By 1842 the Royal Mail penny postal service was running smoothly, and over breakfast one morning Henry received a letter from his mother in Widdicombe Crescent saying that Martha’s health was much, much worse. He went at once to Bath leaving Starky to conduct the evening meetings and Sunday services, for he was now able to do both. A fortnight later Henry returned to the rectory in time for he and Starky to receive a messenger from the Bishop of Bath and Wells, who introduced himself as the Bishop’s chaplain then said, “We are sorry to hear your wife has been very ill, Mr Prince.” “No longer, sir. It is true that she suffered terribly at the end, but that is no longer the case. Martha Prince is now perfectly well and happy, in a better world than ours.”
“I am glad she is in a better world, but sorry that you are bereft of a helpmeet in these difficult times.”
“Why do you think the times difficult, sir?”
“Because you and your rector are both making them difficult for your Right Reverend Father in God, George Henry Law. He is now a very old man. Letters of complaint from your Charlinch parishioners have alarmed him extremely. I arrived here two days ago to investigate these complaints and find good cause for them.”
“What cause have you found?”
“Mr Starky, you have forbidden the Evensong service to many respectable Christians. Prominent farmers, dealers and artisans are now ordering their wives and servants not to attend any of the Sunday services. Women are threatening to leave husbands who will not go to Mr Prince’s prayer meetings and enraged husbands are threatening to kill wives who do go to them. Children are quarrelling with parents, servants with masters while the ungodly look on, laughing and hooting because they find these scandals highly entertaining. This is not Christianity. Christ is the Prince of Peace.”
Henry sighed and looked at Starky who murmured, “Christ said I come not to send peace; but a sword, for I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her – ”
“Yes yes, we know that, but Christ was referring to the sword wielded by Roman persecutors. He never rejected any who came to hear Him. You must allow all in Charlinch to attend Evensong. Those who pay life rent for pews are entitled to them under the law of the land.”
“Alas, our small church has no room for all who wish to hear God’s word from Brother Starky’s lips,” said Henry.
“That is because you have been poaching – attracting people from other parishes.”
Henry and Starky stared at each other but said nothing.
“I have a mandate from the Bishop to withdraw your licences to preach unless you, Mr Starky, stop excluding any of your own parishioners, and Mr Prince leaves Charlinch forthwith.
What do you say to that?”
“But!” pleaded Starky, “But! But does the Bishop not know the strength of Belovéd Brother Prince’s following? The Lampeter Brethren are not a negligible body. If our Belovéd is excommunicated by the Church of England, others too may leave.”
“Bishop Law threatens no one with excommunication. Mr Prince is free to seek more useful work in a different parish, if it is also in a different diocese. Will he do so?”
Henry said gloomily, “Does the Bishop really want Charlinch church to be a place where people once again come for a nap on Sundays?”
“I will not answer that question. I insist on you answering mine – will you leave Charlinch?”
Starky looked appealingly to Prince who said, “Before answering I must consult with The Spirit in prayer.”
“Do so. I will call for the answer tomorrow. Good day.”
Henry sat silent for a long time not responding to Starky’s few, timidly spoken words: “The Church of England, I fear, is governed by very worldly men . . . If The Spirit wishes, of course, my family connections can easily place you in another parish . . . Or will it command us, Belovéd, to defy the Bishop and leave the Church of England? . . . If it does we will surely be able to continue in the rectory for a while because my father built it . . . Several Anglicans have left the Church recently by turning Catholic . . . Of course the incomes of me, my wife and sister will easily support us all, that is certainly a comfort and yet . . . Many Scottish ministers so detest the patronage of landlords that they threaten to break away and found a Free Church . . .”
“I must pray for guidance alone, Brother Starky,” said Henry, and went to his room.
The Starkys had never doubted that Henry’s amazingly unruffled composure came from God. He had told them his strange life story: that his mother in God had been a Catholic who taught him to love Jesus from the Bible; that she had persuaded his bodily mother of his priestly vocation; that four years ago she had become Anglican and joined him in holy wedlock before suffering at his side in this then faithless parish. They knew Martha’s death must have disturbed him more deeply than he had shown, and when he joined them in the drawing room later his air of wild distraction frightened them.
“My brother and sisters in Christ! O how I need your help,” he cried, weeping, “Is it possible that I am the most selfish, the most deluded of men? Can Satan – not the Holy Spirit – have led me into troubling this peaceful English parish? Has my inordinate pride deluded me and you and half a respectable Christian congregation? O say it is not so! Or else say, say, say that it is!”
He knelt down and raised clasped hands looking from Starky to the women and back. They clustered round him with soothing sounds from the women soon silenced by Starky’s ringing words: “Do not torment yourself, Belovéd! It is now my turn to reprove your lack of faith. By their fruits ye shall know them, declare the Scriptures. How can the fruits you have borne through the Lampeter Brethren and through me be Satan’s work? Satan cannot bring infidels to God, or heal the sick, or make active, experimental Christians out of worldly, formal ones. Remember that you are a Branch of the Tree of Life – that man called Branch whose fruit gives eternal life. Has the death of your belovéd Martha made you doubt your divine vocation? But she loved you and had faith in you, a faith you must not betray. Please get up.”
“I want to believe you dear, dear Sam,” sobbed Henry, still kneeling, “But The Spirit has commanded something so unexpected and strange – so outrageous to what worldly people think right – that I fear it cannot be obeyed.”
His listeners stared at each other, bewildered. Starky said, “The Spirit is surely not asking you to commit a crime!”
“Not a crime, no. What it commands breaks no human law and it is surely not sinful in the eyes of God.”
“Then who will it harm?”
“None, but a great many will be shocked.”
“If what the Spirit commands is not sinful, the Spirit must be obeyed,” said Starky, “What does it command?”
In a strangely timid voice Henry asked the women, “Do you agree with Brother Samuel?”
They agreed vehemently. Henry whispered, “Julia, the Spirit commands me to marry you.”
Julia’s mouth fell open. For several seconds, as the others gazed, the blood left her cheeks very pale, then returned in a blush that spread to her throat, ears and forehead. At last she nodded and said, “Since the Spirit commands us, yes, Henry. Yes my belovéd Henry. Yes, my belovéd Prince.”
He sighed deeply, said, “You have removed a great burden from me,” stood up and began drying his face with a handkerchief. Mrs Starky said faintly, “But I suppose the wedding need not take place very soon? Need it? There will be the usual year or so of mourning before it is solemnised.”
Henry said, “Dear sister – dear all of you, I am tired. The Spirit has wrought mightily in a feeble body. For the past week I have hardly slept. Tomorrow morning we will talk of what should be done in light of the Bishop’s mandate. It may be, indirectly, a message from God who requires me – having planted the seed of The Word in Charlinch – to sow it elsewhere. But now I must rest.”
He was about to leave but something in Julia’s face made him pause and raise her right ha
nd to his mouth by the fingertips. He touched the back of it very slightly with his lips then said, “You realize that our marriage will not be of the flesh, but pure, and of The Spirit?”
Julia, blushing again, murmured, “Yes – O yes.” He went to bed.
25: STOKE, BRIGHTON, WEYMOUTH
Henry and Julia’s wedding very soon after Martha’s death shocked or amazed many and amused some (though Sam Starky conducted it). The couple bore these reactions meekly as they had married for the glory of God, not for earthly profit. One of Starky’s relations gave Henry the parish of Stoke in Suffolk, where his Father in God was Dr Allen of Ely, a bishop friendlier than Law of Bath and Wells toward a new breed of evangelical clergy. Meanwhile Starky remained rector of Charlinch and obtained as his new curate George Thomas, one of the early Lampeter Brethren.
Two years later Henry, with Julia’s support, had raised such a storm of annoyance in Stoke that Dr Allen summoned Henry to the episcopal palace and said, “What are we to do with you, Mr Prince?”
“Who does Your Lordship signify when he says we?”, murmured Henry.
“By we I signify the Church of England by Law Established, the Church you have studied to join, and which has made me your unhappy Father in God.”
He sighed. Henry waited. Dr Allen pointed to a desk saying, “That heap of letters contains more complaints than I can properly answer. Once again you are promoting domestic and social strife.” “May I remind Your Lordship of Christ’s own words? He said Think not that I come to send peace on earth: I come not to send peace; but a – ”
“Yes yes! May I remind you of Shakespeare’s words? The devil may cite the scriptures to his advantage.”
“Is it devilish of me to prefer the words of Christ to Shakespeare’s, Your Lordship?”
“No, but I assure you Christ’s words nowhere entitle a priest to exclude Christians from his services.”
“A Christian, Your Lordship, is someone who does more than chant words in unison. Services are a senseless mockery if not performed by hearts experiencing new birth through The Spirit, after which, says Jesus, the wheat must be divided from the chaff, the sheep from the goats.”
“He was speaking of the last days of mankind – the time of the general resurrection. Do you believe we are living in these last days?”
Henry did not reply.
“Will you persist in excluding parishioners from your services?”
“I will do as the Holy Spirit commands, Your Lordship.”
“Might it occur to you, Mr Prince, that in the Church of England the Holy Spirit commands you through me, your Bishop?”
Henry said nothing.
“If you do not concur I must withdraw your licence to preach in English Episcopal Churches.”
“Your Lordship will do precisely what God allows you to do.”
“If that is all you have to say, you may leave.”
Henry bowed and left.
This interview and its outcome had been foreseen and had stimulated Julia’s practical intelligence. She said, “The advowson of Stoke is still in our family’s gift. My baronet uncle will appoint one of the Brethren in your place here also, no matter what Dr Allen wants, so the best of your followers in Stoke will not be lost to us. Who would you like to choose – O Belovéd forgive me! – Who would the Holy Spirit choose in your place here?”
“Lewis Price, I suppose.”
“That will make him very happy. Shall we now discuss the new situation with Sam, since he is similarly placed?”
Henry nodded agreement. He had come to believe a saying of Thomas à Kempis, that silence is usually wiser than speech.
Complaints to the Bishop of Bath and Wells had continued after Henry and Julia left Charlinch because Starky and his new curate, George Thomas, were ardent Princeites, as some of the Lampeter Brethren were now being called. Most people in the Church of England thought their appointed clergymen adequate, but Princeites believed Henry – at first or second-hand – was essential. His Charlinch followers flocked so closely around Starky and Thomas that the rest, feeling excluded, at last persuaded Bishop Law to withdraw Starky’s licence. Thomas lasted longer. His popular sermons so increased Prince’s Charlinch following that when the Bishop eventually expelled him too nearly half his congregation also left. They now worshipped God in a Princeite farmer’s barn renamed the Charlinch Free Church. Here Thomas and Starky conducted services while a curate from a neighbouring parish led Sunday services in the established Charlinch church. Starky retained the rectory, so here he and Henry and their wives conferred.
“Things are working out wonderfully well, Belovéd!” said Starky. “We who have left the Church of England for conscience’ sake must now be as many as the first few Christians who separated from the Jews. With your following in Stoke and elsewhere we may soon be as many as the Children of Israel who followed Moses into the wilderness!”
“We have not left the Church of England Brother Starky,” said Henry firmly, “The Church of England has left us, or some of us. Our faith is unchanged. I have told the Lampeter Brethren this by letter. It is an important distinction.”
“Most of the Brethren are still Anglicans,” said Julia, “We should not needlessly estrange them.”
“You are quite right – I stand rebuked,” said Starky happily.
“Another wonderful thing is the better class of people joining our free church – not just milkmaids, road-menders and inferior farming people but people with money and land and respectable professions. We have a civil engineer with the Bristol and Exeter Railway!”
“The men are mostly bachelors and the women spinsters or widows,” said Mrs Starky. “I sometimes feel quite strange, being one of the few married people.”
“The engineer is Brother William Cobbe,” said Starky, “His sister, Miss Frances Cobbe, is the well known writer on social problems. He is so devoted to us that he has drawn plans for our very own church building and will pay for the construction! A site has been found for it only two or three miles away by Brother Hotham Mayber, a lovely spot at Spaxton Bottom where he owns land.”
Henry said thoughtfully, “At Stoke there is also a wealthier class of people among my faithful.”
He was silent for a time. The rest waited patiently until The Spirit moved him to say, “I must meet Brothers Cobbe and Mayber at Spaxton. But it is time, Brother Sam, for us to spread the Word of God to fresh pastures in less rural places.”
Which happened. Henry and Julia moved to Brighton where he rented a hall to preach in; Sam and wife went to Weymouth and did the same.
These pleasant seaside resorts contained many who had retired from cities like London where their money had been made, and where polluted air and water reduced life expectancy, even among the rich. Most of the retired were no longer young and often worried about the health of their bodies and souls. Those who overcame the first shock of attending Princeite meetings (which diverged more and more from traditional Anglican services) found unusual comfort in them. At least once a week Starky joined Henry in Adullam Hall, Brighton, or Henry joined Starky in a Weymouth tavern where they rented a room. Instead of the usual sermon they stood side by side making short speeches, turn and turn about. Their passionate duet first said all mankind was living under a dreadful impending catastrophe, then offered listeners a mysterious escape route.
Prince might begin by saying sadly, “What a beautiful thing was the human body when it came fresh from the hand of the Maker! Even now it is a noble thing, though it is but a temple in ruins! But in Eden it was bright with the beautiful image of God; it bore on its noble front the name of Him who made it, and man was the honoured link between Spirit and matter, Earth linked to Heaven by his living soul, united to Earth by his living body. His eye, his ear, his taste, his touch, his smell, his skin, his every sense was conscious only of good. Because Adam was a creature of sense rather than thought. Eve also. Their senses were alive in God, giving them the bright sun and the heaven in its clearness, the flo
wers in their sweetness, the streams in their gentleness. All these were mediums by which their Maker ministered to them as flesh.”
Starky said, “Adam, Eve and we their children would be living in eternal happiness to this day, as God wished, but that subtle serpent Satan tempted them to doubt God, yes, doubt God who had told them they would die if they ate fruit giving knowledge of good and evil! For to know evil is to become evil. They doubted God’s word, ate that fruit, were ashamed of their nakedness, and thought to hide themselves from God’s eye. Yes, doubt and knowledge and thought brought us all to sin, shame and death. So at last God took another woman – a virgin in Nazareth, Judaea – and made in her flesh Jesus Christ through whom the souls of believers will be redeemed. But where does that leave our bodies?”
“Look on the human body now!” cried Prince, “Look at those shrivelled anatomies of once human men, women and children starved by the failure of the potato crops in Holland, Belgium and Ireland! But why look so far? London is now the largest, richest, most scientifically governed city in the world and capital of an empire ruling, in every continent, a full quarter of the world’s people. Yet poisonous sewage has turned the Thames into the foulest river on earth. On its banks great lords and senators sitting in the Westminster Palace can hardly stand the stink, yet know not how to cure it. At night gas candelabra light up every London lane, street and public building but what does that light reveal? Filthy and turbulent mobs!”
“Look into any hospital,” cried Starky, “Into any prison – workhouse – factory – sweatshop – gin palace – tenement – slum. Are not even the mansions of the wealthy repositories of misery and sin? Can you see among so many weak and unhealthy bodies, so many painful forms of torn humanity, the lines of beauty and the mark of God? What do you see in all this? Death reigns. Death reigns. Need it always reign?”
Old Men in Love Page 21