not perhaps what people meant by + “inspiration.” + </p> + <p> + (11) + </p> + <p> + The bishop had always been sensitive to the secret fount of pathos that is + hidden in the spectacle of youth. Long years ago when he and Lady Ella had + been in Florence he had been moved to tears by the beauty of the + fresh-faced eager Tobit who runs beside the great angel in the picture of + Botticelli. And suddenly and almost as uncontrollably, that feeling + returned at the sight of the young congregation below him, of all these + scores of neophytes who were gathered to make a public acknowledgment of + God. The war has invested all youth now with the shadow of tragedy; before + it came many of us were a little envious of youth and a little too assured + of its certainty of happiness. All that has changed. Fear and a certain + tender solicitude mingle in our regard for every child; not a lad we pass + in the street but may presently be called to face such pain and stress and + danger as no ancient hero ever knew. The patronage, the insolent + condescension of age, has vanished out of the world. It is dreadful to + look upon the young. + </p> + <p> + He stood surveying the faces of the young people as the rector read the + Preface to the confirmation service. How simple they were, how innocent! + Some were a little flushed by the excitement of the occasion; some a + little pallid. But they were all such tender faces, so soft in outline, so + fresh and delicate in texture and colour. They had soft credulous mouths. + Some glanced sideways at one another; some listened with a forced + intentness. The expression of one good-looking boy, sitting in a corner + scat, struck the bishop as being curiously defiant. He stood very erect, + he blinked his eyes as though they smarted, his lips were compressed + bitterly. And then it seemed to the bishop that the Angel stood beside him + and gave him understanding. + </p> + <p> + “He is here,” the bishop knew, “because he could not avoid coming. He + tried to excuse himself. His mother wept. What could he do? But the + church's teaching nowadays fails even to grip the minds of boys.” + </p> + <p> + The rector came to the end of his Preface: “They will evermore endeavour + themselves faithfully to observe such things as they by their own + confession have assented unto.” + </p> + <p> + “Like a smart solicitor pinning them down,” said the bishop to himself, + and then roused himself, unrolled the little paper in his hand, leant + forward, and straightway began his first address. + </p> + <p> + Nowadays it is possible to say very unorthodox things indeed in an + Anglican pulpit unchallenged. There remains no alert doctrinal criticism + in the church congregations. It was possible, therefore, for the bishop to + say all that follows without either hindrance or disturbance. The only + opposition, indeed, came from within, from a sense of dreamlike + incongruity between the place and the occasion and the things that he + found himself delivering. + </p> + <p> + “All ceremonies,” he began, “grow old. All ceremonies are tainted even + from the first by things less worthy than their first intention, and you, + my dear sons and daughters, who have gathered to-day in this worn and + ancient building, beneath these monuments to ancient vanities and these + symbols of forgotten or abandoned theories about the mystery of God, will + do well to distinguish in your minds between what is essential and what is + superfluous and confusing in this dedication you make of yourselves to God + our Master and King. For that is the real thing you seek to do today, to + give yourselves to God. This is your spiritual coming of age, in which you + set aside your childish dependence upon teachers and upon taught phrases, + upon rote and direction, and stand up to look your Master in the face. You + profess a great brotherhood when you do that, a brotherhood that goes + round the earth, that numbers men of every race and nation and country, + that aims to bring God into all the affairs of this world and make him not + only the king of your individual lives but the king—in place of all + the upstarts, usurpers, accidents, and absurdities who bear crowns and + sceptres today—of an united mankind.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and in the pause he heard a little rustle as though the + congregation before him was sitting up in its places, a sound that always + nerves and reassures an experienced preacher. + </p> + <p> + “This, my dear children, is the reality of this grave business to-day, as + indeed it is the real and practical end of all true religion. This is your + sacrament urn, your soldier's oath. You salute and give your fealty to the + coming Kingdom of God. And upon that I would have you fix your minds to + the exclusion of much that, I know only too well, has been narrow and evil + and sectarian in your preparation for this solemn rite. God is like a + precious jewel found among much rubble; you must cast the rubble from you. + The crowning triumph of the human mind is simplicity; the supreme + significance of God lies in his unity and universality. The God you salute + to-day is the God of the Jews and Gentiles alike, the God of Islam, the + God of the Brahmo Somaj, the unknown God of many a righteous unbeliever. + He is not the God of those felted theologies and inexplicable doctrines + with which your teachers may have confused your minds. I would have it + very clear in your minds that having drunken the draught you should not + reverence unduly the cracked old vessel that has brought it to your lips. + I should be falling short of my duty if I did not make that and everything + I mean by that altogether plain to you.” + </p> + <p> + He saw the lad whose face of dull defiance he had marked before, sitting + now with a startled interest in his eyes. The bishop leant over the desk + before him, and continued in the persuasive tone of a man who speaks of + things too manifest for laboured argument. + </p> + <p> + “In all ages religion has come from God through broad-minded creative men, + and in all ages it has fallen very quickly into the hands of intense and + conservative men. These last—narrow, fearful, and suspicious—have + sought in every age to save the precious gift of religion by putting it + into a prison of formulae and asseverations. Bear that in mind when you + are pressed to definition. It is as if you made a box hermetically sealed + to save the treasure of a fresh breeze from the sea. But they have sought + out exact statements and tortuous explanations of the plain truth of God, + they have tried to take down God in writing, to commit him to documents, + to embalm his living faith as though it would otherwise corrupt. So they + have lost God and fallen into endless differences, disputes, violence, and + darkness about insignificant things. They have divided religion between + this creed and teacher and that. The corruption of the best is the worst, + said Aristotle; and the great religions of the world, and especially this + Christianity of ours, are the ones most darkened and divided and wasted by + the fussings and false exactitudes of the creed-monger and the sectary. + There is no lie so bad as a stale disfigured truth. There is no heresy so + damnable as a narrow orthodoxy. All religious associations carry this + danger of the over-statement that misstates and the over-emphasis that + divides and betrays. Beware of that danger. Do not imagine, because you + are gathered in this queerly beautiful old building today, because I + preside here in this odd raiment of an odder compromise, because you see + about you in coloured glass and carven stone the emblems of much vain + disputation, that thereby you cut yourselves off and come apart from the + great world of faith, Catholic, Islamic, Brahministic, Buddhistic, that + grows now to a common consciousness of the near Advent of God our King. + You enter that waiting world fraternity now, you do not leave it. This + place, this church of ours, should be to you not a seclusion and a + fastness but a door. + </p> + <p> + “I could quote you a score of instances to establish that this simple + universalism was also the teaching of Christ. But now I will only remind + you that it was Mary who went to her lord simply, who was commended, and + not Martha who troubled about many things. Learn from the Mary of Faith + and not from these Marthas of the Creeds. Let us abandon the presumptions + of an ignorant past. The perfection of doctrine is not for finite men. + Give yourselves to God. Give yourselves to God. Not to churches and uses, + but to God. To God simply. He is the first word of religion and the last. + He is Alpha; he is Omega. Epitelesei; it is He who will finish the good + work begun.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop ended his address in a vivid silence. Then he began his + interrogation. + </p> + <p> + “Do you here, in the presence of God, and of this congregation, renew the + solemn promise and vow that was made in your name at your Baptism; + ratifying and confirming the same in your own persons, and acknowledging + yourselves—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped short. The next words were: “bound to believe and do all those + things, which your Godfathers and Godmothers then undertook for you.” + </p> + <p> + He could not stand those words. He hesitated, and then substituted: + “acknowledge yourselves to be the true servants of the one God, who is the + Lord of Mankind?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment silence hung in the cathedral. Then one voice, a boy's voice, + led a ragged response. “I do.” + </p> + <p> + Then the bishop: “Our help is in the Name of the Lord.” + </p> + <p> + The congregation answered doubtfully, with a glance at its prayer books: + “Who hath made heaven and earth.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop: “Blessed be the name of the Lord.” + </p> + <p> + The congregation said with returning confidence: “Henceforth, world + without end.” + </p> + <p> + (12) + </p> + <p> + Before his second address the bishop had to listen to Veni Creator + Spiritus, in its English form, and it seemed to him the worst of all + possible hymns. Its defects became monstrously exaggerated to his + hypersensitive mind. It impressed him in its Englished travesty as a + grotesque, as a veritable Charlie Chaplin among hymns, and in truth it + does stick out most awkward feet, it misses its accusatives, it catches + absurdly upon points of abstruse doctrine. The great Angel stood + motionless and ironical at the bishop's elbow while it was being sung. + “Your church,” he seemed to say. + </p> + <p> + “We must end this sort of thing,” whispered the bishop. “We must end this + sort of thing—absolutely.” He glanced at the faces of the singers, + and it became beyond all other things urgent, that he should lift them + once for all above the sectarian dogmatism of that hymn to a simple vision + of God's light.... + </p> + <p> + He roused himself to the touching business of the laying on of hands. + While he did so the prepared substance of his second address was running + through his mind. The following prayer and collects he read without + difficulty, and so came to his second address. His disposition at first + was explanatory. + </p> + <p> + “When I spoke to you just now,” he began, “I fell unintentionally into the + use of a Greek word, epitelesei. It was written to me in a letter from a + friend with another word that also I am now going to quote to you. This + letter touched very closely upon the things I want to say to you now, and + so these two words are very much in my mind. The former one was taken from + the Epistle to the Philippians; it signifies, 'He will complete the work + begun'; the one I have now in mind comes from the Epistle to the + Ephesians; it is Epiphausei—or, to be fuller, epiphausei soi ho + Christos, which signifies that He will shine upon us. And this is very + much in my thoughts now because I do believe that this world, which seemed + so very far from God a little while ago, draws near now to an unexampled + dawn. God is at hand. + </p> + <p> + “It is your privilege, it is your grave and terrible position, that you + have been born at the very end and collapse of a negligent age, of an age + of sham kingship, sham freedom, relaxation, evasion, greed, waste, + falsehood, and sinister preparation. Your lives open out in the midst of + the breakdown for which that age prepared. To you negligence is no longer + possible. There is cold and darkness, there is the heat of the furnace + before you; you will live amidst extremes such as our youth never knew; + whatever betide, you of your generation will have small chance of living + untempered lives. Our country is at war and half mankind is at war; death + and destruction trample through the world; men rot and die by the million, + food diminishes and fails, there is a wasting away of all the hoarded + resources, of all the accumulated well-being of mankind; and there is no + clear prospect yet of any end to this enormous and frightful conflict. Why + did it ever arise? What made it possible? It arose because men had + forgotten God. It was possible because they worshipped simulacra, were + loyal to phantoms of race and empire, permitted themselves to be ruled and + misled by idiot princes and usurper kings. Their minds were turned from + God, who alone can rule and unite mankind, and so they have passed from + the glare and follies of those former years into the darkness and anguish + of the present day. And in darkness and anguish they will remain until + they turn to that King who comes to rule them, until the sword and + indignation of God have overthrown their misleaders and oppressors, and + the Justice of God, the Kingdom of God set high over the republics of + mankind, has brought peace for ever to the world. It is to this militant + and imminent God, to this immortal Captain, this undying Law-giver, that + you devote yourselves to-day. + </p> + <p> + “For he is imminent now. He comes. I have seen in the east and in the + west, the hearts and the minds and the wills of men turning to him as + surely as when a needle is magnetized it turns towards the north. Even now + as I preach to you here, God stands over us all, ready to receive us....” + </p> + <p> + And as he said these words, the long nave of the cathedral, the shadows of + its fretted roof, the brown choir with its golden screen, the rows of + seated figures, became like some picture cast upon a flimsy and + translucent curtain. Once more it seemed to the bishop that he saw God + plain. Once more the glorious effulgence poured about him, and the + beautiful and wonderful conquest of men's hearts and lives was manifest to + him. + </p> + <p> + He lifted up his hands and cried to God, and with an emotion so profound, + an earnestness so commanding, that very many of those who were present + turned their faces to see the figure to which he looked and spoke. And + some of the children had a strange persuasion of a presence there, as of a + divine figure militant, armed, and serene.... + </p> + <p> + “Oh God our Leader and our Master and our Friend,” the bishop prayed, + “forgive our imperfection and our little motives, take us and make us one + with thy great purpose, use us and do not reject us, make us all here + servants of thy kingdom, weave our lives into thy struggle to conquer and + to bring peace and union to the world. We are small and feeble creatures, + we are feeble in speech, feebler still in action, nevertheless let but thy + light shine upon us and there is not one of us who cannot be lit by thy + fire, and who cannot lose himself in thy salvation. Take us into thy + purpose, O God. Let thy kingdom come into our hearts and into this world.” + </p> + <p> + His voice ceased, and he stood for a measurable time with his arms + extended and his face upturned.... + </p> + <p> + The golden clouds that whirled and eddied so splendidly in his brain + thinned out, his sense of God's immediacy faded and passed, and he was + left aware of the cathedral pulpit in which he stood so strangely posed, + and of the astonished congregation below him. His arms sank to his side. + His eyes fell upon the book in front of him and he felt for and gripped + the two upper corners of it and, regardless of the common order and + practice, read out the Benediction, changing the words involuntarily as he + read: + </p> + <p> + “The Blessing of God who is the Father, the Son, the Spirit and the King + of all Mankind, be upon you and remain with you for ever. Amen.” + </p> + <p> + Then he looked again, as if to look once more upon that radiant vision of + God, but now he saw only the clear cool space of the cathedral vault and + the coloured glass and tracery of the great rose window. And then, as the + first notes of the organ came pealing above the departing stir of the + congregation, he turned about and descended slowly, like one who is still + half dreaming, from the pulpit. + </p> + <p> + (13) + </p> + <p> + In the vestry he found Canon Bliss. “Help me to take off these garments,” + the bishop said. “I shall never wear them again.” + </p> + <p> + “You are ill,” said the canon, scrutinizing his face. + </p> + <p> + “Not ill. But the word was taken out of my mouth. I perceive now that I + have been in a trance, a trance in which the truth is real. It is a + fearful thing to find oneself among realities. It is a dreadful thing when + God begins to haunt a priest.... I can never minister in the church + again.” + </p> + <p> + Whippham thrust forward a chair for the bishop to sit down. The bishop + felt now extraordinarily fatigued. He sat down heavily, and rested his + wrists on the arms of the chair. “Already,” he resumed presently, “I begin + to forget what it was I said.” + </p> + <p> + “You became excited,” said Bliss, “and spoke very loudly and clearly.” + </p> + <p> + “What did I say?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you said; I have forgotten. I never want to remember. + Things about the Second Advent. Dreadful things. You said God was close at + hand. Happily you spoke partly in Greek. I doubt if any of those children + understood. And you had a kind of lapse—an aphasia. You mutilated + the interrogation and you did not pronounce the benediction properly. You + changed words and you put in words. One sat frozen—waiting for what + would happen next.” + </p> + <p> + “We must postpone the Pringle confirmation,” said Whippham. “I wonder to + whom I could telephone.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella appeared, and came and knelt down by the bishop's chair. “I + never ought to have let this happen,” she said, taking his wrists in her + hands. “You are in a fever, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “It seemed entirely natural to say what I did,” the bishop declared. + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella looked up at Bliss. + </p> + <p> + “A doctor has been sent for,” said the canon to Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + “I must speak to the doctor,” said Lady Ella as if her husband could not + hear her. “There is something that will make things clearer to the doctor. + I must speak to the doctor for a moment before he sees him.” + </p> + <p> + Came a gust of pretty sounds and a flash of bright colour that shamed the + rich vestments at hand. Over the shoulder of the rector and quite at the + back, appeared Lady Sunderbund resolutely invading the vestry. The rector + intercepted her, stood broad with extended arms. + </p> + <p> + “I must come in and speak to him. If it is only fo' a moment.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop looked up and saw Lady Ella's expression. Lady Ella was sitting + up very stiffly, listening but not looking round. + </p> + <p> + A vague horror and a passionate desire to prevent the entry of Lady + Sunderbund at any cost, seized upon the bishop. She would, he felt, be the + last overwhelming complication. He descended to a base subterfuge. He lay + back in his chair slowly as though he unfolded himself, he covered his + eyes with his hand and then groaned aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Leave me alone!” he cried in a voice of agony. “Leave me alone! I can see + no one.... I can—no more.” + </p> + <p> + There was a momentous silence, and then the tumult of Lady Sunderbund + receded. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THE EIGHTH - THE NEW WORLD + </h2> + <h3> + (1) + </h3> + <p> + THAT night the bishop had a temperature of a hundred and a half. The + doctor pronounced him to be in a state of intense mental excitement, + aggravated by some drug. He was a doctor modern and clear-minded enough to + admit that he could not identify the drug. He overruled, every one + overruled, the bishop's declaration that he had done with the church, that + he could never mock God with his episcopal ministrations again, that he + must proceed at once with his resignation. “Don't think of these things,” + said the doctor. “Banish them from your mind until your temperature is + down to ninety-eight. Then after a rest you may go into them.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella insisted upon his keeping his room. It was with difficulty that + he got her to admit Whippham, and Whippham was exasperatingly in order. + “You need not trouble about anything now, my lord,” he said. “Everything + will keep until you are ready to attend to it. It's well we're through + with Easter. Bishop Buncombe of Eastern Blowdesia was coming here anyhow. + And there is Canon Bliss. There's only two ordination candidates because + of the war. We'll get on swimmingly.” + </p> + <p> + The bishop thought he would like to talk to those two ordination + candidates, but they prevailed upon him not to do so. He lay for the best + part of one night confiding remarkable things to two imaginary ordination + candidates. + </p> + <p> + He developed a marked liking for Eleanor's company. She was home again now + after a visit to some friends. It was decided that the best thing to do + with him would be to send him away in her charge. A journey abroad was + impossible. France would remind him too dreadfully of the war. His own + mind turned suddenly to the sweet air of Hunstanton. He had gone there at + times to read, in the old Cambridge days. “It is a terribly ugly place,” + he said, “but it is wine in the veins.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella was doubtful about Zeppelins. Thrice they had been right over + Hunstanton already. They came in by the easy landmark of the Wash. + </p> + <p> + “It will interest him,” said Eleanor, who knew her father better. + </p> + <p> + (2) + </p> + <p> + One warm and still and sunny afternoon the bishop found himself looking + out upon the waters of the Wash. He sat where the highest pebble layers of + the beach reached up to a little cliff of sandy earth perhaps a foot high, + and he looked upon sands and sea and sky and saw that they were beautiful. + </p> + <p> + He was a little black-gaitered object in a scene of the most exquisite and + delicate colour. Right and left of him stretched the low grey salted + shore, pale banks of marly earth surmounted by green-grey wiry grass that + held and was half buried in fine blown sand. Above, the heavens made a + complete hemisphere of blue in which a series of remote cumulus clouds + floated and dissolved. Before him spread the long levels of the sands, and + far away at its utmost ebb was the sea. Eleanor had gone to explore the + black ribs of a wrecked fishing-boat that lay at the edge of a shallow + lagoon. She was a little pink-footed figure, very bright and apparently + transparent. She had reverted for a time to shameless childishness; she + had hidden her stockings among the reeds of the bank, and she was running + to and fro, from star-fish to razor shell and from cockle to weed. The + shingle was pale drab and purple close at hand, but to the westward, + towards Hunstanton, the sands became brown and purple, and were presently + broken up into endless skerries of low flat weed-covered boulders and + little intensely blue pools. The sea was a band of sapphire that became + silver to the west; it met the silver shining sands in one delicate + breathing edge of intensely white foam. Remote to the west, very small and + black and clear against the afternoon sky, was a cart, and about it was a + score or so of mussel-gatherers. A little nearer, on an apparently empty + stretch of shining wet sand, a multitude of gulls was mysteriously busy. + These two groups of activities and Eleanor's flitting translucent + movements did but set off and emphasize the immense and soothing + tranquillity. + </p> + <p> + For a long time the bishop sat passively receptive to this healing beauty. + Then a little flow of thought began and gathered in his mind. He had come + out to think over two letters that he had brought with him. He drew these + now rather reluctantly from his pocket, and after a long pause over the + envelopes began to read them. + </p> + <p> + He reread Likeman's letter first. + </p> + <p> + Likeman could not forgive him. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Scrope,” he wrote, “your explanation explains nothing. This + sensational declaration of infidelity to our mother church, made under the + most damning and distressing circumstances in the presence of young and + tender minds entrusted to your ministrations, and in defiance of the + honourable engagements implied in the confirmation service, confirms my + worst apprehensions of the weaknesses of your character. I have always + felt the touch of theatricality in your temperament, the peculiar craving + to be pseudo-deeper, pseudo-simpler than us all, the need of personal + excitement. I know that you were never quite contented to believe in God + at second-hand. You wanted to be taken notice of—personally. Except + for some few hints to you, I have never breathed a word of these doubts to + any human being; I have always hoped that the ripening that comes with + years and experience would give you an increasing strength against the + dangers of emotionalism and against your strong, deep, quiet sense of your + exceptional personal importance....” + </p> + <p> + The bishop read thus far, and then sat reflecting. + </p> + <p> + Was it just? + </p> + <p> + He had many weaknesses, but had he this egotism? No; that wasn't the + justice of the case. The old man, bitterly disappointed, was endeavouring + to wound. Scrope asked himself whether he was to blame for that + disappointment. That was a more difficult question.... + </p> + <p> + He dismissed the charge at last, crumpled up the letter in his hand, and + after a moment's hesitation flung it away.... But he remained acutely + sorry, not so much for himself as for the revelation of Likeman this + letter made. He had had a great affection for Likeman and suddenly it was + turned into a wound. + </p> + <p> + (3) + </p> + <p> + The second letter was from Lady Sunderbund, and it was an altogether more + remarkable document. Lady Sunderbund wrote on a notepaper that was + evidently the result of a perverse research, but she wrote a letter far + more coherent than her speech, and without that curious falling away of + the r's that flavoured even her gravest observations with an unjust faint + aroma of absurdity. She wrote with a thin pen in a rounded boyish + handwriting. She italicized with slashes of the pen. + </p> + <p> + He held this letter in both hands between his knees, and considered it now + with an expression that brought his eyebrows forward until they almost + met, and that tucked in the corners of his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Bishop,” it began. + </p> + <p> + “I keep thinking and thinking and thinking of that wonderful service, of + the wonderful, wonderful things you said, and the wonderful choice you + made of the moment to say them—when all those young lives were + coming to the great serious thing in life. It was most beautifully done. + At any rate, dear Bishop and Teacher, it was most beautifully begun. And + now we all stand to you like creditors because you have given us so much + that you owe us ever so much more. You have started us and you have to go + on with us. You have broken the shell of the old church, and here we are + running about with nowhere to go. You have to make the shelter of a new + church now for us, purged of errors, looking straight to God. The King of + Mankind!—what a wonderful, wonderful phrase that is. It says + everything. Tell us more of him and more. Count me first—not + foremost, but just the little one that runs in first—among your + disciples. They say you are resigning your position in the church. Of + course that must be true. You are coming out of it—what did you call + it?—coming out of the cracked old vessel from which you have poured + the living waters. I called on Lady Ella yesterday. She did not tell me + very much; I think she is a very reserved as well as a very dignified + woman, but she said that you intended to go to London. In London then I + suppose you will set up the first altar to the Divine King. I want to + help. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Bishop and Teacher, I want to help tremendously—with all my + heart and all my soul. I want to be let do things for you.” (The “you” was + erased by three or four rapid slashes, and “our King” substituted.) + </p> + <p> + “I want to be privileged to help build that First Church of the World + Unified under God. It is a dreadful thing to says but, you see, I am very + rich; this dreadful war has made me ever so much richer—steel and + shipping and things—it is my trustees have done it. I am ashamed to + be so rich. I want to give. I want to give and help this great beginning + of yours. I want you to let me help on the temporal side, to make it easy + for you to stand forth and deliver your message, amidst suitable + surroundings and without any horrid worries on account of the sacrifices + you have made. Please do not turn my offering aside. I have never wanted + anything so much in all my life as I want to make this gift. Unless I can + make it I feel that for me there is no salvation! I shall stick with my + loads and loads of stocks and shares and horrid possessions outside the + Needle's Eye. But if I could build a temple for God, and just live + somewhere near it so as to be the poor woman who sweeps out the chapels, + and die perhaps and be buried under its floor! Don't smile at me. I mean + every word of it. Years ago I thought of such a thing. After I had visited + the Certosa di Pavia—do you know it? So beautiful, and those two + still alabaster figures—recumbent. But until now I could never see + my way to any such service. Now I do. I am all afire to do it. Help me! + Tell me! Let me stand behind you and make your mission possible. I feel I + have come to the most wonderful phase in my life. I feel my call has + come.... + </p> + <p> + “I have written this letter over three times, and torn each of them up. I + do so want to say all this, and it is so desperately hard to say. I am + full of fears that you despise me. I know there is a sort of high colour + about me. My passion for brightness. I am absurd. But inside of me is a + soul, a real, living, breathing soul. Crying out to you: 'Oh, let me help! + Let me help!' I will do anything, I will endure anything if only I can + keep hold of the vision splendid you gave me in the cathedral. I see it + now day and night, the dream of the place I can make for you—and you + preaching! My fingers itch to begin. The day before yesterday I said to + myself, 'I am quite unworthy, I am a worldly woman, a rich, smart, + decorated woman. He will never accept me as I am.' I took off all my + jewels, every one, I looked through all my clothes, and at last I decided + I would have made for me a very simple straight grey dress, just simple + and straight and grey. Perhaps you will think that too is absurd of me, + too self-conscious. I would not tell of it to you if I did not want you to + understand how alive I am to my utter impossibilities, how resolved I am + to do anything so that I may be able to serve. But never mind about silly + me; let me tell you how I see the new church. + </p> + <p> + “I think you ought to have some place near the centre of London; not too + west, for you might easily become fashionable, not too east because you + might easily be swallowed up in merely philanthropic work, but somewhere + between the two. There must be vacant sites still to be got round about + Kingsway. And there we must set up your tabernacle, a very plain, very + simple, very beautifully proportioned building in which you can give your + message. I know a young man, just the very young man to do something of + the sort, something quite new, quite modern, and yet solemn and serious. + Lady Ella seemed to think you wanted to live somewhere in the north-west + of London—but she would tell me very little. I seem to see you not + there at all, not in anything between west-end and suburb, but yourself as + central as your mind, in a kind of clergy house that will be part of the + building. That is how it is in my dream anyhow. All that though can be + settled afterwards. My imagination and my desire is running away with me. + It is no time yet for premature plans. Not that I am not planning day and + night. This letter is simply to offer. I just want to offer. Here I am and + all my worldly goods. Take me, I pray you. And not only pray you. Take me, + I demand of you, in the name of God our king. I have a right to be used. + And you have no right to refuse me. You have to go on with your message, + and it is your duty to take me—just as you are obliged to step on + any steppingstone that lies on your way to do God service.... And so I am + waiting. I shall be waiting—on thorns. I know you will take your + time and think. But do not take too much time. Think of me waiting. + </p> + <p> + “Your servant, your most humble helper in God (your God), + </p> + <p> + “AGATHA SUNDERBUND.” + </p> + <p> + And then scrawled along the margin of the last sheet: + </p> + <p> + “If, when you know—a telegram. Even if you cannot say so much as + 'Agreed,' still such a word as 'Favourable.' I just hang over the Void + until I hear. + </p> + <p> + “AGATHA S.” + </p> + <p> + A letter demanding enormous deliberation. She argued closely in spite of + her italics. It had never dawned upon the bishop before how light is the + servitude of the disciple in comparison with the servitude of the master. + In many ways this proposal repelled and troubled him, in many ways it + attracted him. And the argument of his clear obligation to accept her + co-operation gripped him; it was a good argument. + </p> + <p> + And besides it worked in very conveniently with certain other difficulties + that perplexed him. + </p> + <p> + (4) + </p> + <p> + The bishop became aware that Eleanor was returning to him across the + sands. She had made an end to her paddling, she had put on her shoes and + stockings and become once more the grave and responsible young woman who + had been taking care of him since his flight from Princhester. He replaced + the two letters in his pocket, and sat ready to smile as she drew near; he + admired her open brow, the toss of her hair, and the poise of her head + upon her neck. It was good to note that her hard reading at Cambridge + hadn't bent her shoulders in the least.... + </p> + <p> + “Well, old Dad!” she said as she drew near. “You've got back a colour.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got back everything. It's time I returned to Princhester.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in this weather. Not for a day or so.” She flung herself at his feet. + “Consider your overworked little daughter. Oh,how good this is!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the bishop in a grave tone that made her look up into his face. + “I must go hack.” + </p> + <p> + He met her clear gaze. “What do you think of all this business, Eleanor?” + he asked abruptly. “Do you think I had a sort of fit in the cathedral?” + </p> + <p> + He winced as he asked the question. + </p> + <p> + “Daddy,” she said, after a little pause; “the things you said and did that + afternoon were the noblest you ever did in your life. I wish I had been + there. It must have been splendid to be there. I've not told you before—I've + been dying to.... I'd promised not to say a word—not to remind you. + I promised the doctor. But now you ask me, now you are well again, I can + tell you. Kitty Kingdom has told me all about it, how it felt. It was like + light and order coming into a hopeless dark muddle. What you said was like + what we have all been trying to think—I mean all of us young people. + Suddenly it was all clear.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short. She was breathless with the excitement of her + confession. + </p> + <p> + Her father too remained silent for a little while. He was reminded of his + weakness; he was, he perceived, still a little hysterical. He felt that he + might weep at her youthful enthusiasm if he did not restrain himself. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad,” he said, and patted her shoulder. “I'm glad, Norah.” + </p> + <p> + She looked away from him out across the lank brown sands and water pools + to the sea. “It was what we have all been feeling our way towards, the + absolute simplification of religion, the absolute simplification of + politics and social duty; just God, just God the King.” + </p> + <p> + “But should I have said that—in the cathedral?” + </p> + <p> + She felt no scruples. “You had to,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “But now think what it means,” he said. “I must leave the church.” + </p> + <p> + “As a man strips off his coat for a fight.” + </p> + <p> + “That doesn't dismay you?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head, and smiled confidently to sea and sky. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad if you're with me,” he said. “Sometimes—I think—I'm + not a very self-reliant man.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll have all the world with you,” she was convinced, “in a little + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps rather a longer time than you think, Norah. In the meantime—” + </p> + <p> + She turned to him once more. + </p> + <p> + “In the meantime there are a great many things to consider. Young people, + they say, never think of the transport that is needed to win a battle. I + have it in my mind that I should leave the church. But I can't just walk + out into the marketplace and begin preaching there. I see the family + furniture being carried out of the palace and put into vans. It has to go + somewhere....” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you will go to London.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly. In fact certainly. I have a plan. Or at least an + opportunity.... But that isn't what I have most in mind. These things are + not done without emotion and a considerable strain upon one's personal + relationships. I do not think this—I do not think your mother sees + things as we do.” + </p> + <p> + “She will,” said young enthusiasm, “when she understands.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish she did. But I have been unlucky in the circumstances of my + explanations to her. And of course you understand all this means risks—poverty + perhaps—going without things—travel, opportunity, nice + possessions—for all of us. A loss of position too. All this sort of + thing,” he stuck out a gaitered calf and smiled, “will have to go. People, + some of them, may be disasagreeable to us....” + </p> + <p> + “After all, Daddy,” she said, smiling, “it isn't so bad as the cross and + the lions and burning pitch. And you have the Truth.” + </p> + <p> + “You do believe—?” He left his sentence unfinished. + </p> + <p> + She nodded, her face aglow. “We know you have the Truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course in my own mind now it is very clear. I had a kind of + illumination....” He would have tried to tell her of his vision, and he + was too shy. “It came to me suddenly that the whole world was in confusion + because men followed after a thousand different immediate aims, when + really it was quite easy, if only one could be simple it was quite easy, + to show that nearly all men could only be fully satisfied and made happy + in themselves by one single aim, which was also the aim that would make + the whole world one great order, and that aim was to make God King of + one's heart and the whole world. I saw that all this world, except for a + few base monstrous spirits, was suffering hideous things because of this + war, and before the war it was full of folly, waste, social injustice and + suspicion for the same reason, because it had not realized the kingship of + God. And that is so simple; the essence of God is simplicity. The sin of + this war lies with men like myself, men who set up to tell people about + God, more than it lies with any other class—” + </p> + <p> + “Kings?” she interjected. “Diplomatists? Finance?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Those men could only work mischief in the world because the priests + and teachers let them. All things human lie at last at the door of the + priest and teacher. Who differentiate, who qualify and complicate, who + make mean unnecessary elaborations, and so divide mankind. If it were not + for the weakness and wickedness of the priests, every one would know and + understand God. Every one who was modest enough not to set up for + particular knowledge. Men disputed whether God is Finite or Infinite, + whether he has a triple or a single aspect. How should they know? All we + need to know is the face he turns to us. They impose their horrible creeds + and distinctions. None of those things matter. Call him Christ the God or + call him simply God, Allah, Heaven; it does not matter. He comes to us, we + know, like a Helper and Friend; that is all we want to know. You may + speculate further if you like, but it is not religion. They dispute + whether he can set aside nature. But that is superstition. He is either + master of nature and he knows that it is good, or he is part of nature and + must obey. That is an argument for hair-splitting metaphysicians. Either + answer means the same for us. It does not matter which way we come to + believe that he does not idly set the course of things aside. Obviously he + does not set the course of things aside. What he does do for certain is to + give us courage and save us from our selfishness and the bitter hell it + makes for us. And every one knows too what sort of things we want, and for + what end we want to escape from ourselves. We want to do right. And right, + if you think clearly, is just truth within and service without, the + service of God's kingdom, which is mankind, the service of human needs and + the increase of human power and experience. It is all perfectly plain, it + is all quite easy for any one to understand, who isn't misled and + chattered at and threatened and poisoned by evil priests and teachers.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are going to preach that, Daddy?” + </p> + <p> + “If I can. When I am free—you know I have still to resign and give + up—I shall make that my message.” + </p> + <p> + “And so God comes.” + </p> + <p> + “God comes as men perceive him in his simplicity.... Let men but see God + simply, and forthwith God and his kingdom possess the world.” + </p> + <p> + She looked out to sea in silence for awhile. + </p> + <p> + Then she turned to her father. “And you think that His Kingdom will come—perhaps + in quite a little time—perhaps in our lifetimes? And that all these + ridiculous or wicked little kings and emperors, and these political + parties, and these policies and conspiracies, and this nationalist + nonsense and all the patriotism and rowdyism, all the private + profit-seeking and every baseness in life, all the things that it is so + horrible and disgusting to be young among and powerless among, you think + they will fade before him?” + </p> + <p> + The bishop pulled his faith together. + </p> + <p> + “They will fade before him—but whether it will take a lifetime or a + hundred lifetimes or a thousand lifetimes, my Norah—” + </p> + <p> + He smiled and left his sentence unfinished, and she smiled back at him to + show she understood. + </p> + <p> + And then he confessed further, because he did not want to seem merely + sentimentally hopeful. + </p> + <p> + “When I was in the cathedral, Norah—and just before that service, it + seemed to me—it was very real.... It seemed that perhaps the Kingdom + of God is nearer than we suppose, that it needs but the faith and courage + of a few, and it may be that we may even live to see the dawning of his + kingdom, even—who knows?—the sunrise. I am so full of faith + and hope that I fear to be hopeful with you. But whether it is near or far—” + </p> + <p> + “We work for it,” said Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor thought, eyes downcast for a little while, and then looked up. + </p> + <p> + “It is so wonderful to talk to you like this, Daddy. In the old days, I + didn't dream—Before I went to Newnham. I misjudged you. I thought + Never mind what I thought. It was silly. But now I am so proud of you. And + so happy to be back with you, Daddy, and find that your religion is after + all just the same religion that I have been wanting.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THE NINTH - THE THIRD VISION + </h2> + <h3> + (1) + </h3> + <p> + ONE afternoon in October, four months and more after that previous + conversation, the card of Mr. Edward Scrope was brought up to Dr. + Brighton-Pomfrey. The name awakened no memories. The doctor descended to + discover a man so obviously in unaccustomed plain clothes that he had a + momentary disagreeable idea that he was facing a detective. Then he saw + that this secular disguise draped the familiar form of his old friend, the + former Bishop of Princhester. Scrope was pale and a little untidy; he had + already acquired something of the peculiar, slightly faded quality one + finds in a don who has gone to Hampstead and fallen amongst advanced + thinkers and got mixed up with the Fabian Society. His anxious eyes and + faintly propitiatory manner suggested an impending appeal. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey had the savoir-faire of a successful consultant; he + prided himself on being all things to all men; but just for an instant he + was at a loss what sort of thing he had to be here. Then he adopted the + genial, kindly, but by no means lavishly generous tone advisable in the + case of a man who has suffered considerable social deterioration without + being very seriously to blame. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey was a little round-faced man with defective eyesight + and an unsuitable nose for the glasses he wore, and he flaunted—God + knows why—enormous side-whiskers. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, balancing the glasses skilfully by throwing back his + head, “and how are you? And what can I do for you? There's no external + evidence of trouble. You're looking lean and a little pale, but thoroughly + fit.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the late bishop, “I'm fairly fit—” + </p> + <p> + “Only—?” said the doctor, smiling his teeth, with something of the + manner of an old bathing woman who tells a child to jump. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm run down and—worried.” + </p> + <p> + “We'd better sit down,” said the great doctor professionally, and looked + hard at him. Then he pulled at the arm of a chair. + </p> + <p> + The ex-bishop sat down, and the doctor placed himself between his patient + and the light. + </p> + <p> + “This business of resigning my bishopric and so forth has involved very + considerable strains,” Scrope began. “That I think is the essence of the + trouble. One cuts so many associations.... I did not realize how much + feeling there would be.... Difficulties too of readjusting one's + position.” + </p> + <p> + “Zactly. Zactly. Zactly,” said the doctor, snapping his face and making + his glasses vibrate. “Run down. Want a tonic or a change?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. In fact—I want a particular tonic.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey made his eyes and mouth round and interrogative. + </p> + <p> + “While you were away last spring—” + </p> + <p> + “Had to go,” said the doctor, “unavoidable. Gas gangrene. Certain + enquiries. These young investigators all very well in their way. But we + older reputations—Experience. Maturity of judgment. Can't do without + us. Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I came here last spring and saw, an assistant I suppose he was, or + a supply,—do you call them supplies in your profession?—named, + I think—Let me see—D—?” + </p> + <p> + “Dale!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor as he uttered this word set his face to the unaccustomed + exercise of expressing malignity. His round blue eyes sought to blaze, + small cherubic muscles exerted themselves to pucker his brows. His colour + became a violent pink. “Lunatic!” he said. “Dangerous Lunatic! He didn't + do anything—anything bad in your case, did he?” + </p> + <p> + He was evidently highly charged with grievance in this matter. “That man + was sent to me from Cambridge with the highest testimonials. The very + highest. I had to go at twenty-four hours' notice. Enquiry—gas + gangrene. There was nothing for it but to leave things in his hands.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey disavowed responsibility with an open, + stumpy-fingered hand. + </p> + <p> + “He did me no particular harm,” said Scrope. + </p> + <p> + “You are the first he spared,” said Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey. + </p> + <p> + “Did he—? Was he unskilful?” + </p> + <p> + “Unskilful is hardly the word.” + </p> + <p> + “Were his methods peculiar?” + </p> + <p> + The little doctor sprang to his feet and began to pace about the room. + “Peculiar!” he said. “It was abominable that they should send him to me. + Abominable!” + </p> + <p> + He turned, with all the round knobs that constituted his face, aglow. His + side-whiskers waved apart like wings about to flap. He protruded his face + towards his seated patient. “I am glad that he has been killed,” he said. + “Glad! There!” + </p> + <p> + His glasses fell off—shocked beyond measure. He did not heed them. + They swung about in front of him as if they sought to escape while he + poured out his feelings. + </p> + <p> + “Fool!” he spluttered with demonstrative gestures. “Dangerous fool! His + one idea—to upset everybody. Drugs, Sir! The most terrible drugs! I + come back. Find ladies. High social position. Morphine-maniacs. Others. + Reckless use of the most dangerous expedients.... Cocaine not in it. + Stimulants—violent stimulants. In the highest quarters. Terrible. + Exalted persons. Royalty! Anxious to be given war work and become + anonymous.... Horrible! He's been a terrible influence. One idea—to + disturb soul and body. Minds unhinged. Personal relations deranged. + Shattered the practice of years. The harm he has done! The harm!” + </p> + <p> + He looked as though he was trying to burst—as a final expression of + wrath. He failed. His hands felt trembling to recover his pince-nez. Then + from his tail pocket he produced a large silk handkerchief and wiped the + glasses. Replaced them. Wriggled his head in his collar, running his + fingers round his neck. Patted his tie. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse this outbreak!” he said. “But Dr. Dale has inflicted injuries!” + </p> + <p> + Scrope got up, walked slowly to the window, clasping his hands behind his + back, and turned. His manner still retained much of his episcopal dignity. + “I am sorry. But still you can no doubt tell from your books what it was + he gave me. It was a tonic that had a very great effect on me. And I need + it badly now.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey was quietly malignant. “He kept no diary at all,” he + said. “No diary at all.” + </p> + <p> + “But + </p> + <p> + “If he did,” said Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey, holding up a flat hand and wagging + it from side to side, “I wouldn't follow his treatment.” He intensified + with the hand going faster. “I wouldn't follow his treatment. Not under + any circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” said Scrope, “if the results are what you say. But in my case + it wasn't a treatment. I was sleepless, confused in my mind, wretched and + demoralized; I came here, and he just produced the stuff—It clears + the head, it clears the mind. One seems to get away from the cloud of + things, to get through to essentials and fundamentals. It straightened me + out.... You must know such a stuff. Just now, confronted with all sorts of + problems arising out of my resignation, I want that tonic effect again. I + must have it. I have matters to decide—and I can't decide. I find + myself uncertain, changeable from hour to hour. I don't ask you to take up + anything of this man Dale's. This is a new occasion. But I want that + drug.” + </p> + <p> + At the beginning of this speech Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey's hands had fallen to + his hips. As Scrope went on the doctor's pose had stiffened. His head had + gone a little on one side; he had begun to play with his glasses. At the + end he gave vent to one or two short coughs, and then pointed his words + with his glasses held out. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” he said, “tell me.” (Cough.) “Had this drug that cleared your + head—anything to do with your resignation?” + </p> + <p> + And he put on his glasses disconcertingly, and threw his head back to + watch the reply. + </p> + <p> + “It did help to clear up the situation.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey in a tone that defined his own + position with remorseless clearness. “Exactly.” And he held up a flat, + arresting hand. . + </p> + <p> + “My dear Sir,” he said. “How can you expect me to help you to a drug so + disastrous?—even if I could tell you what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “But it was not disastrous to me,” said Scrope. + </p> + <p> + “Your extraordinary resignation—your still more extraordinary way of + proclaiming it!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think those were disasters.” + </p> + <p> + “But my dear Sir!” + </p> + <p> + “You don't want to discuss theology with me, I know. So let me tell you + simply that from my point of view the illumination that came to me—this + drug of Dr. Dale's helping—has been the great release of my life. It + crystallized my mind. It swept aside the confusing commonplace things + about me. Just for a time I saw truth clearly.... I want to do so again.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “There is a crisis in my affairs—never mind what. But I cannot see + my way clear.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey was meditating now with his eyes on his carpet and + the corners of his mouth tucked in. He was swinging his glasses + pendulum-wise. “Tell me,” he said, looking sideways at Scrope, “what were + the effects of this drug? It may have been anything. How did it give you + this—this vision of the truth—that led to your resignation?” + </p> + <p> + Scrope felt a sudden shyness. But he wanted Dale's drug again so badly + that he obliged himself to describe his previous experiences to the best + of his ability. + </p> + <p> + “It was,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone, “a golden, transparent liquid. + Very golden, like a warm-tinted Chablis. When water was added it became + streaked and opalescent, with a kind of living quiver in it. I held it up + to the light.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes? And when you took it?” + </p> + <p> + “I felt suddenly clearer. My mind—I had a kind of exaltation and + assurance.” + </p> + <p> + “Your mind,” Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey assisted, “began to go twenty-nine to + the dozen.” + </p> + <p> + “It felt stronger and clearer,” said Scrope, sticking to his quest. + </p> + <p> + “And did things look as usual?” asked the doctor, protruding his knobby + little face like a clenched fist. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Scrope and regarded him. How much was it possible to tell a man + of this type? + </p> + <p> + “They differed?” said the doctor, relaxing. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.... Well, to be plain.... I had an immediate sense of God. I saw the + world—as if it were a transparent curtain, and then God became—evident.... + Is it possible for that to determine the drug?” + </p> + <p> + “God became—evident,” the doctor said with some distaste, and shook + his head slowly. Then in a sudden sharp cross-examining tone: “You mean + you had a vision? Actually saw 'um?” + </p> + <p> + “It was in the form of a vision.” Scrope was now mentally very + uncomfortable indeed. + </p> + <p> + The doctor's lips repeated these words noiselessly, with an effect of + contempt. “He must have given you something—It's a little like + morphia. But golden—opalescent? And it was this vision made you + astonish us all with your resignation?” + </p> + <p> + “That was part of a larger process,” said Scrope patiently. “I had been + drifting into a complete repudiation of the Anglican positions long before + that. All that this drug did was to make clear what was already in my + mind. And give it value. Act as a developer.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor suddenly gave way to a botryoidal hilarity. “To think that one + should be consulted about visions of God—in Mount Street!” he said. + “And you know, you know you half want to believe that vision was real. You + know you do.” + </p> + <p> + So far Scrope had been resisting his realization of failure. Now he gave + way to an exasperation that made him reckless of Brighton-Pomfrey's + opinion. “I do think,” he said, “that that drug did in some way make God + real to me. I think I saw God.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey shook his head in a way that made Scrope want to hit + him. + </p> + <p> + “I think I saw God,” he repeated more firmly. “I had a sudden realization + of how great he was and how great life was, and how timid and mean and + sordid were all our genteel, professional lives. I was seized upon, for a + time I was altogether possessed by a passion to serve him fitly and + recklessly, to make an end to compromises with comfort and self-love and + secondary things. And I want to hold to that. I want to get back to that. + I am given to lassitudes. I relax. I am by temperament an easy-going man. + I want to buck myself up, I want to get on with my larger purposes, and I + find myself tired, muddled, entangled.... The drug was a good thing. For + me it was a good thing. I want its help again.” + </p> + <p> + “I know no more than you do what it was.” + </p> + <p> + “Are there no other drugs that you do know, that have a kindred effect? If + for example I tried morphia in some form?” + </p> + <p> + “You'd get visions. They wouldn't be divine visions. If you took small + quantities very discreetly you might get a temporary quickening. But the + swift result of all repeated drug-taking is, I can assure you, moral decay—rapid + moral decay. To touch drugs habitually is to become hopelessly unpunctual, + untruthful, callously selfish and insincere. I am talking mere textbook, + mere everyday common-places, to you when I tell you that.” + </p> + <p> + “I had an idea. I had a hope....” + </p> + <p> + “You've a stiff enough fight before you,” said the doctor, “without such a + handicap as that.” + </p> + <p> + “You won't help me?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor walked up and down his hearthrug, and then delivered himself + with an extended hand and waggling fingers. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't if I could. For your good I wouldn't. And even if I would I + couldn't, for I don't know the drug. One of his infernal brews, no doubt. + Something—accidental. It's lost—for good—for your good, + anyhow....” + </p> + <p> + (2) + </p> + <p> + Scrope halted outside the stucco portals of the doctor's house. He + hesitated whether he should turn to the east or the west. + </p> + <p> + “That door closes,” he said. “There's no getting back that way.”... + </p> + <p> + He stood for a time on the kerb. He turned at last towards Park Lane and + Hyde Park. He walked along thoughtfully, inattentively steering a course + for his new home in Pembury Road, Notting Hill. + </p> + <p> + (3) + </p> + <p> + At the outset of this new phase in Scrope's life that had followed the + crisis of the confirmation service, everything had seemed very clear + before him. He believed firmly that he had been shown God, that he had + himself stood in the presence of God, and that there had been a plain call + to him to proclaim God to the world. He had realized God, and it was the + task of every one who had realized God to help all mankind to the same + realization. The proposal of Lady Sunderbund had fallen in with that idea. + He had been steeling himself to a prospect of struggle and dire poverty, + but her prompt loyalty had come as an immense relief to his anxiety for + his wife and family. When he had talked to Eleanor upon the beach at + Hunstanton it had seemed to him that his course was manifest, perhaps a + little severe but by no means impossible. They had sat together in the + sunshine, exalted by a sense of fine adventure and confident of success, + they had looked out upon the future, upon the great near future in which + the idea of God was to inspire and reconstruct the world. + </p> + <p> + It was only very slowly that this pristine clearness became clouded and + confused. It had not been so easy as Eleanor had supposed to win over the + sympathy of Lady Ella with his resignation. Indeed it had not been won + over. She had become a stern and chilling companion, mute now upon the + issue of his resignation, but manifestly resentful. He was secretly + disappointed and disconcerted by her tone. And the same hesitation of the + mind, instinctive rather than reasoned, that had prevented a frank + explanation of his earlier doubts to her, now restrained him from telling + her naturally and at once of the part that Lady Sunderbund was to play in + his future ministry. In his own mind he felt assured about that part, but + in order to excuse his delay in being frank with his wife, he told himself + that he was not as yet definitely committed to Lady Sunderbund's project. + And in accordance with that idea he set up housekeeping in London upon a + scale that implied a very complete cessation of income. “As yet,” he told + Lady Ella, “we do not know where we stand. For a time we must not so much + house ourselves as camp. We must take some quite small and modest house in + some less expensive district. If possible I would like to take it for a + year, until we know better how things are with us.” + </p> + <p> + He reviewed a choice of London districts. + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella said her bitterest thing. “Does it matter where we hide our + heads?” + </p> + <p> + That wrung him to: “We are not hiding our heads.” + </p> + <p> + She repented at once. “I am sorry, Ted,” she said. “It slipped from + me.”... + </p> + <p> + He called it camping, but the house they had found in Pembury Road, + Notting Hill, was more darkened and less airy than any camp. Neither he + nor his wife had ever had any experience of middle-class house-hunting or + middle-class housekeeping before, and they spent three of the most + desolating days of their lives in looking for this cheap and modest + shelter for their household possessions. Hitherto life had moved them from + one established and comfortable home to another; their worst affliction + had been the modern decorations of the Palace at Princhester, and it was + altogether a revelation to them to visit house after house, ill-lit, + ill-planned, with dingy paint and peeling wallpaper, kitchens for the most + part underground, and either without bathrooms or with built-out bathrooms + that were manifestly grudging afterthoughts, such as harbour the + respectable middle classes of London. The house agents perceived + intimations of helplessness in their manner, adopted a “rushing” method + with them strange to people who had hitherto lived in a glowing halo of + episcopal dignity. “Take it or leave it,” was the note of those gentlemen; + “there are always people ready for houses.” The line that property in land + and houses takes in England, the ex-bishop realized, is always to hold up + and look scornful. The position of the land-owning, house-owning class in + a crowded country like England is ultra-regal. It is under no obligation + to be of use, and people are obliged to get down to the land somewhere. + They cannot conduct business and rear families in the air. England's + necessity is the landlord's opportunity.... + </p> + <p> + Scrope began to generalize about this, and develop a new and sincerer + streak of socialism in his ideas. “The church has been very remiss,” he + said, as he and Lady Ella stared at the basement “breakfast room” of their + twenty-seventh dismal possibility. “It should have insisted far more than + it has done upon the landlord's responsibility. No one should tolerate the + offer of such a house as this—at such a rent—to decent people. + It is unrighteous.” + </p> + <p> + At the house agent's he asked in a cold, intelligent ruling-class voice, + the name of the offending landlord. + </p> + <p> + “It's all the property of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners that side of + the railway,” said the agent, picking his teeth with a pin. “Lazy lot. + Dreadfully hard to get 'em to do anything. Own some of the worst + properties in London.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella saw things differently again. “If you had stayed in the church,” + she said afterwards, “you might have helped to alter such things as that.” + </p> + <p> + At the time he had no answer. + </p> + <p> + “But,” he said presently as they went back in the tube to their modest + Bloomsbury hotel, “if I had stayed in the church I should never have + realized things like that.” + </p> + <p> + (4) + </p> + <p> + But it does no justice to Lady Ella to record these two unavoidable + expressions of regret without telling also of the rallying courage with + which she presently took over the task of resettling herself and her + stricken family. Her husband's change of opinion had fallen upon her out + of a clear sky, without any premonition, in one tremendous day. In one day + there had come clamouring upon her, with an effect of revelation after + revelation, the ideas of drugs, of heresy and blasphemy, of an alien + feminine influence, of the entire moral and material breakdown of the man + who had been the centre of her life. Never was the whole world of a woman + so swiftly and comprehensively smashed. All the previous troubles of her + life seemed infinitesimal in comparison with any single item in this + dismaying debacle. She tried to consolidate it in the idea that he was + ill, “disordered.” She assured herself that he would return from + Hunstanton restored to health and orthodoxy, with all his threatenings of + a resignation recalled; the man she had loved and trusted to succeed in + the world and to do right always according to her ideas. It was only with + extreme reluctance that she faced the fact that with the fumes of the drug + dispelled and all signs of nervous exhaustion gone, he still pressed + quietly but resolutely toward a severance from the church. She tried to + argue with him and she found she could not argue. The church was a crystal + sphere in which her life was wholly contained, her mind could not go + outside it even to consider a dissentient proposition. + </p> + <p> + While he was at Hunstanton, every day she had prayed for an hour, some + days she had prayed for several hours, in the cathedral, kneeling upon a + harsh hassock that hurt her knees. Even in her prayers she could not argue + nor vary. She prayed over and over again many hundreds of times: “Bring + him back, dear Lord. Bring him back again.” + </p> + <p> + In the past he had always been a very kind and friendly mate to her, but + sometimes he had been irritable about small things, especially during his + seasons of insomnia; now he came back changed, a much graver man, rather + older in his manner, carefully attentive to her, kinder and more watchful, + at times astonishingly apologetic, but rigidly set upon his purpose of + leaving the church. “I know you do not think with me in this,” he said. “I + have to pray you to be patient with me. I have struggled with my + conscience.... For a time it means hardship, I know. Poverty. But if you + will trust me I think I shall be able to pull through. There are ways of + doing my work. Perhaps we shall not have to undergo this cramping in this + house for very long....” + </p> + <p> + “It is not the poverty I fear,” said Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + And she did face the worldly situation, if a little sadly, at any rate + with the courage of practical energy. It was she who stood in one ungainly + house after another and schemed how to make discomforts tolerable, while + Scrope raged unhelpfully at landlordism and the responsibility of the + church for economic disorder. It was she who at last took decisions into + her hands when he was too jaded to do anything but generalize weakly, and + settled upon the house in Pembury Road which became their London home. She + got him to visit Hunstanton again for half a week while she and Miriam, + who was the practical genius of the family, moved in and made the new home + presentable. At the best it was barely presentable. There were many plain + hardships. The girls had to share one of the chief bedrooms in common + instead of their jolly little individual dens at Princhester.... One + little room was all that could be squeezed out as a study for “father”; it + was not really a separate room, it was merely cut off by closed folding + doors from the dining-room, folding doors that slowly transmitted the + dinner flavours to a sensitive worker, and its window looked out upon a + blackened and uneventful yard and the skylights of a populous, + conversational, and high-spirited millinery establishment that had been + built over the corresponding garden of the house in Restharrow Street. + Lady Ella had this room lined with open shelves, and Clementina (in the + absence of Eleanor at Newuham) arranged the pick of her father's books. It + is to be noted as a fact of psychological interest that this cramped, + ill-lit little room distressed Lady Ella more than any other of the + discomforts of their new quarters. The bishop's writing-desk filled a + whole side of it. Parsimony ruled her mind, but she could not resist the + impulse to get him at least a seemly reading-lamp. + </p> + <p> + He came back from Hunstanton full of ideas for work in London. He was, he + thought, going to “write something” about his views. He was very grateful + and much surprised at what she had done to that forbidding house, and full + of hints and intimations that it would not be long before they moved to + something roomier. She was disposed to seek some sort of salaried + employment for Clementina and Miriam at least, but he would not hear of + that. “They must go on and get educated,” he said, “if I have to give up + smoking to do it. Perhaps I may manage even without that.” Eleanor, it + seemed, had a good prospect of a scholarship at the London School of + Economics that would practically keep her. There would be no Cambridge for + Clementina, but London University might still be possible with a little + pinching, and the move to London had really improved the prospects of a + good musical training for Miriam. Phoebe and Daphne, Lady Ella believed, + might get in on special terms at the Notting Hill High School. + </p> + <p> + Scrope found it difficult to guess at what was going on in the heads of + his younger daughters. None displayed such sympathy as Eleanor had + confessed. He had a feeling that his wife had schooled them to say nothing + about the change in their fortunes to him. But they quarrelled a good + deal, he could hear, about the use of the one bathroom—there was + never enough hot water after the second bath. And Miriam did not seem to + enjoy playing the new upright piano in the drawing-room as much as she had + done the Princhester grand it replaced. Though she was always willing to + play that thing he liked; he knew now that it was the Adagio of Of. 111; + whenever he asked for it. + </p> + <p> + London servants, Lady Ella found, were now much more difficult to get than + they had been in the Holy Innocents' days in St. John's Wood. And more + difficult to manage when they were got. The households of the more + prosperous clergy are much sought after by domestics of a serious and + excellent type; an unfrocked clergyman's household is by no means so + attractive. The first comers were young women of unfortunate dispositions; + the first cook was reluctant and insolent, she went before her month was + up; the second careless; she made burnt potatoes and cindered chops, + underboiled and overboiled eggs; a “dropped” look about everything, harsh + coffee and bitter tea seemed to be a natural aspect of the state of being + no longer a bishop. He would often after a struggle with his nerves in the + bedroom come humming cheerfully to breakfast, to find that Phoebe, who was + a delicate eater, had pushed her plate away scarcely touched, while Lady + Ella sat at the end of the table in a state of dangerous calm, framing + comments for delivering downstairs that would be sure to sting and yet + leave no opening for repartee, and trying at the same time to believe that + a third cook, if the chances were risked again, would certainly be “all + right.” + </p> + <p> + The drawing-room was papered with a morose wallpaper that the landlord, in + view of the fact that Scrope in his optimism would only take the house on + a yearly agreement, had refused to replace; it was a design of very dark + green leaves and grey gothic arches; and the apartment was lit by a + chandelier, which spilt a pool of light in the centre of the room and + splashed useless weak patches elsewhere. Lady Ella had to interfere to + prevent the monopolization of this centre by Phoebe and Daphne for their + home work. This light trouble was difficult to arrange; the plain truth + was that there was not enough illumination to go round. In the Princhester + drawing-room there had been a number of obliging little electric pushes. + The size of the dining-room, now that the study was cut off from it, + forbade hospitality. As it was, with only the family at home, the + housemaid made it a grievance that she could scarcely squeeze by on the + sideboard side to wait. + </p> + <p> + The house vibrated to the trains in the adjacent underground railway. + There was a lady next door but one who was very pluckily training a + contralto voice that most people would have gladly thrown away. At the end + of Restharrow Street was a garage, and a yard where chauffeurs were + accustomed to “tune up” their engines. All these facts were persistently + audible to any one sitting down in the little back study to think out this + project of “writing something,” about a change in the government of the + whole world. Petty inconveniences no doubt all these inconveniences were, + but they distressed a rather oversensitive mind which was also acutely + aware that even upon this scale living would cost certainly two hundred + and fifty pounds if not more in excess of the little private income + available. + </p> + <p> + (5) + </p> + <p> + These domestic details, irrelevant as they may seem in a spiritual + history, need to be given because they added an intimate keenness to + Scrope's readiness for this private chapel enterprise that he was + discussing with Lady Sunderbund. Along that line and along that line + alone, he saw the way of escape from the great sea of London dinginess + that threatened to submerge his family. And it was also, he felt, the line + of his duty; it was his “call.” + </p> + <p> + At least that was how he felt at first. And then matters began to grow + complicated again. + </p> + <p> + Things had gone far between himself and Lady Sunderbund since that letter + he had read upon the beach at Old Hunstanton. The blinds of the house with + the very very blue door in Princhester had been drawn from the day when + the first vanload of the renegade bishop's private possessions had + departed from the palace. The lady had returned to the brightly decorated + flat overlooking Hyde Park. He had seen her repeatedly since then, and + always with a fairly clear understanding that she was to provide the + chapel and pulpit in which he was to proclaim to London the gospel of the + Simplicity and Universality of God. He was to be the prophet of a + reconsidered faith, calling the whole world from creeds and sects, from + egotisms and vain loyalties, from prejudices of race and custom, to the + worship and service of the Divine King of all mankind. That in fact had + been the ruling resolve in his mind, the resolve determining his relations + not only with Lady Sunderbund but with Lady Ella and his family, his + friends, enemies and associates. He had set out upon this course unchecked + by any doubt, and overriding the manifest disapproval of his wife and his + younger daughters. Lady Sunderbund's enthusiasm had been enormous and + sustaining.... + </p> + <p> + Almost imperceptibly that resolve had weakened. Imperceptibly at first. + Then the decline had been perceived as one sometimes perceives a thing in + the background out of the corner of one's eye. + </p> + <p> + In all his early anticipations of the chapel enterprise, he had imagined + himself in the likeness of a small but eloquent figure standing in a large + exposed place and calling this lost misled world back to God. Lady + Sunderbund, he assumed, was to provide the large exposed place (which was + dimly paved with pews) and guarantee that little matter which was to + relieve him of sordid anxieties for his family, the stipend. He had agreed + in an inattentive way that this was to be eight hundred a year, with a + certain proportion of the subscriptions. “At first, I shall be the chief + subscriber,” she said. “Before the rush comes.” He had been so content to + take all this for granted and think no more about it—more + particularly to think no more about it—that for a time he entirely + disregarded the intense decorative activities into which Lady Sunderbund + incontinently plunged. Had he been inclined to remark them he certainly + might have done so, even though a considerable proportion was being + thoughtfully veiled for a time from his eyes. + </p> + <p> + For example, there was the young architect with the wonderful tie whom he + met once or twice at lunch in the Hyde Park flat. This young man pulled + the conversation again and again, Lady Sunderbund aiding and abetting, in + the direction of the “ideal church.” It was his ambition, he said, + someday, to build an ideal church, “divorced from tradition.” + </p> + <p> + Scrope had been drawn at last into a dissertation. He said that hitherto + all temples and places of worship had been conditioned by orientation due + to the seasonal aspects of religion, they pointed to the west or—as + in the case of the Egyptian temples—to some particular star, and by + sacramentalism, which centred everything on a highly lit sacrificial + altar. It was almost impossible to think of a church built upon other + lines than that. The architect would be so free that— + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely free,” interrupted the young architect. “He might, for + example, build a temple like a star.” + </p> + <p> + “Or like some wondyful casket,” said Lady Sunderbund.... + </p> + <p> + And also there was a musician with fuzzy hair and an impulsive way of + taking the salted almonds, who wanted to know about religious music. + </p> + <p> + Scrope hazarded the idea that a chanting people was a religious people. He + said, moreover, that there was a fine religiosity about Moussorgski, but + that the most beautiful single piece of music in the world was Beethoven's + sonata, Opus 111,—he was thinking, he said, more particularly of the + Adagio at the end, molto semplice e cantabile. It had a real quality of + divinity. + </p> + <p> + The musician betrayed impatience at the name of Beethoven, and thought, + with his mouth appreciatively full of salted almonds, that nowadays we had + got a little beyond that anyhow. + </p> + <p> + “We shall be superhuman before we get beyond either Purcell or Beethoven,” + said Scrope. + </p> + <p> + Nor did he attach sufficient importance to Lady Sunderbund's disposition + to invite Positivists, members of the Brotherhood Church, leaders among + the Christian Scientists, old followers of the Rev. Charles Voysey, + Swedenborgians, Moslem converts, Indian Theosophists, psychic phenomena + and so forth, to meet him. Nevertheless it began to drift into his mind + that he was by no means so completely in control of the new departure as + he had supposed at first. Both he and Lady Sunderbund professed + universalism; but while his was the universalism of one who would simplify + to the bare fundamentals of a common faith, hers was the universalism of + the collector. Religion to him was something that illuminated the soul, to + her it was something that illuminated prayer-books. For a considerable + time they followed their divergent inclinations without any realization of + their divergence. None the less a vague doubt and dissatisfaction with the + prospect before him arose to cloud his confidence. + </p> + <p> + At first there was little or no doubt of his own faith. He was still + altogether convinced that he had to confess and proclaim God in his life. + He was as sure that God was the necessary king and saviour of mankind and + of a man's life, as he was of the truth of the Binomial Theorem. But what + began first to fade was the idea that he had been specially called to + proclaim the True God to all the world. He would have the most amiable + conference with Lady Sunderbund, and then as he walked back to Notting + Hill he would suddenly find stuck into his mind like a challenge, Heaven + knows how: “Another prophet?” Even if he succeeded in this mission + enterprise, he found himself asking, what would he be but just a little + West-end Mahomet? He would have founded another sect, and we have to make + an end to all sects. How is there to be an end to sects, if there are + still to be chapels—richly decorated chapels—and + congregations, and salaried specialists in God? + </p> + <p> + That was a very disconcerting idea. It was particularly active at night. + He did his best to consider it with a cool detachment, regardless of the + facts that his private income was just under three hundred pounds a year, + and that his experiments in cultured journalism made it extremely + improbable that the most sedulous literary work would do more than double + this scanty sum. Yet for all that these nasty, ugly, sordid facts were + entirely disregarded, they did somehow persist in coming in and squatting + down, shapeless in a black corner of his mind—from which their eyes + shone out, so to speak—whenever his doubt whether he ought to set up + as a prophet at all was under consideration. + </p> + <p> + (6) + </p> + <p> + Then very suddenly on this October afternoon the situation had come to a + crisis. + </p> + <p> + He had gone to Lady Sunderbund's flat to see the plans and drawings for + the new church in which he was to give his message to the world. They had + brought home to him the complete realization of Lady Sunderbund's + impossibility. He had attempted upon the spur of the moment an explanation + of just how much they differed, and he had precipitated a storm of + extravagantly perplexing emotions.... + </p> + <p> + She kept him waiting for perhaps ten minutes before she brought the plans + to him. He waited in the little room with the Wyndham Lewis picture that + opened upon the balcony painted with crazy squares of livid pink. On a + golden table by the window a number of recently bought books were lying, + and he went and stood over these, taking them up one after another. The + first was “The Countess of Huntingdon and Her Circle,” that bearder of + lightminded archbishops, that formidable harbourer of Wesleyan chaplains. + For some minutes he studied the grim portrait of this inspired lady + standing with one foot ostentatiously on her coronet and then turned to + the next volume. This was a life of Saint Teresa, that energetic organizer + of Spanish nunneries. The third dealt with Madame Guyon. It was difficult + not to feel that Lady Sunderbund was reading for a part. + </p> + <p> + She entered. + </p> + <p> + She was wearing a long simple dress of spangled white with a very high + waist; she had a bracelet of green jade, a waistband of green silk, and + her hair was held by a wreath of artificial laurel, very stiff and green. + Her arms were full of big rolls of cartridge paper and tracing paper. “I'm + so pleased,” she said. “It's 'eady at last and I can show you.” + </p> + <p> + She banged the whole armful down upon a vivid little table of inlaid black + and white wood. He rescued one or two rolls and a sheet of tracing paper + from the floor. + </p> + <p> + “It's the Temple,” she panted in a significant whisper. “It's the Temple + of the One T'ue God!” + </p> + <p> + She scrabbled among the papers, and held up the elevation of a strange + square building to his startled eyes. “Iszi't it just pe'fect?” she + demanded. + </p> + <p> + He took the drawing from her. It represented a building, manifestly an + enormous building, consisting largely of two great, deeply fluted towers + flanking a vast archway approached by a long flight of steps. Between the + towers appeared a dome. It was as if the Mosque of Saint Sophia had + produced this offspring in a mesalliance with the cathedral of Wells. Its + enormity was made manifest by the minuteness of the large automobiles that + were driving away in the foreground after “setting down.” “Here is the + plan,” she said, thrusting another sheet upon him before he could fully + take in the quality of the design. “The g'eat Hall is to be pe'fectly + 'ound, no aisle, no altar, and in lettas of sapphiah, 'God is ev'ywhe'.'” + </p> + <p> + She added with a note of solemnity, “It will hold th'ee thousand people + sitting down.” + </p> + <p> + “But—!” said Scrope. + </p> + <p> + “The'e's a sort of g'andeur,” she said. “It's young Venable's wo'k. It's + his fl'st g'ate oppo'tunity.” + </p> + <p> + “But—is this to go on that little site in Aldwych?” + </p> + <p> + “He says the' isn't 'oom the'!” she explained. “He wants to put it out at + Golda's G'een.” + </p> + <p> + “But—if it is to be this little simple chapel we proposed, then + wasn't our idea to be central?” + </p> + <p> + “But if the' isn't 'oem!” she said—conclusively. “And isn't this—isn't + it rather a costly undertaking, rather more costly—” + </p> + <p> + “That doesn't matta. I'm making heaps and heaps of money. Half my p'ope'ty + is in shipping and a lot of the 'eat in munitions. I'm 'icher than eva. + Isn't the' a sort of g'andeur?” she pressed. + </p> + <p> + He put the elevation down. He took the plan from her hands and seemed to + study it. But he was really staring blankly at the whole situation. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Sunderbund,” he said at last, with an effort, “I am afraid all this + won't do.” + </p> + <p> + “Won't do!” + </p> + <p> + “No. It isn't in the spirit of my intention. It isn't in a great building + of this sort—so—so ornate and imposing, that the simple gospel + of God's Universal Kingdom can be preached.” + </p> + <p> + “But oughtn't so gate a message to have as g'ate a pulpit?” + </p> + <p> + And then as if she would seize him before he could go on to further + repudiations, she sought hastily among the drawings again. + </p> + <p> + “But look,” she said. “It has ev'ything! It's not only a p'eaching place; + it's a headquarters for ev'ything.” + </p> + <p> + With the rapid movements of an excited child she began to thrust the + remarkable features and merits of the great project upon him. The + preaching dome was only the heart of it. There were to be a library, + “'efecto'ies,” consultation rooms, classrooms, a publication department, a + big underground printing establishment. “Nowadays,” she said, “ev'y gate + movement must p'int.” There was to be music, she said, “a gate invisible + o'gan,” hidden amidst the architectural details, and pouring out its + sounds into the dome, and then she glanced in passing at possible + “p'ocessions” round the preaching dome. This preaching dome was not a mere + shut-in drum for spiritual reverberations, around it ran great open + corridors, and in these corridors there were to be “chapels.” + </p> + <p> + “But what for?” he asked, stemming the torrent. “What need is there for + chapels? There are to be no altars, no masses, no sacraments?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, “but they are to be chapels for special int'ests; a chapel + for science, a chapel for healing, a chapel for gov'ment. Places for + peoples to sit and think about those things—with paintings and + symbols.” + </p> + <p> + “I see your intention,” he admitted. “I see your intention.” + </p> + <p> + “The' is to be a gate da'k blue 'ound chapel for sta's and atoms and the + myst'ry of matta.” Her voice grew solemn. “All still and deep and high. + Like a k'ystal in a da'k place. You will go down steps to it. Th'ough a + da'k 'ounded a'ch ma'ked with mathematical symbols and balances and + scientific app'atus.... And the ve'y next to it, the ve'y next, is to be a + little b'ight chapel for bi'ds and flowas!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “it is all very fine and expressive. It is, I see, a + symbolical building, a great artistic possibility. But is it the place for + me? What I have to say is something very simple, that God is the king of + the whole world, king of the ha'penny newspaper and the omnibus and the + vulgar everyday things, and that they have to worship him and serve him as + their leader in every moment of their lives. This isn't that. This is the + old religions over again. This is taking God apart. This is putting him + into a fresh casket instead of the old one. And.... I don't like it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't like it,” she cried, and stood apart from him with her chin in the + air, a tall astonishment and dismay. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do the work I want to do with this.” + </p> + <p> + “But—Isn't it you' idea?” + </p> + <p> + “No. It is not in the least my idea. I want to tell the whole world of the + one God that can alone unite it and save it—and you make this + extravagant toy.” + </p> + <p> + He felt as if he had struck her directly he uttered that last word. + </p> + <p> + “Toy!” she echoed, taking it in, “you call it a Toy!” + </p> + <p> + A note in her voice reminded him that there were two people who might feel + strongly in this affair. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Lady Sunderbund,” he said with a sudden change of manner, “I must + needs follow the light of my own mind. I have had a vision of God, I have + seen him as a great leader towering over the little lives of men, + demanding the little lives of men, prepared to take them and guide them to + the salvation of mankind and the conquest of pain and death. I have seen + him as the God of the human affair, a God of politics, a God of such muddy + and bloody wars as this war, a God of economics, a God of railway + junctions and clinics and factories and evening schools, a God in fact of + men. This God—this God here, that you want to worship, is a God of + artists and poets—of elegant poets, a God of bric-a-brac, a God of + choice allusions. Oh, it has its grandeur! I don't want you to think that + what you are doing may not be altogether fine and right for you to do. But + it is not what I have to do.... I cannot—indeed I cannot—go on + with this project—upon these lines.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, flushed and breathless. Lady Sunderbund had heard him to the + end. Her bright face was brightly flushed, and there were tears in her + eyes. It was like her that they should seem tears of the largest, most + expensive sort, tears of the first water. + </p> + <p> + “But,” she cried, and her red delicate mouth went awry with dismay and + disappointment, and her expression was the half incredulous expression of + a child suddenly and cruelly disappointed: “You won't go on with all + this?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said. “My dear Lady Sunderbund—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! don't Lady Sunderbund me!” she cried with a novel rudeness. “Don't + you see I've done it all for you?” + </p> + <p> + He winced and felt boorish. He had never liked and disapproved of Lady + Sunderbund so much as he did at that moment. And he had no words for her. + </p> + <p> + “How can I stop it all at once like this?” + </p> + <p> + And still he had no answer. + </p> + <p> + She pursued her advantage. “What am I to do?” she cried. + </p> + <p> + She turned upon him passionately. “Look what you've done!” She marked her + points with finger upheld, and gave odd suggestions in her face of an + angry coster girl. “Eva' since I met you, I've wo'shipped you. I've been + 'eady to follow you anywhe'—to do anything. Eva' since that night + when you sat so calm and dignified, and they baited you and wo'id you. + When they we' all vain and cleva, and you—you thought only of God + and 'iligion and didn't mind fo' you'self.... Up to then—I'd been + living—oh! the emptiest life...” + </p> + <p> + The tears ran. “Pe'haps I shall live it again....” She dashed her grief + away with a hand beringed with stones as big as beetles. + </p> + <p> + “I said to myself, this man knows something I don't know. He's got the + seeds of ete'nal life su'ely. I made up my mind then and the' I'd follow + you and back you and do all I could fo' you. I've lived fo' you. Eve' + since. Lived fo' you. And now when all my little plans are 'ipe, you—! + Oh!” + </p> + <p> + She made a quaint little gesture with pink fists upraised, and then stood + with her hand held up, staring at the plans and drawings that were + littered over the inlaid table. “I've planned and planned. I said, I will + build him a temple. I will be his temple se'vant.... Just a me' + se'vant....” + </p> + <p> + She could not go on. + </p> + <p> + “But it is just these temples that have confused mankind,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Not my temple,” she said presently, now openly weeping over the gay + rejected drawings. “You could have explained....” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she said petulantly, and thrust them away from her so that they went + sliding one after the other on to the floor. For some long-drawn moments + there was no sound in the room but the slowly accelerated slide and flop + of one sheet of cartridge paper after another. + </p> + <p> + “We could have been so happy,” she wailed, “se'ving oua God.” + </p> + <p> + And then this disconcerting lady did a still more disconcerting thing. She + staggered a step towards Scrape, seized the lapels of his coat, bowed her + head upon his shoulder, put her black hair against his cheek, and began + sobbing and weeping. + </p> + <p> + “My dear lady!” he expostulated, trying weakly to disengage her. + </p> + <p> + “Let me k'y,” she insisted, gripping more resolutely, and following his + backward pace. “You must let me k'y. You must let me k'y.” + </p> + <p> + His resistance ceased. One hand supported her, the other patted her + shining hair. “My dear child!” he said. “My dear child! I had no idea. + That you would take it like this....” + </p> + <p> + (7) + </p> + <p> + That was but the opening of an enormous interview. Presently he had + contrived in a helpful and sympathetic manner to seat the unhappy lady on + a sofa, and when after some cramped discourse she stood up before him, + wiping her eyes with a wet wonder of lace, to deliver herself the better, + a newborn appreciation of the tactics of the situation made him walk to + the other side of the table under colour of picking up a drawing. + </p> + <p> + In the retrospect he tried to disentangle the threads of a discussion that + went to and fro and contradicted itself and began again far back among + things that had seemed forgotten and disposed of. Lady Sunderbund's mind + was extravagantly untrained, a wild-grown mental thicket. At times she + reproached him as if he were a heartless God; at times she talked as if he + were a recalcitrant servant. Her mingling of utter devotion and the + completest disregard for his thoughts and wishes dazzled and distressed + his mind. It was clear that for half a year her clear, bold, absurd will + had been crystallized upon the idea of giving him exactly what she wanted + him to want. The crystal sphere of those ambitions lay now shattered + between them. + </p> + <p> + She was trying to reconstruct it before his eyes. + </p> + <p> + She was, she declared, prepared to alter her plans in any way that would + meet his wishes. She had not understood. “If it is a Toy,” she cried, + “show me how to make it not a Toy! Make it 'eal!” + </p> + <p> + He said it was the bare idea of a temple that made it impossible. And + there was this drawing here; what did it mean? He held it out to her. It + represented a figure, distressingly like himself, robed as a priest in + vestments. + </p> + <p> + She snatched the offending drawing from him and tore it to shreds. + </p> + <p> + “If you don't want a Temple, have a meeting-house. You wanted a + meeting-house anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Just any old meeting-house,” he said. “Not that special one. A place + without choirs and clergy.” + </p> + <p> + “If you won't have music,” she responded, “don't have music. If God + doesn't want music it can go. I can't think God does not app'ove of music, + but—that is for you to settle. If you don't like the' being + o'naments, we'll make it all plain. Some g'ate g'ey Dome—all g'ey + and black. If it isn't to be beautiful, it can be ugly. Yes, ugly. It can + be as ugly”—she sobbed—“as the City Temple. We will get some + otha a'chitect—some City a'chitect. Some man who has built B'anch + Banks or 'ailway stations. That's if you think it pleases God.... B'eak + young Venable's hea't.... Only why should you not let me make a place fo' + you' message? Why shouldn't it be me? You must have a place. You've got + 'to p'each somewhe'.” + </p> + <p> + “As a man, not as a priest.” + </p> + <p> + “Then p'each as a man. You must still wea' something.” + </p> + <p> + “Just ordinary clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “O'dina'y clothes a' clothes in the fashion,” she said. “You would have to + go to you' taila for a new p'eaching coat with b'aid put on dif'ently, or + two buttons instead of th'ee....” + </p> + <p> + “One needn't be fashionable.” + </p> + <p> + “Ev'ybody is fash'nable. How can you help it? Some people wea' old + fashions; that's all.... A cassock's an old fashion. There's nothing so + plain as a cassock.” + </p> + <p> + “Except that it's a clerical fashion. I want to be just as I am now.” + </p> + <p> + “If you think that—that owoble suit is o'dina'y clothes!” she said, + and stared at him and gave way to tears of real tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “A cassock,” she cried with passion. “Just a pe'fectly plain cassock. Fo' + deecency!... Oh, if you won't—not even that!” + </p> + <p> + (8) + </p> + <p> + As he walked now after his unsuccessful quest of Dr. Brighton-Pomfrey + towards the Serpentine he acted that stormy interview with Lady Sunderbund + over again. At the end, as a condition indeed of his departure, he had + left things open. He had assented to certain promises. He was to make her + understand better what it was he needed. He was not to let anything that + had happened affect that “spi'tual f'enship.” She was to abandon all her + plans, she was to begin again “at the ve'y beginning.” But he knew that + indeed there should be no more beginning again with her. He knew that + quite beyond these questions of the organization of a purified religion, + it was time their association ended. She had wept upon him; she had + clasped both his hands at parting and prayed to be forgiven. She was + drawing him closer to her by their very dissension. She had infected him + with the softness of remorse; from being a bright and spirited person, she + had converted herself into a warm and touching person. Her fine, bright + black hair against his cheek and the clasp of her hand on his shoulder was + now inextricably in the business. The perplexing, the astonishing thing in + his situation was that there was still a reluctance to make a conclusive + breach. + </p> + <p> + He was not the first of men who have tried to find in vain how and when a + relationship becomes an entanglement. He ought to break off now, and the + riddle was just why he should feel this compunction in breaking off now. + He had disappointed her, and he ought not to have disappointed her; that + was the essential feeling. He had never realized before as he realized now + this peculiar quality of his own mind and the gulf into which it was + leading him. It came as an illuminating discovery. + </p> + <p> + He was a social animal. He had an instinctive disposition to act according + to the expectations of the people about him, whether they were reasonable + or congenial expectations or whether they were not. That, he saw for the + first time, had been the ruling motive of his life; it was the clue to + him. Man is not a reasonable creature; he is a socially responsive + creature trying to be reasonable in spite of that fact. From the days in + the rectory nursery when Scrope had tried to be a good boy on the whole + and just a little naughty sometimes until they stopped smiling, through + all his life of school, university, curacy, vicarage and episcopacy up to + this present moment, he perceived now that he had acted upon no authentic + and independent impulse. His impulse had always been to fall in with + people and satisfy them. And all the painful conflicts of those last few + years had been due to a growing realization of jarring criticisms, of + antagonized forces that required from him incompatible things. From which + he had now taken refuge—or at any rate sought refuge—in God. + It was paradoxical, but manifestly in God he not only sank his + individuality but discovered it. + </p> + <p> + It was wonderful how much he had thought and still thought of the feelings + and desires of Lady Sunderbund, and how little he thought of God. Her he + had been assiduously propitiating, managing, accepting, for three months + now. Why? Partly because she demanded it, and there was a quality in her + demand that had touched some hidden spring—of vanity perhaps it was—in + him, that made him respond. But partly also it was because after the + evacuation of the palace at Princhester he had felt more and more, felt + but never dared to look squarely in the face, the catastrophic change in + the worldly circumstances of his family. Only this chapel adventure seemed + likely to restore those fallen and bedraggled fortunes. He had not + anticipated a tithe of the dire quality of that change. They were not + simply uncomfortable in the Notting Hill home. They were miserable. He + fancied they looked to him with something between reproach and urgency. + Why had he brought them here? What next did he propose to do? He wished at + times they would say it out instead of merely looking it. Phoebe's failing + appetite chilled his heart. + </p> + <p> + That concern for his family, he believed, had been his chief motive in + clinging to Lady Sunderbund's projects long after he had realized how + little they would forward the true service of God. No doubt there had been + moments of flattery, moments of something, something rather in the nature + of an excited affection; some touch of the magnificent in her, some touch + of the infantile,—both appealed magnetically to his imagination; but + the real effective cause was his habitual solicitude for his wife and + children and his consequent desire to prosper materially. As his first + dream of being something between Mohammed and Peter the Hermit in a new + proclamation of God to the world lost colour and life in his mind, he + realized more and more clearly that there was no way of living in a state + of material prosperity and at the same time in a state of active service + to God. The Church of the One True God (by favour of Lady Sunderbund) was + a gaily-coloured lure. + </p> + <p> + And yet he wanted to go on with it. All his imagination and intelligence + was busy now with the possibility of in some way subjugating Lady + Sunderbund, and modifying her and qualifying her to an endurable + proposition. Why? + </p> + <p> + Why? + </p> + <p> + There could be but one answer, he thought. Brought to the test of action, + he did not really believe in God! He did not believe in God as he believed + in his family. He did not believe in the reality of either his first or + his second vision; they had been dreams, autogenous revelations, + exaltations of his own imaginations. These beliefs were upon different + grades of reality. Put to the test, his faith in God gave way; a sword of + plaster against a reality of steel. + </p> + <p> + And yet he did believe in God. He was as persuaded that there was a God as + he was that there was another side to the moon. His intellectual + conviction was complete. Only, beside the living, breathing—occasionally + coughing—reality of Phoebe, God was something as unsubstantial as + the Binomial Theorem.... + </p> + <p> + Very like the Binomial Theorem as one thought over that comparison. + </p> + <p> + By this time he had reached the banks of the Serpentine and was + approaching the grey stone bridge that crosses just where Hyde Park ends + and Kensington Gardens begins. Following upon his doubts of his religious + faith had come another still more extraordinary question: “Although there + is a God, does he indeed matter more in our ordinary lives than that same + demonstrable Binomial Theorem? Isn't one's duty to Phoebe plain and + clear?” Old Likeman's argument came back to him with novel and enhanced + powers. Wasn't he after all selfishly putting his own salvation in front + of his plain duty to those about him? What did it matter if he told lies, + taught a false faith, perjured and damned himself, if after all those + others were thereby saved and comforted? + </p> + <p> + “But that is just where the whole of this state of mind is false and + wrong,” he told himself. “God is something more than a priggish devotion, + an intellectual formula. He has a hold and a claim—he should have a + hold and a claim—exceeding all the claims of Phoebe, Miriam, Daphne, + Clementina—all of them.... But he hasn't'!...” + </p> + <p> + It was to that he had got after he had left Lady Sunderbund, and to that + he now returned. It was the thinness and unreality of his thought of God + that had driven him post-haste to Brighton-Pomfrey in search for that drug + that had touched his soul to belief. + </p> + <p> + Was God so insignificant in comparison with his family that after all with + a good conscience he might preach him every Sunday in Lady Sunderbund's + church, wearing Lady Sunderbund's vestments? + </p> + <p> + Before him he saw an empty seat. The question was so immense and + conclusive, it was so clearly a choice for all the rest of his life + between God and the dear things of this world, that he felt he could not + decide it upon his legs. He sat down, threw an arm along the back of the + seat and drummed with his fingers. + </p> + <p> + If the answer was “yes” then it was decidedly a pity that he had not + stayed in the church. It was ridiculous to strain at the cathedral gnat + and then swallow Lady Sunderbund's decorative Pantechnicon. + </p> + <p> + For the first time, Scrope definitely regretted his apostasy. + </p> + <p> + A trivial matter, as it may seem to the reader, intensified that regret. + Three weeks ago Borrowdale, the bishop of Howeaster, had died, and Scrope + would have been the next in rotation to succeed him on the bench of + bishops. He had always looked forward to the House of Lords, intending to + take rather a new line, to speak more, and to speak more plainly and fully + upon social questions than had hitherto been the practice of his brethren. + Well, that had gone.... + </p> + <p> + (9) + </p> + <p> + Regrets were plain now. The question before his mind was growing clear; + whether he was to persist in this self-imposed martyrdom of himself and + his family or whether he was to go back upon his outbreak of visionary + fanaticism and close with this last opportunity that Lady Sunderbund + offered of saving at least the substance of the comfort and social status + of his wife and daughters. In which case it was clear to him he would have + to go to great lengths and exercise very considerable subtlety—and + magnetism—in the management of Lady Sunderbund.... + </p> + <p> + He found himself composing a peculiar speech to her, very frank and + revealing, and one that he felt would dominate her thoughts.... She + attracted him oddly.... At least this afternoon she had attracted him.... + </p> + <p> + And repelled him.... + </p> + <p> + A wholesome gust of moral impatience stirred him. He smacked the back of + the seat hard, as though he smacked himself. + </p> + <p> + No. He did not like it.... + </p> + <p> + A torn sunset of purple and crimson streamed raggedly up above and through + the half stripped trecs of Kensington Gardens, and he found himself + wishing that Heaven would give us fewer sublimities in sky and mountain + and more in our hearts. Against the background of darkling trees and + stormily flaming sky a girl was approaching him. There was little to be + seen of her but her outline. Something in her movement caught his eye and + carried his memory back to a sundown at Hunstanton. Then as she came + nearer he saw that it was Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + It was odd to see her here. He had thought she was at Newnham. + </p> + <p> + But anyhow it was very pleasant to see her. And there was something in + Eleanor that promised an answer to his necessity. The girl had a kind of + instinctive wisdom. She would understand the quality of his situation + better perhaps than any one. He would put the essentials of that situation + as fully and plainly as he could to her. Perhaps she, with that clear + young idealism of hers, would give him just the lift and the light of + which he stood in need. She would comprehend both sides of it, the points + about Phoebe as well as the points about God. + </p> + <p> + When first he saw her she seemed to be hurrying, but now she had fallen to + a loitering pace. She looked once or twice behind her and then ahead, + almost as though she expected some one and was not sure whether this + person would approach from east or west. She did not observe her father + until she was close upon him. + </p> + <p> + Then she was so astonished that for a moment she stood motionless, + regarding him. She made an odd movement, almost as if she would have + walked on, that she checked in its inception. Then she came up to him and + stood before him. “It's Dad,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know you were in London, Norah,” he began. + </p> + <p> + “I came up suddenly.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you been home?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I wasn't going home. At least—not until afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + Then she looked away from him, east and then west, and then met his eye + again. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you sit down, Norah?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know whether I can.” + </p> + <p> + She consulted the view again and seemed to come to a decision. “At least, + I will for a minute.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down. For a moment neither of them spoke.... + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here, little Norah?” + </p> + <p> + She gathered her wits. Then she spoke rather volubly. “I know it looks + bad, Daddy. I came up to meet a boy I know, who is going to France + to-morrow. I had to make excuses—up there. I hardly remember what + excuses I made.” + </p> + <p> + “A boy you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Do we know him?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet.” + </p> + <p> + For a time Scrope forgot the Church of the One True God altogether. “Who + is this boy?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + With a perceptible effort Eleanor assumed a tone of commonsense + conventionality. “He's a boy I met first when we were skating last year. + His sister has the study next to mine.” + </p> + <p> + Father looked at daughter, and she met his eyes. “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “It's all happened so quickly, Daddy,” she said, answering all that was + implicit in that “Well?” She went on, “I would have told you about him if + he had seemed to matter. But it was just a friendship. It didn't seem to + matter in any serious way. Of course we'd been good friends—and + talked about all sorts of things. And then suddenly you see,”—her + tone was offhand and matter-of-fact—“he has to go to France.” + </p> + <p> + She stared at her father with the expression of a hostess who talks about + the weather. And then the tears gathered and ran down her cheek. + </p> + <p> + She turned her face to the Serpentine and clenched her fist. + </p> + <p> + But she was now fairly weeping. “I didn't know he cared. I didn't know I + cared.” + </p> + <p> + His next question took a little time in coming. + </p> + <p> + “And it's love, little Norah?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She was comfortably crying now, the defensive altogether abandoned. “It's + love, Daddy.... Oh! love!.... He's going tomorrow.” For a minute or so + neither spoke. Scrope's mind was entirely made up in the matter. He + approved altogether of his daughter. But the traditions of parentage, his + habit of restrained decision, made him act a judicial part. “I'd like just + to see this boy,” he said, and added: “If it isn't rather interfering....” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Daddy!” she said. “Dear Daddy!” and touched his hand. “He'll be + coming here....” + </p> + <p> + “If you could tell me a few things about him,” said Scrope. “Is he an + undergraduate?” + </p> + <p> + “You see,” began Eleanor and paused to marshal her facts. “He graduated + this year. Then he's been in training at Cambridge. Properly he'd have a + fellowship. He took the Natural Science tripos, zoology chiefly. He's good + at philosophy, but of course our Cambridge philosophy is so silly—McTaggart + blowing bubbles.... His father's a doctor, Sir Hedley Riverton.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke her eyes had been roving up the path and down. “He's coming,” + she interrupted. She hesitated. “Would you mind if I went and spoke to him + first, Daddy?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course go to him. Go and warn him I'm here,” said Scrope. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor got up, and was immediately greeted with joyful gestures by an + approaching figure in khaki. The two young people quickened their paces as + they drew nearer one another. There was a rapid greeting; they stood close + together and spoke eagerly. Scrope could tell by their movements when he + became the subject of their talk. He saw the young man start and look over + Eleanor's shoulder, and he assumed an attitude of philosophical + contemplation of the water, so as to give the young man the liberty of his + profile. + </p> + <p> + He did not look up until they were quite close to him, and when he did he + saw a pleasant, slightly freckled fair face a little agitated, and very + honest blue eyes. “I hope you don't think, Sir, that it's bad form of me + to ask Eleanor to come up and see me as I've done. I telegraphed to her on + an impulse, and it's been very kind of her to come up to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” said Scrope, “sit down. You're Mr. Riverton?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Sir,” said the young man. He had the frequent “Sir” of the + subaltern. Scrope was in the centre of the seat, and the young officer sat + down on one side of him while Eleanor took up a watching position on her + father's other hand. “You see, Sir, we've hardly known each other—I + mean we've been associated over a philosophical society and all that sort + of thing, but in a more familiar way, I mean....” + </p> + <p> + He hung for a moment, just a little short of breath. Scrope helped him + with a grave but sympathetic movement of the head. “It's a little + difficult to explain,” the young man apologized. + </p> + <p> + “We hadn't understood, I think, either of us very much. We'd just been + friendly—and liked each other. And so it went on even when I was + training. And then when I found I had to go out—I'm going out a + little earlier than I expected—I thought suddenly I wouldn't ever go + to Cambridge again at all perhaps—and there was something in one of + her letters.... I thought of it a lot, Sir, I thought it all over, and I + thought it wasn't right for me to do anything and I didn't do anything + until this morning. And then I sort of had to telegraph. I know it was + frightful cheek and bad form and all that, Sir. It is. It would be worse + if she wasn't different—I mean, Sir, if she was just an ordinary + girl.... But I had a sort of feeling—just wanting to see her. I + don't suppose you've ever felt anything, Sir, as I felt I wanted to see + her—and just hear her speak to me....” + </p> + <p> + He glanced across Scrope at Eleanor. It was as if he justified himself to + them both. + </p> + <p> + Scrope glanced furtively at his daughter who was leaning forward with + tender eyes on her lover, and his heart went out to her. But his manner + remained judicial. + </p> + <p> + “All this is very sudden,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Or you would have heard all about it, Sir,” said young Riverton. “It's + just the hurry that has made this seem furtive. All that there is between + us, Sir, is just the two telegrams we've sent, hers and mine. I hope you + won't mind our having a little time together. We won't do anything very + committal. It's as much friendship as anything. I go by the evening train + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Mm,” said Serope with his eye on Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + “In these uncertain times,” he began. + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn't I take a risk too, Daddy?” said Eleanor sharply. + </p> + <p> + “I know there's that side of it,” said the young man. “I oughtn't to have + telegraphed,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Can't I take a risk?” exclaimed Eleanor. “I'm not a doll. I don't want to + live in wadding until all the world is safe for me.” + </p> + <p> + Scrope looked at the glowing face of the young man. + </p> + <p> + “Is this taking care of her?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “If you hadn't telegraphed—!” she cried with a threat in her voice, + and left it at that. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I feel about her—rather as if she was as strong as I am—in + those ways. Perhaps I shouldn't. I could hardly endure myself, Sir—cut + off from her. And a sort of blank. Nothing said.” + </p> + <p> + “You want to work out your own salvation,” said Scrope to his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “No one else can,” she answered. “I'm—I'm grown up.” + </p> + <p> + “Even if it hurts?” + </p> + <p> + “To live is to be hurt somehow,” she said. “This—This—” She + flashed her love. She intimated by a gesture that it is better to be + stabbed with a clean knife than to be suffocated or poisoned or to + decay.... + </p> + <p> + Scrope turned his eyes to the young man again. He liked him. He liked the + modelling of his mouth and chin and the line of his brows. He liked him + altogether. He pronounced his verdict slowly. “I suppose, after all,” he + said, “that this is better than the tender solicitude of a safe and + prosperous middleaged man. Eleanor, my dear, I've been thinking to-day + that a father who stands between his children and hardship, by doing + wrong, may really be doing them a wrong. You are a dear girl to me. I + won't stand between you two. Find your own salvation.” He got up. “I go + west,” he said, “presently. You, I think, go east.” + </p> + <p> + “I can assure you, Sir,” the young man began. + </p> + <p> + Scrope held his hand out. “Take your life in your own way,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He turned to Eleanor. “Talk as you will,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She clasped his hand with emotion. Then she turned to the waiting young + man, who saluted. + </p> + <p> + “You'll come back to supper?” Scrope said, without thinking out the + implications of that invitation. + </p> + <p> + She assented as carelessly. The fact that she and her lover were to go, + with their meeting legalized and blessed, excluded all other + considerations. The two young people turned to each other. + </p> + <p> + Scrope stood for a moment or so and then sat down again. + </p> + <p> + For a time he could think only of Eleanor.... He watched the two young + people as they went eastward. As they walked their shoulders and elbows + bumped amicably together. + </p> + <p> + (10) + </p> + <p> + Presently he sought to resume the interrupted thread of his thoughts. He + knew that he had been dealing with some very tremendous and urgent problem + when Eleanor had appeared. Then he remembered that Eleanor at the time of + her approach had seemed to be a solution rather than an interruption. + Well, she had her own life. She was making her own life. Instead of + solving his problems she was solving her own. God bless those dear grave + children! They were nearer the elemental things than he was. That eastward + path led to Victoria—and thence to a very probable death. The lad + was in the infantry and going straight into the trenches. + </p> + <p> + Love, death, God; this war was bringing the whole world back to elemental + things, to heroic things. The years of comedy and comfort were at an end + in Europe; the age of steel and want was here. And he had been thinking—What + had he been thinking? + </p> + <p> + He mused, and the scheme of his perplexities reshaped itself in his mind. + But at that time he did not realize that a powerful new light was falling + upon it now, cast by the tragic illumination of these young lovers whose + love began with a parting. He did not see how reality had come to all + things through that one intense reality. He reverted to the question as he + had put it to himself, before first he recognized Eleanor. Did he believe + in God? Should he go on with this Sunderbund adventure in which he no + longer believed? Should he play for safety and comfort, trusting to God's + toleration? Or go back to his family and warn them of the years of + struggle and poverty his renunciation cast upon them? + </p> + <p> + Somehow Lady Sunderbund's chapel was very remote and flimsy now, and the + hardships of poverty seemed less black than the hardship of a youthful + death. + </p> + <p> + Did he believe in God? Again he put that fundamental question to himself. + </p> + <p> + He sat very still in the sunset peace, with his eyes upon the steel mirror + of the waters. The question seemed to fill the whole scene, to wait, even + as the water and sky and the windless trees were waiting.... + </p> + <p> + And then by imperceptible degrees there grew in Scrope's mind the + persuasion that he was in the presence of the living God. This time there + was no vision of angels nor stars, no snapping of bow-strings, no + throbbing of the heart nor change of scene, no magic and melodramatic + drawing back of the curtain from the mysteries; the water and the bridge, + the ragged black trees, and a distant boat that broke the silvery calm + with an arrow of black ripples, all these things were still before him. + But God was there too. God was everywhere about him. This persuasion was + over him and about him; a dome of protection, a power in his nerves, a + peace in his heart. It was an exalting beauty; it was a perfected + conviction.... This indeed was the coming of God, the real coming of God. + For the first time Scrope was absolutely sure that for the rest of his + life he would possess God. Everything that had so perplexed him seemed to + be clear now, and his troubles lay at the foot of this last complete + realization like a litter of dust and leaves in the foreground of a + sunlit, snowy mountain range. + </p> + <p> + It was a little incredible that he could ever have doubted. + </p> + <p> + (11) + </p> + <p> + It was a phase of extreme intellectual clairvoyance. A multitude of things + that hitherto had been higgledy-piggledy, contradictory and incongruous in + his mind became lucid, serene, full and assured. He seemed to see all + things plainly as one sees things plainly through perfectly clear still + water in the shadows of a summer noon. His doubts about God, his periods + of complete forgetfulness and disregard of God, this conflict of his + instincts and the habits and affections of his daily life with the service + of God, ceased to be perplexing incompatibilities and were manifest as + necessary, understandable aspects of the business of living. + </p> + <p> + It was no longer a riddle that little immediate things should seem of more + importance than great and final things. For man is a creature thrusting + his way up from the beast to divinity, from the blindness of individuality + to the knowledge of a common end. We stand deep in the engagements of our + individual lives looking up to God, and only realizing in our moments of + exaltation that through God we can escape from and rule and alter the + whole world-wide scheme of individual lives. Only in phases of + illumination do we realize the creative powers that lie ready to man's + hand. Personal affections, immediate obligations, ambitions, self-seeking, + these are among the natural and essential things of our individual lives, + as intimate almost as our primordial lusts and needs; God, the true God, + is a later revelation, a newer, less natural thing in us; a knowledge + still remote, uncertain, and confused with superstition; an apprehension + as yet entangled with barbaric traditions of fear and with ceremonial + surgeries, blood sacrifices, and the maddest barbarities of thought. We + are only beginning to realize that God is here; so far as our minds go he + is still not here continually; we perceive him and then again we are blind + to him. God is the last thing added to the completeness of human life. To + most His presence is imperceptible throughout their lives; they know as + little of him as a savage knows of the electric waves that beat through us + for ever from the sun. All this appeared now so clear and necessary to + Scrope that he was astonished he had ever found the quality of + contradiction in these manifest facts. + </p> + <p> + In this unprecedented lucidity that had now come to him, Scrope saw as a + clear and simple necessity that there can be no such thing as a continuous + living presence of God in our lives. That is an unreasonable desire. There + is no permanent exaltation of belief. It is contrary to the nature of + life. One cannot keep actively believing in and realizing God round all + the twenty-four hours any more than one can keep awake through the whole + cycle of night and day, day after day. If it were possible so to apprehend + God without cessation, life would dissolve in religious ecstasy. But + nothing human has ever had the power to hold the curtain of sense + continually aside and retain the light of God always. We must get along by + remembering our moments of assurance. Even Jesus himself, leader of all + those who have hailed the coming kingdom of God, had cried upon the cross, + “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” The business of life on + earth, life itself, is a thing curtained off, as it were, from such + immediate convictions. That is in the constitution of life. Our ordinary + state of belief, even when we are free from doubt, is necessarily far + removed from the intuitive certainty of sight and hearing. It is a + persuasion, it falls far short of perception.... + </p> + <p> + “We don't know directly,” Scrope said to himself with a checking gesture + of the hand, “we don't see. We can't. We hold on to the remembered + glimpse, we go over our reasons.”... + </p> + <p> + And it was clear too just because God is thus manifest like the momentary + drawing of a curtain, sometimes to this man for a time and sometimes to + that, but never continuously to any, and because the perception of him + depends upon the ability and quality of the perceiver, because to the + intellectual man God is necessarily a formula, to the active man a will + and a commandment, and to the emotional man love, there can be no creed + defining him for all men, and no ritual and special forms of service to + justify a priesthood. “God is God,” he whispered to himself, and the + phrase seemed to him the discovery of a sufficient creed. God is his own + definition; there is no other definition of God. Scrope had troubled + himself with endless arguments whether God was a person, whether he was + concerned with personal troubles, whether he loved, whether he was finite. + It were as reasonable to argue whether God was a frog or a rock or a tree. + He had imagined God as a figure of youth and courage, had perceived him as + an effulgence of leadership, a captain like the sun. The vision of his + drug-quickened mind had but symbolized what was otherwise inexpressible. + Of that he was now sure. He had not seen the invisible but only its sign + and visible likeness. He knew now that all such presentations were true + and that all such presentations were false. Just as much and just as + little was God the darkness and the brightness of the ripples under the + bows of the distant boat, the black beauty of the leaves and twigs of + those trees now acid-clear against the flushed and deepening sky. These + riddles of the profundities were beyond the compass of common living. They + were beyond the needs of common living. He was but a little earth + parasite, sitting idle in the darkling day, trying to understand his + infinitesimal functions on a minor planet. Within the compass of + terrestrial living God showed himself in its own terms. The life of man on + earth was a struggle for unity of spirit and for unity with his kind, and + the aspect of God that alone mattered to man was a unifying kingship + without and within. So long as men were men, so would they see God. Only + when they reached the crest could they begin to look beyond. So we knew + God, so God was to us; since we struggled, he led our struggle, since we + were finite and mortal he defined an aim, his personality was the answer + to our personality; but God, except in so far as he was to us, remained + inaccessible, inexplicable, wonderful, shining through beauty, shining + beyond research, greater than time or space, above good and evil and pain + and pleasure. + </p> + <p> + (12) + </p> + <p> + Serope's mind was saturated as it had never been before by his sense of + the immediate presence of God. He floated in that realization. He was not + so much thinking now as conversing starkly with the divine interlocutor, + who penetrated all things and saw into and illuminated every recess of his + mind. He spread out his ideas to the test of this presence; he brought out + his hazards and interpretations that this light might judge them. + </p> + <p> + There came back to his mind the substance of his two former visions; they + assumed now a reciprocal quality, they explained one another and the + riddle before him. The first had shown him the personal human aspect of + God, he had seen God as the unifying captain calling for his personal + service, the second had set the stage for that service in the spectacle of + mankind's adventure. He had been shown a great multitude of human spirits + reaching up at countless points towards the conception of the racial unity + under a divine leadership, he had seen mankind on the verge of awakening + to the kingdom of God. “That solves no mystery,” he whispered, gripping + the seat and frowning at the water; “mysteries remain mysteries; but that + is the reality of religion. And now, now, what is my place? What have I to + do? That is the question I have been asking always; the question that this + moment now will answer; what have I to do?...” + </p> + <p> + God was coming into the life of all mankind in the likeness of a captain + and a king; all the governments of men, all the leagues of men, their + debts and claims and possessions, must give way to the world republic + under God the king. For five troubled years he had been staring religion + in the face, and now he saw that it must mean this—or be no more + than fetishism, Obi, Orphic mysteries or ceremonies of Demeter, a legacy + of mental dirtiness, a residue of self-mutilation and superstitious + sacrifices from the cunning, fear-haunted, ape-dog phase of human + development. But it did mean this. And every one who apprehended as much + was called by that very apprehension to the service of God's kingdom. To + live and serve God's kingdom on earth, to help to bring it about, to + propagate the idea of it, to establish the method of it, to incorporate + all that one made and all that one did into its growing reality, was the + only possible life that could be lived, once that God was known. + </p> + <p> + He sat with his hands gripping his knees, as if he were holding on to his + idea. “And now for my part,” he whispered, brows knit, “now for my part.” + </p> + <p> + Ever since he had given his confirmation addresses he had been clear that + his task, or at least a considerable portion of his task, was to tell of + this faith in God and of this conception of service in his kingdom as the + form and rule of human life and human society. But up to now he had been + floundering hopelessly in his search for a method and means of telling. + That, he saw, still needed to be thought out. For example, one cannot run + through the world crying, “The Kingdom of God is at hand.” Men's minds + were still so filled with old theological ideas that for the most part + they would understand by that only a fantasy of some great coming of + angels and fiery chariots and judgments, and hardly a soul but would doubt + one's sanity and turn scornfully away. But one must proclaim God not to + confuse but to convince men's minds. It was that and the habit of his + priestly calling that had disposed him towards a pulpit. There he could + reason and explain. The decorative genius of Lady Sunderbund had turned + that intention into a vast iridescent absurdity. + </p> + <p> + This sense he had of thinking openly in the sight of God, enabled him to + see the adventure of Lady Sunderbund without illusion and without shame. + He saw himself at once honest and disingenuous, divided between two aims. + He had no doubt now of the path he had to pursue. A stronger man of + permanently clear aims might possibly turn Lady Sunderbund into a useful + opportunity, oblige her to provide the rostrum he needed; but for himself, + he knew he had neither the needed strength nor clearness; she would + smother him in decoration, overcome him by her picturesque persistence. It + might be ridiculous to run away from her, but it was necessary. And he was + equally clear now that for him there must be no idea of any pulpit, of any + sustained mission. He was a man of intellectual moods; only at times, he + realized, had he the inspiration of truth; upon such uncertain snatches + and glimpses he must live; to make his life a ministry would be to face + phases when he would simply be “carrying on,” with his mind blank and his + faith asleep. + </p> + <p> + His thought spread out from this perennial decision to more general things + again. Had God any need of organized priests at all? Wasn't that just what + had been the matter with religion for the last three thousand years? + </p> + <p> + His vision and his sense of access to God had given a new courage to his + mind; in these moods of enlightenment he could see the world as a + comprehensible ball, he could see history as an understandable drama. He + had always been on the verge of realizing before, he realized now, the two + entirely different and antagonistic strands that interweave in the twisted + rope of contemporary religion; the old strand of the priest, the + fetishistic element of the blood sacrifice and the obscene rite, the + element of ritual and tradition, of the cult, the caste, the consecrated + tribe; and interwoven with this so closely as to be scarcely separable in + any existing religion was the new strand, the religion of the prophets, + the unidolatrous universal worship of the one true God. Priest religion is + the antithesis to prophet religion. He saw that the founders of all the + great existing religions of the world had been like himself—only + that he was a weak and commonplace man with no creative force, and they + had been great men of enormous initiative—men reaching out, and + never with a complete definition, from the old kind of religion to the + new. The Hebrew prophets, Jesus, whom the priests killed when Pilate would + have spared him, Mohammed, Buddha, had this much in common that they had + sought to lead men from temple worship, idol worship, from rites and + ceremonies and the rule of priests, from anniversaryism and + sacramentalism, into a direct and simple relation to the simplicity of + God. Religious progress had always been liberation and simplification. But + none of these efforts had got altogether clear. The organizing temper in + men, the disposition to dogmatic theorizing, the distrust of the + discretion of the young by the wisdom of age, the fear of indiscipline + which is so just in warfare and so foolish in education, the tremendous + power of the propitiatory tradition, had always caught and crippled every + new gospel before it had run a score of years. Jesus for example gave man + neither a theology nor a church organization; His sacrament was an + innocent feast of memorial; but the fearful, limited, imitative men he + left to carry on his work speedily restored all these three abominations + of the antiquated religion, theology, priest, and sacrifice. Jesus indeed, + caught into identification with the ancient victim of the harvest + sacrifice and turned from a plain teacher into a horrible blood bath and a + mock cannibal meal, was surely the supreme feat of the ironies of + chance.... + </p> + <p> + “It is curious how I drift back to Jesus,” said Scrope. “I have never seen + how much truth and good there was in his teaching until I broke away from + Christianity and began to see him plain. If I go on as I am going, I shall + end a Nazarene....” + </p> + <p> + He thought on. He had a feeling of temerity, but then it seemed as if God + within him bade him be of good courage. + </p> + <p> + Already in a glow of inspiration he had said practically as much as he was + now thinking in his confirmation address, but now he realized completely + what it was he had then said. There could be no priests, no specialized + ministers of the one true God, because every man to the utmost measure of + his capacity was bound to be God's priest and minister. Many things one + may leave to specialists: surgery, detailed administration, chemistry, for + example; but it is for every man to think his own philosophy and think out + his own religion. One man may tell another, but no man may take charge of + another. A man may avail himself of electrician or gardener or what not, + but he must stand directly before God; he may suffer neither priest nor + king. These other things are incidental, but God, the kingdom of God, is + what he is for. + </p> + <p> + “Good,” he said, checking his reasoning. “So I must bear witness to God—but + neither as priest nor pastor. I must write and talk about him as I can. No + reason why I should not live by such writing and talking if it does not + hamper my message to do so. But there must be no high place, no ordered + congregation. I begin to see my way....” + </p> + <p> + The evening was growing dark and chill about him now, the sky was barred + with deep bluish purple bands drawn across a chilly brightness that had + already forgotten the sun, the trees were black and dim, but his + understanding of his place and duty was growing very definite. + </p> + <p> + “And this duty to bear witness to God's kingdom and serve it is so plain + that I must not deflect my witness even by a little, though to do so means + comfort and security for my wife and children. God comes first....” + </p> + <p> + “They must not come between God and me....” + </p> + <p> + “But there is more in it than that.” + </p> + <p> + He had come round at last through the long clearing-up of his mind, to his + fundamental problem again. He sat darkly reluctant. + </p> + <p> + “I must not play priest or providence to them,” he admitted at last. “I + must not even stand between God and them.” + </p> + <p> + He saw now what he had been doing; it had been the flaw in his faith that + he would not trust his family to God. And he saw too that this distrust + has been the flaw in the faith of all religious systems hitherto.... + </p> + <p> + (13) + </p> + <p> + In this strange voyage of the spirit which was now drawing to its end, in + which Scrope had travelled from the confused, unanalyzed formulas and + assumptions and implications of his rectory upbringing to his present + stark and simple realization of God, he had at times made some remarkable + self-identifications. He was naturally much given to analogy; every train + of thought in his mind set up induced parallel currents. He had likened + himself to the Anglican church, to the whole Christian body, as, for + example, in his imagined second conversation with the angel of God. But + now he found himself associating himself with a still more far-reaching + section of mankind. This excess of solicitude was traceable perhaps in + nearly every one in all the past of mankind who had ever had the vision of + God. An excessive solicitude to shield those others from one's own trials + and hardships, to preserve the exact quality of the revelation, for + example, had been the fruitful cause of crippling errors, spiritual + tyrannies, dogmatisms, dissensions, and futilities. “Suffer little + children to come unto me”; the text came into his head with an effect of + contribution. The parent in us all flares out at the thought of the + younger and weaker minds; we hide difficulties, seek to spare them from + the fires that temper the spirit, the sharp edge of the truth that shapes + the soul. Christian is always trying to have a carriage sent back from the + Celestial City for his family. Why, we ask, should they flounder + dangerously in the morasses that we escaped, or wander in the forest in + which we lost ourselves? Catch these souls young, therefore, save them + before they know they exist, kidnap them to heaven; vaccinate them with a + catechism they may never understand, lull them into comfort and routine. + Instinct plays us false here as it plays the savage mother false when she + snatches her fevered child from the doctor's hands. The last act of faith + is to trust those we love to God.... + </p> + <p> + Hitherto he had seen the great nets of theological overstatement and dogma + that kept mankind from God as if they were the work of purely evil things + in man, of pride, of self-assertion, of a desire to possess and dominate + the minds and souls of others. It was only now that he saw how large a + share in the obstruction of God's Kingdom had been played by the love of + the elder and the parent, by the carefulness, the fussy care, of good men + and women. He had wandered in wildernesses of unbelief, in dangerous + places of doubt and questioning, but he had left his wife and children + safe and secure in the self-satisfaction of orthodoxy. To none of them + except to Eleanor had he ever talked with any freedom of his new + apprehensions of religious reality. And that had been at Eleanor's + initiative. There was, he saw now, something of insolence and something of + treachery in this concealment. His ruling disposition throughout the + crisis had been to force comfort and worldly well-being upon all those + dependants even at the price of his own spiritual integrity. In no way had + he consulted them upon the bargain.... While we have pottered, each for + the little good of his own family, each for the lessons and clothes and + leisure of his own children, assenting to this injustice, conforming to + that dishonest custom, being myopically benevolent and fundamentally + treacherous, our accumulated folly has achieved this catastrophe. It is + not so much human wickedness as human weakness that has permitted the + youth of the world to go through this hell of blood and mud and fire. The + way to the kingdom of God is the only way to the true safety, the true + wellbeing of the children of men.... + </p> + <p> + It wasn't fair to them. But now he saw how unfair it was to them in a + light that has only shone plainly upon European life since the great + interlude of the armed peace came to an end in August, 1914. Until that + time it had been the fashion to ignore death and evade poverty and + necessity for the young. We can shield our young no longer, death has + broken through our precautions and tender evasions—and his eyes went + eastward into the twilight that had swallowed up his daughter and her + lover. + </p> + <p> + The tumbled darkling sky, monstrous masses of frowning blue, with icy gaps + of cold light, was like the great confusions of the war. All our youth has + had to go into that terrible and destructive chaos—because of the + kings and churches and nationalities sturdier-souled men would have set + aside. + </p> + <p> + Everything was sharp and clear in his mind now. Eleanor after all had + brought him his solution. + </p> + <p> + He sat quite still for a little while, and then stood up and turned + northward towards Notting Hill. + </p> + <p> + The keepers were closing Kensington Gardens, and he would have to skirt + the Park to Victoria Gate and go home by the Bayswater Road.... + </p> + <p> + (14) + </p> + <p> + As he walked he rearranged in his mind this long-overdue apology for his + faith that he was presently to make to his family. There was no one to + interrupt him and nothing to embarrass him, and so he was able to set out + everything very clearly and convincingly. There was perhaps a disposition + to digress into rather voluminous subordinate explanations, on such + themes, for instance, as sacramentalism, whereon he found himself + summarizing Frazer's Golden Bough, which the Chasters' controversy had + first obliged him to read, and upon the irrelevance of the question of + immortality to the process of salvation. But the reality of his + eclaircissement was very different from anything he prepared in these + anticipations. + </p> + <p> + Tea had been finished and put away, and the family was disposed about the + dining-room engaged in various evening occupations; Phoebe sat at the + table working at some mathematical problem, Clementina was reading with + her chin on her fist and a frown on her brow; Lady Ella, Miriam and Daphne + were busy making soft washing cloths for the wounded; Lady Ella had + brought home the demand for them from the Red Cross centre in Burlington + House. The family was all downstairs in the dining-room because the + evening was chilly, and there were no fires upstairs yet in the + drawing-room. He came into the room and exchanged greetings with Lady + Ella. Then he stood for a time surveying his children. Phoebe, he noted, + was a little flushed; she put passion into her work; on the whole she was + more like Eleanor than any other of them. Miriam knitted with a steady + skill. Clementina's face too expressed a tussle. He took up one of the + rough-knit washing-cloths upon the side-table, and asked how many could be + made in an hour. Then he asked some idle obvious question about the fire + upstairs. Clementina made an involuntary movement; he was disturbing her. + He hovered for a moment longer. He wanted to catch his wife's eye and + speak to her first. She looked up, but before he could convey his wish for + a private conference with her, she smiled at him and then bent over her + work again. + </p> + <p> + He went into the back study and lit his gas fire. Hitherto he had always + made a considerable explosion when he did so, but this time by taking + thought and lighting his match before he turned on the gas he did it with + only a gentle thud. Then he lit his reading-lamp and pulled down the blind—pausing + for a time to look at the lit dressmaker's opposite. Then he sat down + thoughtfully before the fire. Presently Ella would come in and he would + talk to her. He waited a long time, thinking only weakly and + inconsecutively, and then he became restless. Should he call her? + </p> + <p> + But he wanted their talk to begin in a natural-seeming way. He did not + want the portentousness of “wanting to speak” to her and calling her out + to him. He got up at last and went back into the other room. Clementina + had gone upstairs, and the book she had been reading was lying closed on + the sideboard. He saw it was one of Chasters' books, he took it up, it was + “The Core of Truth in Christianity,” and he felt an irrational shock at + the idea of Clementina reading it. In spite of his own immense changes of + opinion he had still to revise his conception of the polemical Chasters as + an evil influence in religion. He fidgeted past his wife to the mantel in + search of an imaginary mislaid pencil. Clementina came down with some + bandage linen she was cutting out. He hung over his wife in a way that he + felt must convey his desire for a conversation. Then he picked up + Chasters' book again. “Does any one want this?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not if I may have it again,” consented Clementina. + </p> + <p> + He took it back with him and began to read again those familiar + controversial pages. He read for the best part of an hour with his knees + drying until they smoked over the gas. What curious stuff it was! How it + wrangled! Was Chasters a religious man? Why did he write these books? Had + he really a passion for truth or only a Swift-like hatred of + weakly-thinking people? None of this stuff in his books was really wrong, + provided it was religious-spirited. Much of it had been indeed + destructively illuminating to its reader. It let daylight through all + sorts of walls. Indeed, the more one read the more vividly true its + acid-bit lines became.... And yet, and yet, there was something hateful in + the man's tone. Scrope held the book and thought. He had seen Chasters + once or twice. Chasters had the sort of face, the sort of voice, the sort + of bearing that made one think of his possibly saying upon occasion, + rudely and rejoicing, “More fool you!” Nevertheless Scrope perceived now + with an effort of discovery that it was from Chasters that he had taken + all the leading ideas of the new faith that was in him. Here was the stuff + of it. He had forgotten how much of it was here. During those months of + worried study while the threat of a Chasters prosecution hung over him his + mind had assimilated almost unknowingly every assimilable element of the + Chasters doctrine; he had either assimilated and transmuted it by the + alchemy of his own temperament, or he had reacted obviously and filled in + Chasters' gaps and pauses. Chasters could beat a road to the Holy of + Holies, and shy at entering it. But in spite of all the man's roughness, + in spite of a curious flavour of baseness and malice about him, the spirit + of truth had spoken through him. God has a use for harsh ministers. In one + man God lights the heart, in another the reason becomes a consuming fire. + God takes his own where he finds it. He does not limit himself to nice + people. In these matters of evidence and argument, in his contempt for + amiable, demoralizing compromise, Chasters served God as Scrope could + never hope to serve him. Scrope's new faith had perhaps been altogether + impossible if the Chasters controversy had not ploughed his mind. + </p> + <p> + For a time Scrope dwelt upon this remarkable realization. Then as he + turned over the pages his eyes rested on a passage of uncivil and + ungenerous sarcasm. Against old Likeman of all people!... + </p> + <p> + What did a girl like Clementina make of all this? How had she got the + book? From Eleanor? The stuff had not hurt Eleanor. Eleanor had been able + to take the good that Chasters taught, and reject the evil of his + spirit.... + </p> + <p> + He thought of Eleanor, gallantly working out her own salvation. The world + was moving fast to a phase of great freedom—for the young and the + bold.... He liked that boy.... + </p> + <p> + His thoughts came back with a start to his wife. The evening was slipping + by and he had momentous things to say to her. He went and just opened the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Ella!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Did you want me?” + </p> + <p> + “Presently.” + </p> + <p> + She put a liberal interpretation upon that “presently,” so that after what + seemed to him a long interval he had to call again, “Ella!” + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + (15) + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella was still, so to speak, a little in the other room when she came + to him. + </p> + <p> + “Shut that door, please,” he said, and felt the request had just that + flavour of portentousness he wished to avoid. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to talk to you—about some things. I've done something + rather serious to-day. I've made an important decision.” + </p> + <p> + Her face became anxious. “What do you mean?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he said, leaning upon the mantelshelf and looking down at the + gas flames, “I've never thought that we should all have to live in this + crowded house for long.” + </p> + <p> + “All!” she interrupted in a voice that made him look up sharply. “You're + not going away, Ted?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no. But I hoped we should all be going away in a little time. It + isn't so.” + </p> + <p> + “I never quite understood why you hoped that.” + </p> + <p> + “It was plain enough.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I should have found something to do that would have enabled us + to live in better style. I'd had a plan.” + </p> + <p> + “What plan?” + </p> + <p> + “It's fallen through.” + </p> + <p> + “But what plan was it?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I should be able to set up a sort of broad church chapel. I had + a promise.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was rich with indignation. “And she has betrayed you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “I have betrayed her.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella's face showed them still at cross purposes. He looked down again + and frowned. “I can't do that chapel business,” he said. “I've had to let + her down. I've got to let you all down. There's no help for it. It isn't + the way. I can't have anything to do with Lady Sunderbund and her chapel.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Lady Ella was still perplexed. + </p> + <p> + “It's too great a sacrifice.” + </p> + <p> + “Of us?” + </p> + <p> + “No, of myself. I can't get into her pulpit and do as she wants and keep + my conscience. It's been a horrible riddle for me. It means plunging into + all this poverty for good. But I can't work with her, Ella. She's + impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean—you're going to break with Lady Sunderbund?” + </p> + <p> + “I must.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, Teddy!”—she was a woman groping for flight amidst intolerable + perplexities—“why did you ever leave the church?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I have ceased to believe—” + </p> + <p> + “But had it nothing to do with Lady Sunderbund?” + </p> + <p> + He stared at her in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “If it means breaking with that woman,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You mean,” he said, beginning for the first time to comprehend her, “that + you don't mind the poverty?” + </p> + <p> + “Poverty!” she cried. “I cared for nothing but the disgrace.” + </p> + <p> + “Disgrace?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind, Ted! If it isn't true, if I've been dreaming....” + </p> + <p> + Instead of a woman stunned by a life sentence of poverty, he saw his wife + rejoicing as if she had heard good news. + </p> + <p> + Their minds were held for a minute by the sound of some one knocking at + the house door; one of the girls opened the door, there was a brief hubbub + in the passage and then they heard a cry of “Eleanor!” through the folding + doors. + </p> + <p> + “There's Eleanor,” he said, realizing he had told his wife nothing of the + encounter in Hyde Park. + </p> + <p> + They heard Eleanor's clear voice: “Where's Mummy? Or Daddy?” and then: + “Can't stay now, dears. Where's Mummy or Daddy?” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to have told you,” said Scrope quickly. “I met Eleanor in the + Park. By accident. She's come up unexpectedly. To meet a boy going to the + front. Quite a nice boy. Son of Riverton the doctor. The parting had made + them understand one another. It's all right, Ella. It's a little + irregular, but I'd stake my life on the boy. She's very lucky.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor appeared through the folding doors. She came to business at once. + </p> + <p> + “I promised you I'd come back to supper here, Daddy,” she said. “But I + don't want to have supper here. I want to stay out late.” + </p> + <p> + She saw her mother look perplexed. “Hasn't Daddy told you?” + </p> + <p> + “But where is young Riverton?” + </p> + <p> + “He's outside.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor became aware of a broad chink in the folding doors that was making + the dining-room an auditorium for their dialogue. She shut them deftly. + </p> + <p> + “I have told Mummy,” Scrope explained. “Bring him in to supper. We ought + to see him.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor hesitated. She indicated her sisters beyond the folding doors. + “They'll all be watching us, Mummy,” she said. “We'd be uncomfortable. And + besides—” + </p> + <p> + “But you can't go out and dine with him alone!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mummy! It's our only chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Customs are changing,” said Scrope. + </p> + <p> + “But can they?” asked Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see why not.” + </p> + <p> + The mother was still doubtful, but she was in no mood to cross her husband + that night. “It's an exceptional occasion,” said Scrope, and Eleanor knew + her point was won. She became radiant. “I can be late?” + </p> + <p> + Scrope handed her his latch-key without a word. + </p> + <p> + “You dear kind things,” she said, and went to the door. Then turned and + came back and kissed her father. Then she kissed her mother. “It is so + kind of you,” she said, and was gone. They listened to her passage through + a storm of questions in the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + “Three months ago that would have shocked me,” said Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't seen the boy,” said Scrope. + </p> + <p> + “But the appearances!” + </p> + <p> + “Aren't we rather breaking with appearances?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And he goes to-morrow—perhaps to get killed,” he added. “A lad like + a schoolboy. A young thing. Because of the political foolery that we + priests and teachers have suffered in the place of the Kingdom of God, + because we have allowed the religion of Europe to become a lie; because no + man spoke the word of God. You see—when I see that—see those + two, those children of one-and-twenty, wrenched by tragedy, beginning with + a parting.... It's like a knife slashing at all our appearances and + discretions.... Think of our lovemaking....” + </p> + <p> + The front door banged. + </p> + <p> + He had some idea of resuming their talk. But his was a scattered mind now. + </p> + <p> + “It's a quarter to eight,” he said as if in explanation. + </p> + <p> + “I must see to the supper,” said Lady Ella. + </p> + <p> + (16) + </p> + <p> + There was an air of tension at supper as though the whole family felt that + momentous words impended. But Phoebe had emerged victorious from her + mathematical struggle, and she seemed to eat with better appetite than she + had shown for some time. It was a cold meat supper; Lady Ella had found it + impossible to keep up the regular practice of a cooked dinner in the + evening, and now it was only on Thursdays that the Scropes, to preserve + their social tradition, dressed and dined; the rest of the week they + supped. Lady Ella never talked very much at supper; this evening was no + exception. Clementina talked of London University and Bedford College; she + had been making enquiries; Daphne described some of the mistresses at her + new school. The feeling that something was expected had got upon Scrope's + nerves. He talked a little in a flat and obvious way, and lapsed into + thoughtful silences. While supper was being cleared away he went back into + his study. + </p> + <p> + Thence he returned to the dining-room hearthrug as his family resumed + their various occupations. + </p> + <p> + He tried to speak in a casual conversational tone. + </p> + <p> + “I want to tell you all,” he said, “of something that has happened + to-day.” + </p> + <p> + He waited. Phoebe had begun to figure at a fresh sheet of computations. + Miriam bent her head closer over her work, as though she winced at what + was coming. Daphne and Clementina looked at one another. Their eyes said + “Eleanor!” But he was too full of his own intention to read that glance. + Only his wife regarded him attentively. + </p> + <p> + “It concerns you all,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He looked at Phoebe. He saw Lady Ella's hand go out and touch the girl's + hand gently to make her desist. Phoebe obeyed, with a little sigh. + </p> + <p> + “I want to tell you that to-day I refused an income that would certainly + have exceeded fifteen hundred pounds a year.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina looked up now. This was not what she expected. Her expression + conveyed protesting enquiry. + </p> + <p> + “I want you all to understand why I did that and why we are in the + position we are in, and what lies before us. I want you to know what has + been going on in my mind.” + </p> + <p> + He looked down at the hearthrug, and tried to throw off a memory of his + Princhester classes for young women, that oppressed him. His manner he + forced to a more familiar note. He stuck his hands into his trouser + pockets. + </p> + <p> + “You know, my dears, I had to give up the church. I just simply didn't + believe any more in orthodox Church teaching. And I feel I've never + explained that properly to you. Not at all clearly. I want to explain that + now. It's a queer thing, I know, for me to say to you, but I want you to + understand that I am a religious man. I believe that God matters more than + wealth or comfort or position or the respect of men, that he also matters + more than your comfort and prosperity. God knows I have cared for your + comfort and prosperity. I don't want you to think that in all these + changes we have been through lately, I haven't been aware of all the + discomfort into which you have come—the relative discomfort. + Compared with Princhester this is dark and crowded and poverty-stricken. I + have never felt crowded before, but in this house I know you are horribly + crowded. It is a house that seems almost contrived for small discomforts. + This narrow passage outside; the incessant going up and down stairs. And + there are other things. There is the blankness of our London Sundays. What + is the good of pretending? They are desolating. There's the impossibility + too of getting good servants to come into our dug-out kitchen. I'm not + blind to all these sordid consequences. But all the same, God has to be + served first. I had to come to this. I felt I could not serve God any + longer as a bishop in the established church, because I did not believe + that the established church was serving God. I struggled against that + conviction—and I struggled against it largely for your sakes. But I + had to obey my conviction.... I haven't talked to you about these things + as much as I should have done, but partly at least that is due to the fact + that my own mind has been changing and reconsidering, going forward and + going back, and in that fluid state it didn't seem fair to tell you things + that I might presently find mistaken. But now I begin to feel that I have + really thought out things, and that they are definite enough to tell + you....” + </p> + <p> + He paused and resumed. “A number of things have helped to change the + opinions in which I grew up and in which you have grown up. There were + worries at Princhester; I didn't let you know much about them, but there + were. There was something harsh and cruel in that atmosphere. I saw for + the first time—it's a lesson I'm still only learning—how harsh + and greedy rich people and employing people are to poor people and working + people, and how ineffective our church was to make things better. That + struck me. There were religious disputes in the diocese too, and they + shook me. I thought my faith was built on a rock, and I found it was built + on sand. It was slipping and sliding long before the war. But the war + brought it down. Before the war such a lot of things in England and Europe + seemed like a comedy or a farce, a bad joke that one tolerated. One tried + half consciously, half avoiding the knowledge of what one was doing, to + keep one's own little circle and life civilized. The war shook all those + ideas of isolation, all that sort of evasion, down. The world is the + rightful kingdom of God; we had left its affairs to kings and emperors and + suchlike impostors, to priests and profit-seekers and greedy men. We were + genteel condoners. The war has ended that. It thrusts into all our lives. + It brings death so close—A fortnight ago twenty-seven people were + killed and injured within a mile of this by Zeppelin bombs.... Every one + loses some one.... Because through all that time men like myself were + going through our priestly mummeries, abasing ourselves to kings and + politicians, when we ought to have been crying out: 'No! No! There is no + righteousness in the world, there is no right government, except it be the + kingdom of God.'” + </p> + <p> + He paused and looked at them. They were all listening to him now. But he + was still haunted by a dread of preaching in his own family. He dropped to + the conversational note again. + </p> + <p> + “You see what I had in mind. I saw I must come out of this, and preach the + kingdom of God. That was my idea. I don't want to force it upon you, but I + want you to understand why I acted as I did. But let me come to the + particular thing that has happened to-day. I did not think when I made my + final decision to leave the church that it meant such poverty as this we + are living in—permanently. That is what I want to make clear to you. + I thought there would be a temporary dip into dinginess, but that was all. + There was a plan; at the time it seemed a right and reasonable plan; for + setting up a chapel in London, a very plain and simple undenominational + chapel, for the simple preaching of the world kingdom of God. There was + some one who seemed prepared to meet all the immediate demands for such a + chapel.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it Lady Sunderbund?” asked Clementina. + </p> + <p> + Scrope was pulled up abruptly. “Yes,” he said. “It seemed at first a quite + hopeful project.” + </p> + <p> + “We'd have hated that,” said Clementina, with a glance as if for assent, + at her mother. “We should all have hated that.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow it has fallen through.” + </p> + <p> + “We don't mind that,” said Clementina, and Daphne echoed her words. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see that there is any necessity to import this note of—hostility + to Lady Sunderbund into this matter.” He addressed himself rather more + definitely to Lady Ella. “She's a woman of a very extraordinary character, + highly emotional, energetic, generous to an extraordinary extent....” + </p> + <p> + Daphne made a little noise like a comment. + </p> + <p> + A faint acerbity in her father's voice responded. + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow you make a mistake if you think that the personality of Lady + Sunderbund has very much to do with this thing now. Her quality may have + brought out certain aspects of the situation rather more sharply than they + might have been brought out under other circumstances, but if this chapel + enterprise had been suggested by quite a different sort of person, by a + man, or by a committee, in the end I think I should have come to the same + conclusion. Leave Lady Sunderbund out. Any chapel was impossible. It is + just this specialization that has been the trouble with religion. It is + just this tendency to make it the business of a special sort of man, in a + special sort of building, on a special day—Every man, every + building, every day belongs equally to God. That is my conviction. I think + that the only possible existing sort of religions meeting is something + after the fashion of the Quaker meeting. In that there is no professional + religious man at all; not a trace of the sacrifices to the ancient + gods.... And no room for a professional religions man....” He felt his + argument did a little escape him. He snatched, “That is what I want to + make clear to you. God is not a speciality; he is a universal interest.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped. Both Daphne and Clementina seemed disposed to say something + and did not say anything. + </p> + <p> + Miriam was the first to speak. “Daddy,” she said, “I know I'm stupid. But + are we still Christians?” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to think for yourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “But I mean,” said Miriam, “are we—something like Quakers—a + sort of very broad Christians?” + </p> + <p> + “You are what you choose to be. If you want to keep in the church, then + you must keep in the church. If you feel that the Christian doctrine is + alive, then it is alive so far as you are concerned.” + </p> + <p> + “But the creeds?” asked Clementina. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. “So far as Christianity is defined by its creeds, I am + not a Christian. If we are going to call any sort of religious feeling + that has a respect for Jesus, Christianity, then no doubt I am a + Christian. But so was Mohammed at that rate. Let me tell you what I + believe. I believe in God, I believe in the immediate presence of God in + every human life, I believe that our lives have to serve the Kingdom of + God....” + </p> + <p> + “That practically is what Mr. Chasters calls 'The Core of Truth in + Christianity.'” + </p> + <p> + “You have been reading him?” + </p> + <p> + “Eleanor lent me the book. But Mr. Chasters keeps his living.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not Chasters,” said Scrope stiffly, and then relenting: “What he + does may be right for him. But I could not do as he does.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ella had said no word for some time. + </p> + <p> + “I would be ashamed,” she said quietly, “if you had not done as you have + done. I don't mind—The girls don't mind—all this.... Not when + we understand—as we do now.” + </p> + <p> + That was the limit of her eloquence. + </p> + <p> + “Not now that we understand, Daddy,” said Clementina, and a faint flavour + of Lady Sunderbund seemed to pass and vanish. + </p> + <p> + There was a queer little pause. He stood rather distressed and perplexed, + because the talk had not gone quite as he had intended it to go. It had + deteriorated towards personal issues. Phoebe broke the awkwardness by + jumping up and coming to her father. “Dear Daddy,” she said, and kissed + him. + </p> + <p> + “We didn't understand properly,” said Clementina, in the tone of one who + explains away much—that had never been spoken.... + </p> + <p> + “Daddy,” said Miriam with an inspiration, “may I play something to you + presently?” + </p> + <p> + “But the fire!” interjected Lady Ella, disposing of that idea. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to know, all of you, the faith I have,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Daphne had remained seated at the table. + </p> + <p> + “Are we never to go to church again?” she asked, as if at a loss. + </p> + <p> + (17) + </p> + <p> + Scrope went back into his little study. He felt shy and awkward with his + daughters now. He felt it would be difficult to get back to usualness with + them. To-night it would be impossible. To-morrow he must come down to + breakfast as though their talk had never occurred.... In his rehearsal of + this deliverance during his walk home he had spoken much more plainly of + his sense of the coming of God to rule the world and end the long age of + the warring nations and competing traders, and he had intended to speak + with equal plainness of the passionate subordination of the individual + life to this great common purpose of God and man, an aspect he had + scarcely mentioned at all. But in that little room, in the presence of + those dear familiar people, those great horizons of life had vanished. The + room with its folding doors had fixed the scale. The wallpaper had + smothered the Kingdom of God; he had been, he felt, domestic; it had been + an after-supper talk. He had been put out, too, by the mention of Lady + Sunderbund and the case of Chasters.... + </p> + <p> + In his study he consoled himself for this diminution of his intention. It + had taken him five years, he reflected, to get to his present real sense + of God's presence and to his personal subordination to God's purpose. It + had been a little absurd, he perceived, to expect these girls to leap at + once to a complete understanding of the halting hints, the allusive + indications of the thoughts that now possessed his soul. He tried like + some maiden speaker to recall exactly what it was he had said and what it + was he had forgotten to say.... This was merely a beginning, merely a + beginning. + </p> + <p> + After the girls had gone to bed, Lady Ella came to him and she was glowing + and tender; she was in love again as she had not been since the shadow had + first fallen between them. “I was so glad you spoke to them,” she said. + “They had been puzzled. But they are dear loyal girls.” + </p> + <p> + He tried to tell her rather more plainly what he felt about the whole + question of religion in their lives, but eloquence had departed from him. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Ella, life cannot get out of tragedy—and sordid tragedy—until + we bring about the Kingdom of God. It's no unreality that has made me come + out of the church.” + </p> + <p> + “No, dear. No,” she said soothingly and reassuringly. “With all these mere + boys going to the most dreadful deaths in the trenches, with death, + hardship and separation running amok in the world—” + </p> + <p> + “One has to do something,” she agreed. + </p> + <p> + “I know, dear,” he said, “that all this year of doubt and change has been + a dreadful year for you.” + </p> + <p> + “It was stupid of me,” she said, “but I have been so unhappy. It's over + now—but I was wretched. And there was nothing I could say.... I + prayed.... It isn't the poverty I feared ever, but the disgrace. Now—I'm + happy. I'm happy again. + </p> + <p> + “But how far do you come with me?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm with you.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” he said, “you are still a churchwoman?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” she said. “I don't mind.” + </p> + <p> + He stared at her. + </p> + <p> + “But I thought always that was what hurt you most, my breach with the + church.” + </p> + <p> + “Things are so different now,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Her heart dissolved within her into tender possessiveness. There came + flooding into her mind the old phrases of an ancient story: “Whither thou + goest I will go... thy people shall be my people and thy God my God.... + The Lord do so to me and more also if aught but death part thee and me.” + </p> + <p> + Just those words would Lady Ella have said to her husband now, but she was + capable of no such rhetoric. + </p> + <p> + “Whither thou goest,” she whispered almost inaudibly, and she could get no + further. “My dear,” she said. + </p> + <p> + (18) + </p> + <p> + At two o'clock the next morning Scrope was still up. He was sitting over + the snoring gas fire in his study. He did not want to go to bed. His mind + was too excited, he knew, for any hope of sleep. In the last twelve hours, + since he had gone out across the park to his momentous talk with Lady + Sunderbund, it seemed to him that his life had passed through its cardinal + crisis and come to its crown and decision. The spiritual voyage that had + begun five years ago amidst a stormy succession of theological nightmares + had reached harbour at last. He was established now in the sure conviction + of God's reality, and of his advent to unify the lives of men and to save + mankind. Some unobserved process in his mind had perfected that + conviction, behind the cloudy veil of his vacillations and moods. Surely + that work was finished now, and the day's experience had drawn the veil + and discovered God established for ever. + </p> + <p> + He contrasted this simple and overruling knowledge of God as the supreme + fact in a practical world with that vague and ineffective subject for + sentiment who had been the “God” of his Anglican days. Some theologian + once spoke of God as “the friend behind phenomena”; that Anglican deity + had been rather a vague flummery behind court and society, wealth, + “respectability,” and the comfortable life. And even while he had lived in + lipservice to that complaisant compromise, this true God had been here, + this God he now certainly professed, waiting for his allegiance, waiting + to take up the kingship of this distraught and bloodstained earth. The + finding of God is but the stripping of bandages from the eyes. Seek and ye + shall find.... + </p> + <p> + He whispered four words very softly: “The Kingdom of God!” + </p> + <p> + He was quite sure he had that now, quite sure. + </p> + <p> + The Kingdom of God! + </p> + <p> + That now was the form into which all his life must fall. He recalled his + vision of the silver sphere and of ten thousand diverse minds about the + world all making their ways to the same one conclusion. Here at last was a + king and emperor for mankind for whom one need have neither contempt nor + resentment; here was an aim for which man might forge the steel and wield + the scalpel, write and paint and till and teach. Upon this conception he + must model all his life. Upon this basis he must found friendships and + co-operations. All the great religions, Christianity, Islam, in the days + of their power and honesty, had proclaimed the advent of this kingdom of + God. It had been their common inspiration. A religion surrenders when it + abandons the promise of its Millennium. He had recovered that ancient and + immortal hope. All men must achieve it, and with their achievement the + rule of God begins. He muttered his faith. It made it more definite to put + it into words and utter it. “It comes. It surely comes. To-morrow I begin. + I will do no work that goes not Godward. Always now it shall be the truth + as near as I can put it. Always now it shall be the service of the + commonweal as well as I can do it. I will live for the ending of all false + kingship and priestcraft, for the eternal growth of the spirit of man....” + </p> + <p> + He was, he knew clearly, only one common soldier in a great army that was + finding its way to enlistment round and about the earth. He was not alone. + While the kings of this world fought for dominion these others gathered + and found themselves and one another, these others of the faith that grows + plain, these men who have resolved to end the bloodstained chronicles of + the Dynasts and the miseries of a world that trades in life, for ever. + They were many men, speaking divers tongues. He was but one who obeyed the + worldwide impulse. He could smile at the artless vanity that had blinded + him to the import of his earlier visions, that had made him imagine + himself a sole discoverer, a new Prophet, that had brought him so near to + founding a new sect. Every soldier in the new host was a recruiting + sergeant according to his opportunity.... And none was leader. Only God + was leader.... + </p> + <p> + “The achievement of the Kingdom of God;” this was his calling. Henceforth + this was his business in life.... + </p> + <p> + For a time he indulged in vague dreams of that kingdom of God on earth of + which he would be one of the makers; it was a dream of a shadowy splendour + of cities, of great scientific achievements, of a universal beauty, of + beautiful people living in the light of God, of a splendid adventure, + thrusting out at last among the stars. But neither his natural bent nor + his mental training inclined him to mechanical or administrative + explicitness. Much more was his dream a vision of men inwardly ennobled + and united in spirit. He saw history growing reasonable and life visibly + noble as mankind realized the divine aim. All the outward peace and order, + the joy of physical existence finely conceived, the mounting power and + widening aim were but the expression and verification of the growth of God + within. Then we would bear children for finer ends than the blood and mud + of battlefields. Life would tower up like a great flame. By faith we + reached forward to that. The vision grew more splendid as it grew more + metaphorical. And the price one paid for that; one gave sham dignities, + false honour, a Levitical righteousness, immediate peace, one bartered + kings and churches for God.... He looked at the mean, poverty-struck room, + he marked the dinginess and tawdriness of its detail and all the sordid + evidences of ungracious bargaining and grudging service in its + appointments. For all his life now he would have to live in such rooms. He + who had been one of the lucky ones.... Well, men were living in dug-outs + and dying gaily in muddy trenches, they had given limbs and lives, eyes + and the joy of movement, prosperity and pride, for a smaller cause and a + feebler assurance than this that he had found.... + </p> + <p> + (19) + </p> + <p> + Presently his thoughts were brought back to his family by the sounds of + Eleanor's return. He heard her key in the outer door; he heard her move + about in the hall and then slip lightly up to bed. He did not go out to + speak to her, and she did not note the light under his door. + </p> + <p> + He would talk to her later when this discovery of her own emotions no + longer dominated her mind. He recalled her departing figure and how she + had walked, touching and looking up to her young mate, and he a little + leaning to her.... + </p> + <p> + “God bless them and save them,” he said.... + </p> + <p> + He thought of her sisters. They had said but little to his clumsy + explanations. He thought of the years and experience that they must needs + pass through before they could think the fulness of his present thoughts, + and so he tempered his disappointment. They were a gallant group, he felt. + He had to thank Ella and good fortune that so they were. There was + Clementina with her odd quick combatant sharpness, a harder being than + Eleanor, but nevertheless a fine-spirited and even more independent. There + was Miriam, indefatigably kind. Phoebe too had a real passion of the + intellect and Daphne an innate disposition to service. But it was strange + how they had taken his proclamation of a conclusive breach with the church + as though it was a command they must, at least outwardly, obey. He had + expected them to be more deeply shocked; he had thought he would have to + argue against objections and convert them to his views. Their acquiescence + was strange. They were content he should think all this great issue out + and give his results to them. And his wife, well as he knew her, had + surprised him. He thought of her words: “Whither thou goest—” + </p> + <p> + He was dissatisfied with this unconditional agreement. Why could not his + wife meet God as he had met God? Why must Miriam put the fantastic + question—as though it was not for her to decide: “Are we still + Christians?” And pursuing this thought, why couldn't Lady Sunderbund set + up in religion for herself without going about the world seeking for a + priest and prophet. Were women Undines who must get their souls from + mortal men? And who was it tempted men to set themselves up as priests? It + was the wife, the disciple, the lover, who was the last, the most fatal + pitfall on the way to God. + </p> + <p> + He began to pray, still sitting as he prayed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh God!” he prayed. “Thou who has shown thyself to me, let me never + forget thee again. Save me from forgetfulness. And show thyself to those I + love; show thyself to all mankind. Use me, O God, use me; but keep my soul + alive. Save me from the presumption of the trusted servant; save me from + the vanity of authority.... + </p> + <p> + “And let thy light shine upon all those who are so dear to me.... Save + them from me. Take their dear loyalty....” + </p> + <p> + He paused. A flushed, childishly miserable face that stared indignantly + through glittering tears, rose before his eyes. He forgot that he had been + addressing God. + </p> + <p> + “How can I help you, you silly thing?” he said. “I would give my own soul + to know that God had given his peace to you. I could not do as you wished. + And I have hurt you!... You hurt yourself.... But all the time you would + have hampered me and tempted me—and wasted yourself. It was + impossible.... And yet you are so fine!” + </p> + <p> + He was struck by another aspect. + </p> + <p> + “Ella was happy—partly because Lady Sunderbund was hurt and left + desolated....” + </p> + <p> + “Both of them are still living upon nothings. Living for nothings. A + phantom way of living....” + </p> + <p> + He stared blankly at the humming blue gas jets amidst the incandescent + asbestos for a space. + </p> + <p> + “Make them understand,” he pleaded, as though he spoke confidentially of + some desirable and reasonable thing to a friend who sat beside him. “You + see it is so hard for them until they understand. It is easy enough when + one understands. Easy—” He reflected for some moments—“It is + as if they could not exist—except in relationship to other definite + people. I want them to exist—as now I exist—in relationship to + God. Knowing God....” + </p> + <p> + But now he was talking to himself again. + </p> + <p> + “So far as one can know God,” he said presently. + </p> + <p> + For a while he remained frowning at the fire. Then he bent forward, turned + out the gas, arose with the air of a man who relinquishes a difficult + task. “One is limited,” he said. “All one's ideas must fall within one's + limitations. Faith is a sort of tour de force. A feat of the imagination. + For such things as we are. Naturally—naturally.... One perceives it + clearly only in rare moments.... That alters nothing....” + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h4> + Mr. WELLS has also written the following novels: + </h4> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + LOVE AND MR. LEWISHAM + KIPPS + MR. POLLY + THE WHEELS OF CHANCE + THE NEW MACHIAVELLI + ANN VERONICA + TONO BUNGAY + MARRIAGE + BEALBY + THE PASSIONATE FRIENDS + THE WIFE OF SIR ISAAC HARMAN + THE RESEARCH MAGNIFICENT + MR. BRITLING SEES IT THROUGH + + The following fantastic and imaginative romances: + THE WAR OF THE WORLDS + THE TIME MACHINE + THE WONDERFUL VISIT + THE ISLAND OF DR. MOREAU + THE SEA LADY + THE SLEEPER AWAKES + THE FOOD OF THE GODS + THE WAR IN THE AIR + THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON + IN THE DAYS OF THE COMET + THE WORLD SET FREE + + And numerous Short Stories now collected in + One Volume under the title of + THE COUNTRY OF THE BLIND + + A Series of books upon Social, Religious and + Political questions: + ANTICIPATIONS (1900) + MANKIND IN THE MAKING + FIRST AND LAST THINGS (RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY) + NEW WORLDS FOR OLD + A MODERN UTOPIA + THE FUTURE IN AMERICA + AN ENGLISHMAN LOOKS AT THE WORLD + WHAT IS COMING? + WAR AND THE FUTURE + GOD THE INVISIBLE KING + + And two little books about children's play, called: + FLOOR GAMES and LITTLE WARS +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Soul of a Bishop, by H. G. Wells + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUL OF A BISHOP *** + +***** This file should be named 1269-h.htm or 1269-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/6/1269/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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