“We have everything in our own hands,” said John Dallington, “and it ought to be possible for us to have each man, woman, and child in our care, if not under our control. We may not be able to make the villagers religious; but surely it is possible so to govern our little world that there shall be no poverty in it, but every one have a share in the comforts and refinements which the richest enjoy. I find that we have some poor to be relieved, and some evilly-disposed persons—the most poor and the most miserable of all—who must be helped out of themselves.”
There were eight persons in conference—the Vicar, the Rev. George Emerson, the Baptist minister, the Rev. Henry Marshall, and the chief supporter of the Methodists—Mr. Rouse, who was also the principal tradesman in the place—Mr. Whitwell, and Dallington. There was here, happily, no bitterness between the Clergyman and the Dissenting ministers. The men knew each other so well that they had lost the disposition for fighting. In theory, of course, Mr. Marshall thought the Church should be disestablished, and when the time came he would do his duty, and vote to that effect; in theory, too, Mr. Emerson thought the Dissenters were schismatics, and ought to be repressed; but in practice the men were brothers, who respected the good which they saw in each other, and carried together the burden of the souls of the people. Neither begrudged the other the success which came to him, both mourned because they, though helped by the Salvationists and Methodists, failed between them to bring to the house of God as many as two-thirds of the people of Darentdale. But for this sympathy which existed between the Christian workers of the denominations, Dallington would have had no hope whatever for the success of his plan.
They had before them a list of the inhabitants, the joint work of Margaret Miller and Tom Whitwell, which gave all necessary particulars of the family and circumstances of each householder, together with certain facts touching their character, religion, and occupation—a list quite easily drawn up, since every individual was well known.
“Our parochial system has already parcelled out the country,” began Mr. Emerson.
“And placed a gentleman in every parish,” quoted Mr. Marshall, with a significant smile.
“Exactly; and to help him teach the people the Free Churches have been established, so that it is certainly not an impossible thing for us together to provide religious instruction on the Sunday, and visitation during the week. I do not quite know how it is that we have failed to get hold of so many of the people.”
“For part of the trouble our collections are responsible,” said Mr. Marshall. “The working classes do not care to be asked continually for money.”
“I do not think they mind paying for what they have,” said the Methodist. “The penny a week from our people comes in readily enough, and the Salvation Army procures immense sums from the working-classes. The real difficulty is that men do not consider religion a thing worth paying for. They judge it by its professors, and pronounce it a fraud or a failure, because so many of us are not what we declare religion makes people to be. There is not enough difference between those who are naturally good and those who profess to have been made good by grace.”
“Exactly,” said the clergyman. “Among the poor and irreligious of this village there is no man so highly respected as Mr. Harris, who never darkens the doors of church or chapel.”
“Yes; the carnal mind is still at enmity against God,” remarked the Baptist minister. “But is not even that, to a great extent, because the representatives of Christ have failed to prove that they are the bringers of good tidings? What is your gospel of help to the people, Mr. Dallington?”