A REPORT OF PROGRESS.
“May the New Year bring in better times for the people!” This was the
wish of the thousands.
“May the New Year bring in better people for the times!” This was the
wish of the tens.
As is often the case, the tens were more wise than the thousands, for
the times do not make the people, but the people make the times; and if
the makers are good, that which is made is certain to be good also.
That year was a most wonderfully progressive year in England: there had
never been anything like it before. There were forces at work to make it
so, which, though they were as old as Christianity itself, seemed to be
more mighty than ever, and the strongest of them all was love. People
said that there was a revival among the churches, but it resolved itself
into one fact—the members of the churches were honestly trying to love
one another more, not in word, but in deed and in truth.
There was, perhaps, not a town nor a hamlet in which no special effort
was made to place things on a more satisfactory basis than before. It
could not be said that any one man was instrumental in bringing this
about, but Arthur Knight certainly had a large share in it, and an
indication of what was done in one town will show how the whole country
was being affected.
In the fascination of his own personal work among his people, for whom a
strange, strong love was in his heart, he hesitated sometimes as to that
other work which he also loved. Which was his duty—that which lay the
nearest, or that which was the clearest? He had made his resolve: he
would do both. He was young and strong, and he would most gladly yield
his strength, ay, and his life itself, to this service. It is never the
men of leisure who do the great things, it is those who have not an hour
to spare who add new duties to old ones; and Arthur Knight was a man of
singular energy.
Of course, it goes without saying, that he was constantly told that the
time was inopportune for his particular crusade, and that the poverty
and wickedness of the people was not the burning question of the day.
But what he pleaded for was a truce, and that all sorts of hostilities
should cease while the Christian men of England exerted their combined
powers to make England Christian. And the people were much more ready
for this than their leaders were.
As far as he could, therefore, he accepted all invitations, and, thanks
to the newspapers, he always had a good hearing. But it was at
Granchester—a city certain to be at the front in such an enterprise—that
he was made most to rejoice. An invitation was, in the first place, sent
to about two hundred prominent men, irrespective of party or
denomination. Arthur Knight had not spoken to them for ten minutes
before all who were in the room became influenced by that strong and
vivid personality, which was the secret of his power. His heart was on
fire with his subject, and his language was expressive, and as he spoke,
first in indignation, and then in pleading accents, he won over to his
side almost every man who listened. Shortly, he touched upon those
specific evils of the day which were filling men with shame and
indignation; and then, in terse, strong words, he denounced the lethargy
and cowardice of those who allowed these things to exist. He declared
that all things were ready but the Church itself; and in words which
burnt their way into their hearts he called upon his hearers to show
some heroism for Christ, to give up their own ease, to share their
wealth—not always gotten Christianly—with the poor, to be honest in
their payments of wages, to come forth, like St. George of old, and kill
the dragon of indifference, selfishness and wickedness, which was doing
England such deadly wrong.
“We have had such a sublime history,” he said. “We used to grow such
brave and patriotic men! Do we belong to another race than they? Is our
country less dear to our hearts than to theirs? It is such a beautiful
land, ‘a land of hills and valleys, that drink water of the rain of
heaven, a land which the Lord seeketh and careth for, and His eyes are
always upon it from the beginning of the year even unto the end of the
year.’ But in this land—this land of blessing, this little land—and
because it is little so manageable—there are scarcely unchecked powers
of evil lifting their brazen faces to our blue skies and pure air—greed,
cruelty, lust, drunkenness, slavery, hypocrisy, fraud. Do you know that
in this land of ours there are nearly five millions of people in
destitution and misery? But there are more than seven and a half
millions in our Sunday-schools. Of the thirty-six millions who make up
the population of Great Britain and Ireland the churches claim a
constituency of more than half. Indeed, it is said that five-sevenths of
our people profess and call themselves Christians. Then, why, in the
name of all that is sacred and responsible, is it possible for these
things to flourish in our midst? Are we hypocrites, or are we cowards?
All the real strength of the nation is with those who say they are on
the side of the Christ. Most of the power, most of the culture, most of
the intelligence, yes, and most of the money is on this side also. Then
why do we weep and whine over the sin and the misery of the world,
since, if for only one year the spirit of Christ were truly in us, and
we were content with one accord to stand together under the white flag
of Truce, we are well able to bring about that for which we pretend to
long and pray. There are subjects which divide Christendom; let them
wait while you set yourselves to this work. You are not called to
sacrifice any principle, but to adopt a new one—the principle which
keeps the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace. Retain, if you must,
your different forms of church government, but, in the name of Christ,
unless you regard your sect and political party more highly than you
regard Him, put them behind you while you do the work that presses.
Study for a month or two, side by side with the New Testament, the words
of the great teachers specially given to this generation and this
land—Carlyle, Ruskin, Browning, and Tennyson. They tell you how to do
this work, to which they have been urging you with all their powers. We
have had a magnificent inheritance in these teachers, whom God sent to
make us great; and yet so craven are we that we are afraid to use our
power to compel a man to be clean-lipped and moral, and so powerless
that we cannot help him to help himself to be fed and clothed. To-day
there are women and girls drinking themselves drunken by scores in every
town, and selling themselves as if no spark of God were in them; to-day
there are men the personification of cruel brutality and loathesome
vice; there are little children dying for bread, and old people as
wicked as they are wretched; man is hating his brother man, and crushing
him down that he may make money by him, and there is a seething mass of
misery and sin at our very doors. And the saints are folding their hands
and sighing, ‘Oh, Lord! how long!’ Shame, shame, shame! Surely the Lord
sends back the question in indignant answer. How long, indeed, before
those who are sent to the world as He was sent, awaken to a
consciousness of their high calling? Let him that nameth the name of the
Lord depart from iniquity; or if he will not, let him stand aside with
the brand of the hypocrite upon him. Let no one say, Lord, Lord, and do
not the things which He says. Let those who are, on the whole, on the
side of Christ join those who are whole-hearted; let them swell the
numbers of the heroes and heroines, for there are hosts of them. Above
all, let the Church universal come together, and forgetting, at least
for awhile, the dividing lines, swear in the name of Christ to wipe out
the dark red blots that lie upon Christian England. Oh! believe me, we
have been too long and too utterly living for self instead of God. We
have thought that Christianity was a creed only, instead of life and
service. The time is surely come for us to choose sides afresh—and there
are only two sides from which to choose, that of Christ, and that of
unrighteousness. I call upon you to divest yourselves of all
encumbrances. (Think of the man with the muck-rake calling himself a
Christian!) Come and arrange yourselves under the Flag of Truce. Do you
not know yet, after all these years, what our Lord has been teaching all
along, that the world will never believe that God sent Jesus until His
disciples are one? It is the Church, and not the world that hinders the
coming of His Kingdom. But the Church will follow its leading men. Let
the remnant that has not bowed the knee to Baal come forth and lead.”
The address produced a profound impression, and there was a solemn time
of re-dedication of many lives. A subsequent meeting was held, which was
of a very practical character.
“I think I shall speak for many,” said one. “I know that I do for
myself, when I say that it has only been by keeping down the voice of
God’s Spirit within me that I have waited for these words before acting.
I am one of those who thirsted for riches, and got them; but they have
not satisfied me. I for one pledge myself to give all that I have and am
for Christ.”
“And I pledge myself also,” said another. “We must make some change if
we would save our own sons. Many of us are what we are because of the
need to work which was upon us in our youth. But our sons are content
that the work was done for them. Gentlemen, _how are they spending the
wealth which we gained_? I speak to many fathers, who know that the
money which they gave the best years of their life to secure, is nothing
but a curse to their sons. Many of the young men of to-day are too idle
to keep the positions which we have won for them, and are spending what
we have given them, to work their own ruin.”
The speaker’s voice died away in a sob, and everybody understood what
the trouble was which had made him prematurely old and grey.
And then Mr. Felix Stapleton arose, and everybody looked at him with
interest. “I am sorry for the fathers whose sons bring trouble to them,”
he said, “and I am also a little sorry for those whose sons condemn
them. What many a man dreads more than anything in these days, when,
thank God, the boys of England are enlisting by thousands in the army of
the Young Crusaders, is the calm, clear-sighted judgment of his own
children. What would they think of us if they knew all the secrets of
our business transactions? How would they rate our pious talk about
Christian brotherhood if they knew precisely our treatment of those who
work for us? Mr. Knight’s rousing words are like a summons to arms; but
the soldiers in Christ’s army must be men without reproach. And who
among us is? We need grace to be true, and courage to do the right. We
are called to rule the world for the world’s good, and to stem the tide
of sin and misery; but first of all we must rule ourselves, and our
hands can only be strong if they are clean. God pity me; I am speaking
of myself.”
There were a few who looked puzzled when Mr. Stapleton thus concluded
his short address, but his words would have awakened more curiosity at
another time. On the present occasion most men were busily searching
their own hearts, and were, therefore, less disposed to criticise
others.
When he left the hall, Arthur Knight left with him, and the few minutes
which they spent together in conversation helped Stapleton at this
turning-point in his life to take the right course.
“Let us concentrate our thoughts upon two points,” said another speaker.
“What ought to be done, and how shall we do it? We must not infringe
upon the liberty of the subject—no Englishman will stand that; neither
must we constitute ourselves a company of private detectives. But every
man must bring his personal knowledge of the world of human nature to
bear upon any new work which he may undertake. We all believe that the
best way to aid men is to help them to help themselves. This cannot be
done in the mass, but by one individual influencing another. Before we
go farther, let us resolve upon this one thing—_let none of us become
beggars for money_; there has been far too much of that already. _Let us
use the means that we have for the development of our own idea._ And let
us each begin at home. Let every man amongst us who is an employer of
labour ask himself whether he is fair and honest in the matter of wages.
Is there any man, woman, or child working for us at starvation prices?
If so, our first duty is to remedy that. No Christian man who is making
money can grind down his servants—no matter how unskilled may be their
work, nor how overstocked the market—without disgracing his religion.
Some of us have done this without knowing it, because we let all these
things be settled by middlemen; but the responsibility is ours, and this
ought to be seen to first.”
Another speaker said: “Every church or chapel must be the centre of all
sorts of helpful ministries for the poor who are around us. There is a
great outcry because some of us have moved away into the suburbs; but
_the people_ are around these buildings in large numbers. Let us use
some of these places every day for the social work of the churches. Many
of us are looking out for good investments. Cannot we find our
opportunity here? I will take or buy one of the cottages in the street
nearest my own chapel, and make a workshop for the unemployed of the
bottom story, and an evening recreation room of the top. At the chapel
we have particularly good arrangements for teas; I will see if we cannot
provide cheap and good dinners for the people there. We must care more
for the people and less for the buildings.”
It will be seen how ready for immediate action these men were, and
indeed the need was then very pressing, both at Granchester and
everywhere else, for the winter had brought more than the usual misery.
In some towns there was formed what was called “The Committee of
Helpfulness,” and it had abundant work on its hands. An account of one
will serve for all. Anything and everything that love and thought could
do was to be done; but the main idea and aim before it was to secure the
young. The members of the committee could themselves only feel their way
to the full development of the new ministry, and they called for
volunteers.
“We will begin with the smallest,” said a lady. “I will belong to the
Needlework Guild, because there is nothing else I can do. There are poor
women in the parish who are overworked with their large families, and
who will feel it a very neighbourly thing if we send strong shirts for
the boys and dresses for the girls. I will try and enlist others who,
like myself, have been do-nothings; and we will utilise such odds and
ends of materials as we can find in our own houses, or that may be given
to us. If we have more than we need, we will send some to London. Many
children would attend both the Sunday and day school more regularly but
for the difficulty of dress. This is only a little thing; but it will be
a relief to some of the mothers, which they will greatly appreciate.”
“I ask to be put upon the committee of the Neighbours’ Union,” said
another member of the conference—a man of fair means. “There are old
persons and poor widows who have appealed to our Poor Law Guardians in
vain. They, in order to keep down the rates, and to stamp out pauperism,
refuse outdoor relief, and offer the hospitality of the union workhouse.
But we can do better than that. Every parish is probably able to take
care of its very poor, and also to become sufficiently acquainted with
the people to know who could be wisely helped, and who ought not to be
helped at all. Certainly we can undertake this. In twenty or thirty
years’ time there may be some national system of insurance against
sickness and old age; but we need not wait for that. The strong and the
active will have to help the sick and the old. We have been doing it all
along. Only now, let it be understood, that the Neighbours’ Union exists
in obedience to the example of the Good Samaritan. It has been a
disgrace to the church organisations of any place, where life has been
rendered miserable, through poverty, to the sick and the old.”
“I ask to be allowed to work at the other extreme of our social life,”
said a young man, “and be on the Children’s Play Committee. We ought to
have every child of the parish in one or other of our Sunday-schools.
There are some who are not, but I think we shall find no difficulty in
getting every child into our play-places. First of all, we must see that
they have good times; and, secondly, we must, while giving them the
utmost liberty, endeavour to influence them. And we must not rest until
we get all our lads enrolled among the Boy Crusaders.”
In this way, and others, the idea of brotherly kindness was spreading;
indeed, there was scarcely a church or chapel in connection with which
there was not some new activity; and, what was better still, that New
Year’s Day was, by common consent, devoted to self-examination on the
part of those who professed to be the servants and followers of Jesus
Christ; and not only where men and women were assembled together, but in
the quietude of their own rooms thousands were asking and answering, as
in the presence of God, the question which had haunted Dr. Stapleton,
“Am I a Christian?”
For the Doctor himself the answer had been found by many people in
Scourby, who had decided in the negative. He was so woefully altered, he
looked so miserable and ill, he had aged so greatly in a few months, he
was so utterly unlike his former self, that, forgetful of the charity
which thinketh no evil, some who had been his friends had convinced
themselves that only a guilty conscience could account for the change in
him, and had treated him accordingly.
Quite how the scandal grew no one could tell; but Stapleton had the
bitterness of knowing himself entirely unpopular and disregarded. Ladies
passed him in the public ways without recognition. Men, if they saw him
coming, turned into side streets; and things came to such a pass with
him that at last he wondered if he had a real and staunch friend left in
the town where, less than a year ago, he could have counted them by
hundreds.
The people of Scourby were feeling bad-tempered with everything and
every one, because they considered themselves disgraced. The example set
by the town had been followed in other places, and Mr. Richard Lavender
had three men likeminded with himself to keep him in countenance, since
they also had been sent to Westminster, not as either Conservatives or
Liberals, but, as they themselves said, as Anarchists, and in opposition
to Religion and Respectability.
These four men unwittingly did more for their country than they
intended.
At Scourby there was much bickering between Churchmen and Dissenters,
who each blamed the other for what had happened. But they were united in
declaring that something must be done, so that at the next general
election that which was intolerable to them should be avoided.
Mr. Whitwell came to the rescue. It occurred to him that this might be
an opportunity for a common ground of meeting between all sections of
the Church of Scourby. He, therefore, called on the Nonconformist
ministers and the clergymen, and succeeded in getting from them a
promise that for once they would sink their differences, and meet
together in the interests of the town. What he had to go through that
day, what arguments he found it necessary to use before he could
accomplish his object, he never told any one; but his favourite daughter
guessed it when he threw himself into a chair on his return, and said,
“Tom, play me something soothing, for I have never had such a day’s work
in my life.”
Tom was an excellent musician, and knew well what her father liked, so
she gave him one exquisite strain after another until at last he was
ready to talk. “The ministers of Scourby,” he said, “have agreed to call
their people together to consider the present crisis, and to suggest
plans. First of all they are to have a meeting among themselves. The
vicar of the parish church wanted it in his schoolroom, but the
Congregational minister objected; he said his people would not go to the
church school, they would not trust the vicar enough for that, and he
suggested his own schoolroom. The vicar did not think his people would
go there, and eventually it was settled to have the preliminary meeting
here, so you and I are to drive into Scourby to-morrow, and fetch them
all to luncheon.”
“Hornby Hall is acknowledged to be neutral ground, then? How glad I am.
Will the parsons let me be present at the meeting?”
“I wish they would. I believe you could make a very good speech on
Christian union, Tom.”
It is gratefully recorded, as one of the most hopeful signs of the
times, that this meeting of ministers was a success. For two whole hours
they elected to believe in one another, and each man endeavoured, to the
best of his ability, to give his brother ministers, whether of the
Episcopal or the Free Churches, credit for being actuated by the same
high motives as those which governed himself. They did not, therefore—as
they so easily might have done—frustrate the endeavours of the
layman-peacemaker, but loyally seconded them.
Mr. Whitwell, as the host, was also the president. He proposed, after
luncheon, that they should open their conference by prayer, and called
upon a young Primitive Methodist minister to lead them. This gave the
right tone to the conversation, and a few words from Mr. Whitwell,
expressing the hope that there would be a concerted action on the part
of the Church to wipe out the stain which had been put upon the town,
were well received. Then the vicar proposed that a meeting of Christian
townsmen should be called to arrange some method of procedure. This was
seconded by the Wesleyan superintendent, and cordially carried. They
then proceeded to details, first settling upon the place of meeting, and
then upon the speakers. There were in all fourteen buildings in Scourby
erected for the worship of God, and in the name of Him whose great wish
for His disciples was that they might all be one; but it was decided
that neither of these would serve their purpose, it was safer to hold
the meeting in the town hall. It was to be called by letter, which each
man undertook to send to the members of his own church. Mr. Whitwell was
to preside over that meeting also, and the least political of the
ministers was to move a resolution of regret at what had occurred, and
determination to prevent a repetition of it.
A large number of men responded to the invitation; many who took no
active part in politics feeling that they ought to be present on this
occasion. After the chief speeches had been made, the meeting was thrown
open for discussion, and it was at this juncture that some of the most
forcible words were uttered. Each speaker was allowed five minutes; and
several crisp little addresses were worthy of being remembered.
“Sir,” said one, “let us petition Parliament to declare the election
void, because it is an insult to our Lord more than to us. And yet I
think it would not have happened if we had not been caught napping. Here
are all our ministers sitting on the platform together. How is it that
such a sight in Scourby was never witnessed before in the memory of
living man? If, as soon as the vacancy occurred, you gentlemen had
called us together, there might now be representing us in Parliament a
man of whom we might all be proud, instead of one of whom we are all
ashamed. Gentlemen, are you not supposed to be our leaders? Why, then,
did you leave us to ourselves in the late emergency?”
“What we have always wanted is union,” said another. “The time has
surely come for it now. There are plenty of other men like Mr. Lavender,
ready to declare themselves haters of what we love. I hope other towns
will profit by our mistake. This is a meeting to be thankful for. We are
forgetting, for this one night, whether we are Radicals or
Conservatives, and only remembering that we are Christians. For God’s
sake, let us work shoulder to shoulder in the future.”
John Dallington had invited Arthur Knight to come down and speak at that
meeting; and though he only had five minutes, he managed to make one of
his characteristic speeches. “Why,” he asked pertinently, “did the men
of this town believe in Richard Lavender instead of in you? Is the
British working man a fool, that he does not know his friends? What have
you, the representative Christian men of Scourby, called to be rulers of
men for their good, been doing that this thing should have happened to
you?”
Mr. Whitwell was so delighted with Arthur Knight that he told his nephew
he must have him for his guest. “Come, too, John,” he said, “and let us
talk these things over. My wife and daughters will be glad to make your
acquaintance, Mr. Knight. Here is the youngest. Tom! Let me introduce
you to each other. Mr. Knight, of London—Miss Grace Thomasine Whitwell.”
Tom blushed vividly; and as for Arthur Knight, he was so astonished that
he did not know what to say, for he suddenly became conscious that he
was looking into the bright face of the lady whom he longed to know, and
holding the hand that had rendered such kind service to some of his
people. He was going to exclaim, but Tom greeted him as a stranger, and
though her eyes were sparkling with fun, they said, as plainly as any
words could have done, “Do not dare to say that we have met before!”