Robert Orange
him. Because--in spite of himself--he must disappoint every one. He is
not a deliberate traitor--but a born one."
As Sara spoke the double doors were thrown open.
Lord Reckage was announced.
"Beauclerk!" she exclaimed.
His lordship, self-absorbed, did not perceive her confusion--which she
was too young to dissemble perfectly.
"The man told me that you were here," he said, addressing Orange and
seating himself by Sara. "I call this luck--finding you both together. I
have just been with my Committee. They always expect the worst of me
now, and they are always cheerful in the expectation."
Sara began to disentangle some silk fringe on her skirt; she did not
look up, and she offered no comment.
"What is the matter now?" asked Robert.
"They want to get rid of me. You see, one might practise very
considerably on the credulity of the members if one chose, and these
fellows on the Executive wish me to take a cautious line with regard to
Dr. Temple's nomination.[Footnote: Mr. Gladstone's nomination of Dr.
Temple to the See of Exeter.] It is all very well for Pusey to write,
'Do you prefer your party to Almighty God and to the souls of men?' But,
as Aumerle says, Pusey is not in the House of Commons. An attack on
Temple will be highly unpopular. We have sounded opinion in various
quarters, and we receive the unanimous reply--'Have nothing to do with
it.' There is a feeling in the clubs, too, that vapid, colourless
orthodoxy is not wanted in England. Healthy disagreement within limits
suits us. The question is, then: Ought I to go against this strong tide
and get myself disliked?"
"Yes," said Sara at once.
"You think so?"
"Beyond a doubt."
"Of course," said his lordship, readily enough, "a combination in
defence of any article of the faith is a noble thing. My original idea
was to get up a combination of High and Low and Broad Churchmen, and
make a stand on purely legal grounds. For instance, how can the bishops,
_without previous explanation_, consecrate one lying under the censure
of their House? That is all. There is nothing offensive in that. We
merely ask for an explanation: we offer no judgment: we state no
prejudice. If Dr. Temple intends to withdraw his paper from _Essays and
Reviews_--well and good. Personally, he bears the highest character. He
would be, in many ways, an acquisition to the Church. But does he
himself believe in the Church as a Divine institution--mark you, a
_Divine_ institution? Neither the _Outs_ nor the _Ins_, I should think,
could object to this question. Aumerle and the Executive, however, are
dead against any proceedings at all. They think we ought to give our
Association a more secular character. They say we are hampered by too
vehement a religious tone. They say that broad Christian principles are
more workable. Besides, the word Christian always attracts the
Nonconformists in spite of themselves. They are bound to support you if
you stick to the line of a believer in Christ--irrespective of
particular doctrines. And so on and so on. I prefer something more hard
and fast myself. Yet they may be right. One must go with the times."
He shifted his chair several times during this speech, looking first at
Orange and then at Sara for encouragement.
"Your Executive are poor creatures," said Sara, with a curling lip;
"your weak theologians have become flabby politicians--their one rule of
action is to avoid everything which demands even the possibility of
self-sacrifice or adverse criticism."
"That is most unfair," said Reckage hotly. "One must see where one is
going."
"The world," said Sara, "in the long run, despises those who pander to
it."
"Yes, but it is in the _long_ run, and no mistake! What a fellow you
are, Robert! Why don't you suggest something? Are you trying to find the
civilest thing you can say of the performance?"
"It is the system which you must attack in the present difficulty. The
system is at fault--not Dr. Temple," said Robert.
"No other system can be now looked to as a substitute," answered Reckage
impatiently. "The thing cannot be done away now, the danger is too
near."
"Exactly. The English can never deal with systems or ideas. They can
only attack individuals--you depend in a crisis on the passions of men,
never on their reason. Whereas if you overhauled their reason, worked
it, and trained it, the passions, at the critical moment, would be
roused with better effect, and would be properly organised. Organised
passions are what you need for a strong public movement. Whirling
emotions in contrary currents are utterly futile."
"I daresay. I hoped we might make such efforts as to fix a lasting
impression on both Houses that the State appointment of bishops, coupled
with the farce of a _conge d'elire_, is rank blasphemy. This outrage on
good taste ought to occupy the attention of every man. It is quite
enough to fill the minds of all."
"It won't," said Robert. "You must remember that whatever strikes the
mind of an average man, as the result of his own observation and
discovery, makes always the strongest impression upon him. Now the
average man is not engaged in studying Church government. He will not
thank you for calling his attention to it."
"Then what do you want Beauclerk to do?" asked Sara.
"He must fight just the same, of course. I merely wish him to see what
he has to encounter. By dragging the clergy into the movement you make
it savour--to the popular intelligence--of professional jealousy. By
making Dr. Temple your example, you render those who respect his
character powerless to express their opinion. Given the system, he is
unquestionably the fittest man to profit by it."
Reckage took many turns round the room.
"The personal character of Dean Ethbin," he said, at last, "is not
exactly square. He acts a trimming part. But now and again he sums up a
situation. He says that the English people do not choose to keep up an
Established Church which shall be independent of its Sovereign and
Legislature. I have seen most of the bishops and archdeacons. They are
against Temple; they say very little about the system. Even men with
nothing to gain by it," he added, ingenuously, "don't appear to
criticise it."
"For all that, the Church must deliver her conscience at whatever risk.
She ought to assert her will--even against her interest--in order to
show England that she is her own mistress!"
"You mean that ironically! What does for Rome, however, doesn't do for
us. The Church of England is It--not She--to most people. As for Rome,
nothing in her belongs to humanity, except the Vatican discipline--the
life of which, I confess, is a permanent miracle!"
"My best friends," entreated Sara gaily, "do not--do not fight. Be nice
to each other and listen to me. The English never read history. Why not
get up a kind of Historical Commission and examine the validity of the
Anglican Orders? There you can work at the roots of things. After that,
introduce a Bill for the admission of clergymen to Parliament. You have
spiritual peers, why not spiritual Commons?"
"One at a time," said Reckage; "what ideas you have! Say them again. I
believe they are not half bad. But do go more slowly."
Sara, with a becoming instinct of meekness, took her favourite seat on
the fender, and at the feet of the two men, looking up humbly, began to
explain herself with that lightness of phrase only possible to those
who have a profound knowledge of their subject. Her submissive attitude,
her soft, musical voice, and her docile expression made both men
insensible to the actual commands insinuated into the emotional wit and
acute arguments of her little speech. Reckage was fascinated. He sat
there drinking in her beauty and wisdom--the one stimulated his senses,
the other pierced his intelligence, making him feel that, with such a
companion ever by his side, he might achieve heroism with a good
conscience. As matters were, he was often dissatisfied, sleepless, and
oppressed--particularly under praise. He was not often set right, as he
would have said it, in his own opinion--even when the world and his
Executive Committee were disposed to cry out--"Well done."
"I didn't run within pounds of my form," was the cry of self-reproach he
invariably heard above the applause of his colleagues or the
commendation of the Press. Sara, he believed, would give him the courage
of his own better nature. These thoughts were passing rosily in his
heart, when Lord Garrow, accompanied by Agnes Carillon, entered the
room.
"My love," said Lord Garrow to Sara, "I met Miss Carillon on the steps
of the London Library, and I have brought her in to tea. But why do you
sit in the firelight? Why haven't they lit the gas? And who is here?"
A sudden flame from the grate illuminated the faces of Orange and Lord
Reckage. The two ladies greeted each other. All spoke, and then all were
silent. It was an awkward meeting for every one present. Lord Garrow
rang the bell, and the small company sat there without a word, watching
the footman light the gas in the glass chandelier.
"What do you suppose we have been talking about?" asked Sara
desperately.
"I can't imagine, my dear," said her father. "I am far too cross. I hate
these odd ways."
"We were discussing the validity of Anglican Orders."
"God bless my soul!" exclaimed his lordship; "what next?"
Agnes, who was looking pale and worried, frowned with displeasure.
"But how disloyal!" she said severely. "As if one could even discuss
such a question!"
"Mr. Orange is a Roman Catholic," answered Sara, "so he is not disloyal.
I am nothing--so I have no obligations. Lord Reckage is in public life
and has to meet the problems of the age. Don't be narrow, dear Agnes."
"I think it too bad, all the same," replied Miss Carillon--"even in fun.
I am sure I am right."
Lord Reckage tried to conceal his annoyance, but his voice shook a
little as he said--
"We were not joking. New men will come in, not improbably with new
ideas. I must be ready for them. An ignorance of men's moods is fatal."
He hoped she would take this warning to herself. She was, however, too
stirred to consider anything except the cause of their common agitation.
"Dr. Benson was saying to papa only last week," she answered, "that
there is no apparent recognition of the Divine presence in our daily
affairs. It is most shocking."
"The clergy are doing their level best, by bigotry, to make Benson's
assertion true. At any rate, I am not going about, as the French put it,
with my paws in the air. I feel strongly tempted to throw up my present
line, and give the whole Association to the best qualified hypocrite of
my acquaintance."
"The sure way out of that temptation is not to think yourself exposed to
it," said Robert quickly.
"I hate sophistries," said Agnes, tightening her lips. "And I hope,
Beauclerk, that you will never remain in any painful situation against
your will."
These words seemed to bear an ominous significance. Agnes herself,
having uttered them, received one of those sudden inward illuminations
which, in some natures, amount to second-sight. But she was
unimaginative and not especially observant, sensitive, or skilled in
discerning the signs of any psychological disturbance. She felt only, on
this occasion, that a crisis had been reached, that Reckage was vexed
with himself, with her, with life generally. She had a letter in her
pocket from David Rennes--a beautiful, touching letter, full of longing
for a faith, a hope--love, he said, he possessed, alas! What a
difference in the two men!
"You don't understand," said Sara. "You are right because you haven't
heard enough. Mr. Orange is going to give a lecture on Church History,
and Lord Reckage has promised to be chairman. They will hold the meeting