doubling of the attendance at New Zion. Curiosity had been aroused in
this militant young minister with the strange ideas, and Theophilus
Londonderry wished for nothing better than to gratify it. In the oxygen
of success even the dullest metals will scintillate, and it needed but
such small beginnings of his future to make Theophilus as nearly
irresistible as natural gifts and success together can make a man.

Some people go to chapel to worship, a few to learn, but most, odd as it
may sound, to be entertained. A vivid and magnetic preacher is as near
as many will allow themselves to approach the theatre. Theophilus was a
born actor--of himself; a part so few can or dare play. He gave you good
stimulating truth; but it was not so much in the newness of the ideas
which he passed on from his books to his hearers, as in the newness of
himself, that of course the charm lay. A few people, not many or
important, disliked him; but all had to listen, and a good many came to
New Zion again. Above all, the women heard him gladly; and to this sure
sign of a future Theophilus was far from blind. "He has women at his
back, he cannot fail," was a phrase he sometimes recalled out of his
favourite _Brand_. Yes, and had he not one little angel-woman at
his side?

It had been the spring of 1886 when he came to New Zion. It was now the
autumn, and early in September announcements had been made of a series
of autumnal lectures to be given by the Rev. Theophilus Londonderry; Rob
Clitheroe, Esquire; James Whalley, Esquire; and other distinguished
lecturers, at New Zion.

In the list were papers on "The Duty of Novel Reading," "Henrik Ibsen,"
"A Morris Wall-Paper," "The Nude in Art," and "The Darwinian Theory,"
by Mr. Londonderry himself; "Coalchester, its Past and its Future," by