La
 
 STEPHEN REMARX
 
 By the same Authoi 
 
 CHRIST and SOCIAL REFORM. 
 
 §ln JVppral to Sltorking Men. 
 id., or iod. a do^eu. 
 
 "Mr. Adder'ey's little pamphlet is most clearly 
 written, and contains a great deal of true teaching 
 very useful at the present day." — Spectator. 
 
 Published by Society for Promoting Christian 
 Knowledge, London. 
 
 GOODWILL. 
 gt Jtmtthljg iH-.tg.uinc fov the people. 
 
 (Edited by JAMES ADDERI.EV.) 
 is. 6d. a year (post free). 
 
 Published at 128, Edgware Road, London, \V.
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 THE STORY OF A VENTURE 
 IN ETHICS 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES ADDERLEY 
 
 TTOpCI 0CW ITCII'Ta dvViXT('t e<TTi 
 
 FOURTH EDITIOX 
 
 LONDON- 
 EDWARD ARNOLD 
 37 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND 
 Publisher to the Inbtn Office 
 
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 PR 
 
 - 5s 
 / & °>+ 
 
 PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION 
 
 The almost unanimous approval with which 
 the reviewers have greeted this little book 
 assures me that the subject with which it 
 deals is one to which the earnest attention of 
 Christians is being increasingly drawn, viz., 
 " How to apply Religion to all departments 
 of human life." But I should like it to be 
 understood that I in no way claim to have 
 discovered a panacea for social evils, or, in- 
 deed, to suggest any new solution of the 
 pressing problems of the day. The book aims 
 at nothing more than the quickening of the 
 conscience of Christians, that they may be 
 so convinced of the necessity of, somehow or 
 other, applying their religion to their ordinary 
 life as to wish to set to work at once, earnestly, 
 to overcome the difficulties, which undeniably 
 present themselves to anyone who attempts 
 the task. 
 
 It is becoming more and more difficult for 
 Christians to rest content with the mere 
 assertion of principles. The day of con- 
 ventional platitudes and superficial pulpit 
 
 r~A OQ**
 
 PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION 
 
 denunciations is almost past, and there is a 
 refreshing demand for practical Christianity. 
 The author ventures humbly to suggest that 
 it is by the Facts of the ancient Creed, and 
 with the machinery of the ancient Church, 
 that this demand can best be satisfied, and 
 this book aspires to take its part in lifting up 
 Christ before men as the only True Social 
 Reformer, the One to Whom, in the midst of 
 our present social and industrial perplexities, 
 we may look with confidence, as most cer- 
 tainly able and willing to unravel the tangle, 
 and to set us free to develop a happy, orderly, 
 national life. 
 
 For a scientific attempt to face one mobt 
 important part of the question treated of in 
 this book, I would strongly recommend 
 people to read Mr. Carter's pamphlet, entitled 
 " Commercial Morality " (Rivingtons). 
 
 As several persons have asked if there is 
 any prospect of the realization of the ideal 
 described in the latter part of this story, I 
 take this opportunity of replying that I have 
 good reason for believing that there is. 
 
 JAMES G. ADDERLEY. 
 
 November, 1893.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Chap. 
 
 
 
 
 Page 
 
 I. Stephen 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 II. Hoxton 
 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 III. A Lcctuve 
 
 
 
 
 21 
 
 IV. Westward Ho! 
 
 
 
 
 33 
 
 V. The Docker 
 
 
 
 
 46 
 
 VI. In the Wilderness 
 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 VII. Conversion 
 
 
 
 
 66 
 
 VIII. In Excelsis 
 
 
 
 
 73 
 
 IX. The Venture 
 
 
 
 96 
 
 X. Some Pastoral Epistles 
 
 
 
 in 
 
 XI. Progress . 
 
 
 
 116 
 
 XII. Judgment. 
 
 
 
 129 
 
 XIII. On the Feast of Step 
 
 hen 
 
 
 
 140
 
 This book can also be obtained elegantly bound 
 gilt toJ>, price $s. 6d.
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 I 
 
 STEPHEN 
 
 Stephen Remarx was an orphan, the son 
 of the late Lord Remarx of Balustrade 
 Abbey in Surrey. His brother, Lord 
 Remarx, had passed into another sphere, 
 where the wicked do not cease from 
 troubling and the weary are not at rest ; 
 he had, in fact, "gone to the bad." 
 Gambling had done it. The estate was 
 ruined, his wife had left him, his three 
 boys had gone away from home, the 
 eldest to Manitoba, the second to Madras 
 and the youngest— well, nobody knew of 
 his whereabouts. He was last seen, when 
 he was "sacked" from Eton for catapult- 
 ing a master's wife on her way to chapel. 
 Lord Remarx spent a good deal of his
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 time at Monte Carlo, but occasionally came 
 to London to vote for the Deceased Wife's 
 Sister's Bill or to have a tooth out. But 
 he never came to his brother's church, the 
 fashionable Church of St. Mark and the 
 Angels, Chelsea. This was not surprising, 
 for the two brothers were quite different 
 from one another. 
 
 In the old days at Balustrade when 
 boys they had never agreed. Stephen was 
 for ever reading books, while his brother 
 was bird's-nesting. On a Sunday afternoon, 
 while the elder son was smoking in the 
 hayloft, Stephen would love to sit in the 
 garden with his mother, and listen to her 
 while she taught him the Catechism in her 
 old-fashioned way. " Who are my betters? " 
 the boy would ask. " Well, my dear," the 
 Countess would reply, " you have not many 
 of them, thot pa r *" of the Catechism is 
 written for the lower orders : in fact, you 
 are yourself a 'better' and they must 
 order themselves lowly and reverently to 
 you." " I see," said Stephen, though he felt 
 somehow that, his mother was wrong.
 
 STEPHEN 
 
 Not long after this his parents died, 
 and he was left very much to himself, his 
 old guardian and uncle, the Marquis of St. 
 Alphege, having a theory that the more you 
 interfered with a boy the worse he became* 
 If this theory were correct, the young Earl 
 Remarx would have been a terrible villain, 
 if the Marquis had paid any attention to 
 his education. As it was he went quite fast 
 enough on the downward path. At twenty- 
 one he married an actress from the Jollity 
 Theatre, whose chief accomplishment was 
 a peculiar twist of her ankles in the dance 
 between the verses of a comic song; at 
 twenty-four he had nearly been put into 
 prison at Bordeaux for stealing somebody's 
 pearl studs ; and at twenty-six he had run 
 through so much money, that her ladyship 
 thought he was not worth hanging on to, and 
 so went back to the Jollity, where she is still 
 performing nightly. Stephen on the other 
 hand went on quietly. At Eton he was 
 chiefly known as a "beastly sap," which 
 translated into more elegant and Christian 
 language means that ha tried to construe
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 his Homer without the aid of a translation, 
 and to gather a little of the knowledge and 
 training which a Public School is in theory 
 supposed to supply. He was a good 
 cricketer, and would have been in the 
 eleven had he not foolishly persisted in 
 reading for a Scholarship in the summer 
 half. He was also partially disabled by a 
 sprain, caused in carrying home the Cap- 
 tain of the Boats drunk on the Fourth of 
 June. If it were asked what good did 
 Eton do to him, the answer would be 
 found in that peculiar charm of real 
 gentility and in that high sense of honour 
 which characterized him all through his 
 
 life. 
 
 Oxford was, however, a more congenial 
 sphere for Stephen Remarx. He made there 
 the acquaintance of several first-rate men 
 Df a lower class. Most of them had been 
 educated at country Grammar Schools, but 
 they had the manners of gentlemen all the 
 same. They thought it a good thing to read 
 hard and to row hard, and somehow they 
 had a \eiy nappy time. It is true they 
 
 4
 
 STEPHEN 
 
 scarcely ever went to wines, and never let off 
 fireworks under the Dean's nose, nor broke 
 the Chapel windows, nor ducked the porter 
 in the fountain ; but, nevertheless, they 
 appeared to be quite as well bred as the 
 Duke of Lundy's two sons, or the young 
 Marquis of Lindisfarne who did all these 
 things regularly every term. Stephen was 
 also a favourite with many of the tutors 
 and senior men. He was a particular 
 friend of Frederick Hope, whose theological 
 lectures created so deep an impression on 
 the Oxford of that time. But it was not 
 at the lectures chiefly that Stephen got at 
 the mind of this remarkable clergyman. 
 It was in the quiet talks they had together 
 at night in Hope's rooms. Then it was, 
 that as Hope murmured on over the fire 
 for hours together of religion and social 
 problems, there grew up in Stephen's mind 
 an ideal, the realisation of which has caused 
 this story to be written. 
 
 In later times, when Stephen became a 
 much talked of man, he would always say 
 to young men who came and spoke to him : 
 
 5
 
 STEPHEN REMARK 
 
 " I should never have done what I have 
 done nor been what I have been if it had 
 not been for Frederick Hope. It was he 
 who opened my eyes, it was he who made 
 me first wonder whether God really meant 
 great crowds of men to live in poverty and 
 overwork, while many live in luxury and 
 idleness upon the labours of the rest : it was 
 he who made me look round about me at the 
 undergraduates of my College, rich young 
 men wasting their time, throwing away the 
 priceless opportunities of Oxford, which 
 many poor men would give their very eyes to 
 have, but which are denied them, because, 
 forsooth, they have not enough money to 
 pay for a university career : aye, and it was 
 he," Stephen would say, " who pointed me 
 to the One True Liberator, who made me 
 feel certain that if ever a brighter day 
 should come for England, and if ever a way 
 out of the darkness should be found, it 
 would be through Christ."
 
 II 
 
 HOXTON 
 
 Stephen was ordained by the Bishop of 
 London, and received a title from the Rev. 
 David Bloose, D.D., Vicar of St. Titus, 
 Hoxton. Dr. Bloose had been a distin- 
 guished person in his day, but his day was 
 now over. He had rowed stroke of his 
 college eight in the year 1854, he had 
 won a Scholarship, he had edited a play 
 of Aristophanes, he had maintained a 
 healthy opposition to all the various 
 theological bugbears of the century, 
 " Essays and Reviews," " Ecce Homo," 
 " Robert Elsmere " and " Lux Mundi : " 
 he believed intensely in himself, wrote 
 various pamphlets which he gave away 
 to his friends and to his housemaid, and 
 belonged to the National Club. His 
 
 7
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 grateful College could hardly have done 
 less than they did, when they appointed 
 this distinguished Son of theirs to the 
 parish of St. Titus, the plum of their East- 
 end patronage with a Church-rate pro- 
 ducing ^£700 a year. Dr Bloose readily 
 exchanged his country vicarage at Slum- 
 berside for this exciting sphere of labour 
 in Hoxton. Not that he had any 
 intention of allowing himself to be 
 excited or to be afflicted with an increase 
 of labour. Labour, indeed ! Why, already 
 he was spending four hours a day in 
 writing books or correcting proofs, two 
 hours were devoted to his sofa, for his 
 doctor had ordered it as necessary for his 
 health, four more hours were for exercise, 
 two for recreative reading, three for meals, 
 and the rest for bed. What more could 
 he do? So he settled himself at the 
 Vicarage" of St. Titus. He had been there 
 twenty years when Stephen was ordained. 
 During that time he had preached some two 
 thousand sermons, and had combated 
 nearly every modern heresy from Agnos- 
 8
 
 HOXTON 
 
 ticism to Theosophy for the edification 
 of the verger, the two pew-openers, fifteen 
 old men and fifteen old women, who, by 
 the charity of Dame Alice Daw, ob. a.d. 
 1764, were given three pence a-piece and 
 a loaf every Sunday morning, and double 
 the amount on Christmas Day. 
 
 He did not visit the sick, because he had 
 a tendency to faint away if the walls of 
 the room, in which he might happen to be, 
 were less than fourteen feet high. He 
 seldom rubbed up against his parishioners, 
 for fear of receiving from them an ad- 
 dition to the liveliness of his person. He 
 had once during a sermon seen what he 
 at first thought was a Protestant miracle : 
 one of the ink-blots on his manuscript 
 began to move across the page as if on 
 legs. Suddenly realising that it was nc 
 blot, but one of those marvels of the 
 Universe which owe more for the pleasure 
 of existence to the carelessness of man 
 than to the care of the Creator, the good 
 Doctor turned a deadly white, and regard- 
 less of the fact that he was in the midst 
 
 9
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 of convincing his little flock of the 
 absurdities of Pantheism, he fled down 
 the pulpit stairs, and gathering up the 
 skirts of his Geneva gown raced down 
 the aisle and into the Vicarage nearly 
 knocking over Mrs. Bloose, who was at 
 that moment triumphantly carrying a pink 
 " shape " into the dining-room which she 
 had been coaxing all the morning to stand 
 up straight in the dish. 
 
 Mrs. Bloose was not a prepossessing 
 personage. She would have made a 
 moderately successful monthly nurse. As 
 the Doctor's wife she was a failure. She 
 could not enter into the subtleties of her 
 husband's sermons. To her it mattered 
 little whether Evolution could be made to 
 square with Christianity or Darwin with 
 Moses. But neither could she take a 
 Mother's Meeting nor keep a servant. 
 Thirty-three cooks had come and gone 
 in twenty years, and now she managed the 
 kitchen herself. The Doctor and the 
 dinner suffered in consequence, but as 
 she remarked to the female pew-opener,
 
 HOXTON 
 
 •'Anything for a quiet life! " In appear- 
 ance, as some one remarked about her 
 once, she gave one the idea of having 
 been lately dragged through a hedge 
 backwards. Of the joys of this world poor 
 Mrs. Bloose knew little. It was therefore 
 an unusual delight to the good lady, when 
 her husband informed her that Stephen 
 was to be the new curate. 
 
 " Fancy a real live lord's son coming to 
 live with us ! I must put up the new blue 
 curtains in his lordship's bedroom, and we 
 must have dinner at eight instead of one." 
 "No, my love," said the Doctor, "we 
 will alter nothing of that kind, because 
 Mr. Remarx is a man of very simple 
 habits, and would like us to go on just as 
 we are. Perhaps, however, Posy and Bob 
 might have their dinners up in the nursery 
 while he is with us, and the tablecloth 
 might be oftener changed. I have noticed 
 that there are a number of mustard stains 
 upon it, and you seem to have forgotten 
 that Bob upset the Harvey's sauce at the 
 north end three weeks ago. Otherwise,
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 my love, let us continue our simple life, 
 even though the Honourable Remarx is 
 coming to stay." 
 
 So the "Honourable Remarx" came. 
 There could hardly have been picked out 
 a curacy more contrary to the tastes of 
 Stephen than this of St. Titus, Hoxton. 
 He came up from Oxford brimming over 
 with social enthusiasm. He had studied 
 Political Economy, he had read all the 
 socialistic literature of the day, and de- 
 voured his Daily Chronicle : he had fre- 
 quented the Pusey House ; he had read 
 both the Booths, the " General " William 
 and the more particular Charles ; he had 
 dived into the Reports and attended 
 the meetings in connection with Oxford 
 House and Toynbee Hall ; he had formed 
 in his mind an idea of East London 
 Church Work very different from that 
 which he found at St. Titus. He had 
 pictured to himself a crowd of eager 
 students flocking to be taught by Dr. 
 Bloose, atheists, agnostics, secularists, ma- 
 terialists, and theosophists, earnestly argu
 
 HOXTON 
 
 ing with the Vicar on religious questions, 
 while his wife dealt out soup and bread to 
 a host of the " submerged tenth." He had 
 hoped to find the Doctor well up in all 
 the industrial problems of the hour, con- 
 sulting with the Union leaders, and offering 
 to arbitrate between employer and em- 
 ployed. He was grievously disappointed. 
 The Doctor, it is true, dealt with the re- 
 ligious difficulties of the day, but only in 
 books and pamphlets which nobody read, 
 or in sermons to which nobody listened. 
 He had never spoken to an East-end 
 atheist in his life. As for educational 
 work, he simply disapproved of it. The 
 Board Schools were to him the especial 
 dwelling-places of Satan, the University 
 Settlements were mistaken attempts to 
 supplant the parochial system; General 
 Booth he considered an impostor, and 
 therefore the " submerged tenth " should 
 2>e left to starve ; while as for the Labour 
 movement, it was a revolution, and ought 
 to be put down by Government. 
 
 A few days after his arrival in Hoxton, 
 
 13
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 Stephen found himself launched into an 
 argument with the Doctor. 
 
 " I suppose you often have Tom Mann 
 and Ben Tillett in here,, don't you ? " said 
 Stephen. 
 
 " Who are they ? " said Mrs. Bloose 
 innocently. 
 
 "My dear," said the Doctor, looking 
 reprovingly at his wife, "go on with your 
 dinner." Then turning to Stephen, he 
 continued, " Mr. Remarx, I am not 
 acquainted with those gentlemen, nor do 
 I want to be; I would as soon admit a 
 convict to my house as them." 
 
 " Oh," said Stephen, " I believe they 
 are most agreeable people : besides, there 
 is surely no better way of studying the 
 social question, than to get to know exactly 
 what the leading men on the labour side 
 think and say." 
 
 "I have no wish to study the labour 
 side, as you call it, at all," replied the 
 Doctor. "I have studied Adam Smith, 
 Mill, and Ricardo. I am quite convinced 
 that the modern attempts which are being 
 
 14
 
 HOXTON 
 
 made by the revolutionary party to raise 
 wages artificially, and to drive capital out 
 of the country, must end in terrible disaster 
 and the ruin of England." 
 
 "But surely, if you think so, Dr. Bloose," 
 said Stephen, " you ought to do something 
 to ward off this awful calamity, and by 
 way of commencement, would it not be a 
 good thing to make quite sure what it is 
 which the ' revolutionary party,' as you 
 call them, really propose to do ? I daresay 
 if you knew some of these bloodthirsty 
 people, you would find them quite harmless 
 and sensible after all." 
 
 " Mr. Remarx," said the Doctor, some- 
 what sternly, " I consider these questions 
 wholly outside a clergyman's sphere of 
 duty. I have other things to do than to 
 be mixing up in all these labour ques- 
 tions." 
 
 " But, Doctor, your work as Vicar of 
 St. Titus lies, surely, does it not, almost 
 entirely among working-people, who are 
 intensely interested in these matters? 
 In fact, to them they are questions of 
 
 is
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 bread and butter, of life or slow death, 
 perhaps." 
 
 The Doctor looked at his curate with a 
 pitying, patronising gaze. "My dear 
 young man, if you had studied these things 
 in books as I have, and had not simply 
 listened to what ignorant people say, you 
 would know that these men might just as 
 well try to fight against the clock, and at- 
 tempt to make the time go backwards, as 
 fight against the laws of Political Economy. 
 If they are to starve, starve they will." 
 
 " And do you think, then," said Stephen, 
 " that the continuation of our present in- 
 dustrial system is likely to result in the 
 practical starvation of many of the poor? " 
 
 "I think it quite likely," said the Doctor, 
 complacently helping himself to a second 
 plate of boiled mutton and capers. 
 
 " And yet, as a minister of Christ, who 
 had compassion on the starving multitude, 
 you think it is outside your sphere of duty 
 to attempt even to learn what proposals 
 are being made to prevent this alarming 
 catastrophe." 
 
 IS
 
 HOXTON 
 
 The Vicar coughed, and Mrs. Bloose, 
 with a tact which she displayed about once 
 in three years, began to talk about the 
 weather. But the good lady's conversa- 
 tional powers were limited, even when 
 devoted to her favourite subject, and at 
 last she ceased. 
 
 Stephen very calmly renewed his ob- 
 servations. " It seems to me," he said, 
 " that we, priests and deacons " 
 
 '•Priests !" said Mrs. Bloose, interrupt- 
 ing him with a look of dismay, " does the 
 Honourable Remarx refer to the Doctor ? 
 Surely, David, you have often told me 
 that there is no priest in the Protestant 
 Church." 
 
 "You are right, my dear," said the 
 Doctor, rather glad than otherwise to 
 change the conversation. "Mr. Remarx 
 has doubtless fallen into the error, so 
 common with the younger clergy, of fancy- 
 ing that the word ' priest ' in our Book of 
 Common Prayer is a translation of the 
 Latin 'sacerdos.' I, of course, having 
 
 studied the subject, know that it is a trans 
 a 17
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 lation of the word 'presbyter,' a very 
 different thing : in fact, the difference is 
 immense." 
 
 "Oh, I don't think that will affect what 
 I was going to say," said the Curate. " I 
 will call them presbyters if you prefer it. 
 I was going to say that, in my opinion, 
 we presbyters and deacons should get a 
 thorough knowledge of these social ques- 
 tions, not only from books, but by living 
 contact with the poor themselves " (the 
 Doctor involuntarily shuddered). "In this 
 way we shall be able to help them more 
 effectually." 
 
 "Our work," said the Doctor, " is sim- 
 ply and solely to preach the Gospel, and 
 I flatter myself I have done so for twenty 
 years in this place." 
 
 "But," said the imperturbable Stephen, 
 '* what is the Gospel ? Good news, isn't 
 it ? Now, what could be better news for 
 these poor people, than to tell them the 
 way out of their troubles ? " 
 
 " You surely don't mean, " said Dr. 
 Bloose, "that you think we ought to get up 
 is
 
 HOXTON 
 
 in the pulpit and preach Socialism ? You 
 don't call that the Gospel, do you ? " 
 
 "No," said Stephen, "not exactly that, 
 but I do think it would be more like the 
 Gospel of our Master, if we were to get up 
 in the pulpit and tell them that so far as 
 they want, to have proper food and decent 
 homes and opportunities of development, 
 they are only desiring what their heavenly 
 Father wants to give them, and that so far 
 as they are being kept from them, it is 
 because of the selfishness of men who will 
 not do God's will on earth, as it is done in 
 heaven. " 
 
 "Then do you mean to say," said the 
 Doctor somewhat alarmed, though not a 
 bit convinced, "that you intend to preach 
 discontent to the people ? " 
 
 "I think," said Stephen, "that there is 
 a Divine discontent that it may be our 
 duty at times to preach, though I confess 
 I would rather preach it in the West than 
 in the East. The rich should be made 
 discontented. God give me the oppor- 
 tunity and courage to do it before I die." 
 
 is
 
 STEPHEN REMARK 
 
 "You have very queer views, young 
 man," said the Vicar, demurely drumming 
 on his plate with the cheese-knife, "very 
 queer views indeed. Where did you pick 
 them up?" 
 
 "I have been reading the Prophets 
 and the Gospels," replied Stephen, thought- 
 fully looking out into the crowded street, 
 " and I have been meditating, that's all." 
 
 20
 
 Ill 
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 It must not be supposed that the old 
 Vicar and his young curate- were for ever 
 quarrelling, or that any serious feud arose 
 between them. The Doctor was an apostle 
 of laissez-faire in parochial as well as in 
 economical matters. He went his way and 
 he let Stephen go his. Occasionally, on a 
 Sunday, he would reprove the young deacon 
 for some of his pulpit utterances, as for 
 example, when he startled the old alms- 
 people by telling them that " to come to 
 Church for what you can get " is an insult 
 to Almighty God, and more likely to land 
 you in hell fire than any amount of honest 
 unbelief," or when he offended the 
 Churchwardens by saying that "the re- 
 spectable Pharisee, who stalks up the 
 
 21
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 Church in black cloth and yellow kid 
 gloves and boxes the children's ears while 
 he is singing " Rock of Ages," is a more 
 offensive sight to God's eyes than the 
 poor lost woman in the street." 
 
 As a rule, however, Stephen was left to 
 himself to think, and read, and watch and 
 wait. He found out more about the 
 condition of St. Titus ' parish in one month, 
 than the Doctor had discovered in twenty 
 years. First of all, he found that it was a 
 hotbed of militant Secularism. While the 
 Vicar was droning away in a black gown 
 on the " Wonders of Creation " to a con- 
 gregation of twenty on a Sunday morning, 
 Mark Smasham was addressing a crowd of 
 four hundred men in the high road, fifty 
 yards from the Church, on the " Contradic- 
 tions of Genesis or the Muddles of Moses." 
 While the Biblewomanwas flattering herself 
 that her Tuesday evening class of fourteen 
 girls was drawing the young women of Hox- 
 ton into the paths of safety, " Mrs. Lucy 
 Grafton, the Peaceful Anarchist," had estab- 
 lished an " Institute for Female Citizens,
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 die membership of which had reached two 
 hundred and fifty in a fortnight. 
 
 While the Verger's wife had fitted up the 
 disused coal-cellar under the Church as a 
 reading-room for working-men, whither her 
 husband and three of his "pals" resorted 
 to play whist on those nights, when they 
 did not care to go to the " Royal Standard," 
 the " Hoxton Progressives " had opened a 
 Club, where some hundreds of the Doctor's 
 flock might be found any evening of the 
 week enjoying themselves. This sort of 
 thing would have broken the heart of any- 
 one less Christian than Stephen Remarx. 
 To find his beloved Church of England so 
 lamentably in the second place was indeed 
 a trial, but he bore ujL and manfully went 
 out to fight for his Master. One thought 
 especially buoyed him up. It was this. 
 He knew from personal experience that 
 such a parish as St. Titus was an exception 
 to the general rule. He knew that in other 
 parts of East London the work of social 
 reformation was being led by faithful 
 Church people. He was a personal friend 
 
 23
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 of the workers at the different University 
 Settlements and College Missions. He 
 knew what they were doing, and he knew of 
 the patient, godly labours of many a parish 
 priest. Moreover, he knew that his cause 
 was right. He believed, with an undying 
 conviction, that what these poor men and 
 women wanted was just that which he had 
 to give, and which though at present they 
 seemed not to care for, they would one day 
 feel the need of, the Power of a strong and 
 living Saviour, the Rule of a liberty-loving 
 King. His method of Church work was 
 peculiar. He studied his Prayer-book, and 
 tried to find out what the mind of the 
 Church of England seemed to be. He 
 would argue thus with himself: "The 
 Church does not seem to me so exclusive 
 as I once thought she was ; she bids me tell 
 every man, woman and child who has been 
 baptized that they helong to Christ ; she 
 seems to picture herself as a great Society 
 co-extensive almost with the Nation, bound 
 by most strict promises to fight for Christ 
 and right. As I look round this parish, I 
 24
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 find very few who appear to be attempting 
 to do this. Of the few who come to 
 Church, only one or two seem to be at 
 all inclined that way. On the other hand, 
 as I look outside at those ' Progressives ' 
 and even at the Secularists, I find a number 
 of men who are striving after something 
 very much more like the Truth. They say 
 that they want to make this world a better 
 place, they say they want all men to be 
 treated justly, they say they hate selfishness 
 and admire self-sacrifice, and they practise 
 it too, they say they want each man to be 
 allowed to develop the life that is in him, 
 to think, to read, to know something of the 
 joy of leisure and home and friends, they 
 say that they admire Christ and wish all 
 were like Him. Yes, this was just exactly 
 what the lecturer said at the Club on the 
 night when I went to listen. And they all 
 applauded him, their faces lit up at the 
 thoughts suggested by him. Then they 
 laughed when they saw me, a clergyman, 
 the minister of Christ. But why did they 
 laugh ? They did not laugh because they 
 
 25
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 thought I looked like Christ. If they had 
 thought that, they would have applauded 
 me, but they laughed because they thought 
 I was not like Him. They muttered : 
 ' Ah ! there's the parson, it's a pity he is 
 not like his Master.' 
 
 "I know what I must try and do. I 
 must insert myself into the social life of 
 this place. I must become a member of 
 these Clubs and Institutes. I must go in 
 and out among them. I must try to 
 draw them to believe that they are the 
 Church. I must show them that, so far as 
 their ideals go, they are right and true ones, 
 because they are the ideals of Christ. 
 
 "But they must learn to know Him better. 
 And how can they know Him unless I, 
 His minister, can show them what He is ? 
 For what else do I exist but to bring men 
 to Christ ? " 
 
 For three years Stephen lived at Hoxton. 
 
 During that time, he certainly succeeded 
 
 in what he called "inserting himself into 
 
 the social life of the place." He became 
 26
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 a well-known character. The old church 
 was full when it was rumoured that " the 
 curate" was going to preach, and the 
 Doctor gradually left off attempting to 
 compete with him. An accommodating 
 physician was found, who discovered that 
 " three weeks at Brighton " were periodi- 
 cally necessary for the life of the Vicar. 
 They were certainly conducive to the life 
 of the parish, for they meant " Mr. 
 Remarx in sole charge," and that meant a 
 lull church and an eager congregation. 
 Then, too, he would go out Sunday after 
 Sunday into the high road and preach after 
 Mark Smasham had finished his orations. 
 It was noticed by many that Mark's meet- 
 ing was not so well attended as in old 
 days. "We like to hear Mr. Stephen," 
 the men would say, <; he's got something to 
 tell us." Frequently, too, the youn^ 
 curate would mount the platform at the 
 " Progressive Club," but he never spoke 
 on a social subject without reminding them 
 of Christ. Thus they got to feel that 
 
 there was a real difference between his 
 
 27
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 lectures, and those which they were accus- 
 tomed to hear from others. Stephen's 
 gave his hearers the impression that, at 
 any rate in his opinion, something more 
 was wanted than material improvement 
 for the masses. 
 
 So genuine was the impression which 
 Stephen was making on the life and 
 thought of the place, that it became 
 necessary for the Secularists to take steps 
 to counteract his influence. A leading 
 lecturer was engaged to speak at the 
 "Institute for Female Citizens," opened 
 " for this occasion only " to reformers of 
 both sexes. As the lecture had a great 
 effect on the mind of Stephen himself, 
 more perhaps than it had on the minds of 
 the remainder of the audience, it has been 
 thought well to give some extracts from it. 
 
 The subject of the lecture was an- 
 nounced thus : " Why we cannot become 
 Christians." The lecturer began with a 
 vigorous description of the aims and 
 objects of social reformers. " There is,' 
 he said, "a social question ; no one except 
 
 20
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 a fool can altogether shut his eyes to what 
 is going on around him. We have certain 
 ghastly facts staring us in the face. There 
 is the ghastly fact of a few men rolling in 
 riches, and absolutely not knowing what to 
 do with their wealth, side by side with a 
 multitude of others so poor that they can- 
 not live a decent life. I am not only allud- 
 ing to the so-called ' submerged ' portion of 
 the community, but I speak of the crowds 
 of men and women with good characters 
 and abilities who are willing to do but 
 unable to get work. We are surrounded in 
 this East-end of ours by people who are 
 slowly dying from insufficient food, who 
 are denied the barest necessities of exist- 
 ence, whose lives are one perpetual yearn} 
 ing after work which seldom comes, who 
 have got no hearts left for pleasure, or 
 study, or any of the possible joys ot 
 humanity. I speak of the men and 
 women, the young lads and girls, who, if 
 they have got work, must be content to 
 accept it in such a form that it is scarcely 
 distinguishable from slavery. Ladies and 
 
 «9
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 gentlemen," continued the lecturer, " none 
 but the careless 'masher,' whose tailor's 
 bill will always be paid by his father if he 
 runs through his allowance, the popular 
 professional lawyer who will never want a 
 brief, the fashionable doctor whose patients 
 are legion, and his fee two guineas, the 
 retired money-grubber, the hereditary 
 millionaire, none but such as these can 
 dare to shut their eyes and say that there 
 is no social question. I need not waste 
 my time in proving it. Even the Bishops 
 believe it." (This he said with a twinkle 
 in his eye and the audience laughed.) 
 
 "Now comes the question: 'Is there 
 no remedy ? ' Well, I am not an extreme 
 man, I am not an optimist, I do not think 
 we shall make things better all in a day ; 
 but I do think we can find out the lines 
 on which we ought to work, I do think 
 that our children's children may enjoy 
 a happier life than we do. 
 
 "We believe that Parliament can dc 
 
 much for us. There are some of our 
 
 laws which want changing. We want more 
 30
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 laws for the benefit of the worker. The 
 capitalist and the landlord have had it all 
 their own way too long. Yes, the Democracy 
 will look after itself. Education will teach 
 us what we have a right to, Science is 
 showing us what we are, and what we are 
 meant to be. We are willing to be helped 
 in our social endeavours by all those who 
 will work for the common good. And this 
 brings me to the subject of my lecture — 
 ' Why we cannot be Christians.' 
 
 " I understand that lately, in this neigh- 
 bourhood, there has been an attempt made 
 by a minister of the Established religion 
 to persuade people that the true panacea 
 for all our social evils is Christianity. I 
 will at once say that, so far as this reverend 
 gentleman will help us to solve the social 
 problem, I am glad to welcome him as a 
 brother, but as regards his panacea, I 
 must say I do not believe in it. 
 
 " I have come here to-night to give you 
 my reasons for not believing in Christian- 
 ity as a social reforming agency at the 
 present juncture. Mark you, I do not 
 
 31
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 intend to-night to question the fact that 
 Christianity has had a certain effect upon 
 the world, though I am prepared to main- 
 tain that civilisation has done much more. 
 I do not deny that there was once a re- 
 markable man called Christ, who said 
 some startling things to which nobody 
 pays any attention now. But I do not 
 believe that we should be any nearer the 
 solution of the social problem if we 
 became Christians. These are my reasons. 
 First, we are in the great difficulty of not 
 exactly knowing what Christianity is. Is 
 it the Christianity of Christ which is iO 
 reform the world, or is it the Christianity 
 of the Middle Ages which is to do it ? Or 
 is it the Christianity of Mr. Spurgeon, or 
 of Mr. Moody, or of Dr. Pusey, or of Dr. 
 Bloose ? Or has this new teacher who 
 has come to live here lately got a new 
 form of Christianity which he alone knows 
 all about? Supposing we all follow him 
 and become Christians, according to his 
 gospel, how are we to know that the Bishop 
 of London will not come down upon us and 
 32
 
 A LECTURR 
 
 say, ' That's not Christianity at all ; you 
 havegot hold of the wrong thing altogether.' 
 
 "But granting that the Christianity 
 which we are asked to accept is the 
 Christianity of Christ pure and simple, 
 I immediately proceed to ask my friend 
 to show us how it's done. I look in 
 vain for the example of a Christ-like 
 Christian. We people down here in East 
 London are looked upon as unchristian, 
 so I will not expect to find what I want 
 here. But I will look at some of these 
 West-end Churches or these Universities, 
 who profess to have got hold of some- 
 thing which they are kind enough to wish 
 to send us down here. If this is not so, 
 why do they establish these Missions and 
 settlements at considerable cost to them- 
 selves ? But where are the poverty and 
 simplicity, where is the hatred of sham 
 and hypocrisy, where is the love of the 
 outcast, which ought surely to be found 
 in the followers of the Carpenter of 
 Nazareth ? 
 
 " I challenge my friend to show me a 
 c 33
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 single man or woman among the fashion- 
 able Church congregations in the West- 
 end, or in the academic circles at Oxford 
 and Cambridge (whence these Missions 
 come), a single man or woman, I say, who 
 is living a life at all like Christ's, or who 
 is even attempting to carry out certain of 
 the commands of their Master which I 
 shall be ready to enumerate if required. 
 Where is there a man, for instance, who 
 has given up all that he possesses for 
 the sake of Christianity ? Where is there a 
 man who has forsaken father and mother 
 and lands for the sake of what Christ calls 
 the Kingdom of Heaven ? No, my friends, 
 we cannot be Christians ! 
 
 " But perhaps my opponent would 
 answer, as in fact I did hear a Bishop 
 say the other day : ' You have no right 
 to argue against Christianity from the 
 failure of Christians. You must show 
 that Christianity itself is a failure.' 
 
 " Very well, I am prepared to maintain 
 that too. First, my friends, consider 
 what it is that Christianity claims to be 
 34
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 able to do. These Christian Socialists 
 tell us that our plans for social reform will 
 fail because we take no account of the 
 moral reformation which is necessary 
 before any change of circumstances will 
 avail. In a word, we must wait till a man 
 is good before we make him com- 
 fortable. Personally, I think it would be 
 better to reverse the process. Let us 
 make him comfortable, give him a decent 
 home, leisure and a moderate wage, and 
 then perhaps he will be good. However, 
 let us examine the Christian argument. 
 They say in effect, ' Give the people to us, 
 we will make them good : if they are. not 
 good, all your social reforms will fail.' 
 Well, now, before we hand over the 
 people to the tender care of Mother 
 Church, my friends, I want to have some 
 guarantee that she is likely to succeed in 
 what she claims to be able to do. I look 
 back into past history, and I do not 
 find that the world progressed more 
 satisfactorily when the Church held full 
 sway over it. I look into recent social 
 
 35
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 history, do I find that reforms have been 
 initiated by the Church ? Not a bit of it. 
 More often than not the Church has op- 
 posed them. What social reforms have my 
 lords, the Bishops, ever proposed ? I might 
 add, ' What have they not opposed ? ' 
 It is true that individual Christians, like 
 Lord Shaftesbury, have done good social 
 work, but he was not the Church. 
 
 " The fact is, my friends, that Christian- 
 ity has had its chance and has missed the 
 mark. We gave it free play once, and it 
 came off blank. Some of us got burnt in 
 the process by this social reforming agency. 
 Are we so very unreasonable if we turn 
 round now and say, 'Never again, my 
 friends ; you have had your opportunity 
 and you have shown that your system is a 
 fraud and a delusion. Henceforth, we 
 turn to other helpers : The State, the 
 Voice of the People, the discoveries of 
 Science. These are our guiding lights. 
 We do not need you!' Don't be taken in, 
 ladies and gentlemen, by the specious 
 proposals of these so-called Christian 
 36
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 Socialists who talk about Christ, the poor 
 working-man, who had not where to lay 
 his head, while they themselves, who 
 claim to represent Him, have never been 
 without a comfortable bed in their lives. 
 Let them show us what He was like, and 
 then, perhaps, we may listen ; but even 
 then the Christianity which they propose 
 for us must be something very different 
 from the Christianity of the past, if it is to 
 solve the problem." 
 
 " He's very wrong and very right," 
 thought Stephen, as he walked back to 
 the Vicarage. "What if, after all, our 
 Missions are wrongly directed ? Ought we 
 to go to the West-end ? But surely our 
 Lord would have us preach to the poor ? 
 Yes, but how can we preach Him until 
 we know Him better? 'Can the blind 
 lead the blind ; shall they not both fall 
 into the ditch ? ' "
 
 IV 
 
 WESTWARD HOt 
 
 The Marquis of St. Alphege possessed no 
 charms of his own. He was ugly, sour, 
 and foul-mouthed. He was a Tory of the 
 old school, and had an apoplectic fit on 
 hearing that a Conservative Government 
 had granted Free Education to the masses. 
 He recovered from the fit, but he would 
 never read the newspaper again, nor go to 
 the House of Lords. His language had 
 always been unparliamentary, his whole life 
 thenceforth became so. The nation, it 
 must be confessed, seemed to have lost 
 little, when this hereditary law-maker 
 ceased to impress the red leather cushions 
 of the Upper House. His lordship had 
 however, other possessions, to wit, a hand- 
 some wife, thirty years younger than him- 
 38
 
 WESTWARD HO! 
 
 self, and a magnificent mansion in Chelsea 
 Square. The Marchioness was a leader 
 in Society ; but, mark you, not of Society. 
 She had a set of her own choosing, and 
 only these ever passed within the portals 
 of Alphege House. 
 
 They were an interesting set : there was 
 a Broad Church Dean, a High Church 
 Canon, the Secretary of an unsectarian 
 Orphanage, and the Actor-Manager of the 
 Grand Theatre; while for ladies, there 
 were the Lady Warden of the Ladies' 
 Settlement in Wapping, the Secretary of 
 the Ladies' League, the Duchess of Lundy 
 and Dr. Frances Deane. Besides these 
 more prominent ones, there were lesser 
 lights, most of them men and women with 
 fads. Her ladyship dearly loved a fad. 
 She would spend hours of an afternoon on 
 her sofa, listening to the latest ideas of 
 the latest faddist, and remarking at inter- 
 vals : " Dear me, how intensely interest- 
 ing. I must introduce you to the Dean ; 
 he will be so charmed with your idea." 
 
 Quite wrongly, though somewhat ex- 
 
 39
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 cusably, the Marchioness reckoned her 
 nephew Stephen among this curious army 
 of fad-mongers. " You ought to know 
 my nephew, Mr. Remarx, he is quite 
 supernaturally clever, he has such original 
 ideas ; though I must confess he wears 
 the most sacrilegious trousers ; I wish he 
 would go to Alfy's tailor in Conduit Street." 
 In spite of his dress, the Marchioness 
 really loved her nephew with all the 
 affection that a shallow nature can bestow. 
 She saw, with the instinct of a fashionable 
 leader, that he was likely to cause a 
 sensation, if cautiously introduced into 
 London society. Her opportunity came 
 when the important living of St. Mark and 
 the Angels fell vacant by the death of Dr. 
 Oldskin. The benefice was in the gift of 
 the Marquis of St. Alphege, the parish 
 being, in fact, almost co-extensive with 
 his property in Chelsea. 
 
 "Alfy, dear," said the Marchioness to 
 her lord at breakfast, " when you have 
 finished your kidneys, will you listen to 
 me?" 
 40
 
 WESTWARD HO! 
 
 " Go on," said the venerable peer. 
 
 " Have you thought of any one for St. 
 Mark's yet, Alfy ? " Her ladyship knew 
 how to manage him. It was her way to 
 make him think he was the master and 
 not she. 
 
 " Yes," said the Marquis, handling a pile 
 of letters. " I have here applications from 
 two hundred and twenty parsons for the 
 place ; everybody seems to want it. One 
 blackguard is certainly more candid than 
 the rest. He says he can't pay his bills, and 
 his wife's a confirmed invalid, and his eldest 
 boy's in debt, and will I help him out of his 
 financial difficulties by making him Vicar 
 of St. Mark's. Upon my honour, I've a 
 good mind to give it him, if only because 
 of such a straightforward declaration of 
 his object. There's another one here I 
 like, who says he's a thorough-going Tory, 
 and thinks the Primrose League much 
 too democratic, and that he has proved 
 beyond question that Babylon in the 
 Apocalypse is a prophecy of the London 
 County Council." The Marquis gobbled 
 
 41
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 a piece of pate de foie gras on toast and 
 stopped. Then the Marchioness began 
 to play her cards. 
 
 " Have you thought of Stephen, in con- 
 nection with the post ? " 
 
 " No, I can't say I have," said his lord- 
 ship, "but he's, very well provided for, 
 isn't he? I never bother myself about 
 him." 
 
 Then out came her ladyship's trumps. 
 She represented that for the honour of 
 the family Stephen ought to be a rector, 
 that it was absurd for an "Honourable" to 
 be a curate in the slums ; that the reports 
 about his being High Church were not 
 well founded ; that he quite believed in 
 the Lincoln Judgment ; that there was 
 no real proof that he was a Radical or a 
 Socialist. The Marchioness very nearly 
 choked when she said this, for it was 
 only three days before, that Stephen had 
 actually advised her to read the " Fabian 
 Essays," and had described to her how he 
 had taken the chair at a "Progressive" 
 meeting in Clerkenwell. 
 42
 
 WESTWARD 110 
 
 " Well, hang it," said the Marquis with 
 a levity scarcely consistent with the 
 sacred duty of appointing a spiritual 
 father for twelve thousand souls, " hang it, 
 I don't care who has the beastly living : 
 all parsons are equally cussed in my eyes, 
 nowadays." The rest of the sentence 
 contained so many bad words that it has 
 been thought better not to reproduce it. 
 
 " May I write and ask Stephen ? " 
 said the Marchioness. 
 
 " You may do anything you con- 
 founded like." This elegant phrase 
 decided the spiritual prospects of the 
 twelve thousand parishioners, and the 
 triumphant peeress retired to her boudoir 
 to pen the following letter, remarkable 
 alike for its grammar and gush : 
 
 " My very dear Ste. 
 
 " I have a very delicious pleasure 
 in having to write and tell you, that the 
 old 'Markis' offers you the living of 
 St. Mark's. Of course you will take it. 
 It is very much better than where you are. 
 
 43
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 It is worth ;£8oo a year, and there is a 
 good rectory. Of course, Oldskin's fur- 
 niture is bad, and his taste was execrable, 
 but Maples will make that all right. I 
 should have a light blue damask paper in 
 the drawing-room, and get rid of that 
 spotted linoleum on the staircase. You 
 must have four curates. I think the 
 Bishop has some fund that will pay for 
 them. They will do what I call the 
 drudgery of the work. You must of 
 course keep yourself for preaching on 
 Sunday. Fancy how splendid to have 
 you taking the town by storm. I would 
 have a short service at half-past eleven, if 
 I were you, just an anthem or something, 
 and then a spicy sermon full of all sorts 
 of good advice about our weaknesses ; 
 the dear Duchess of Lundy is so fond of 
 that sort of thing, don't you know, and so 
 am I for the matter of that, and then we 
 could get into the Park by a quarter to 
 one, and get the luncheon party well 
 begun before two, which I always think is 
 so important. I must not go on like this 
 44
 
 WESTWARD HO! 
 
 or I shall tire you. Now, mind you say 
 yes. If you like to come and see me, I 
 have got Chevallier la Trobe to tea at 
 4.30 to-morrow. He has got a new 
 idea about having a psychological Con- 
 gress. Do come and we can talk about 
 St. Mark's. By-the-bye I believe the drains 
 want looking at. 
 
 " Yours most affectionately, 
 
 " Aunt Alf. 
 
 " P.S. — I think the pews bring in 
 another ^200, but I'm not sure." 
 
 Thus it was that Stephen became the 
 Rector of St. Mark's. 
 
 45
 
 THE DOCKER 
 
 It was the "Sing song" night at the 
 Wapping " Tee-to-tum." A "Tee-to-tum" 
 may be shortly described as a Working 
 Men's Club without alcohol, a Res- 
 taurant without bad coffee, and a Tea 
 Shop without tea dust. You can gene- 
 rally depend upon getting your money's 
 worth if you go to a "Tee-to-tum," 
 though the music that night was not of 
 a very high class character. The per- 
 formers, it is true, belonged to the very 
 highest classes : there was more than 
 one titled lady and gentleman among 
 them, but somehow they had concocted a 
 curious programme. The banjo songs 
 were not exactly bad, but neither were they 
 refined, the skirt-dancing by Lady Blanche 
 46
 
 THIS DOCKER 
 
 Breezer was, to say the least of it, rather 
 queer, while the comic songs condescend- 
 ingly read by the Hon. Arthur Jones were, 
 strange to say, the very same, which 
 "Geoffrey Crump the Inimitable " had 
 sung at the " Paragon " the night before, 
 at least so the boys at the back of the 
 hall said. Now, if you had gone to the 
 Wellington Club that night at 12 o'clock, 
 and asked these ladies and gentlemen, as 
 they sat at supper discussing champagne 
 and oysters, how they had occupied the 
 earlier part of the evening, they would 
 have told you no doubt that they had 
 been " elevating the masses ! " Poor 
 dears ! and yet they meant well. " It's 
 so good for the people to come in 
 contact with our class," the Duchess of 
 Lundy had said to Lady Blanche : " do 
 try and get up a Concert for them down 
 at Wapping, you can manage it easily 
 after Ascot is over, only take care, 
 my dear, that you put on an old gown, 
 you might catch something." Thus the 
 Concert came off. And it produced one 
 
 47
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 important result. It led two men to con- 
 verse with, and to get to know one 
 another, who before had been but slightly 
 acquainted. These were Paul Durnford 
 and John Oxenham. They sat in the 
 concert-room, and submitted themselves 
 to the process known as "elevation." 
 
 Paul Durnford had been one of 
 Stephen's companions at Oxford. His 
 father was a carpenter in Dorsetshire, and 
 Paul had worked his way up by sheer hard 
 labour. He had won numberless Scholar- 
 ships, and had earned enough to keep 
 him at Oxford until he took a First Class 
 in Modern History. At the period of the 
 Wapping concert, he was staying in East 
 London at one of the University Settle- 
 ments, in order to become acquainted 
 with "the people." He had had the 
 good fortune to be appointed head li- 
 brarian to a new public library, then 
 being built in one of the East-End 
 parishes, and he was in the happy posi- 
 tion of having the prospect of plenty of 
 useful work to do and a sufficient income. 
 4 8
 
 THE DOCKER 
 
 His neighbour in the concert-room was 
 a dock labourer. John Oxenham had 
 been one of the leaders in the great Dock 
 strike, and had the reputation of being 
 very " advanced " in his views. It was 
 quite by chance that he had strolled into 
 the " Tee-to-tum" that night, and taken his 
 seat by the side of Paul. 
 
 " This sort of thing won't solve the 
 social problem, will it ? " said Oxenham 
 bluntly to his neighbour. They had met 
 before, at the time of the strike, when Paul 
 was occupied in giving out grocery ticket? 
 to the dockers' wives. 
 
 "No, I don't think it will," said Paul, 
 as Lady Blanche entered upon the last 
 verse of " Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay." 
 
 " What fools the men are," said Oxen- 
 ham, " to believe in these aristocrats : it's 
 all chloroform, that's what it is." 
 
 " Chloroform, what do you mean by 
 that ? " inquired Durnford. 
 
 'Why, I mean just this," said the other, 
 " these nobs are in a mortal funk of us 
 workers. That there Lady Blanche and 
 
 o 49
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 her Jezebel of a mother, the Duchess, are 
 Dames of the Primrose League : nor/, 
 they think if they can keep us quist by 
 giving us concerts and tea-meetings, we 
 shall be induced to rest content and say 
 nothing, while they are up to their larks 
 in the West-end. It's chloroform to 
 keep us asleep, that's what it is. But 
 it's too late," said the Strike leader half 
 starting to his feet, with his eyes gleaming, 
 as if he would like to storm tin- platform ; 
 "it's too late, they ought to ha/° thought 
 of it long ago, if they wanted it to succeed, 
 they ought to have thought of it before 
 tne Education Act, and before we got the 
 vote : we don't want their soup tickets. I 
 hate these West-end Missionaries and 
 Settlements. Settlements indeed ! the very 
 word suggests that we are savages." 
 
 " Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road," 
 screamed Lady Blanche, with a bewitching 
 curl of her blue-blooded lip, and sat down 
 amid roars of applause. 
 
 " I can't stand it," said Oxenham, 
 'come outside, Mr. Durnford, and let's 
 5«
 
 THE DOCKER 
 
 have a walk, the very air here chokes 
 
 me." 
 
 They walked down the street together 
 in silence. "Don't you think," said Paul 
 at last, " that you are a little hard on us ? " 
 
 '• Hard on you ? " said Oxenham, with 
 a look of disgust, " why, you surely don't 
 class yourself with that gang, do you ? " 
 
 " Well, no, not exactly," said Paul, " but 
 still I am an Oxford man, and I am one of 
 those who, in a humble way, are trying to 
 contribute something towards the solution 
 of the social problem, and I belong, you 
 know, to one of those 'Settlements ' about 
 which you talked so disparagingly just 
 
 now." 
 
 Oxenham looked at Paul, and said quite 
 calmly, and with an earnestness, that his 
 companion had not noticed in his former 
 utterances, "Mr. Durnford, you're as dif- 
 ferent from that painted step-dancer, as that 
 full moon yonder is from a dinner-plate." 
 
 Paul said nothing. His companion 
 went on : "I have been face to face with 
 the social problem now, for many years. 
 
 5i
 
 STEPHEN remarx 
 
 I have felt the injustice of our social sys- 
 tem as much as any man alive. I have 
 seen both sides, for I used to live on the 
 estate of a rich lord. My father was his 
 gardener. I did odd jobs in the house, 
 and I know how the aristocracy live. 
 Their feeding arrangements, alone, would 
 drive me into socialism. Four square 
 meals a day, if you please, for my lord's 
 family, while the poor dockers, out of 
 whose labour my lord gets his screw, for 
 you must know he's a large shareholder, 
 both in docks and ships, the poor dockers, 
 I say, are literally starving. My lord 
 seldom spoke of the dockers, except to call 
 them a ' drunken, lazy lot.' Mr. Durnford, 
 I have seen my lord's own sons the worse 
 for liquor, I have seen them play cards 
 for money until 4 a.m., I have known 
 them lie in bed till noon, I have never 
 known them to do an hour's useful work 
 for the good of mankind in their lives." 
 
 "May I speak?" said Paul, for he felt 
 that his companion was having it too much 
 his own way : " I too can speak from ex- 
 5«
 
 THE DOCKER 
 
 perience : I too am a poor man the son 
 of a carpenter." 
 
 "I respect you for that," said Oxenham, 
 taking off his hat quite seriously, and not 
 in play. 
 
 Paul continued : " I have seen many 
 good and kind rich people. Is it not better 
 in discussing social problems to keep from 
 personalities, and to stick to principles ? 
 There are good and bad people on both 
 sides. There are drunken dockers, but 
 there are respectable ones too, as I can 
 vouch for, just as there are drunken and 
 dissolute sons of peers, and some very 
 good ones also. The attack must be made 
 on the system, not on the persons who 
 are the victims of it." 
 
 " You are right, Mr. Durnford, but my 
 blood was up ; you see it was those young 
 lordlings that I knew in my youth, who 
 first started me on the socialistic warpath, 
 and I can't forget them." 
 
 " Well, forget them now," said Paul, 
 " and let's talk deeper. Don't you think 
 that sympathy between classes is the very 
 
 S3
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 first thing to be established before any of 
 this brushwood of injustice and inequality 
 can be cleared away ? Now, it is just 
 this sympathy which these settlements 
 and these social gatherings have done so 
 much to foster. Lady Blanche Breezer 
 may have rather a vulgar, boisterous way 
 of showing her sympathy, but I daresay she 
 has a good heart." 
 
 "Don't talk to me of that woman," 
 growled John, " we'll leave her out if you 
 please ; you said just now we were to keep 
 from personalities, and her ladyship's per- 
 sonality is just what I can't abide. Now, I 
 daresay I may have been wrong about the 
 settlements. If all these philanthropists were 
 like yourself, I should not mind. Yours is 
 a genuine sympathy, because you are a poor 
 man yourself. Nobody can sympathise 
 unless he has really experienced the suffer- 
 ings of those whom he proposes to compas- 
 sionate. I, for instance, have often been 
 hungry myself, and that's why I could lead 
 the strike." 
 
 " Oxenham," said Durnford seriously, 
 11 in that last sentence of yours you have 
 54
 
 THE DOCKER 
 
 touched upon what I believe to be the 
 very key of the social problem." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" said John. 
 
 "I mean that when you talk of the 
 necessity of sympathy, you suggest to me 
 the thought of Christianity, the religion 
 which centres round One whose very life 
 was sympathy itself." 
 
 " Are you a Christian ? " asked the 
 docker. " I mean, a real Christian — not 
 one of these sham ones who cover the 
 face of the earth." 
 
 " I am trying to be," said Paul, in a 
 simple, unaffected way. 
 
 "But does your religion," said Oxen- 
 ham, " help you at all in your social 
 aspirations? It always seems to me such 
 an unpractical affair ; the clergy are always 
 talking about Heaven above and all that 
 sort of thing. I call them sky pilots." 
 
 "Do you know Mr. Remarx?" said 
 Paul abruptly. 
 
 " No," said John. 
 
 "I wish you did," said Durnford, "I 
 will take you next Sunday to hear him 
 preach." 
 
 £5
 
 VI 
 
 IN THE WILDERNESS 
 
 Stephen certainly created a sensation, 
 though hardly in the way the Mar- 
 chioness had contemplated. There were 
 several strict rules he made for himself, 
 which did not at all suit his aunt's ideas 
 of what a popular preacher ought to do 
 and to be. He absolutely refused ever to 
 come to her Sunday luncheon parties. 
 This she consoled herself about by say- 
 ing to the Duchess: "Well, my dear, at 
 any rate we shall be able to talk about the 
 sermon better in my nephew's absence ! " 
 But then he so often could not come 
 even to dinner or tea. In the afternoons 
 he wanted to visit the poor, and in the 
 evenings he would insist on looking after 
 his gymnasium. "My dear Ste," Aunt 
 56
 
 IN THE WILDERNESS 
 
 Alfy would say, " you'll simply kill your- 
 self. Dr. Oldskin never did that kind of 
 work, and he came of quite a low family. 
 I believe his mother was a laundress. 
 Now, if he did not work, why need you ? " 
 Stephen would then gently remind her 
 that there were no less than eight thousand 
 poor people in St. Mark's parish, or he 
 would read her portions of the Ordination 
 Service to impress upon her his respon- 
 sibilities. Then she would try another 
 tack. " My dear, you must remember 
 that you have a duty towards the rich 
 members of your parish, you seem to 
 forget them. I always say, we rich people 
 want quite as much looking after as the 
 lower classes." " And a great deal more, 
 sometimes ! " thought Stephen, but he 
 would answer her thus aloud," Aunt Alfy, 
 I don't think you quite understand the 
 nature of a clergyman's work. I have but 
 one object, namely, to preach and to teach 
 Christ. Now, my method of doing this 
 with poor and rich may differ a little accord- 
 ing to circumstances. In the first place, I 
 
 *7
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 find them in very different attitudes towards 
 Christianity byreasonof their opportunities. 
 Most of my rich parishioners have had 
 the Gospel preached to them, and have 
 learnt their Catechism, while most of my 
 poor people have hardly heard it at all, or 
 are deeply prejudiced against the Church 
 itself. And so it comes, that with one set 
 of persons my work is to break down 
 prejudice or to attract them into 
 Church, while with the other, it is to 
 get them to carry out in practice the 
 religion they already know about, but 
 whose principles they have no desire to 
 apply to life." 
 
 " I don't understand," said the Mar- 
 chioness, vacantly. 
 
 " Let me then give you a few examples. 
 Take such a man as Sir Henry Dyvese. 
 He is the Chairman of the 'National 
 Security Match Company.' He is a 
 nominal Christian, who gives at least 
 eighteenpence to the collection on 
 Sunday, and believes in the great im- 
 portance of an Established Church. It is 
 53
 
 IN THE WILDERNESS 
 
 true he never kneels down, but he says 
 very fervently, after each of the ten 
 commandments, ' Incline our hearts to 
 keep this law.' But for all this, he won't 
 move a finger to remedy the grievances of 
 the girls he employs. Four of these girls 
 last week were suffering from a sore 
 mouth, which comes from making matches 
 in a way that might be avoided. Their 
 wages, too, would hardly pay for the keep 
 of Lady Dyvese's collie ; and yet the 
 ordinary shareholders are receiving 15 per 
 cent." 
 
 " I really do not see what this has to do 
 with religion," said her ladyship, almost 
 pettishly. 
 
 " Wait a minute," said Stephen. " My 
 duty is somehow or other to bring it home 
 to Sir Henry, that his religion requires 
 him to look into these matters, and that 
 he might just as well be a Mohammedan, 
 if he does not. In fact, I said as much 
 to him the other day." 
 
 " What did he say ? " asked the Aunt. 
 
 " He laughed, and said that the clergy 
 
 59
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 were notoriously bad men of business, and 
 had better not interfere where they were 
 not wanted." 
 
 "A very good answer," laughed the 
 Marchioness. 
 
 " It satisfied him," said Stephen sternly, 
 " but it did not satisfy me. However, let's 
 take another case — a more general one. 
 All you ladies are very particular about 
 having your dresses made to time ; some- 
 times you give the poor dressmaker very 
 little time in which to execute your orders, 
 or you haggle over the price of things, and 
 clutch at what is cheap. Now, does it 
 never strike you that you are really re- 
 sponsible for the excessively long hours 
 during which some poor people have to 
 slave, and for the low wages they are paid, 
 and for the bad conditions under which 
 some of them have to work ? Do you know, 
 for instance, that at Smith and Jobley's 
 shop, where, I believe, you get many of 
 your things, the shop-girls are never 
 allowed to sit down, and that they work 
 ninety hours a week? Only last night, I was 
 60
 
 IN THE WILDERNESS 
 
 at the death-bed of a poor girl who used 
 to work there. She is dying of consump- 
 tion, brought on simply by her hard work." 
 " Oh, well, of course I think that's all 
 very dreadful," said the poor Marchioness, 
 who was beginning to feel quite un- 
 comfortable, "but I cannot do anything; 
 Alfy says that political economy teaches 
 us that we must let things go on, and that 
 you cannot fight against what he calls the 
 'iron laws.' I don't know what he 
 means, but dear Ste, do take some port 
 wine to that poor girl." 
 
 " She has all she wants in that way," 
 said Stephen seriously, and then looking 
 earnestly at his worldly aunt, he went on : 
 " Aunt Alfy, I know you have a good kind 
 heart; I know you want to help those 
 poor people, but I am convinced that 
 something more is wanted than the giving 
 of material aid. We must change our 
 lives, we must give ourselves for them, and 
 not only our money to them ; we must, in 
 fact, live as Christ lived, yes, even here 
 in this nineteenth-century London. Dear 
 
 6i
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 Aunt, will you help me? Will you try 
 with me?" He said this in a tremulous, 
 hesitating voice, only too conscious that 
 such an appeal would be quite lost on his 
 fashionable relation. 
 
 "My dear boy, I can make no pro- 
 
 mises." 
 
 Fortunately, at this moment the lun- 
 cheon-bell rang and the Marchioness went 
 to wash her hands. 
 
 " I can make no promises ! " mused 
 Stephen. "But she has made them already, 
 and so have I. We promised at our baptism 
 to renounce the world, the flesh, and the 
 devil. What are we doing to keep them ? " 
 
 It may seem surprising that Stephen 
 should have spoken thus seriously to his 
 aunt. One might have thought that he 
 would have looked for more earnest 
 spirits, before whom to cast his pearls. 
 The truth was that Stephen had made 
 few friends. He was living a solitary life. 
 Crowds, it is true, came to his church, but 
 at present they just came and went 
 away. They discussed his sermons in 
 62
 
 IN THE WILDERNESS 
 
 private ; some tried to pick to pieces his 
 startling theories, some pondered over 
 them alone. Old-fashioned Church people 
 began by having uneasy thoughts that 
 perhaps he might be right, but they gene- 
 rally ended by settling satisfactorily to their 
 own consciences that his eccentric doc- 
 trines were the outcome of what they called 
 his "hot-headed youth." The younger 
 people, especially the young men who 
 came in considerable numbers on Sunday 
 mornings, were more deeply impressed by 
 what he said. Some of them who had 
 been sceptically inclined at first would 
 say : " Well, if Christianity is what Remarx 
 says it is, there is much more in it than 
 ever I dreamt of." This attractive power 
 of Stephen was not because he compro- 
 mised his faith or made his message palat- 
 able to his hearers. No one was more 
 orthodox or unswerving in his allegiance to 
 the grand supernatural truths of the Chris- 
 tian Creed. Rather it was because he made 
 the Creed a living thing, entering into all 
 the details of every-day human life, showing 
 
 63
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 men how in every age Truth, while re- 
 maining unaltered itself, meets the needs 
 of each successive generation. 
 
 The young barrister would go from St. 
 Mark's on Sunday to his chambers on 
 Monday, or the stockbroker to the Ex- 
 change, with a new idea of how he ought 
 to try and do his work. He would feel 
 thus : " I'm a Christian, somehow or other 
 I must behave as such to-day ; I am bound 
 to love my neighbour as myself, I am bound 
 to do to others as I would wish them to do 
 to me, I am bound to do all to the glory of 
 God, I am bound to be true and just in all 
 my dealings." When they came thus to 
 apply their religion to their daily calling, 
 they found it difficult : the stockbroker 
 began to wonder whether all his doings 
 were strictly honest, the young M.P. 
 whether he ought not sometimes to consult 
 his conscience as well as the party Whip 
 before entering the lobby : the landlord 
 whether after all he ought not to listen to 
 the cry of the poor cotter on his estate 
 whose house was letting in the rain, while 
 6 4
 
 IN THE WILDERNESS 
 
 his own had just been refurnished at 
 enormous cost. 
 
 More often than not, these men thrust 
 the thoughts away, but they had an ugly 
 way of turning up again. And, moreover, 
 the men would persist in visiting St. 
 Mark's, and whenever they went, there 
 stood this latter-day prophet in his pulpit, 
 reading his Gospel, quietly pointing them 
 to the words of Christ, giving them chap- 
 ter and verse for everything he said, and 
 then applying it all. with relentless logic, ti/ 
 the facts of every-day life. 
 
 And yet, at present, Stephen led a 
 solitary life. His hearers seemed to have 
 a kind of awe of him. Scarcely any one 
 ventured to speak to him about these things. 
 A few wrote him anonymous letters, some 
 signed their names. There was something 
 weird about his solitariness. Like a 
 second Baptist, he was a " Voice " solemn 
 and alone, crying in the wilderness of 
 London society.
 
 VII 
 
 CONVERSION 
 
 The first to break the spell was John 
 Oxenham. Ever since the Sunday even- 
 ing, when Durnford had first taken him 
 to St. Mark's Church, John had been a 
 regular attendant, except of course when 
 he was engaged at any of the Union meet- 
 ings, which were usually held on Sundays 
 Oxenham did not mind walking all the 
 way from Rotherhithe to Chelsea to hear 
 his favourite preacher. Some of his mates 
 would laugh at him, and say : " Well 
 wonders will never cease ! fancy Jack 
 going every Sunday, like a little girl, to 
 listen to a sky pilot yarning about the stars 
 and the cherrybims." And Joe Binks, the 
 Secularist lecturer, would get quite angry 
 with him and say : " I say, Jack, I thought 
 
 66
 
 CONVERSION 
 
 better of you. Aren't you aware that 
 Christianity is an exploded faith ? Don't 
 you know that even the parsons have 
 given up the Bible now ? Why do you 
 waste your time over such rubbish ? " 
 Jack would be good-humoured over this, 
 and say : " Look here, you fellows, when 
 you talk, as you do, about Christianity and 
 all the rest of it, you are talking about 
 something, of which you know nothing. 
 I venture to say, if you would come and 
 hear my parson up West, instead of drink- 
 ing beer down here " (Jack was a strong 
 teetotaller, like most of the Union lead- 
 ers), " you would be doing a jolly sight 
 more good to yourselves : and as for our 
 friend Binks, in spite of all his learning, I 
 don't think he knows what Christianity is. 
 He's for ever fighting against something, 
 which he calls Christianity, but it is not 
 the Christianity of the Founder. And as 
 for the Bible, so far from giving it up, we 
 are only just finding out what it all means. 
 While Joe Binks has been puzzling his 
 head over Cain's wife and Balaam's ass, I 
 
 67
 
 STKPHKN REMARX 
 
 have been trying to find out what the 
 Bible has to say on social questions, and 
 do you know there's a lot more about 
 socialism in the Bible than any of you 
 fellows think. And it's because my par- 
 son up West knows something about 
 these things, and a good lot more than 
 our friend Joe here, that I intend going 
 every Sunday to hear him, until further 
 notice." 
 
 After a time, however, John Oxenham 
 was left in peace and suffered to con- 
 tinue his devotions unnoticed. Sunday 
 after Sunday he would sit and listen, awed 
 like the rest, not by the eloquence, but 
 by the peculiar earnestness and pathos of 
 this wonderful priest. 
 
 At last, one All Saints' Day, he had been 
 listening in rapt attention to an especially 
 striking sermon from Stephen. It was on 
 the " New Jerusalem." How different 
 was this picture of heaven to anything 
 which John had conceived before. His 
 thoughts went back to an old print which 
 hung in the coffee-shop at P-otherhithe. It 
 63
 
 CONVERSION 
 
 had been presented by a well-meaning 
 lady of Low Church leanings. It was 
 called " Heaven," but it looked like a 
 picture of a monster Rosherville with a 
 very big conservatory in the background. 
 Often and often had Oxenham muttered 
 to himself, "Well, if heaven is like that, I 
 don't want to go there." But to-night, 
 Mr. Remarx was speaking of something 
 very different, which, nevertheless, he 
 called " Heaven " and believed in, too. 
 He was speaking of a glorious society of 
 real human beings, whose whole heart and 
 soul were on fire for righteousness and 
 good— men and women, who, after honest 
 hard work, had entered into rest and yet 
 were not at rest, because still all their 
 energies were at work for good and right 
 and God. And then he went on to show 
 that Christians believed that even here 
 on this earth there could be a heaven, even 
 here and now this glorious society was being 
 formed of men and women who had given 
 themselves to God and righteousness ; 
 the Kingdom of Heaven. "There are 
 
 69
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 saints among us now ; " said Stephen, " if 
 there's a man in this Church whose whole 
 desire is to do God's will on earth as it is 
 in heaven; if there's any one here who 
 hates sin and wrong at all as God hates 
 them ; if there's any one who is prepared 
 to suffer pain and loss for the sake of 
 right, then, even though his name be not 
 in the Calendar of the Church, he's a 
 saint, 'for of such is the Kingdom of 
 Heaven.' " 
 
 " I must see that man to-night," said 
 John to himself, "I cannot listen any 
 longer without knowing him. I love him.' 
 
 The dock-labourer buried his face in 
 his hands and sobbed silently, while the 
 congregation sang : 
 
 " Oh, what the joy and the glory must be, 
 Those endless Sabbaths the blessed ones 
 
 see; 
 Crown for the valiant, to weary ones rest ; 
 God shall be all and in all ever blest." 
 
 That evening after supper Stephen was 
 sitting in his study, when John Oxenham 
 70
 
 CONVERSION 
 
 was suddenly ushered in by the maid- 
 servant. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Oxenham," said the Rector, 
 " I have long wished to know you. My 
 friend, Paul Durnford, has told me so 
 much about you, and, besides, everybody 
 knows your name." 
 
 They sat and conversed : the son of 
 a peer and the son of a gardener, the 
 parson and the Socialist : so separated 
 according to the world's reckoning, but 
 so close to each other in reality ; men of 
 one heart, of one aim, each desiring above 
 all things to make this world of ours a 
 better place, each deeply impressed with 
 the wrongs and injustices under which 
 large numbers of their fellow-men were 
 suffering, each eager to be up and doing, 
 each, yes, each of them a " saint " in the 
 sense of that evening's sermon. 
 
 "Let me try," said John, after they had 
 been talking for some time, "let me try 
 Mr. Remarx, to put together shortly what 
 I seem to have learnt during these last 
 six months from your preaching, and then 
 
 7*
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 will you tell me if I have rightly under- 
 stood you." 
 
 "Very well," said Stephen, "it will 
 interest me much." 
 
 Oxenham began : " You must know 
 that, before I heard you, my ideas .of 
 Christianity were of a very hazy descrip- 
 tion. I was never an unbeliever. The 
 secularist lecturers kept me from that. All 
 their 'Bible smashing' only made me 
 feel more certain, that a Book that could 
 stand all that, and yet keep such a hold 
 on all right-thinking people must be true 
 What made me more inclined to disbelieve 
 was the life of the average Christian 
 whom I met from time to time. I used 
 to think to myself, can a religion be 
 divine which produces so little result? 
 I once worked for a butcher, who was 
 also a preacher. He used to say on 
 Sundays that he was ' saved ' and could 
 not be ' plucked out of the Lord's 
 hand;' but on week days he used to tell 
 his customers that New Zealand mutton 
 
 came from Scotland, and he was never very 
 
 72
 
 CONVERSION 
 
 particular when manipulating the scales. 
 Occasionally, however, I came across a 
 consistent Christian, and that kept me off 
 atheism. But it never entered my head 
 that it was the religion for me. I never 
 thought, until I heard you, that I could 
 find in Christianity anything that would 
 help me in my labour work. Though 
 perhaps I ought to mention that, during 
 the Dock Strike, I did think it good the 
 way the Church people helped us. The 
 thought came across me once then that 
 perhaps they had some message to us 
 Socialists. But it passed away for the 
 time. Now, since I have sat under you, 
 I have come to believe that without 
 Christianity the labour movement is 
 certain to fail. First of all, I have got an 
 inspiration for my work which I never 
 had before. I believe that Christ is God, 
 and I believe that His Will is that all 
 unrighteousness and injustice should be 
 swept away from this earth, which as you 
 have often told us is His Kingdom. I 
 believe that as a Christian I am bound to 
 
 73
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 fight against all that is bad in the world. 
 When I stand up on Sunday mornings at 
 the Dock gates, and rally the men around 
 our Union banner, I feel I am doing 
 Christ's work, I feel somehow that He is 
 standing by my side and saying ' Come 
 unto Me all ye that labour.' Then, again, 
 I used to abuse the rich people in my 
 speeches, and extol the virtues of the 
 poor. I don't do that now. I tell the 
 men that there's a lot that's bad in them- 
 selves, which must be got rid of if the 
 labour movement is to succeed. I tell 
 them it's no good having more wages, 
 if you don't know how to spend them, 
 and it's no good having shorter hours, 
 if you waste your leisure time. And 
 again, I used to think that Parliament 
 could make the world all good and set 
 everything to rights, but I see now that 
 though laws can do a great deal, they can't 
 do all. I see that we must make people 
 good and unselfish, before we can compel 
 them to do very much. And this is 
 where religion comes in. I'm perfectly 
 
 74
 
 CONVERSION 
 
 certain that nothing but religion will make 
 a man unselfish whether he's a capitalist 
 or a worker. So we must have religion." 
 
 John stopped quite abruptly at this 
 point and said : "That's what I've learnt 
 from you, Mr. Remarx." 
 
 "No," said Stephen, reverently, "you 
 have learnt it from God." 
 
 They were silent for a few minutes. 
 The young rector was mentally thanking 
 God for an answer to his prayers, for night 
 by night he had brought this man's name, 
 together with the names of all the social 
 leaders of the day, before the throne of the 
 Almighty. 
 
 At last he spoke again : " Tell me, 
 Oxenham, is there anything you can 
 suggest, that we Church people could do 
 more effectually to bring before the world 
 our aims ? " 
 
 " Ah," said Oxenham, " there is one 
 thing which I have often thought of, but it 
 seems impossible to realise." 
 
 "What is that?" said the Rector. 
 
 " It is that somehow there is not in the 
 
 73
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 world any one that looks like Christ, or 
 anything that looks like what we read of in 
 the Gospels. I think if people could only 
 feel that we were really doing what our 
 Lord did they would believe in us. The 
 modern philanthropist never seems to me 
 to have one point in common with his 
 Master. He is not even hated and he will 
 never be crucified. I cannot express it 
 exactly, but perhaps you can guess what I 
 mean." 
 
 Stephen was profoundly agitated. He 
 could scarcely control himself. " Oxen- 
 ham," he almost shouted, "I know it, I 
 know it : you have guessed my meaning : 
 it is what I long for, what I pray for. To 
 show Christ to the w )rld. When men look 
 at me, they see a clergyman ; perhaps to 
 them that means nothing more than a 
 State-paid preacher, who does not even 
 believe what he is paid to say ; but what 
 ought they to see? They should see 
 Christ. They should see a man full of 
 compassion and long suffering, a man 
 honestly indignant at hypocrisy and sham, 
 76
 
 CONVERSION 
 
 hating evil, wholly devoted to righteous- 
 ness, a man stripped of earthly wealth and 
 comfort, a poor man yet making many rich. 
 Ah yes, and everywhere in this Christian 
 Church there should be Christs, men and 
 women, boys and girls, separate from this 
 devilish world spirit, employers of labour 
 with clean hands and pure hearts, states- 
 men honest and single-hearted, women 
 pure and kind, artists and labourers diligent 
 and truthful, every one loving, every one 
 working. Great God, can it be done: 
 Who will help me ? who will help me ? " 
 He sank on the sofa and shed great brave 
 tears of manly strength. 
 
 " I will help you," said Oxenham calmly 
 " through Christ our Lord." 
 
 7?
 
 VIII 
 
 IN EXCELSI5 
 
 The coverts at Lundy Towers had got 
 to be shot for the second time of the 
 season. This important truth had im- 
 pressed itself on the mind of the 
 Duchess a month ago, and Her Grace had 
 been busily engaged, for two hours every 
 day between late breakfast and early 
 lunch, in scheming and planning for this 
 great event. " First, the shooting men must 
 be asked : Captain Deadly from the 
 Depot, Lord Henry and Lord Arthur from 
 the Abbey, and that horrid Radical Vesey 
 Maitland, whom the Duke always insists 
 on having, because he's such a good shot. 
 These and the two boys will be enough 
 for the coverts." So argued the Duchess 
 
 with herself. " Then there's the House 
 ■78
 
 IN EXCELSIS 
 
 party. I must have the Marchioness, and 
 I am afraid Mary will be offended if I don't 
 ask her and her two hideous girls. What 
 a trouble relations are, to be sure ! " 
 
 "They are so horribly good too, those 
 Bramley girls," said Lady Blanche ; " they'll 
 be giving away tracts in the drawing- 
 room after dinner as sure as I'm a 
 Breezer." 
 
 " My dear Blanche," said her Grace, 
 " as if I should allow such a thing ! Still, 
 of course, their religion is most objection- 
 able, so very different from the sensible 
 doctrines of our Prayer Book." 
 
 If her Grace had been narrowly ques- 
 tioned as to what those "sensible doc- 
 trines " were, she would have found herself, 
 metaphorically and vulgarly speaking, up 
 a very fair-sized tree. 
 
 "Of course, my dear," continued the 
 Duchess, " I think a certain amount of 
 religion in a country-house is a very good 
 thing, and so I think we'll ask the Bishop 
 of Doncaster." 
 
 " Oh no, mamma, pray don't ; you'll 
 
 79
 
 STEPHEN REMARK 
 
 have to ask his wife, who hasn't got an c h ' 
 to her back ; she was one of his Sunday- 
 school teachers when he was a curate. If 
 you must have a clergyman, try and get 
 Mr. Remarx, he's so interesting ; he'll be 
 sure to say all sorts of. things to make 
 people talk, and he might preach on 
 Sunday instead of that dreadful Bug- 
 snorter." 
 
 "No, dear," replied her Grace, "it's 
 useless to ask Mr. Remarx ; he never goes 
 away except into retreat by himself. In 
 fact, I know that at this present time he 
 has gone to a sort of monastery at Malvern, 
 where he is thinking out his sermons for 
 next season ; the Marchioness wrote and 
 told me so. No, if we are to go in for the 
 Church, and the Bishop won't do, we'll 
 have the Dean of Dover. He's the 
 wittiest man in England, and has such 
 a dear old face. He has the great ad- 
 vantage of having no vulgar relations. 
 In fact, I believe he's a cousin of the 
 Ormsby Vavasours." 
 
 " Well, then, I think we ought to have 
 80
 
 IN EXCELSIS 
 
 a ritualistic lady to counteract those 
 Bramley girls ; or, better still, a High 
 Church young man who will shock them. 
 Mr. Denholme will do. He goes to St. 
 Barbara's, and is a member of all sorts of 
 Romish guilds and things." 
 
 " He fasts on Fridays, which is rather 
 an objection," said Blanche. 
 
 " Oh, never mind that," said the 
 Duchess ; " Tissot can easily make up 
 some nice maigre dishes for him. I've 
 got a recipe, which was given me by a 
 monk in the south of France, for doing 
 oysters in cream." 
 
 In this kind of way, the party for the 
 covert shooting was gradually built up ; 
 and in due course they assembled round 
 the hospitable board of Lundy Towers. 
 
 The festive week was a time of real 
 hard work for all concerned, hardest, 
 perhaps, for the servants, but nobody 
 thought of them. 
 
 The day began somewhere about ten 
 o'clock. A sumptuous breakfast was 
 spread in the green morning-room. It 
 
 f 81
 
 STEPHEN REMARK 
 
 was an unsociable meal, because nobody 
 began quite at the same time as any one 
 else. One had finished his egg before 
 the other had begun his, others had 
 got to the cutlets before a later batch had 
 tackled the fish, the Dean was eating his 
 marmalade, while Mr. Denholme had not 
 poured out the cream into the first of his 
 four cups of tea. This young gentleman 
 seldom got down before 10.20 a.m., 
 though the rule of the Guild of St. 
 
 Botolph, to which he belonged, suggested 
 7.30 as the latest hour at which "brothers" 
 should rise. " I got a dispensation from 
 Father Freeborg before I came, you 
 know," he would say in self-defence regu- 
 larly every morning to the eldest Miss 
 Eramley, who would promptly offer him 
 under the table-cloth a little tract called : 
 "The Jesuits are among us again! Be- 
 ware ! " Published by the " National 
 Society for the Recovery of Reformation 
 Principles." Price \d. for 100. 
 
 After breakfast, the shooters departed 
 to the coverts, the ladies, the Dean. Mr. 
 Ss
 
 IN EXCELS I vS 
 
 Denholme, and other half-men sitting in 
 the drawing-room. A good deal of gossip 
 was got through then, though the greater 
 amount was reserved for the hour before 
 evening dinner. Some managed to get a 
 quarter of an hour's walk before luncheon, 
 but this was not de rigueur. Luncheon 
 was at 1.30, a very large meal. The Rev. 
 Mr. Bugsnorter, Vicar of the parish of 
 Lundy-cum-Lundy, generally managed to 
 bring some important parochial matter 
 for her Grace's imprimatur at 1.15, which, 
 curiously enough, made it almost necessary 
 for him to stay for lunch. " I hardly like 
 to trespass, your Grace, so soon again upon 
 your Grace's hospitality," he would say, 
 "and moreover, I have left my three 
 boys out in the garden to wait for me, and 
 I think I ought to go to them." 
 
 "Oh, bring them in," said the Duchess, 
 resignedly. " I daresay they are hungry 
 after their long walk." 
 
 And so they were, poor boys, very 
 hungry indeed, and they did thorough 
 justice to the four courses which regularly 
 
 *3
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 succeeded one another at the ducal 
 luncheon-table. 
 
 After luncheon, every one assembled 
 round the piano to hear a new duet be- 
 tween Mr. Denholme and Lady Blanche. 
 Mr. Bugsnorter applauded loudly, little sus- 
 pecting that it was the same duet which 
 the "Sisters Piff Paff " were wont to sing at 
 the "Tivoli." The words, however, were 
 in French, and the old Vicar could hardly 
 be expected to understand. After an 
 impromptu skirt-dance by Lady Blanche, 
 or a reading of one of Ibsen's plays 
 by Mr. Traverdi, an amateur actor, the 
 party would go out for a drive, with the 
 exception of the Bramley girls, who by 
 this time of day had generally got into a 
 state of despair, and walked off by them- 
 selves to the neighbouring town to call on 
 the Dissenting minister. Tea was served 
 at five in the pink sitting-room. It was 
 usually at this meal that Miss Georgy 
 Green looked in. She was an old maid, 
 who lived with her sister in the village. 
 Her great delight was to see how the 
 84
 
 IN EXCELSIS 
 
 upper classes lived, and her " Gleanings 
 from Five-o'clock Tea," had they been 
 published, would have made the fortune 
 of a fashionable bookseller. 
 
 " Ah, my love," she would say on her 
 return to the Ivy Cottage, " you should 
 have been there this afternoon ; Lady 
 Blanche is getting more amusing every 
 day. I notice, by the way, they don't wear 
 much behind now ; I must get my brown 
 silk altered ; and the bonnets too are so 
 very small. Then, my love, it's quite wrong 
 to say ' Do you take tea ? ' the Duchess 
 always says simply ' Tea ? ' It sounds so 
 much better, I think. And then, my dear, 
 we must get into the habit of shaking 
 hands in the right way ; you must not do 
 it in a natural kind of way, you must 
 first of all let your right hand hang loosely 
 from your wrist like a drooping lily, then 
 you must raise your arm quite high in 
 the air like you do when the dressmaker 
 measures you round the chest, keeping your 
 right hand drooping all the time, then you 
 must waggle it m your neighbour's eye, and 
 
 85
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 he or she will be ready by this time with 
 his or her right hand in the same kind of 
 position, then you will not grasp it in a 
 vulgar way, but just take his or her third 
 finger between your first and third finger, 
 waggle again, and then it's done." 
 
 " Are you quite sure about that, 
 Georgy ? " her sister would say. 
 
 "Quite sure, my love. I took notes in 
 my pocket-book immediately after I had 
 seen Lady Blanche do it." 
 
 Tea was an amusing meal at Lundy, for 
 the guests knew all about Miss Georgy's 
 weaknesses, and behaved in an especially 
 extravagant manner for her benefit. After 
 tea, it being winter-time, there would be a 
 cosy assembly round the large fire in the 
 hall, and a right good gossip until dinner. 
 Dinner was the culmination of all the hopes 
 and anticipations of the day. Even the 
 shooters, engrossed in their sport, haa from 
 time to time been looking fondly forward 
 to the evening's rest at the comfortable 
 board, where for two good hours they 
 would graze upon the fat pastures pre- 
 
 S6
 
 IN KXCELSIS 
 
 pared for them by the Duke's Parisian 
 cook. 
 
 After dinner, there would be music of a 
 more sedate character than that of the 
 afternoon, there being usually some of the 
 local bigwigs present, who would have 
 been shocked at anything outre. At the 
 departure of the bigwigs, however, the 
 fun would become more boisterous. Mr. 
 Traverdi would give an imitation of an 
 Italian prima donna, or the Dean would 
 mesmerise the Duchess. Cards and 
 •smoking followed, and it must have been 
 quite two o'clock before the last man 
 turned into bed. It was indeed a hard 
 day's work. 
 
 On one day in that week a little varia- 
 tion was caused in the programme owing 
 to a heavy fall of rain. The guests, un- 
 able to go out after breakfast, sat in the 
 Hall. It was then that the conversa- 
 tion turned upon the subject of our hero, 
 Stephen Remarx. 
 
 It began in this way. Vesey Maitland, 
 who was talking to Lord Arthur, was 
 
 87
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 heard to say, during a lull such as often 
 comes in the midst of a loud conversation, 
 these remarkable words : " I don't think 
 you have any right to retain your shares 
 in the Swampshire Railway Company as 
 long as they treat their men like that." 
 
 "What's that?" said the Dean anxiously, 
 for he held a large stake in the Swamp- 
 shire : "is anything going wrong with the 
 Company ? " 
 
 "Oh no, don't be afraid, Mr. Dean," 
 
 replied Lord Arthur, " it's only an absurd 
 
 idea which Maitland has picked up from 
 
 that fanatic Remarx, that you ought not 
 
 to hold shares in a concern where the 
 
 working-men are not well treated. In the 
 
 first plac&, I don't believe the Swampshire 
 
 men are worse treated than any others. 
 
 They only work fourteen hours a day." 
 
 (His Lordship said this with the air of 
 
 one who had frequently worked as long, 
 
 and longer himself, though it is needless 
 
 to observe that, with the exception of 
 
 making toast for his fagmaster at Eton, he 
 
 had never done a stroke of manual labour 
 88
 
 IN EXCELSIS 
 
 in his life.) "And in the second place, 
 even if they were, I have no right to inter- 
 fere." 
 
 " Not even if you are receiving large 
 dividends from the overwork of these 
 men?" said Maitland. "Supposing one 
 of them died from overwork, would not 
 you have had any part in his death ? " 
 
 " Of course not : what beastly rot you 
 talk!" said Lord Arthur. "Let's hear 
 your opinion, Mr. Dean." 
 
 "Well, of course," said the Dean, 
 cautiously feeling his way, on what he 
 knew to be dangerous ground, " of course, 
 I know that there is a very distinct move- 
 ment, nowadays, in the direction indicated 
 by my friend, Mr. Maitland, but I think 
 we must be very careful how we proceed. 
 We must always bear in mind that any 
 interference with freedom of contract and 
 the unfettered circulation of capital is 
 likely to land us in a quicksand, whence 
 it will be extremely difficult for us, com- 
 mercially and industrially speaking of 
 course, to emerge." 
 
 89
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 A faint murmur of applause greeted 
 this effusion of the Dean's, though no- 
 body knew exactly what he meant. 
 
 "But don't you think," ventured Lady 
 Blanche, " that Mr. Remarx must not be 
 taken seriously ? I think it was Papa 
 who once said that, if what Remarx sug- 
 gested in one of his sermons about carry- 
 ing out the Sermon on the Mount were 
 really done, Society would break up into 
 little pieces in a week." 
 
 " I certainly think," continued the 
 Dean, "that some of the things which 
 Mr. Remarx is reported to have said " — 
 ("Some of his 'remarks' in fact," said 
 Mr. Denholme in a childish voice, and 
 then sank back behind a Japanese fan in 
 confusion, nobody having laughed) — "I 
 think that many of these things are purely 
 Utopian : purely Utopian," he repeated, 
 "to the last degree, and in the very worst 
 sense. Moreover, to suppose, that at the 
 end of the nineteenth century of Chris- 
 tianity we are only just finding out, from 
 the lips of a young curate, what religion 
 90
 
 IN EXCELS TS 
 
 really is, and what it requires us to do, is 
 absurd, and on the face of it ridiculous." 
 
 "And yet," said Maitland,"it was only 
 at the beginning of this same nineteenth 
 century that our forefathers were so 
 ignorant of the principles of Christianity 
 that they quite cheerfully hung people for 
 stealing sheep and even smaller things ; 
 and it is only thirty or forty years ago 
 that our fathers complacently allowed 
 children to work in the coal-pits, at the age 
 of six years, without moving a finger to 
 help them ; and with all due respect to you, 
 Mr. Dean, even at the end of this nine- 
 teenth century I venture to think there's a 
 great deal more for us to learn. Do you 
 think it right, for instance, for nominally 
 Christian landlords to be living in 
 luxurious palaces, while their own tenants 
 are living in unwholesome dwellings which 
 could be pulled down and put up again 
 .n a proper way for half the price of what 
 these same men spend on yachting in the 
 Mediterranean ? " 
 
 The Dean seemed a little confused, but 
 
 91
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 managed to say : " Well, Mr. Maitland, of 
 course you may look at things in this 
 novel way, and I am an old man, and can't 
 be expected to change now. Of course, I 
 know there's a great deal of poverty in 
 the world, and a great deal of inequality, 
 but it always will be so : ' The poor are 
 always with us,' as the Holy Scriptures 
 say." 
 
 " Yes," said Lady Blanche, chiming in 
 with an alarming piece of exegesis, " and 
 it says too that we can ' do what we will 
 with our own ; ' so why shouldn't we go 
 yachting ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Lord Arthur, with a crown- 
 ing misquotation, "and the Catechism says 
 that the poor are to be content, and do 
 their duty in the state of life to which the 
 Almighty has called them." 
 
 "What do you think, Miss Bramley ? " 
 asked the Dean, hoping to transfer the 
 responsibility of defending the old faith 
 on to younger shoulders. 
 
 " Oh, I'm sure I don't know," said 
 Miss Bramley in a rapid voice, and 
 92
 
 IN EXCELSIS 
 
 nervously fumbling in her bag for a 
 tract ; " I think these things have nothing 
 to do with religion; we've got to save our 
 souls, haven't we ? That's the only thing 
 to think about ; it's not by works of 
 righteousness that we shall get to Heaven. 
 I don't think Mr. Remarx is a safe guide. 
 I am told he's not converted. I think Mr. 
 Maitland will find out the truth, perhaps, if 
 he reads this." She handed him a large 
 tract on blue paper called " Tares among 
 the Wheat, or the Socialist Satan among 
 the Saints." Then Mr. Denholme, having 
 recovered from his confusion, and think- 
 ing that his turn had come, thus delivered 
 himself: "Father Freeborg, you know, 
 whom I look upon as a great authority 
 and a most spiritual man, says that all this 
 Socialism is a great mistake : he thinks 
 that the work of a priest is to deal with 
 heavenly things, and not with dwellings 
 of the poor, and County Councils, and 
 worldly things of that kind. I think he's 
 quite right — don't you ? And as for Mr. 
 Remarx, of course he's great fun to listen 
 
 93
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 to. I look upon him as a sort of Church 
 Corney Grain, who does for Sundays, when 
 German Reed's is not open, don't you 
 know? But of course he's not quite 
 Catholic you know, and one could not 
 make him one's director or anything of 
 that kind,you know." 
 
 Then, with a vicious little smile, he 
 walked up to Maitland and said : " My 
 dear Maitland, if you really believe all this 
 nonsense why don't you give up all you 
 possess, and give to the poor, or some 
 equally Quixotic thing of that kind ? " 
 
 Maitland looked at him sorrowfully and 
 said : " The day may not be so far distant 
 when we shall be called even to that," and 
 he drew from his pocket a small circular, 
 on which were written these words : 
 
 Church of St. Mark and the Angels. 
 Lent Sermons. 
 
 The Rector will preach a Course of 
 Sermons, commencing on February 10. 
 
 Subject— " Shall zee not follow Christ 1 ' 
 
 94
 
 IN EXCELSIS 
 
 These Sermons are intended for those 
 Christians who wish to take a more 
 definite step towards the imitation of 
 their Master. 
 
 U
 
 IX 
 
 THE VENTURE 
 
 On February n, a month after the 
 events described in the last chapter, the 
 following appeared in the Morning 
 News : 
 
 Extraordinary Sermon at a Chelsea 
 Church. 
 
 A great sensation was caused yester- 
 day morning at the Church of St. 
 Mark and the Angels by a sermon 
 preached by the Hon. and Rev. Stephen 
 Remarx, the well-known Rector. The 
 very eccentric doctrines taught by this 
 gentleman have been for some time the 
 talk of London, but a climax was reached 
 
 yesterday, when he delivered the ex- 
 96
 
 the venture; 
 
 travagant discourse of which we give a 
 report below. It is expected that the 
 sermon, which contains the most advanced 
 doctrines of Socialism and Religious 
 Fanaticism, will lead to serious results. 
 In fact, it is reported that the patron, the 
 Marquis of St. Alphege, has already re- 
 quested Mr. Remarx to resign. 
 
 It may interest our readers to re- 
 call some facts concerning Mr. Remarx 
 and his family. His brother, the present 
 Earl Remarx, is little known, having 
 resided chiefly abroad, owing to financial 
 difficulties — difficulties which his more 
 fortunate brother does not share, having 
 been well provided for by his father, 
 and having every prospect of succeeding 
 to the vast real and personal property 
 of his uncle the Marquis of St. 
 Alphege, including the mansion in Chelsea 
 Square. 
 
 The living of St. Mark's is worth ^800 
 a year, a mere drop in the ocean when 
 compared with the wealth Mr. Remarx 
 already enjoys and will enjoy. 
 
 O 97
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 The above was followed by a report of 
 the sermon. But no verbatim report can 
 possibly convey to our readers a true idea 
 of the immense impression produced upon 
 the vast congregation who had assembled 
 to hear the first of Stephen's promised 
 Lenten discourses. Only those who were 
 present could at all appreciate it. Vesey 
 Maitland, who sat in a secluded corner of 
 the gallery and watched the proceedings, 
 has preserved some notes which are here 
 reproduced. 
 
 " It was not his eloquence," writes 
 Maitland, " which impressed us all that 
 morning, Stephen was never eloquent, 
 and on that day, perhaps, his words came 
 out less easily than usual. Much of it 
 was just blurted out in a stern voice, 
 though never brutally sarcastic, and always 
 with evident sympathy. He felt intensely 
 all he was saying ; it had all been care- 
 fully thought out and weighed before he 
 entered the pulpit, yet it was spoken 
 extempore. He held nothing but a New 
 
 Testament in his hand. He seemed to 
 98
 
 THE VENTURE 
 
 me to wish every one to feel : ' This 
 message is not mine, but God's ; if I seem 
 to wield a lash, it is for myself to smart as 
 well as you ; I know your difficulties, but 
 I must speak, even if it seem unkind. I 
 can keep it in no longer, the crisis of my 
 ministry has come ; woe is me if I preach . 
 not the Gospel.' 
 
 The text was from the Sermon on the 
 Mount, always his favourite passage of 
 Scripture, Ye are the light of the world. 
 A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid. 
 
 He began with a series of almost jerky 
 sentences, roughly put together, and 
 somewhat commonplace. 
 
 ' Our Lord,' he said, ' in another place 
 calls Himself the Light of the World. He 
 penetrates the soul of each man, lighting 
 up its dark corners, and show ing him his 
 sins ; and He shines outside him too, in 
 the darkness of the world, to guide him 
 on his way. But He is also socially 
 the Light of Men, the Light of a Nation, 
 a City, a Society such as this of ours io 
 West London. 
 
 99
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 1 He lights up the life of society, showing 
 it its weaknesses and sins ; and then, too, 
 outside He stands, the everlasting Lamp, 
 the perpetual Witness, clear and unmis- 
 takable, to show men how they ought to 
 live, bidding them come to Him and walk 
 in the light of His brilliant Presence. 
 Here is the Ideal for every nation, every 
 circle of human beings, to look up to and 
 from which to learn on what principles to 
 act and live. 
 
 'But, brethren, He does not say only 
 " I am the Light of the World," but, " Ye 
 are the light of the world." We 
 Christians, then, are to act upon the world 
 as our Master does. -The Church is to be 
 "a city set on a hill," a compact society of 
 human beings, having in themselves that 
 light-giving power which our Lord Him- 
 self has.' Then he plunged into the thick 
 of his message. 'This morning, my 
 friends, I am addressing myself definitely 
 to those who are professing Christians, 
 to those who, outwardly at any rate, 
 belong to that society which our Lord 
 no
 
 THE VENTURE 
 
 has placed in the world. I am going to 
 ask you some serious questions. 
 
 ' Are you the light of the world ? Your 
 Lord expects it of you. He expects you 
 to be showing an example to the rest of 
 the world. He expects you to be lighting 
 up the darkness, definitely showing this 
 thing and that thing to be evil, and con- 
 demning it as such by your words and 
 by your life. He calls on you, in a word, 
 to be separate from the world around you. 
 You are light ; the world is dark. You 
 are on a hill ; the world is below. 
 
 1 Let us suppose now that we are worldly 
 people, and let us take our stand and look 
 at these nominal Christians in this London 
 society of ours. Shall we find them so 
 very different from ourselves ? Shall we find 
 them standing out, separated from us, so 
 that we feel that we are in the dark and 
 they are in the light — that we are below 
 and they on a hill ? ' 
 
 It was at this point that the congrega- 
 tion seemed to realise that Stephen in- 
 tended that morning to bring his message 
 
 IOI
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 home very close to his hearers. It was 
 clear that no rhetoric was to be expected, 
 nothing that they could just admire as a 
 display of genius and then put aside as 
 having no meaning for practical purposes. 
 
 - Look at them ! ' cried Stephen — as if 
 he was really a leader of heathens, wishing 
 to learn by looking at us what true Chris- 
 tianity meant. « Look at them ! ' he said, 
 in a voice so earnest that many a man 
 trembled, like Felix of old, at the prospect, 
 of a 'righteousness' about to be revealed. 
 
 ' Look at them. Some of them are em- 
 ployers of labour — Christians, remember; 
 but what are they doing ? Surely they 
 cannot know that those poor girls whom 
 they employ are suffering disease from 
 their neglect ; surely they do not know 
 that the conditions under which their 
 workpeople live are such that they can 
 hardly be decent and certainly not happy ; 
 surely if they knew it, these "l : ghts of the 
 world," they would try to do something to 
 make things better. Some of them, agrin, 
 are business men ; Christians too, re- 
 
 132
 
 THE VENTURE 
 
 member, orthodox too, generous perhaps, 
 regular in church ; but we follow them on 
 Monday to their offices. We look up to 
 them for light and leading, we poor 
 dark, heathens, who want to know how to 
 live ; we find them beggaring their neigh- 
 bours, we find them not very careful about 
 the strict honesty and fairness of all their 
 dealings. We approach them and ask them 
 if they have forgotten Christ, and they 
 tell us that " business is business," and 
 " religion is only for Sunday." We look 
 again at some grandly dressed people ; we 
 remember that we knew them once when 
 they were poor ; we wonder how they 
 made their money ; we are told it was in 
 trade — in fact, they still draw their wealth 
 from trade. We ask them what sort of 
 trade it is ? what effect it has on the lives 
 of others ? We ask them whether it is 
 true that the dstrict in the poor part of 
 London where their public-houses chiefly 
 are is well known to be overstocked with 
 such places, and that the population 
 is cursed with drunkenness and misery? 
 
 103
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 They tell us that they have never in- 
 quired about it. We wonder somewhat 
 as we look for light from them. 
 
 1 Or again, we see some other rich per- 
 sons who, we are told, possess large 
 shares in several well-known companies. 
 We have heard reports of many grievances 
 which those employed by these companies 
 have got. We ask the shareholders if the 
 grievances are well-founded. They tell us 
 they do not know, and if they did know 
 they could do nothing. We suggest that 
 they might sell out. They stare and laugh, 
 and again we wonder. We turn to another 
 group; this time they are country gen- 
 tlemen. We have been told that the 
 labourers on their estates are earning a 
 miserable pittance, that they are expected 
 to keep their wives and children every 
 week on exactly the money which these 
 gentlemen spend on two bottles of 
 champagne. We ask them if this is true. 
 They tell us it always has been so, 
 that their fathers went to church and 
 did not think an alteiation was necessary, 
 
 t°4
 
 THE VENTURE 
 
 so why should they? We still wait for 
 light. 
 
 'Once again, my brethren, we follow 
 that crowd of young men round from 
 church to their club, and we inquire 
 who they are. Six of them are the eldest 
 sons of their parents. We are told they 
 do nothing all day, that they never work 
 because they have no need to do so. We 
 have read somewhere in the Bible that 
 " if any would not work, neither should 
 he eat," and we wonder again as we see 
 them sitting down to lunch.' 
 
 Under the excitement of conviction, 
 Stephen had almost forgotten himself — it 
 was the nearest approach to culpable sar- 
 casm in the sermon — if he had gone a 
 step further he would have not only failed 
 of his object by disgusting some of those 
 whose consciences he most wished to 
 quicken, but he would have offended his 
 own sense of humility, which he ever felt 
 most keenly, in the presence of the awful 
 problem. His countenance changed. He 
 paused. He seemed to be casting himself 
 
 *°5
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 upon God, and saying secretly : " O God, 
 what are we to do ? Show us, dear Saviour, 
 how we are to serve Thee ! Tell me, 
 now, my Master, what I must tell these 
 people." 
 
 Then he began again — 
 
 ' The light of the world ! Is it, then, a 
 sham and a delusion ? Are we to despair 
 and say, ' The standard is too high ; if 
 Christianity requires so much, we cannot 
 be Christians ? ' Are we, then, for the 
 most part hypocrites? No, my brothers 
 and sisters, rather we must sit at our 
 Lord's feet again, and hear Him say, 'With 
 men it is impossible, but with God all 
 things are possible.' Then with His help 
 we must set to work to light the lights 
 again. The light has gone out, or it is 
 obscured. It has got mingled with the 
 darkness. We are too much of the 
 world. 
 
 1 Now, I am not giving you the result of 
 
 a hasty and superficial survey of the 
 
 matter, but the result of thought and 
 
 prayer. Neither do I profess to have 
 
 1 06
 
 THE VENTURE 
 
 found out the answer to all the difficulty. 
 But such as I have I give you.' 
 
 Then he unfolded his scheme, without 
 sensation, without emotion, only with a 
 quiet, firm deliberateness, which showed 
 us that he really meant it. Had he spoken 
 now excitedly or with passion, it is possible 
 that hundreds might have been attracted 
 to him for the moment, but the falling 
 away would have been certain and exten- 
 sive. As it was, a few were drawn, and 
 those most seriously. 
 
 'This is my invitation,' he said. 'Some 
 of us must give up all we have. I repeat, 
 we must give up all we have. I do not 
 say that we are to take up our money in a 
 reckless way and throw it into the sea, nor 
 even that we are to give it all to a chari- 
 table institution. Rather, we are to take 
 our wealth and lay it at Christ's feet — give 
 it to Him to spend. All of it is to be 
 given to what is right and good. 
 
 'There is to be no fanaticism about this, 
 no wild rush into poverty or mendicancy. 
 That will never solve the social problem. 
 
 107
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 ' My idea is, that some few of us might 
 join together and give all our wealth into 
 a common fund to spend for Christ. 
 Wealth, moreover, does not simply mean 
 our ready cash ; it means all that wherewith 
 God has endowed us : our intellect, our 
 reason, our powers of mind and hand and 
 heart, our genius, ourselves. All should be 
 massed together and drawn from for the 
 benefit of our fellow-men. We will live to- 
 gether, some of us men, each will give him- 
 self for all : the artist will paint for others' 
 joy, the author will write for good, the priest 
 will preach and teach and minister grace ; 
 the student will think and read, the poli- 
 tician will use the strength of the Legis- 
 lature, so far as it will allow him, for the 
 work of Christ and the extension of His 
 kingdom; the poor man who has no t had 
 the advantage of education will join us, to 
 learn maybe, but also to teach us about 
 those with whom he has lived, so that we 
 may all get to know one another as 
 brothers, sons of the One Father. And 
 ibove all we will study God, we will 
 
 ic3
 
 THE VENTURE 
 
 strive to know what goodness and holi- 
 ness are, we will read over our Gospels 
 again and learn how to live. Then 
 perhaps we shall be lights. 
 
 ' Others there might be living more in 
 the world. Many of you have your wi rk, 
 which could not be done under such 
 conditions as these ; some of you have 
 homes you could not leave. You I would 
 bid to live in the world, and yet far more 
 strictly than at present, not of it. Shun 
 its spirit. Ask not, what do others do ? but 
 what does Christ bid me do ? Look well 
 again at the principles on which you 
 regulate your conduct. Brace them up 
 that they may come nearer to the 
 standard of your Lord ; look to your 
 honesty, your purity, your diligence. 
 
 ' None of us will find it easy. To follow 
 Christ must mean to walk again the way 
 of Calvary. It may mean giving up our 
 friends — many will refuse to walk with us ; 
 it may mean giving up our families, turn- 
 ing our backs even on our own flesh and 
 
 blood. It must mean giving up much 
 
 109
 
 STEPHEN REMARK 
 
 comfort and luxury, for a man clothed in 
 soft raiment and living in kings' palaces 
 cannot be a prophet. We shall certainly 
 be spoken against. Woe unto us if we 
 are not ! Come out, my brothers, and be 
 separate. " If any man will come after 
 Me, let him deny himself and take up his 
 Cross and follow Me. For whosoever 
 will save his life shall lose it : and whoso- 
 ever will lose his life for My sake shall 
 find it."' 
 
 u:
 
 X 
 
 SOME PASTORAL EPISTLES 
 
 In order to give a correct version ol 
 what passed between Stephen and the 
 Marquis at this eventful period of hij 
 career, it is best to reproduce the corre- 
 spondence itself. 
 
 Letter I. 
 
 From the Marquis to Stephen. 
 
 Dear Stephen, 
 
 The reports which have reached 
 me about your disgraceful behaviour in 
 the pulpit — a pulpit the occupation of 
 which you owe entirely to my liberality, 
 — leave me no alternative but to request 
 you to resign. I know I have no legal 
 power of compelling you to do this, but I 
 
 in
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 put it to your honour — if you have any left 
 I ask you, therefore to leave the benefice 
 vacant, and to give me the opportunity of 
 placing therein a clergyman whose ideas 
 of what a Christian is will more nearly 
 approach my own. I am writing to the 
 Bishop of London by this post. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 Saint Alphege. 
 (Dictated.) 
 
 P.S. — (From the Marchioness!) — I'm 
 awfully sorry about this, Ste, but the 
 Marquis is quite inexorable. I think if 
 you were to apologise and promise not to 
 be quite so prononc'e again, he would 
 cave in. Do take care of yourself, and 
 don't do anything foolish with this new 
 plan of yours. 
 
 Aunt Alf. 
 
 n»
 
 SOME PASTORAL EPISTLE 
 
 Letter II. 
 From the Marquis to the Bishop. 
 
 My dear Lord Bishop, 
 
 Reports may have already reached 
 your Lordship of the very disgraceful 
 conduct of my misguided nephew, the 
 Rector of St. Mark and the Angels. 
 I have been told that he preached a 
 sermon in which Socialism, Radicalism, 
 Anarchism, and every conceivable abomi- 
 nation were freely advocated. He pro- 
 poses to form some kind of society for the 
 propagation of these dangerous principles, 
 a course which I have no doubt your 
 Lordship will agree with me would imperil 
 the very existence of the Established 
 Church, and which I hope your Lordship 
 will absolutely forbid him to pursue. I 
 have written to Mr. Remarx, requesting 
 him, as a personal favour to me and to 
 prevent any unpleasantness, to resign the 
 living. I shall request your Lordship to 
 institute the Rev. Amos Bugsnorter to tha 
 
 H "3
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 living, who is at present the Duke of 
 Lundy's clergyman, a most earnest man, 
 and one in every way likely to restore 
 this unhappy parish to a state of peace 
 and quietness after this unfortunate dis- 
 turbance. 
 
 I am, my Lord, 
 
 Yours faithfully 
 
 Saint Allege. 
 (Dictated. ) 
 
 Letter III. 
 
 From the Hon. and Rev. Stephen 
 Remark to his Uncle. 
 
 Dear Uncle St. Alphege, 
 
 I beg to acknowledge your letter, 
 and to say that I already meditated doing 
 what you have asked me to do. I have 
 for some time felt that the particular 
 line of conduct which I am trying to 
 follow will make it difficult for me to give 
 sufficient attention to the proper working 
 of this enormous parish. I therefore beg 
 
 114
 
 SOME PASTORAL EPISTLES 
 
 to tender my resignation of the benefice 
 of St. Mark and the Angels. May I, 
 however, request as a great favour, that 
 you will appoint as my successor one who 
 will continue the many organisations for 
 the relief of the poor, etc., which I have, 
 by God's help, been allowed to start in 
 the parish during my incumbency. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Stephen Remarx. 
 
 P.S. — I think I should be shrinking 
 from my duty as a Christian minister 
 were I not to point out to you that your 
 conduct towards me is not in accordance 
 with your profession as a Christian. If 
 at any time you would wish to see me, 
 and to let me help you to follow out 
 your professed religion more effectually, I 
 
 shall be glad to call. 
 
 S. R. 
 
 >»5
 
 XI 
 
 PROGRESS 
 
 The London season was over. The Park 
 was nearly empty. On a seat near the 
 Achilles statue sat Paul Durnford and 
 John Oxenham. Our friend Paul had 
 only that afternoon returned from a 
 journey on the Continent, whither he had 
 been sent by his Library Commissioners 
 on literary business. 
 
 " And now that we are seated, John, 
 tell me how it's all going on," said Paul. 
 " I have been out of everything. With the 
 exception of a curiously garbled version 
 of the celebrated sermon in Galigiiani, 
 and a rambling account of the new society 
 which was given me by a Roman Catholic 
 student at St. Cyr called Denholme, I 
 have really heard nothing about it. First 
 of all, tell me, how is our dear Stephen." 
 
 116
 
 PROGRESS 
 
 " Oh, he's first-rate, only a little tired 
 after all the bother of getting us fairly 
 launched ; but, please God, we are all 
 going for a little rest to the sea soon," 
 said John. 
 
 " How many are there of you ?" asked 
 Paul. 
 
 "Only six at present of the 'regulars.' 
 You will make the seventh of course, and 
 then there are some hundreds of the other 
 kind ; but I had better explain. First of 
 all, you must know that almost imme- 
 diately after Stephen had delivered his 
 sermon, the Marquis of St. Alphege 
 called upon him to resign, which he did, 
 St. Mark's Church was given to an 
 old clergyman called Bugsnorter, who 
 managed in three Sundays to almost com- 
 pletely empty it. On the third Sunday of 
 his incumbency he delivered his sermon 
 to his family (who occupied, I think, 
 three pews), and the Bible-woman. 
 
 But I must tell you about Stephen. 
 For the first few days after the sermon he 
 was beset by everv kind of person. News- 
 
 "7
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 paper interviewers came in crowds, but 
 were never suffered to pass the threshold. 
 Nevertheless, the Piccadilly Gazette man- 
 aged to fill two columns with a ' Chat 
 with John the Baptist,' while the Monthly 
 of Monthlies gave a ' Character Sketch,' 
 which revealed the fact that the editor had 
 known Stephen from his childhood, and 
 had practically inspired him with all his 
 ideas. I don't think Stephen minded the 
 papers much, except perhaps the report 
 in the Meteor, which pained him. It was 
 headed : ' Chucked out of Chelsea. The 
 Parson and the Peer. Parson Remarx 
 passes remarks. The Marquis does not 
 like it, and chucks him out of a fat livine.' 
 Then there must have been at least 300 
 people who came and offered to belong 
 to the Society whenever it should be 
 formed. This proves, what at one time I 
 should have doubted, that there are very 
 large numbers of rich people who are 
 anxious to serve Our Lord and His poor, 
 and who only want to be shewn the way. 
 
 Yes. Durnford, if I had my life over again 
 zi8
 
 PROGRESS 
 
 I would cut out my tongue rather than 
 talk against the rich as I used to do. 
 Often and often have I borne false witness 
 against my neighbour. The truth is, wc 
 are all the same, poor and rich, very feeble 
 imitators of Our Master. Henceforth let 
 us lay aside mutual recriminations and 
 work together for the common good. 
 Yet we only have six members at 
 present. This fact alone will show you 
 how strict Stephen has been. It is the 
 poverty which chokes them off. Nobody 
 is allowed to possess a penny. All our 
 money is in one common fund, and it is 
 dealt wkh only at the will of the six 
 members, who meet together every day to 
 settle what to do. About half is sent to 
 home and foreign missions, and the rest 
 is spent on our work. As you may 
 imagine, I did not contribute much, but I 
 am giving myself and all my energy to the 
 work, and I can tell you it's much harder 
 than dock labour. Others of us, of 
 course, contributed large sums. Stephen 
 himself was rich, and so was Maitland. 
 
 119
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 He is the Radical M.P. for one of 
 the East-end districts, but he lives with 
 us, going down to the House every day 
 during the session. He has been doing 
 splendid work with the new Factory Bill 
 this last session. He had a large estate 
 in Wiltshire, and he was doubtful for a 
 time whether he ought not to go and look 
 after it, but eventually he thought it best 
 to sell it to a Christian purchaser, one of 
 the 'irregular army,' as we call them, Lord 
 Mount Pleasant. 
 
 "The other three of us are the Duke 
 of Dalston, Frank Newton, and Doctor 
 Probyn. The Duke has sold all his pos- 
 sessions, and has made over his London 
 property to his mother. He was able to 
 effect this transaction because his father 
 died just before he came of age, and he 
 had a free hand to do as he liked with 
 the estate. We look after the houses, and 
 see that they are all as they should be, 
 and the rents are collected by us for the 
 Duchess. 
 
 " Frank is the sweetest person in the 
 
 120
 
 PROGRESS 
 
 world. He is a painter. To look at him 
 is to know what love is. The work he is 
 doing down in South London for churches 
 and schools and the people's homes is 
 quite wonderful. You may ask, perhaps, 
 what he has given up for Christ. He has 
 given up the prospect of being one of the 
 greatest men of our time in a worldly 
 sense. He would probably have been an 
 A.R.A. next year, and as he is only nine- 
 teen years old, you can see that he was on 
 the way to what men call greatness. 
 
 " Then there is Doctor Probyn. You 
 know his name, I suppose. He was the 
 fashionable physician. Now we call him 
 Luke. His practice is now entirely in the 
 slums. The money he earns goes, of 
 course, into our fund. 
 
 "Now, I must tell you of a most im- 
 portant thing that happened within a few 
 weeks of our start. The Marquis of St. 
 Alphege died. By his will it was found 
 that he had deprived Stephen of almost 
 everything, and had left it to his grand 
 nephew, who lives in Manitoba. Curiously, 
 
 121
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 however, he left Stephen the big house. 
 Stephen believes that this piece of gene- 
 rosity was due to the entreaties of his 
 aunt, the Marchioness, who I must tell 
 you has become an altered woman now, 
 and is one of the 'irregulars.' 
 
 " The house was, of course, just what we 
 wanted. The property would have been 
 an encumbrance. It is in this house we 
 live. Fancy my living in a lord's West- 
 t end mansion ! But it is not much like a 
 mansion now. 
 
 " We six live in the top part of the house, 
 in what used to be the servants' bed- 
 rooms. We have one room each, no car- 
 pet, no curtains, and a simple little bed. 
 The whole of the rest of the house, with 
 the exception of some spare rooms which 
 we are keeping unfurnished, is given to 
 the people. The large drawing-rooms 
 are still kept as reception-rooms. Here 
 we hold our parties twice a week. Any- 
 one can come : rich and poor meet to- 
 gether. 
 
 " What wonderful transactions take place 
 
 T22
 
 PROGRESS 
 
 there week by week ! Only last night 
 there was the Earl of Cumborough 
 making up a beautiful little arrangement 
 with that clever Jack Burdon, the pupil 
 teacher, to pay for the whole of his 
 education at Oxford ; while Lady Merthyr 
 was organising a visit of the factory girls 
 to Merthyr Castle for three weeks in 
 September. The other rooms are used 
 for all kinds of purposes. The ' irregu- 
 lars ' come and work there of an even- 
 ing, some holding classes, some just 
 reading a book with the men and boys. 
 The library is still used for its original 
 purpose, or rather it now fulfils its pur- 
 pose, which it never did before. I some- 
 times wonder what the old Marquis would 
 say if he came back to life and saw our 
 young men sitting in his library and read- 
 ing his books. 
 
 "The coach house is used as a gymna- 
 sium, and the kitchen for cookery classes. 
 The billiard-room and conservatory, at the 
 end of the garden, which form a separate 
 
 house, is now our hospital, where Dr. 
 
 123
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 Probyn looks after his little ones. Two 
 sisters of charity live there to attend to 
 the sick children. I must not forget the 
 chapel, where every day we receive the 
 Sacrament, and where for an hour each 
 morning Stephen expounds to us the 
 Gospel." 
 
 "Tell me something more about the 
 ' irregular ' army," said Paul Durnford. 
 
 " Well," said Oxenham, " they number 
 about two hundred and fifty. They 
 belong to every class and profession. 
 You would hardly believe it, but Joe 
 Binks is one of them. Dr. Probyn saved 
 his wife's life, and that was too much for 
 Joe. She was more precious to him than 
 Cain's wife, and he gave up Bible smash- 
 ing, and became a Christian, and a 
 thorough one too. Then there are 
 lawyers and stockbrokers, doctors and 
 soldiers; any one, in fact, who will solemnly 
 promise to keep Christ's law in the midst 
 of this wicked world, and to do some 
 practical work for his fellow-men. We've 
 gut some of those poor eldest sons among 
 124
 
 PROGRESS 
 
 them, and they are doing their best, 
 though it's very hard. Three of them are 
 going to look after our boys at Clovelly 
 next month, instead of shooting grouse ; 
 and if that's not religion, I don't know 
 what is." 
 
 " Have you any definite rule for them ? 
 How do you keep them in continuous 
 touch with your work ? " asked Paul. 
 
 "They are bound by one rule besides 
 the promises, and that is, to stay at least a 
 fortnight with us during the year. During 
 that time they will talk matters over with 
 us and we shall give each other advice as 
 to how to act in a Christian way in the 
 world, and how to spend money in the 
 best way." 
 
 " But," said Paul, "do not some of 
 them find it very difficult to keep their 
 promises." 
 
 "Very difficult indeed," said Oxenham. 
 "A country gentleman who fills his house 
 with university extension students instead 
 of partridge shooters finds himself cut 
 by the county ; a fishmonger who has 
 
 125
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 begun to tell the truth about the freshness 
 of his fish to his customers has lost half 
 his custom : a pawnbroker, too, has found 
 his profits declining because he has been 
 giving people the true value of the goods 
 which they bring to pledge. But the 
 best case of all is that of Mr. Dyvese, a 
 brother of the late Sir Henry, whom he 
 succeeded as Chairman of the Match 
 Company. He is one of our ' irregulars,' 
 and he went on in such a way about the 
 poor girls that he was called upon to 
 resign, and he did so." 
 
 " Do you find that many of the ' irre- 
 gulars ' give it up after a bit ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Oxenham, "a few do. 
 Lady Sapphira, a married lady, began 
 well, but she hardly caught the spirit of 
 the thing, and gave it up. Sir Simon 
 Maggs, too, was a great one at it for a 
 short time, but we found he wanted to 
 make it a commercial concern, and so we 
 were obliged to tell him that he must 
 
 go-" 
 '* Is it too soon, John, to say if any effect 
 ir6
 
 PROGRESS 
 
 is being produced on society at large by 
 what you are doing ? " asked Durnford. 
 
 " My dear Durnford," said Oxenham, "I 
 don't altogether like your question; in fact, 
 it is against our rules to trouble ourselves 
 about results. We must be content to 
 go on until we die, even if nothing sub- 
 stantial seems to come of it. Think of 
 the Master dying on the Cross, deserted 
 by all His friends and seemingly a failure. 
 This much I will say because He has told 
 us not to be surprised if the world hates 
 us. We are awfully hated. I believe there 
 are some who would almost kill us if they 
 dared. I am told that things have been 
 said against us in ballrooms and at dinner 
 parties. I have heard people laughing at 
 us as we walk along the street, and on two 
 occasions men spat in Stephen's face. 
 But we take no notice. Neither do we 
 attempt to answer the misrepresentation of 
 the Press. At first the papers looked 
 upon us as material for sensational 
 ' copy.' That passed off, and then began 
 
 a ' correspondence.' We have been de- 
 
 127
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 scribed as Lunatics, Jesuits, Jumpers, 
 Vagabonds, and Anarchists, but we never 
 reply. No, we go on silently. It is better, 
 Besides, it is more like Christ." 
 
 i*
 
 XII 
 
 JUDGMENT 
 
 Stephen and his friends did not call their 
 Society by any name. 
 
 Accordingly, Mr. Whittaker was not 
 able to secure for them a place among his 
 250 different sects side by side with the 
 Quakers and the followers of Johanna 
 Southcott. In " high society " they were 
 known as the " Remarkables," and many 
 a wild rumour went round concerning 
 them. At a Foreign Office "crush" you 
 might hear some languid " Johnnie " 
 saying to a fair debutante : " I say, 
 
 Miss , have you heard the latest about 
 
 those ' Remarkables ' ? They feed on 
 fourpence a day and flog each other every 
 morning. 'Pon my word, I've a good 
 mind to join them myself, if only to save 
 
 1 129
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 my bills-, though I should nol like the cat 
 
 o' nine tails." " Oh ! fancy you, Mr. ■ 
 
 in a long cloak like Mr. Remarx — oh ! how 
 funny ! " Or one might hear an old 
 dowager lamenting the new departure in 
 religion to her companion on the sofa : 
 " I call it flying in the face of Providence 
 to go out of the world like that. Surely 
 the good gifts of the earth were meant to 
 be enjoyed. To think of that dear Duke 
 of Dalston giving up all his possessions — 
 it's a blasphemy, that's what it is. And 
 as for that ' irregular army ' or whatever 
 they call themselves, I think they are 
 the worst of the lot. They're a positive 
 nuisance, interfering with their absurd 
 maxims and precepts every five minutes. 
 Lent sermons at St. Paul's, Knightsbridge, 
 are bad enough for six weeks ; but when it 
 comes to 'You must' not do this,' and 
 1 You must not do that,' all the year 
 round, it's cruel. Besides, I think it's 
 most improper to have religion introduced 
 at a dinner-table. The other day I was 
 
 dining at the Duchess of Lundy's, and 
 
 130
 
 JUDGMENT 
 
 there were no less than six of these 
 eccentric creatures there, and their 
 carryings-on were simply scandalous. 
 One man went on saying his grace a 
 long time after the Duke had finished it. 
 You know the beautiful way the Duke 
 says grace. He just says ' Praised ' and 
 then we all begin dessert. And then 
 none of these goody-goodies would laugh 
 when the Duchess told that exceedingly 
 funny story of the Manners-Gigby divorce 
 oase. I call it so rude not to laugh at 
 your hostess' stories. And then one of 
 them actually had the effrontery to tell 
 somebody point-blank to his face that 
 some of the words he used were not fit 
 to be spoken by a Christian. Really, 
 Society will be unbearable if this kind 
 of thing is allowed to go on much longer. 
 I wish somebody would speak to the 
 Bishop of London, or the Lord Chamber- 
 lain, or some one of that kind, and get 
 it put down." 
 
 The following report of the first chapter 
 meeiing of the whole Society, held within 
 
 131
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 a year from its foundation, will convey a 
 good idea of the progress of its work and 
 the difficulties it has had to contend with. 
 The report is written by Frank Newton 
 the artist, and is contained in a private 
 manuscript which was not originally in- 
 tended for publication. I am, unfortu- 
 nately, not able to reproduce the pen and 
 ink illustrations which adorn the report. 
 Some of them are extremely clever, 
 notably the frontispiece, which I think is 
 intended to depict the triumph of Religion 
 over Belgravia. 
 
 Extracts from Frank's Report. 
 
 "Stephen is in the chair. Over his 
 head hangs that sweet picture, 'Come 
 unto Me.' We have said our prayers. 
 Shall I ever forget that ' Veni Creator,' 
 that ' Magnificat,' that Creed, or that 
 ' Our Father,' rising like a great battle-cry 
 to God ? As we said ' Thy will be done 
 on earth as it is in Heaven,' it seemed to 
 me that sympathetic seraphs filled the 
 
 room and sang ' Amen.' 
 132
 
 JUDGMENT 
 
 " Then each of the brothers and sisters 
 gave testimony and experience of living 
 the Christian life in the midst of the 
 world. First came the clergy. Theit 
 chief enemies seemed to be their rela- 
 tions and their Squires. ' I never quite 
 knew before,' said one priest, 'why it 
 might be necessary to hate one's father 
 and mother. Since I began to lead a 
 poor life, sharing my dinner often with 
 those who are badly off, I have had 
 nothing but furious persecution from my 
 relations. I am told that I am mad, and 
 fit only to be shut up in an asylum. In 
 fact, I have found it necessary to keep 
 from going to my home in order to avoid 
 quarrels. My Squire, too, has withdrawn all 
 his subscriptions from the church because 
 I was present at a meeting of the Agricul- 
 tural Labourers' Union, and spoke in 
 favour of an attempt to call attention to 
 their crying grievances, and also because 
 I lent the National schoolroom to the 
 Gladstonian candidate, and asked him to 
 remove his high pew, which he seldom uses, 
 
 i33
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 in order to make room for some more seats 
 for the poor.' The poor town clergy seemed 
 to have fared no better. One of them read 
 out some letters which he had received 
 from old supporters who had withdrawn 
 their aid because of his attitude towards 
 the Women Workers' movement. ' You 
 seem to me,' wrote one of his corre- 
 spondents, 'to completely misunderstand 
 your duties as a minister. You have no 
 concern whatever with these matters. 
 Your business is to lead men to be 
 content with their wages, and to look 
 forward to a brighter land hereafter.' 
 
 " The next to render their account 
 were the professional men. The lawyers 
 seemed to be getting on happily, but the 
 stockbrokers were in despair. Their life 
 in the light of an earnest following of 
 Christ appeared to be made up of ghastly 
 fictions and unreal bargaining. Three of 
 them expressed their wish to leave their 
 occupation and to take to something else. 
 The doctors and dentists, singers and 
 actors, too. seemed uneasy about the 
 
 134
 
 JUDGMENT 
 
 fees, and Stephen was asked to appoint a 
 sub-committee to inquire into the ethics 
 of proportionate reward. Then came the 
 business men. One aged employer gave 
 us a simple and humble account of how 
 he had six months before, for the first time 
 in his life, taken the trouble to visit and to 
 get to know those who worked for him. 
 The revelations of the life that some of 
 them led had induced him to completely 
 change the conduct of the trade. He 
 was rebuilding the workshops and pro- 
 viding every facility for the health and 
 happiness of his people. They were 
 allowed a time for recreation every day, 
 and he closed early twice a week. Gym- 
 nasia had been erected for the boys and 
 girls, and reading-rooms for all. He had 
 never realised before that drawing-rooms 
 were desirable for any but the upper and 
 middle classes. Every single man, woman 
 and child in his employ was now received 
 at his private house, and they were fast 
 making real friends with his own family. 
 The profits of the business had gone down 
 
 13s
 
 STEPHEN RKMARX 
 
 three per cent., and lie had had to refuse 
 to give his daughter a grand piano for her 
 wedding present ; but he thanked God all 
 the same. 
 
 "Other employers gave similar testi- 
 mony. Many, too, showed how by ' con- 
 ciliation ' they were warding off labour 
 troubles among their men. and were 
 getting to know them and understand 
 them better. 
 
 "The tradesmen came next, with an 
 
 appalling exposure of the 'tricks of the 
 
 nv.de.' They told how the sugar and tea 
 
 were adulterated, the milk starehed, the 
 
 cloth shoddied, the butter larded, the beer 
 
 watered (and worse), the coffee chicoried, 
 
 and the houses jerry-built. They told how 
 
 the girls were bullied and the boys made 
 
 to tell falsehoods and cheat with the 
 
 weights ; they told how the women were 
 
 1 sweated ' and underpaid. All this and 
 
 much more that was sinful they had 
 
 sworn to give up for Christ's sake ; and 
 
 now, in a purer atmosphere and with 
 
 cleaner hands, though perhaps with 
 136
 
 JUDGMENT 
 
 declining profits, they, too, thanked 
 God. 
 
 " The rest told like talcs of brave re- 
 nunciations and open confessions of 
 Christ before men. The country gentle- 
 men spoke of cottages rebuilt, and allot- 
 ments let, and village clubs organised, 
 and drawing rooms and dining rooms 
 opened to the poor, and comforts for the 
 agi d. 'I he young men told how they 
 had learnt to work for others' good and to 
 despise an idle day." 
 
 "Then Stephen rose to make his final 
 speech, of which these are only some 
 notes : 
 
 " ' Dear sisters and brothers in the Lord, 
 I do thank our God and Father for what 
 we have heard to-day. Yours are brave 
 lives, braver and harder than those which 
 we live here in Alphege House. We 
 have our temptations it is true, but they 
 are not so terrible as yours. Let me 
 comfort you with the words of our ador- 
 able Master: "Marvel not my brethren if 
 the world hate you. Ye know that it 
 
 '37
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 hated Me before it hated you. Blessed 
 are ye when men shall hate you, and 
 when they shall separate you from their 
 company, and shall reproach you, and 
 cast out your name as evil, for the Son of 
 Man's sake. Rejoice ye in that day and 
 leap for joy." Yes, you are treading 
 where the saints have trod. Only 
 remember, your lives will not get easier 
 as time goes on. It is an uphill path, the 
 path to the Cross. The world will go on 
 scoffing, the suffering will increase. But 
 take it up, offer it a willing sacrifice to 
 Him who made you. Possibly it might 
 be better if some of you were to join your 
 lives and works together. If, for example, 
 you employers who are Christians would 
 give employment to others who want to 
 live a good life too ; if some of these poor 
 persecuted boys and girls could work for 
 you, you would help each other to be 
 Christ-like. In this way the Church 
 would become more in reality what she 
 is in theory, the home of Christ-loving 
 people, the refuge from the storms of 
 138
 
 JUDGMENT 
 
 Satan, founded on the "Rock of 
 Ages." 
 
 " ' Never forget that the motto of our 
 brotherhood is " Be ye followers of Christ." 
 We know not what misfortunes may be 
 coming upon us. This may be the last 
 time we shall meet together in this world. 
 But go bravely on. If any fall away, do 
 not despair. Remain firm, if only a few 
 are left. The Lord be with you.' 
 
 "This is all I can remember of what he 
 said, but his face — I see it still : it shone 
 like the face of an angel. 
 
 u Frank Newton." 
 
 136
 
 xm 
 
 ON THE FEAST OF STEPHEN 
 
 It was a Christmas night of the old- 
 fashioned type. London was wrapped in 
 snow. Few people were in the streets, for 
 all who were able were wisely occupied 
 indoors with snapdragon, mistletoe, holly, 
 and mince-pies. Poor old Snivel was 
 trudging along the Thames Embankment. 
 He had left his home in the Borough, 
 where poor little Kittie lay sick, that he 
 might try and pick up a few coppers round 
 the big hotels at Charing Cross. " There's 
 a gran' ball on to night at the 'Cos- 
 mopolly,' " his wife had told him. She had 
 heard it from Tim Tittles the crossing- 
 sweeper. " Maybe you'll get summut for 
 callin' the nobses' cabs." So the poor old 
 fellow had put on his crazy hat and 
 
 I4C
 
 ON THE FEAST OF STEPHEN 
 
 sallied forth. He was seventy-nine years 
 old ; he had no shirt ; all he could call his 
 own was his chronic asthma and the 
 " brownkiters." 
 
 Sir Humphrey Juniper had been born 
 on the same day as old Snivel, nine-and- 
 seventy years before, and he had chronic 
 asthma too, but on that Christmas night 
 he was safely ensconced in his villa at 
 Monaco. There was no snow to bother 
 him, and no sick grand-daughter to worry 
 him, and every prospect of plenty for 
 breakfast next morning. And yet he was 
 not really as happy as the old Borough 
 " cad," for Sir Humphrey had a pricking 
 conscience. He had that morning refused 
 to help his widowed sister, whose sons 
 were a trouble to her. She had written to 
 ask for a little Christmas box and the 
 Baronet had answered "No." 
 
 Ah, yes, old Snivel was the happier, in 
 spite of the snow, as he walked to Charing 
 Cross. 
 
 " I must go and listen to the Sisters 
 before I go to mv work," said the old man 
 
 141
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 to himself. It was his little bit of seasonable 
 pleasure. For the last three Christmases 
 he had stood outside the " Hostel of the 
 Holy Child " and listened to the Sister 
 as they chanted their night office. " Ain't 
 it just nice ? " he asked himself as he leant 
 against the lamp-post while the hymn was 
 wafted out to him on the crisp, cold air : 
 
 " Come and behold Him, born the King 
 of Angels ; 
 Oh come ye, oh come ye to Bethlehem." 
 
 " I'd like to go to Bethlem," said the old 
 man. ' Oh my ! ain't it cold ? I'd like 
 to see that Child they talk of. I s'pose 
 that's his picture,"' he said faintly as he 
 looked up at the gateway of the Hostel, on 
 which was sculptured the baby face of the 
 King of Kings in His holy mother's arms. 
 " I wish, I wish I could see that Child." 
 And then old Snivel tottered and fell into 
 the arms of a man in a black cloak. 
 
 " Hold my stick, Vesey," said Stephen, 
 "or I shall drop him. He'll soon be all 
 right. It's only the cold. Why, look at 
 142
 
 ON THE FEAST OF STEPHEN 
 
 the poor old chap, he has got no shirt on. 
 A nice sort of Christmas he's having." 
 
 Maitland and Stephen Remarx (for it 
 was they who rescued Snivel) were 
 returning from a visit to Rotherhithe. 
 They had been spending the day and 
 night previous in a pestilential slum in 
 that neighbourhood, where the influenza 
 was raging. They were both thoroughly 
 tired out, especially Stephen, and were 
 looking forward with almost boyish 
 delight to a late Christmas supper at 
 Alphege House. But it was not to be. 
 ''Frank and Jack, the Doctor and the 
 Duke, will have to wait," said Stephen. 
 " We must take the old man home." 
 
 " Where do you live ? " said Vesey, for 
 Snivel had come to himself by this time. 
 
 " Padarice Terras," he replied, " in the 
 Burrer." 
 
 "Paradise I suppose he- means," said 
 Stephen. (i I wonder who the fiend was 
 who called all these dreadful places .by 
 such pretty names. All right, old man, I 
 know where it is. We'll take you home. 
 
 143
 
 STEPHEN REMARK 
 
 I'm sorry we can't call a cab, but we've 
 got no money ; so we'll carry you." 
 
 " Be you from Bethlem ? " said the old 
 man, his mind still running on the hymn. 
 
 " No, from Rotherhithe," said Stephen, 
 smiling. " But come along, it's striking 
 twelve by Big Ben, and we must get to 
 Paradise today. Here, put my cloak 
 round him, Vesey." 
 
 So they took him home. 
 
 There was Christmas joy that midnight 
 after all in Paradise Terrace. If he did 
 not see the Child Plimself, the old man saw 
 something very much like Him in those 
 two friends, the parson and the Member 
 of Parliament. 
 
 Poor little Kitty almost revived at the 
 sight of the kindness her grandfather wets 
 receiving. 
 
 " We'll take you in the morning to our 
 Children's Hospital,'" said Stephen ; " good 
 Doctor Probyn will come and fetch you. 
 And you two old people," he continued, 
 turning to Snivel and his wife, " you must 
 lrve here no longer • you are past work, 
 144
 
 ON THE FEAST OF {STEPHEN 
 
 and I know you don't want to go to the 
 ' House'; but I have got a kind lady who 
 has just opened an Almshouse, a real 
 'Paradise Terrace' down in Kent. She 
 will take you in next week, and meantime 
 .ve'll make you comfortable. Wait a 
 minute — I'll be back directly." And 
 Stephen slammed the creaking door be- 
 hind him. 
 
 A quarter of an hour later he returned. 
 "Here, missus," he said, "here's nine- 
 pence to get your breakfast with." 
 
 " Hullo, Stephen, where did you get 
 that from ? " asked Vesey in surprise. 
 
 "Never you mind," said Stephen ; and 
 then in a whisper he added: " I knocked 
 up old Cheetham, a relation of mine, and 
 he gave me ninepence on my shirt and 
 waistcoat." 
 
 " But, my dear fellow, you'll be so cold." 
 
 " Never mind," said Stephen, though he 
 shivered as he spoke. " I have got my 
 cloak, and besides, if old Snivel can do 
 without a shirt, why can't I ? Come along, 
 V., we'll soon be home." 
 
 K 14 =
 
 STEPHEN REMARX 
 
 They hurried over Blackfriars Bridge as 
 *he cathedral clock struck four. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The last of the dancers was at that 
 moment bidding " Good-bye " to his hosts 
 at the " Hotel Cosmopole.'' 
 
 "A rippin' good ball I call it, old 
 chappy. Ta, ta, Harry ! Ta, ta, Arthur ! " 
 
 It was Captain Deadly who spoke, and 
 our old friends Lord Arthur and Lord 
 Henry who answered " Good-bye." 
 
 " I say it's quite hot in here," said Lord 
 Arthur, " in spite of the cold outside. 
 Let's open the window in the supper-room 
 and sit there a bit before we turn in, Harry." 
 
 "By George, I wouldn't care to sleep 
 out there to-night," said Henry, looking 
 towards the Embankment. 
 
 " Oh that's all rot," said Arthur. " It was 
 only old Booth, who had a nightmare and 
 thought he saw some poor devils out on 
 the riverside ; but it wasn't true — at least 
 the papers said not." 
 
 " I'm not so sure about that " said 
 Henry, dubiously. 
 
 "Well, I'm blowed !" said Lord Arthur, 
 146
 
 ON THE FEAST OF STEPHEN 
 
 with an oath, suddenly. " Do you see those 
 two fellows coming along there by the 
 lamp post? Now, I'll eat my hat if they 
 aren't that canting idiot, Remarx, and that 
 beast, Maitland." 
 
 "Are you sure?" said Henry. 
 
 " Yes ; I should know them a mile off. 
 Look — they're by the lamp now. Yes, 
 it is they. You cursed, canting " 
 
 "Don't talk like that, Arthur," remon- 
 strated Henry. 
 
 " I'll just remind them of my presence, 
 though," said Arthur, gathering up some 
 snow from the window-sill. " Look here, 
 Harry, be sure and shut it down directly 
 I've shied this. Here goes ! " 
 
 Blinded for the moment, and losing 
 his balance, Stephen fell into the road- 
 way. A shout from the driver of a cart 
 rang out on the still morning air. It was 
 too late. The wheel went over him. 
 * * * * 
 
 "It's a cruel business," said Doctor 
 Probyn an hour later, as he sat by the 
 bedside of the unconscious Stephen in 
 the " Hostel of the Holy Child." 
 
 i47
 
 STEPHEN REMARK 
 
 They were kneeling round his bed, 
 those six men who had followed him, and 
 with him had found their Lord. Who can 
 describe the cloud of dark sadness that was 
 then descending upon their loving hearts, 
 as it became only too evident that 
 Stephen had received a fatal injury. 
 The earnest face of Oxenham was turned 
 towards him. Tears trickled down his 
 firm and manly countenance. He could 
 not speak : he could only gaze, and 
 think of all that he owed of life and light 
 to that poor sufferer upon the bed. Ah 
 what a debt it was ! All the inspiration 
 of his life, all that new vigour that had 
 lately come into his work for humanity, 
 all that hope for the present and future of 
 God's earth and people, all that intense 
 insight into the importance and reality 
 and issues and meanings of things which 
 comes from faith in the Incarnation of 
 the Son of God— all this he owed to 
 Stephen. And then for Paul Durnford, 
 what an awful hour was this ! Was he 
 really going to be bereft of that presence 
 which since the old Oxford days had 
 148
 
 ON THE FEAST OF STEPHEN 
 
 been his greatest joy and strength ? He 
 
 thought of a day some ten years back 
 
 when, in Magdalen Gardens, Stephen had 
 
 walked with him and spoken of the Deity 
 
 of Christ. Paul at that time was afflicted 
 
 with doubts and difficulties, and it was his 
 
 friend who had brought him out of 
 
 darkness into light. He had fought his 
 
 way through mists and fogs to the day of 
 
 faith, and it was Stephen who had been 
 
 his leader under God. 
 
 Or Maitland, or Frank, or the Duke — 
 
 what of them? Each in his different way 
 
 had been brought under the influence of 
 
 this strangely holy man. Each had learnt 
 
 something from his wonderful enthusiasm; 
 
 each had caught something of his genius 
 
 for self-sacrifice. And the Doctor too : he 
 
 thought of a former occasion on which he 
 
 had stood by Stephen's sick-bed, and in the 
 
 contemplation of his superhuman patience 
 
 and perfect self-control in agony had learnt 
 
 that something of the heroism of Calvary 
 
 may still be reproduced in Christ's own 
 
 soldiers who believe in Him. 
 
 My God, my God ! " said Vesey on 
 
 149
 
 vSTEPHEN REMAkX 
 
 his knees, " if only for one moment, let 
 him speak to us. I cannot, I dare not 
 live without him. Stephen," cried the 
 poor fellow in his anguish, "Stephen, my 
 brother, my dearest, dearest brother ! " 
 
 There was an awful silence, broken only 
 by the fitful breathing of the dying priest. 
 
 " Open the door," said the Doctor; "he 
 wants air." 
 
 " Will the music disturb him ? " whis- 
 pered the Sister ; " they are singing the 
 Eucharist in the chapel." 
 
 " No," said Doctor Probyn, " he has 
 almost joined the Choir." 
 
 She opened the door, and there arose 
 from the chapel below the soothing mono- 
 tone of the Day's Epistle : 
 
 " And they stoned Stephen, calling 
 upon God, and saying : ' Lord Jesus, 
 receive my spirit.' And he kneeled down, 
 and cried with a loud voice : ' Lord, lay 
 not this sin to their charge.' And when he 
 had said this, he fell asleep." 
 
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