Part 13 (1/2)

She wonders why Mr. Hamlyn has confined his protests against _Romanism_ in the guise of _English Churchmans.h.i.+p_ to the London district, and would point out that in her own neighbourhood there is a hot-bed of Ritualism which should be exposed.”

Sam went to the book shelf and took down a Peerage. ”She's the wife of a knight,” he said, ”one of the city knights.”

”Probably very well off,” said Mr. Hamlyn. ”We'll nail her for the Cause! See that the books go off at once, and I'll write her a personal letter during the day.”

He rubbed his hands together with a movement of inexpressible satisfaction. His keen face was lighted up with the pleasures of power and success.

”She's got her own axe to grind,” remarked Sam. ”Had a flare-up with the local parson, I expect.”

”Shouldn't wonder,” replied his father indifferently. ”Here's two p.o.'s, one for seven bob and one for three. From a Wesleyan minister at Camborne in Cornwall. I'll put him down to be written to under the local helpers' scheme. His prayers'll be with us, he says!” Mr. Sam sniffed impatiently as he wrote down the sum in his book.

In a few more minutes, the contributions were all booked up and the Church of England--as represented by these two eminent laymen--was bulwarked against the enemies to the extent of some seventeen pounds.

”Now,” said Mr. Hamlyn, ”let's take the press-cuttings next.” He opened a large envelope.

A day or two before Mr. Hamlyn had varied his pleasant little habit of turning up during the most solemn moments of a church service and brawling until he was ejected with more or less force, being brought up at a police-court a day or two afterwards and paying the fine imposed upon him with a cheque from Miss Pritchett. During the blessing of a new peal of bells in a provincial cathedral, he had risen and read a paper of protest. He had read the paper in a low, hurried voice, and the disturbance had been purely local and attracted but little attention in the huge building. In a moment, almost, the secretary of the Luther League had been conducted to the door of the building by vigilant vergers.

But the commotion in the press next morning had been enormous. Lurid reports of this great protest appeared in leaded type, comment of every kind filled the papers, and their editors were inundated with letters on the subject. As an editor himself, Mr. Hamlyn well understood the interior machinery of a newspaper office, and was perfectly well acquainted with the various methods by which things get into print. He began to examine the cuttings from the weekly papers that Durrant's had sent him.

”All goes on well,” he said at length. ”It really is astonis.h.i.+ng the s.p.a.ce they give us! Who'd have thought it six months ago! Don't they go for the League in some of them! Just listen to this, it's the finish of a column in _Vigilance_:

”'... and I shall therefore await the publication of the promised balance-sheet of this precious ”League” with more than usual interest.

Such an indecent and futile campaign as this deserves to be thoroughly scrutinised.'”

”That's nasty, Pa,” said Sam.

”It don't matter in the least. Our League is perfectly honest and above-board, thank goodness! We shall publish the balance-sheet, of course. We are doing a great and glorious work for Hengland, and the labourer is worthy of his hire. We are perfectly justified in taking our salaries. What does a parson do? And, besides no one reads _Vigilance_ that's likely to give Protestant campaigns a penny. It's a society paper. Religious people don't see it.”

”Quite so. And all the Protestant papers are with us; that's the great thing.”

”Exactly, even the old established evangelical papers like the _Church Recorder_ daren't say anything against us. You see our advertis.e.m.e.nts are worth such a lot to 'em! Half the Low Church papers can't pay their way, the big advertisers won't look at them. All the money goes to the _Church Standard_ and the other Ritualistic rags. The _Standard's_ one of the best paying properties in London. So the Low Church papers _can't_ do without us. Wait a year, Sam, and we'll have our own paper, put in some Fleet Street hack as editor, publish at a separate office, and charge the account what we like for our own articles.”

”Our position is practically una.s.sailable, as far as I can see.”

”It's just that, my boy--as long as people send in the money. But gradually we shall find London getting dry. It's all right now that the boom's on, but the novelty of the thing will wear off after a bit. And what we want is to get ourselves so strong that the League will go on _for ever_! Now, I look on it in this way: Much as I 'ate the Ritualists and love true Henglish Protestantism”--Mr. Hamlyn's face grew full of fervour as he said this--”much as I 'ate Romanising tricks and such, I'm jolly well certain that neither we nor any one else is going to make much difference to them! They're too strong, Sam. You'll find a red-hot Ritualist would give up his arms and legs for his carryings-on.

Ritualism's getting stronger and stronger. _They've got the best men for parsons_, and you see those chaps aren't in it for their own game, as a rule. They live like paupers and give all they've got away. Well, that gives 'em grip.”

”Silly fools,” said Sam contemptuously.

”Poor deluded tools of Rome,” said Mr. Hamlyn, who, now that his great mission was an accomplished fact, was really beginning to believe in it himself. ”Well, my point is this: Ritualism will never stop. It's too well organised, and the clergy are too well educated. And most of 'em are 'cla.s.s' too. It all tells.”

”Well, then, if our efforts aren't going to do any good, in a year or so the public will notice that, and the public will stop subscribing.”

”Not a bit of it, Sam, you don't see as deep as I do. As long as we keep the question prominent, it will be all right. First of all, we shall always get the Nonconformist contribution. In every town, the Nonconformist minister can be trusted to stir up people against a Ritualistic 'priest,' especially if he's vowed to celibacy. Married ones get on better. But what I'm coming to is this: All over Hengland there are parishes where the vicar is more or less of a Romaniser. But he's personally liked, perhaps, or no one makes the protest. But in every parish, experience shows there's two or three prominent folk who hate the vicar. Now, where there's a spark a flame can be got. It's all very well to go and protest in a parish where there's a strong feeling against Ritualism--like St. Elwyn's, for example. But think of the hundreds of parishes where people jog along quite content, not knowing the darkness in which they're groping! Now, we'll stir these places up, we'll raise the flag of the League in places which have been going along quiet and peaceable for years. There won't be a church from which we can't get some people away. The Luther League shall become a household word from John o' Groat's to Land's End.”

”Good scheme, Father, if you can do it. But think of the work, and think of the risks of letting any one else into the League. We might find ourselves in the second place some day.”

”Not at all, Sam. Not as I've worked it out. You ought to know that I never start anything without going careful into the details.”