Phyllis of Philistia | Page 7

Israel had remained
the worst of barbarians, murdering the men who had from time to time
arisen to try and rescue them from the abysses of criminality into which
they had fallen,--abysses of criminality and superstition,--until they had
filled their cup of crime by the murder of the One whom the world
worships to-day.
Incidentally, of course, the character of Samson was dealt with. Delilah
was shown to be one of the most heroic of womankind, making greater

sacrifices through her splendid patriotism than Joan of Arc. But
Samson----
Ruth was also dealt with incidentally. She was the woman who
expresses her willingness to give up her God at the bidding of another
woman, and who had entered into a plot with that same woman to
entrap a man whom they looked to support them.
Then there was David. It was not the Bath-sheba episode, but the
Abishag, that the author treated at length--one of the most revolting
transactions in history, especially as there is some reason to believe that
the unfortunate girl was, when it was perpetrated, already attached to
one of the sons of the loathsome, senile sensualist.
Perhaps, on the whole, it was not surprising that after the publication of
this book the Rev. George Holland became the best-known clergyman
in England, or that the breath of bishops should be taken from them. So
soon as some of them recovered from the first brunt of the shock, they
met together and held up their hands, saying that they awaited the
taking of immediate action by the prelate within whose see St. Chad's
was situated. But that particular prelate was a man who had never been
known to err on the side of rapidity of action. Nearly a week had passed
before he made any move in the matter, and then the move he made
was in the direction of the Engadine. He crossed the Channel with the
book under his arm. He determined to read it at his leisure. Being a
clergyman, he could not, of course, be expected to have examined,
from any standpoint but that of the clergyman, the characters of the
persons dealt with in the book, and he was naturally shocked at the
freedom shown by the rector of St. Chad's in criticising men whose
names have been held in the highest esteem for some thousands of
years. He at once perceived that the rector of St. Chad's had been very
narrow-minded in his views regarding the conduct of the men whom he
had attacked. It occurred to him, as it had to Mr. Ayrton, that the writer
had drawn his picture without any regard for perspective. That was
very foolish on the part of a man who was a Fellow of his college, the
bishop thought; and besides, there was no need for the book--its
tendency was not to help the weaker brethren. But to assume that the

book would, as some newspaper articles said it would, furnish the most
powerful argument that had yet been brought forward in favor of the
Disestablishment of Church, was, he thought, to assume a great deal
too much. The Church that had survived Wesley, Whitefield, Colenso,
Darwin, and Renan would not succumb to George Holland. The bishop
recollected how the Church had bitterly opposed all the teaching of the
men of wisdom whose names came back to him; and how it had ended
by making their teaching its own. Would anyone venture to assert that
the progress of Christianity was dependent upon what people thought
of the acceptance by David of the therapeutic course prescribed for him?
Was the morality which the Church preached likely to be jeopardized
because Ruth was a tricky young woman?
The bishop knew something of man, and he knew something of the
Church, he even knew something of the Bible; and when he came to the
chapter in "Revised Versions" that dealt with the episode of Ruth and
Boaz, he flung the book into a corner of his bedroom, exclaiming,
"Puppy!"
And then there came before his eyes a vision of a field of yellow corn,
ripe for the harvest. The golden sunlight gleamed upon the golden grain
through which the half-naked brown-skinned men walked with their
sickles. The half-naked brown-skinned women followed the binders,
gleaning the ears, and among the women was the one who had said,
"Entreat me not to leave thee." He had read that old pastoral when he
was a child at the knee of his mother. It was surely the loveliest
pastoral of the East, and its charm would be in no wise impaired
because a man who failed to appreciate the beauty of its simplicity, had
almost called Ruth by the worst name that can be applied to a woman.
The bishop did not mind what