Hearing, then, that Paul was going to the Isle of Man and Keswick, he had persuaded him to come for a few days to Ripon on his way South. It was inconvenient that, at the time, a Congregational conference was taking place in Ripon, but as money for train fares was a consideration to both friends, Paul's visit was not delayed. He himself was glad, as a matter of fact, that the conference was sitting. Congregationalism was not immediately on his road, but he thought he would turn off to see a little of it as he passed.
Three ministers were staying in the house, and the friends were out of it most days. They made sundry excursions, and lunched away. That first afternoon, Paul was taken to his friend's father's chapel. He was shown affectionately round. Judson opened the door of the roomy, clean, pitch-pine vestry with an air, and took obvious pride in a new pulpit of considerable dimensions. He explained the heating apparatus with the same sponsorial solicitude that a priest takes when he shows a visitor a new altar. He opened and played the new American organ. He exhibited, in short, an unhushed genial interest in and affection for a series of what already seemed to Paul incredibly ugly and unattractive things. For Paul had never admired his own mission hall. He had never even thought of admiration, or the reverse, in connection with it. It had stood for use, not for ornament. But Judson evidently saw in his chapel beautiful and holy ground. He did not take off his shoes, because he was not a ritualist and that was not his way, but he liked the heating apparatus to shine brightly and to burn the best coal.
It was much the same in the Minster. There had been a time when Paul had thought all cathedrals "high" and tending to Popery. Now he saw in Ripon a lovely thing misused and defaced. The choir was full of cane chairs, rank on rank, for it alone was chiefly used. They stood in platoons on the wide, dignified steps leading up to the altar, steps the stone of whose very approach was all but entirely concealed by an expensive red Turkey carpet, presented, they were impressively informed, by a lesser Royalty, when staying with the Bishop who had been popular at Court. The altar frontal had the appearance of red plush, with a multi-coloured Maltese cross worked upon it, flanked by lilies. It had cost seventy-five pounds sixteen shillings. They were told so. Also the two shades of red were locked in a violent argument.
They saw the high, oak-roofed Lady Chapel, which was lined with never-opened books, called a library, and used for a choir vestry. The light streamed through its lovely window upon dog-eared piles of Tallis's chant-books. And in the North Transept, they stood in front of an immense and decorated Georgian memorial for which pillars had been broken and carvings cut away, a memorial which was approached still by ancient altar steps, and on the top of which reposed a Georgian figure in coloured stone who reclined upon his side, one elbow propping up his bewigged head, and one hand, with lace at the wrist, frozen for ever in a timeless pat upon a bulging stomach.
Judson saw pleasant humanity in the effigy, the verger magnificence, Paul an artistic and religious abomination of desolation, and they all three ascribed their own feelings to the all-seeing deity. The sunlight continued to dapple the stone which ever way it was.
They went, also, to Fountains Abbey. Judson expressed contempt for the decadent English aristocracy, excited thereto by some subtle influence arising from the well-cut, trim lawns, and much admired the view of a classical temple which is to be seen through a well-placed gap. He admired it to the extent of a pipe upon the spot. Within the ruin, Paul sat on a fallen stone, and fell on silence. Returning from a tour of inspection, Judson surveyed him with amusement.
"Are you brooding upon a sonnet, Kestern?" he enquired, feeling for his matches again.
Paul's tragic youth forbade him to reply.
"Well, those blessed monks of yours did themselves proud, anyway," continued his companion. Puff-puff. "Wonder if we could get up a picnic here."
The distant hoot of a char-a-banc appeared more or less to answer him.