A Lost Cause Part 17

He was entirely dominated by the man. In a burst of nervous words, he poured out his thoughts. He told of his futile visit to Hamlyn, his keen distress at the result, the misery the agitation gave him, and the harm he believed it to be doing.

Blantyre listened with few words. Now and then he made a warm and penetrating remark.

"It will pa.s.s," he said at length; "G.o.d will give us peace again. He is trying the faith of the poor and ignorant among us. Our prayers will avail. But we will concert together that we may take such measures to stop the local evil as we properly can. I have been loath to move in the matter, but now that you have come to me we will join forces and take action. There are ways and means. I hate pulling wires and using influence, but one must sometimes. I had hoped it wouldn't be necessary.

But something must be done. Lord Huddersfield will take action for us.

The street meetings can be stopped at once. Then we can inaugurate a real press campaign and let the leader-writers loose. Hitherto it's been our policy to say nothing much, except in the religious papers, of course. But the time has come when we must fight, too. I was talking to Sir Michael Manicho about it the other day. A word or two from him and the country will be ringing with warnings. We can rob this Luther League of its powers in a week. It will _go on_, of course, but with its fangs drawn. The people who support it will, many of them, cease their subscriptions. And there is the law also. The magistrates of London are quite ready to take a strong stand. That is settled. And a word from the Archbishop, perhaps, would be a help. Public opinion is very easily turned."

He spoke calmly, but with conviction and a quiet sense of power. Carr began to see dimly what great forces were behind this man and others of his kind. The tremendous organising machinery of the Catholic Church was laid bare for a moment.

A most confidential talk followed. Blantyre gave the other details and names. He made it plain to Carr's astonished ears that those in high places were waiting to act, waiting to see if the Church needed them.

The depth and force of it all astonished him.

A bell began to ring. "There's evensong," said Blantyre, "I must be off.

It's my turn to say it to-night."

"I will come, too," Carr answered.

"Do, do! and take some food with us all afterwards, and we'll have a longer talk. You can't think how happy I am that we have come together.

What? You've never seen our church? Why, then, you've a treat in front of ye! Every one says it's beautiful. We all love it, we're all proud of it!"

He took him by the arm and led him away.

Not a word of the differences that separated them, no suspicion, or distrust, nothing but welcome and brotherhood!

The tall, bearded man and the quick, shaven Celt in his ca.s.sock went into the church together to pray--

"Give peace in our time, O Lord."

CHAPTER X

LOW WATER AND GREAT EXPECTATIONS

In a couple of months after the meeting between Carr and Blantyre, public opinion had spoken in no uncertain way about the "Luther League."

Public opinion in these days is very easily led in this or that direction--but only for a time. There is a vast stratum of common-sense, of love of justice, of wholesome sanity, in England, and it can always be reached by a little boring. In the end, especially upon any question which is in its essence sociological, a proper balance is found and the truth of a matter firmly established.

And Hamlyn's agitation was treated as a social question rather than a religious one, at any rate by a secular press. Whether the doings of the High Church party were legal or illegal according to the prayer-book (such was the line the papers took) was a question to be decided by experts in history and the authorities of the Church; a question, in fact, that ought to be decided in a legitimate way. What was, however, quite certain, was that the proceedings of Hamlyn and his party were improper, vulgar, and indecent. It was simply misleading nonsense to cover the Ritualistic party, a body of high-minded and earnest men, with the noisy and venomous vituperation of the streets. Freedom of thought was the heritage of every Englishman, and Hamlyn had simply elected himself a grand inquisitor of matters that did not concern him and which he was unable to understand. No dishonesty on the man's part was alleged. But his history was unearthed by one or two enterprising journalists, following the popular lead. It was shown that while nothing had ever been said against his personal character--and nothing was said now--he had risen from the position of a struggling local newspaper man to comparative affluence and the control of a large and costly organisation. The cash accounts of the League were scrutinised, and unkind remarks were made upon the constant advertis.e.m.e.nts of the League, with their cry for increased income and fresh subscribers. It was pointed out that people who supported a crusade made without authority by a self-const.i.tuted Peter the Hermit, over whom no proper control could be exercised and whose methods of prosecuting it were a mixture of buffoonery, uncharitable malice, and untruth, were incurring a serious responsibility.

In short, public opinion was told in plain language exactly how it ought to regard the campaign. Great newspapers spoke out during one fortnight with singular unanimity. Street meetings were promptly broken up by the police, and after some of the Luther Lecturers had been to prison, finding that public interest in their "martyrdom" was languis.h.i.+ng, they subsided into quiet, devotional meetings on the sands at popular watering-places. Whenever Mr. Hamlyn hired a hall and lectured on the iniquities of the local clergy, he was confronted by the spectacle of a sharp-faced man who took down every word of his utterances with scrupulous fidelity. It was always the same machine-like man, in Liverpool or in Plymouth, in Bath or Dundee--there he was. The agitator's eloquence was considerably checked. He was in no condition to sustain an action for slander or libel in which, he well knew, some poor clergyman would somehow be able to brief all the great hawk-faced leaders of the bar, gentlemen with whom Mr. Hamlyn wished to have as little as possible to do.

At such open-air meetings as were permitted, some un.o.btrusive stranger was generally to be found distributing leaflets among the crowd, which resembled nothing so much as the literature of the Luther League itself in its general "get-up" and appearance. On perusal, however, it proved to be of quite a different tenor, being nothing else than extracts from the best-known English newspapers on Mr. Hamlyn and his mission. This was very trying and disturbed the harmony of many meetings.

In the a.s.semblies convened at halls hired for the occasion,--admission by ticket only,--it frequently happened that some well-known local resident, who could not be denied, made his appearance, and with a few weighty words entirely changed the character of the meeting. The reports from his myrmidons all over the country, which reached Mr. Hamlyn in the Strand, showed a series of counter-moves which alarmed him in their neatness and ingenuity.

It had been for months a pleasing habit of the peripatetic Protestants under the Hamlyn banner to visit churches and make notes of the ornaments therein, afterwards lecturing on them in their own inimitable and humorous manner to crowds in back streets.

Mr. Moffatt, indeed--the young gentleman who had forsaken the plumbing and gas-fitting industry to become incandescent and watery on the Protestant war-path--had more than once broken a small crucifix with an umbrella. The lecturers found, however, that, as if by some concerted action, church doors were locked wherever they might go. The poor fellows' hunger for the sight of candlesticks and sanctuary lamps was hardly ever gratified now, and they were compelled to the somewhat ignominious expedient of nailing the bulls of Mr. Hamlyn to the doors of sacred buildings and going gloomily away.

On one occasion, Mr. Moffatt, who was a young fellow of considerable hardihood, arrived at a well-known sink of ritual during the week, where the incense used in church cost, it was reported, as much as _eight s.h.i.+llings a pound_! Failing in every effort to penetrate the building, one Sunday morning he mingled with a group of wors.h.i.+ppers and made an attempt to enter the church. Being a somewhat tubby youth of no great height, he followed closely on the footsteps of a ponderous gentleman quite six feet high, and congratulated himself he was escaping observation, just as one has seen a small dog slink nearer and nearer to the tempting joint upon the dinner-table. His hopes were doomed to failure. He was almost inside the porch when two stalwart church wardens barred the way and read him a paper, which stated that, as he was a known brawler who had been convicted of other illegal disturbances in G.o.d's house, entry was refused him.

At the moment, in his chagrin and surprise, Mr. Moffatt could think of no better retort than an injunction to the reader of the doc.u.ment to "keep his hair on." Then, gathering his faculties together, he commenced a vigorous protest as to his rights as a "baptized, confirmed communicant member of the Church of England" to make one of the congregation. No answer whatever was vouchsafed him, and he was compelled to stand meekly by while the usual members of the congregation were admitted.

He bethought himself of an appeal to the majesty of the law! "Very well, then," he said, "I shall go and fetch a policeman. That's all."

One of the church wardens opened the inner door of the church and beckoned to some one. A sergeant of police, in his uniform, emerged quietly. Mr. Moffatt started, muttered something about "writing to the Bishop," and left the vicinity of the church without further ado.

And it was thus all over the country. Hamlyn and his son realised that a strong and powerful organisation was arrayed against them. Their tactics were counter-checked at every turn.

As a natural consequence of all this, the subscriptions to the League fell away at a most alarming rate. The street and public hall collections of the lecturers dwindled until they could hardly pay themselves their own modest emoluments. The general subscriptions and special donations to the head office were in a no less unsatisfactory condition.

A very great number of people, with an honest dislike and distrust of practices which seemed to them against the law of the Church of England (as they understood it), had hitherto sent Hamlyn considerable sums of money. His campaign seemed to them a real and efficacious method of dealing with the question, and his methods had not been very clear to them in their actual detail.

But when the most influential part of the press began to speak with no uncertain voice, these people began to hurriedly repudiate any connection with the Luther League and to tie their purse-strings in a very tight knot indeed. Then, again, there was a second not inconsiderable cla.s.s of people whose support was withdrawn. These were more or less of the Miss Pritchett order. They had some real or fancied grievance against the vicar of the parish in which they lived, and the machinery of Hamlyn's League was found to be at their service for the purposes of revenge. Under the cover of religious truth they were able to gratify a private spite--a method of campaign as old as history itself. The aims of these people had been achieved. That is to say, Mr.

Hamlyn or his friends had made themselves more or less a thorn in the sides of the local clergy, had "banged the field-piece, tw.a.n.ged the lyre," and departed with as much money as they were able to collect in the cause of Protestant Truth.

And those people who had first moved in the matter saw that, after all, the _status ante quo_ had not been altered in the least, that nothing had happened at all! One or two people of no importance whatever might have left the Church, but the general result was, as a rule, an increase of the attacked congregation and, inevitably, an enormous increase of personal popularity of the priest and of loyalty to him and his teachings.

So this second cla.s.s of worthies also became hard-hearted to the perfervid advertis.e.m.e.nts of the League, b.u.t.toned up their pockets, and tried to behave as though the names of those twin greatnesses, Martin Luther and Samuel Hamlyn, had never crossed their lips.

In the offices in the Strand, all these causes were thoroughly appreciated and understood. The prosperity, or rather the consciousness of it, which had seemed to ooze from Mr. Hamlyn's features, was no more to be seen. The countenance of the Protestant Pope wore an anxious and hara.s.sed expression when he was alone with his son, and their talks together were frequent and of long duration.

One disastrous morning the post brought nothing in the way of fuel for the Protestant fire except a single miserable little post-office order for seven s.h.i.+llings and sixpence, a donation from "A Baptist Friend."

Protestant Truth was in a bad way. Both the Hamlyns thought so as they sat down gloomily for a private conference in the inner room.

"There's a good balance in the bank, of course," Hamlyn said. "We've got staying power for some time yet, and the salaries are safe. But it's the future we've got to look to. The righteous cause can't go on nothing."

"Don't you worry, Father," said Sam, "that Exeter Hall speaking has pulled you down a bit. You're not your real self. I haven't a doubt that you'll think of something to wake things up in a day or two."

"Hope so, I'm sure, though I can't think of anything at present. But seven and six! It's the first day Protestantism's dropped below a matter of two pound odd."

"There's plenty of other posts during the day, Pa."

"That's true. One day or three days don't matter. But it shows how things are going. The Romans have been too cunning for us, Sam. The wiles of the Scarlet Woman are prevailing; honest, straightforward Protestants are being undermined."

"But think of the letters of sympathy we've 'ad since the great Ritualistic conspiracy has come up. The real hearty Protestants are as faithful as they ever were."

"Yes, they are," said Mr. Hamlyn reflectively; "we can always fall back on them, and we've got some thousands of names and addresses on the books. The League'll _go on_ safe enough, there'll always be labourers in the vineyard and them as will pay the overseer his just dues. But it's 'ard, after the splendid success we've had, to sink down into a small commonplace affair with just a bare living. The real red-hot Protestants, who are really _afraid_ of Rome and that, are so few! These disgusting newspapers been showing up everything and the lukewarm people have been falling away. All the real money is flowing back into Roman channels. If there were more really earnest Protestants we might keep on as good as ever. But there's not. We haven't sold a gross of _b.l.o.o.d.y Marys_ during the month. It's a pity we had to suppress the _Confessional_; that was a real seller--and did a lot of good," Mr.

Hamlyn added as an afterthought.

"We couldn't well do no other after the 'int we got from the _Vigilance_ people," said Sam.

"I suppose not. But it was a great pity."

"You're due at Malakoff House to-night, aren't you, Pa?"