XIV

HE SPEAKS THE MERE CONTRARY

Love's Labor's Lost, i. 1.

Ashe had in these days been dallying with temptation. He contrived not

to confess it to himself, but by a variety of ingenious devices to

cheat his conscience into the belief that he was serving the church by

his consultations with Mrs. Fenton, his services to her charity work,

and his continual thought of her views in regard to the election. It is

amazing how clever even a dull man may be when it comes to inventing

excuses for his own beguiling; and Philip struggled with such

desperation to convince himself that he was acting disinterestedly that

he all but succeeded. He could not, however, achieve what is

impossible; and there was a pain in the heart of the young man which

testified that his sense of right was sore despite all his cunning.

At the meeting of the Charity Board to which Mr. Strathmore had been

going, Ashe sat beside Mrs. Fenton. His obvious excuse was that she was

to make a report, and that he, as a visitor in her district, was able

to support her in case there were any discussion. The session had been

looked forward to with much interest, from the general feeling that

there would probably be something like a conflict between the Frontford

and Strathmore factions. There had for a long time been a growing

division on the subject of the method of conducting church charities;

and it was expected that at this meeting the feeling would break out

openly. It would not be easy to say how it was known that anything of

the sort was to occur. There was no announcement of business which

differed materially from that of the ordinary sessions of the board.

The time did not seem propitious for a discussion, and there were

evident reasons why the followers of either candidate might be supposed

to wish to avoid arousing antagonism; yet it was certain that the

meeting would not close without some sort of a demonstration. There are

times when public feeling seems to demand and force declarations of

principle or of purpose which policy would gladly suppress; and such a

time had arrived in the Charity Board. Ashe was so strongly moved by

the possibilities of the situation that even the proximity of Mrs.

Fenton did not absorb his attention; although he was not for a moment

unconscious of being beside her.

The business routine was gone through, and after that half an hour

passed in the ordinary fashion. At the end of that time Mr. Thurston,

with apparent unconsciousness, threw a spark into the combustibles.

"The fact seems to be," he said, "that there has been too much the air

of proselyting in our charity work, and that has brought it into

discredit with the class which we most wish to reach."

He sat down with a face admirably controlled. Mr. Strathmore showed in

his benignant countenance nothing save charity for all and general

approval of the remarks of his subordinate. The audience stirred

nervously, realizing that the critical moment had come. Father

Frontford, pale, ascetic, austere, rose with grave deliberation.

"What has just been said," he began, "brings up a subject which has

been in the minds of many for some months,--the question whether there

is or should be any difference between the charity work of the church,

and that of the city or the world in general. As far as I understand

the position of the last speaker, I take it to be his opinion that

there is, or at least that there should be, no such difference. He

believes in alleviating misery, and he would have religion kept in the

background, lest the poor should feel that they are being fed for the

sake of being led to a better life. I do not myself see the objection

to their thinking so. I am by no means sure that they do; but I am

convinced that they look for a motive, and it seems to me better that

they should believe the object of missionary work to be proselyting--I

think that that was the word--than that they should embrace the too

prevalent and most dangerous idea that charity is a bribe from the rich

to keep the poor quiet. There is not a little feeling nowadays that

philanthropy is encouraging socialism. The poor echo incendiary orators

in saying that the rich dole out a little of what they know to belong

to the poor so that they may be allowed to keep the rest unmolested. I

believe that this feeling is a menace to the State, and that

philanthropy which nourishes such a belief is working hand in hand with

treason."

He paused a moment, and there arose a faint murmur. Ashe looked at his

companion, and encountered a glance which seemed to express something

of his own surprise at the boldness of Father Frontford's words. That

the speaker should be uncompromising was to be supposed, but this was

an attitude unexpected and astonishing. One or two men started up as if

to reply, but the Father went on again. His voice was thin and

incisive, with a vibrating quality when it was raised which affected

the nerves. It was easy to dislike his tones, but it was not easy to

resist their influence. He passed to another point, and his words had a

keener emphasis.

"Neither have we escaped the accusation that we use the poor simply as

a means of self-improvement. An old Irish woman in a tumble-down

tenement house once said to me: 'Ye'll have no chance to work out your

salvation doing for me.' I believe that there are many of the poor who

more or less consciously have the same idea. They think that we make

visiting them a sort of penance, and they resent it. I am not sure that

I can find it in my heart to blame them."

"He is either sacrificing himself completely, or making one of those

bold strokes that are irresistible," Ashe whispered to Mrs. Fenton; and

she nodded assent.

"What should be," the speaker proceeded, amid a deep hush which showed

the keen interest which his words had aroused, "is that we should dare

to be consistent. As individuals and as churchmen we should exercise

the virtue of charity, but both as individuals and as churchmen we are

bound to see to it that we make our charity effective for the glory of

God and the salvation of men. There is no stronger instrument in our

hands than philanthropy, and not to utilize it for the good of the

church is to be culpably negligent. I believe that charity should be

the instrument of evangelization. The poor will have a reason for our

interest in them. Let them have this. Let them believe, if they will,

that we purchase their spiritual acquiescence by ministering to their

bodily needs. Certainly I believe that we should limit our work to

those who can be spiritually influenced. There are more of these than

we can at present attend to, and I am in favor of boldly and

consistently taking the position that as administrators of the bounties

of the church we feel bound to use them for the advancement of the

church. To aid the corrupt, the evil, the hardened without any attempt

to draw them into the fold and without any pledge that they will be

influenced, is simply to aid the avowed enemies of religion and to

strengthen their hands against righteousness."

The air of the room was becoming electric. Philip could see the

exchange of glances all around him, some of surprise, some of

consternation, some--or he was deceived--of triumph and scornful

satisfaction. He fancied that he saw Mr. Thurston shoot toward Mr.

Strathmore a flash of gratification, but the face of the latter

remained unmoved and inscrutable. Ashe, full of uneasiness as to the

result of the speech, was greatly excited, but at the same time moved

to profound admiration for its boldness and its consistency. He was in

sympathy with the views expressed, and he was more than ever convinced

that Father Frontford was the only man for the sacred office of bishop.

"Even our Lord," Father Frontford went on, his thin cheeks burning and

his slender frame swayed by the strength of his emotion, "did not many

works in places where he found unbelief. There was no limit to his

power; there was no limit to his mercy. It was out of love for the

whole of mankind that He refused to benefit individuals who would have

hindered the work He came to do. The example is one which we shall do

well to follow. We have more work than we can do in aiding the faithful

and in building up the church. Let us accept the name of proselyters

which has been contemptuously flung at us, and wear it as our glory. We

are proselyters. We must be proselyters. It is the highest joy and

honor of our lives that we are allowed of heaven to take this work upon

us. God will require it at our hands if we fail in our private

charities, and still more if we fail in the administration of the

revenues of the church to be always ardent, consistent, unwearied

proselyters!"

There was a good deal of applause when the speaker sat down. The

profound earnestness of the man carried the hearers away, at least for

the moment. Ashe saw Thurston look inquiringly at Strathmore, as if to

ask if the latter was not intending to reply, but Strathmore sat silent.

"Don't you suppose Mr. Strathmore means to speak?" Mrs. Fenton

whispered. "He almost always does speak after Father Frontford, and he

has expressed very strong views about the charities."

"I cannot understand why he doesn't speak," Ashe responded. "It may be

he feels that the meeting is not with him, and does not wish to take

the unpopular side."

Several men did speak, however, among them Mr. Candish. Their remarks

were in accord with the views expressed by the Father, yet they somehow

lessened the effect of his words. Put into their plain and sometimes

even awkward language his position seemed unpractical and hopelessly

far from daily life; so that even Ashe, warm partisan as he was, could

not but feel his enthusiasm somewhat chilled. Again he intercepted a

glance between Thurston and his superior. Philip sat with the two men

directly in his range of vision, and could not keep his eyes from

watching them. He recognized that there was danger in the keen, crafty

face of the colleague, thin-lipped and narrow-eyed; he wondered in

troubled fashion how far it was possible that Mr. Strathmore was of the

same nature as his assistant. Ashe was confident that Thurston was a

born intriguer, and he instinctively watched for signs of understanding

between Mr. Strathmore and the other. He could detect nothing of the

sort. The Rev. Rutherford Strathmore bore a countenance as beneficent,

as kindly, as guileless as ever; responding to the challenge of his

colleague's eyes by no evidence of understanding or connivance. It was

not until the talkers ceased and there fell a silence which indicated

that the first force of admiration and enthusiasm had spent itself,

that Strathmore rose.

"No one can possibly disagree with the sentiments which have just been

expressed," he began in his cordial, frank manner. "There is no truth

which we need in these days to keep more constantly before us than the

duty of being always eager for the advancement of the church, and of

employing all means to this end. The question which is of vital

interest is how best to do this. When the caution was given that to the

harmlessness of doves be added the guile of serpents, it might almost

seem as if it was especially intended for our own day and case. There

has certainly never been a time when wisdom was more needed than it is

to-day. The growth of doubt, the overthrow of old traditions, old

beliefs, old forms, in short of all that has been sanctioned by custom

and by time, have gone on in every department of human knowledge and

endeavor. The spirit of the time is restless, progressive, liberal,

even irreverent. The beautiful serenity of the church, its reverent

conservatism, its hallowed enthusiasm, for old ideals, are at variance

with the temper of the century. Since the church is the shrine of truth

it is impossible that it should alter with every shifting of scientific

thought, every alteration in the fashions of human opinion; and we

stand face to face with the trying fact that the age is not in sympathy

with the church."

He paused, looking down as if in thought. Ashe regarded him closely,

much impressed by the apparent spontaneity and candor with which this

was said. The hearers were closely attentive. "The only thing upon

which we seem to have some possible disagreement," continued Mr.

Strathmore, "is in regard to the best method of meeting this want of

sympathy, this feeling which often seems to amount almost to general

indifference. Is it to arouse all the suspicion and opposition

possible? Is it to seem to justify the charges brought against us of

narrowness, of formalism, of repression, and of obstructing the

progress of the race? It does not seem to me that this is the wisest

course. I agree that it is our duty to forward the interests of the

church, and to make our administration of charity a means to this end.

It is certainly a question whether open and avowed proselyting is the

best means. Religion is no more to be bought with a price than is love.

The person who conforms for a soup-ticket or a blanket has simply added

hypocrisy to his other failings, and has moreover gained for the church

that contempt which men always feel for those they have overreached.

The child that goes to Sunday-school for the Christmas tree and the

summer week has learned a lesson in deception which can never be

blotted out. It is of course proper that these means should be used;

but unless it is understood fully and frankly that they are employed

not as a bribe but as a persuasion, not as a price but as a kindness,

the evil that they do is more than any good that it is possible to

bring about through their means. I do not believe that our charities

should be conducted on the basis of bargain and sale; nor do I believe

that they should be put on a sectarian basis at all."

He sat down quietly, with an unimpassioned air which seemed to rebuke

the emotional close of the remarks of Father Frontford. Strathmore

could be emotional and impassioned upon occasion, and this deliberate,

matter-of-fact mien affected Ashe as a calculated stroke of policy.

Philip felt that his leader had suffered a defeat; and he was

profoundly moved by the thought. Other speakers took up the question,

but he paid little heed. He was occupied in speculating how the meeting

would affect the chances of the election. When he was walking home with

Mrs. Fenton after the session was over, he was so absorbed that she

rallied him on his absent-mindedness.

"I was thinking of the discussion," he said. "I am afraid that Father

Frontford injured himself this morning."

"But how noble it was of him to say what he believed in spite of the

chances," she responded. "I was delighted with Mr. Candish for

seconding him as he did."

"Yes," Ashe said, a pang of jealousy piercing him at the mention of Mr.

Candish. "It was fine. What I cannot make out," he added, "is whether

Mr. Strathmore is as simple and candid as he looks. He always seems to

speak sincerely and freely, and yet he somehow contrives never to say

anything that might not have been thought out with the most clever

policy."

"I cannot make out either," returned she. "Mr. Fenton used rather

paradoxically to say that Mr. Strathmore was too frank by half to be

honest."

She sighed as she spoke, and instantly all thought of bishops and

church matters vanished from the mind of Ashe. He became entirely

absorbed in wondering how warm was Mrs. Fenton's affection for her dead

husband and in hating himself for the thought.