The Inside of the Cup — Complete. Winston Churchill

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СКАЧАТЬ me to leave Bremerton.”

      “Exactly,” agreed the banker. “The parish, I believe, is in good running order—I do not think you will see the necessity for many—ahem—changes. But we sadly needed an executive head. And, if I may say so, Mr. Hodder, you strike me as a man of that type, who might have made a success in a business career.”

      The rector smiled again.

      “I am sure you could pay me no higher compliment,” he answered.

      For an instant Eldon Parr, as he stared at the clergyman, tightened his lips—lips that seemed peculiarly formed for compression. Then they relaxed into what resembled a smile. If it were one, the other returned it.

      “Seriously,” Mr. Parr declared, “it does me good in these days to hear, from a young man, such sound doctrine as you preach. I am not one of those who believe in making concessions to agnostics and atheists. You were entirely right, in my opinion, when you said that we who belong to the Church—and of course you meant all orthodox Christians—should stand by our faith as delivered by the saints. Of course,” he added, smiling, “I should not insist upon the sublapsarian view of election which I was taught in the Presbyterian Church as a boy.”

      Hodder laughed, but did not interrupt.

      “On the other hand,” Mr. Parr continued, “I have little patience with clergymen who would make religion attractive. What does it amount to—luring people into the churches on one pretext or another, sugar-coating the pill? Salvation is a more serious matter. Let the churches stick to their own. We have at St. John's a God-fearing, conservative congregation, which does not believe in taking liberties with sound and established doctrine. And I may confess to you, Mr. Hodder, that we were naturally not a little anxious about Dr. Gilman's successor, that we should not get, in spite of every precaution, a man tinged with the new and dangerous ideas so prevalent, I regret to say, among the clergy. I need scarcely add that our anxieties have been set at rest.”

      “That,” said Hodder, “must be taken as a compliment to the dean of the theological seminary from which I graduated.”

      The financier stared again. But he decided that Mr. Hodder had not meant to imply that he, Mr. Parr, was attempting to supersede the dean. The answer had been modest.

      “I take it for granted that you and I and all sensible men are happily. agreed that the Church should remain where she is. Let the people come to her. She should be, if I may so express it, the sheet anchor of society, our bulwark against socialism, in spite of socialists who call themselves ministers of God. The Church has lost ground—why? Because she has given ground. The sanctity of private property is being menaced, demagogues are crying out from the house-tops and inciting people against the men who have made this country what it is, who have risked their fortunes and their careers for the present prosperity. We have no longer any right, it seems, to employ whom we will in our factories and our railroads; we are not allowed to regulate our rates, although the risks were all ours. Even the women are meddling—they are not satisfied to stay in the homes, where they belong. You agree with me?”

      “As to the women,” said the rector, “I have to acknowledge that I have never had any experience with the militant type of which you speak.”

      “I pray God you may never have,” exclaimed Mr. Parr, with more feeling than he had yet shown.

      “Woman's suffrage, and what is called feminism in general, have never penetrated to Bremerton. Indeed, I must confess to have been wholly out of touch with the problems to which you refer, although of course I have been aware of their existence.”

      “You will meet them here,” said the banker, significantly.

      “Yes,” the rector replied thoughtfully, “I can see that. I know that the problems here will be more complicated, more modern—more difficult. And I thoroughly agree with you that their ultimate solution is dependent on Christianity. If I did not believe—in spite of the evident fact which you point out of the Church's lost ground, that her future will be greater than her past, I should not be a clergyman.”

      The quiet but firm note of faith was, not lost on the financier, and yet was not he quite sure what was to be made of it? He had a faint and fleeting sense of disquiet, which registered and was gone.

      “I hope so,” he said vaguely, referring perhaps to the resuscitation of which the rector spoke. He drummed on the table. “I'll go so far as to say that I, too, think that the structure can be repaired. And I believe it is the duty of the men of influence—all men of influence—to assist. I don't say that men of influence are not factors in the Church to-day, but I do say that they are not using the intelligence in this task which they bring to bear, for instance, on their business.”

      “Perhaps the clergy might help,” Hodder suggested, and added more seriously, “I think that many of them are honestly trying to do so.”

      “No doubt of it. Why is it,” Mr. Parr continued reflectively, “that ministers as a whole are by no means the men they were? You will pardon my frankness. When I was a boy, the minister was looked up to as an intellectual and moral force to be reckoned with. I have heard it assigned, as one reason, that in the last thirty years other careers have opened up, careers that have proved much more attractive to young men of ability.”

      “Business careers?” inquired the rector.

      “Precisely!”

      “In other words,” said Hodder, with his curious smile, “the ministry gets the men who can't succeed at anything else.”

      “Well, that's putting it rather strong,” answered Mr. Parr, actually reddening a little. “But come now, most young men would rather be a railroad president than a bishop—wouldn't they?”

      “Most young men would,” agreed Hodder, quickly, “but they are not the young men who ought to be bishops, you'll admit that.”

      The financier, be it recorded to his credit, did not lack appreciation of this thrust, and, for the first time, he laughed with something resembling heartiness. This laughter, in which Hodder joined, seemed suddenly to put them on a new footing—a little surprising to both.

      “Come,” said the financier, rising, “I'm sure you like pictures, and Langmaid tells me you have a fancy for first editions. Would you care to go to the gallery?”

      “By all means,” the rector assented.

      Their footsteps, as they crossed the hardwood floors, echoed in the empty house. After pausing to contemplate a Millet on the stair landing, they came at last to the huge, silent gallery, where the soft but adequate light fell upon many masterpieces, ancient and modern. And it was here, while gazing at the Corots and Bonheurs, Lawrences, Romneys, Copleys, and Halses, that Hodder's sense of their owner's isolation grew almost overpowering Once, glancing over his shoulder at Mr. Parr, he surprised in his eyes an expression almost of pain.

      “These pictures must give you great pleasure,” he said.

      “Oh,” replied the banker, in a queer voice, “I'm always glad when any one appreciates them. I never come in here alone.”

      Hodder did not reply. They passed along to an upstairs sitting-room, which must, Hodder thought, be directly over the dining-room. Between its windows was a case containing priceless curios.

      “My wife liked this room,” Mr. Parr СКАЧАТЬ