YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

EELIGIOUS LIFE LST ENGLAND.

LONDON :
BOBSON AND SON, GREAT NORTHEKN PRINTING WORKS,
pancras road, N.W.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND

ALPHONSE ESQUIROS,
ATJTHOR OP
' THE ENGLISH AT HOME," " THE DtJTCH AT HOME," ETC.

LONDON:
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193 PICCADILLY.
1867.

PEEFACE.

If I had followed the advice of the ancients, ab Jove
principiwm, the study of- Eehgious Life would have
been the first of my essays on England. But va
rious causes have prevented this being the case. I
will only mention one : the difiiculty of this subject
for a foreigner. StiU, I was very far firom failing
to recognise the influence which the faith of a
people must exercise on their manners, character,
and institutions. It may be surmised beforehand,
it is from this point of view alone, and not theo
logically, that I have taken my stand as an observer.
In the principles of the religious Reformation, as
proclaimed in the sixteenth century, and still re
freshed day by day at the well-spring of free inquiry,
are to be found, as I think, the germs of the real
Constitution of England.
One fact is calculated to strike me. Both in the
Old and New World representative government has

PEEPACE.

been established — in different grades, it is true —
without effort, and as if naturaUy, in almost all
those states which belong to the Reformed Churches ;
whilst up to the present time nothing of the same
kind is to be seen in Catholic nations. Those among
the latter who have attained to the enjoyment of
constitutional government have only achieved it by
severing themselves more or less from their religious
traditions. The contest has been a sharp and dis
tressing one, and is stiU going on. The political
conquests in these states rest only on a compromise
between faith and reason. A rehgious order, stiU
exercising a certain sway over the conscience, con
stantly seeks either to reeaU or maintain some obso
lete class in the state, incompetent for the future to
rule over the minds of men. Hence the source of
the evil ; hence the cause of the antagonistic wrenches
by which countries are constantly rent asunder, in
the name either of progress or of reaction. Abso
lutism in matters of faith opposes an eternal obstacle
to the freedom of opinions.
England, above all other nations of Europe, has
had the unusual good fortune of long back attaching
herself to a form of religious doctrines which was
not at variance with her social institutions. This
is, in my idea, the source of her great prosperity.

PREFACE.

Of all the Christian systems. Protestantism is the
one which is best suited to constitutional govern
ment. On the one hand, it possesses enough of the
principle of authority to shed its haUowing influence
over the monarchy; and on the other, it leaves
sufBcient room for the liberty of thought, so as to
admit the right of discussion, the principle of inde
pendent enterprise, and the intervention of the
country generaUy in the affairs of state.
As every nation is to some extent restricted by
its history, its traditions, and its peculiar genius, it
has a good right to have an ideal of its own. Thus
it has in no way entered into my thoughts to pro
pose for France that type of religious or political
institutions which Great Britain has thought proper
to choose for herself. But I can fearlessly recom
mend the wise example which the Enghsh have pre
sented to the world at large in throwing aside before
hand, as regards questions of faith, all those obstacles
which in material affairs might oppose the develop
ment of liberty.
Whilst this book was being written, some grave
dissensions have lately broken out amongst the
ministers of the Church of England. It is not, on
any account, expedient for us to enter into this
sacred arena, or to mix ourselves up with the

PEEFACE.

learned combatants. But perhaps a foreigner may
be permitted to offer to both sides a few words of
sincere and disinterested advice. K England is
tired of her poUtieal Uberties, if she recoils affrighted
from the requirements of modem inteUect, simple
means are at her disposal to cut the matter short :
let her go back to the bygone rites and bygone
dogmas which she threw off three centuries ago.
In them only wiU she find an anchor against the
waves of progress. If, on the contrary, she has
faith in herself and her ftiture; if she wishes to
preserve intact that spirit of free inquiry, and of
free individual action, which has been her source
of strength in manufactures, science, and poUtieal
economy; if the contest with the opinions of the
age 'does not intimidate her, — she wiU take good
care not to retrace her steps towards an obsolete
system of reUgion, which, in spite of the disguise
under which they seek to cloak it, is, after aU, but
the spirit of moral servitude. ALPHONSE ESQUIEOS.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTEE 1,
PASE
Eeh'gious life in the country — An English parish — The differ
ence between an English and a French viUage — The par
sonage — Why the clergyman's residence is sometimes in
a state of dilapidation — What is a living? — Origin of
the right of patronage — How it happens that the advow-
son, or right of presentation, is a saleable property, and
purohaseable by auction — Who exercises this right? —
How does a man become a clergyman? — The Curate's
life — Whom does he marry ? — Are the English Clergy paid
by the State ? — ^When and how the tithes were commuted
— ^Various sources of income — Poor livings — Sydney Smith
— The Clergyman's wife — Various plans for bettering the
condition of country Incumbents— Difference between the
Eeotor and the Vicar — Influence of Curates on the agri
cultural classes — Relations between the Incumbent and
the Bishop — Parochial duties of the Clergyman — Life
in a parsonage  i
CHAPTEE IL
The Church — The Sunday services — System of seats — ^Why
there is no Altar in Protestant churches — Morning ser
vice — Why the English can call themselves Catholics —
The Funejal Service — " Harvest-Home" — Church-rates
and Vestry Meetings — The parish officers — Church
wardens — Village clubs— The Incumbent who is liked by
the parishioners, and the Incumbent who is not liked —
Charities and parochial visiting  41

CONTENTS.

CHAPTEE in. PAGE
The schools — Infant school — National school and Sunday-
school — Andrew Bell — Joseph Lancaster — The system of
mutual instruction — The National Society — The British
and Foreign Schools Society — Reasons for the antagonism
of these two institutions — The Revised Code — Objections
to which it has given rise — Causes for the complaints
and grievances of the Clergy — General views of the Go
vernment — Who nominates the Schoolmaster ? — Progress
of education in England since the commencement of the
Nineteenth Century — Bond of union between the Church
and the school  67

CHAPTEE IV.
Eeligious life in towns — ^Lambeth Palace — The Chapel, the
Great Hall, and the Guard Room — The prison in the
Lollards' Tower — Dungeon of detention— Organisation of
the Church of England — The two Primates — The Arch
bishop of Canterbury — Annual visit of the Stationers'
Company to Lambeth Palace — The arohiepiscopal city of
Canterbury — The "Tabard" Inn — Chaucer and Shake
speare — Palace Street — St. Martin's Church — Origin of
Christianity in England — St. Augustine, first Archbishop
of Canterbury — External appearance of the cathedral
and cloisters — Sunday service in a Protestant temple —
Thomas ^ Becket — Nature of a cathedral chapter — Or
ganisation of deans and canons — The chapter of Canter
bury  93
CHAPTER V.
Convocation ; its origin, and what it has become in course of
time — Way of convoking and assembling this ecclesi
astical assembly — Proctors — Act of Subscription — The
Church Congress — Brother Ignatius — High Church and
Low Church — Electoral reform in the Clerical Parlia
ment — The Traotarians — Latitudinarians — The Broad

CONTENTS.

PAGE
Church — Dr. Arnold — Arguments in favour of a free
interpretation of the Bible — Essays and Reviews — Dr.
Maurice and Byron's Oiaour— 'Eternity of punishment
rejected as an impious doctrine — Influence of Clergy in
the State — What are their political opinions ? — The Libe
ration Society — Ragged churches — Why the working
classes will not go to the Established churches . . .130
CHAPTER VI.
The Dissenting denominations— Their origin and cause — The
Independents — Eeligious persecutions — Heretics judged
and condemned by heretics— Chief tenets of the Congre-
gationalists— One of their chapels— The Baptists— Mr.
Spurgeon and his Tabernacle — Baptism of adults — The
Society of Friends, or Quakers— Simplicity of their wor
ship—Character of Quakers — Quakerism is decreasing,
and why ?— Methodists— John Wesley— Class meetings-
Itinerant preachers— Ministry of women— The New Church
— Swedenborg- How his doctrines came to be introduced
into England— Unitarians— Their way of looking at Chris
tianity—Open-air preachers— The prophetess interrupted
by a donkey— Respect paid to liberty of speech— The
Evangelical Alliance- One of the glories of Protestantism 158
CHAPTER VII.
Those who go to Church and those who go out of Town
—Nature's festivals— The Crystal Pa,lace— Why we call
it a temple— How it origmated— Has it answered the end
for which it was built?— The amusements which frustrate
the good intentions of its founders— Services which it
might render to the education of the people . . .19°
CHAPTER VIII.
Geology the preface of history— The Island of Monsters-
Races of men and their climates— Pythagoras' dream
realised in the Crystal Palace— India badly represented-
Ancient Egypt and its principal historical characteristics

CONTENTS.

page
— ^A temple the production of imagination — Symbolical
architecture — ^Where is the mind of a people to be sought
for? — Causes of the decay of primitive civilisations —
The Assyrian Court — The Priest-Kings — Sensations on
passing from the monuments of primitive Eastern com
munities to ancient Greece — Arrival in the modem world
— A Roman dwelling-house — The Alhambra — The dogma
of Fatalism connects the Moors with the other quiescent
communities  107
CHAPTEE IX.
Infancy of modern civilisations — Primitive forms of Chris
tian art — The Byzantine period — The Middle Ages —
Memorials of Catholic England — The Renaissance — Its
characteristics in England — The Elizabethan style —
Connection between the Renaissance and the Reforma
tion — Services rendered by Henry VIII. to England in
separating it from Rome — ^Why has Cromwell no statue
in the Crystal Palace? — History of Manufacture poorly
shown at the Crystal Palace — Alliance of the Useful and
Fine Arts — The love of utility distinguishes modem com
munities — Conclusions to be drawn from the ensemble
of this Temple of History — New system of education — To
communicate ideas by means of external forms — The
Crystal Palace a school of democracy . . . - 238

CHAPTER X.
Religious life in forei^ missions — Ubiquity of England — ¦
Her moral conquests in the regions not under her sway
— The Bible Society — Stereo-typography — The confusion
of tongues — Difficulties met with iu translating the
Bible into the ancient Eastern dialects — William Wilber-
force — Colporteurs — The Society for the Propagation of
the Gospel iu Foreign Parts — The Church Missionary
Society — The Baptist Missionary Society — Museum of
the London Missionary Society — A god eaten by rats — A
new idol, manufactured by Christians — The Wesleyan
Missionary Society  260

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XL PASU
The Jolm Williams— The Duff—RSstoYj of the South-Sea
missions — John Williams the missionary — His Messen
ger cf i'eace— Cannibal tribes — W. Ellis — Man-eating
gods, even where their worshippers have ceased to eat
one another — The savage's idea as to the religion of the
English — Polynesian legends — It is easier to change the
gods of a nation than the heart of man — Native agents
— Story of Elekana — The missionaries teach the savages
the use of the alphabet — How can a written message
speak when it has no,mouth ? — Introduction of domestic
animals — ^A pair of shoes stolen by rats — An English
woman weeping because she had ceased' to like beef — The
savages' wives in bonnets and crinoline — The proselytism
of fashions — Alteration in manners — Missionary life —
Their houses — Their wives — Hurricanes — Man-stealers . 281
CHAPTER XII.
A female missionary enthusiast — William Moister — Sally
the African nursemaid — Departure for Africa — General
appearance of the coast — The dead man's house — Journey
through the desert — Waggons drawn by oxen — Travel
ling incidents and impressions — A black sovereign — Re
sults of his sneeze — Have Englishwomen any finger-nails ?
— Local fevers — Want of water — Opinions of the Negroes
as to Christianity — Robert Moffat — Slavery and the slave-
trade — A few words from Livingstone^— Landing of a
cargo of slaves rescued by English sailJrs— Opinions of
the missionaries as to Negroes — The Madagascar mission
— ItsmartjTS — Ranavahona the bloodthirsty — Radamall.
and the Rev. W. Ellis — Why the present Queen of Mada
gascar defends and preserves her idols .... 309
CHAPTER Xin.
China opened to the English missionaries — How little we
must believe in the intolerance of the Chinese — A
mandarin's eulogium on the Gospel — Have the Chinese

CONTENTS.

PAGE
any religion ? — The small value they set' upon their gods
— Why they will not change them — Material prosperity
of idolatry — Has it, on this account, more enduring
vitality ? — Plan of action necessary to convince the Chi
nese — Why they preserve their religion without believing
it — Effects of the appearance of Christianity in India
— Colenso and the Hindoo controversialists — Decline of
idolatry — A god at the bottom of a well — Influence of
education on the decline of the national religion — Asso
ciations of free-thinkers — Various prophecies announce
a change of religion — Obstacles to the spread of Chris
tianity — The system of caste — Answers of the Hindoos
to the Christian missionaries — Hindoo plans to appease
a restless soul — Itinerant missionaries — ^Women of India,
and their so-called seclusion — Mrs. Cooper — Stationary
missionaries — Mr. Joseph Higgins — A merry Christmas in
the BudwaU Valley — New system of universal writing —
Services to civilisation rendered by missionaries . . 330

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

CHAPTER I.
Religious life in the country — ^An English parish — The difference
between an English and a French village — The parsonage —
Why the Clergyman's residence is sometimes in a, state of
dilapidation — What is a living? — Origin of the right of
patronage — How it happens that the advowson, or right of
presentation, is a saleable property, and purchaseable by auc
tion — Who exercises this right ? — How does » man become
a Clergyman ? — The Curate's life— Whom does he marry ? —
Are the English Clergy paid by the State ? — When and how
the tithes were commuted — ^Various sources of income — Poor
livings — Sydney Smith — The Clergyman's wife — ^Various plans
for bettering the condition of country Incumbents — Difference
between the Rector and the Vicar- Influence of Curates on
the agricultural classes— Relations bjtween the Incumbent
and the Bishop— Parochial duties of the Clergyman— Life in
a parsonage.
One of the characteristic features of England since
the sixteenth century has been^the possession of a
National Church, commonly supposed to have been
established by H^nry VIII. A great many of our
neighbours, however, do not admire the conduct
of this king much more than we do, and question
B

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

his right to the honour of having upUfted the banner
of their faith. Henry VIII. caused a schism, but
he did not found a reUgion. On tlie contrary, his
violent passions, his persecutions, and his self-
interested views, only served to injure the cause of
the Reformation in Great Britain. The EngUsh
are wont to turn to more ancient and a thousand
times purer sources, when they try to seek out
the origin of their system of worship. They will
willingly trace up the commencement of their Pro
testantism to Wycliff, the reformer before the Re
formation, the humble priest who was — after his
death — judged and condemned for his reUgious
opinions, whose very bones the Council of Constance
ordered to be dug up. Wycliff's doctriues spread,
like seed carried by the wind, among the Lollards
and Hussites in England; and two centuries later,
these germs were again blown over to the shores
of England by the tempest raised by Luther over all
Europe. It would certainly be rash to deny that
the triumph of these new ideas was not assisted, on
the other side of the Chamiel, by various political
circumstances and by state policy ; but would it be
right to say that it was a movement impeUed by the
higher ranks ? Every thing, on the contrary, leads us
to believe that the religious refoxmation in England
proceeded mainly from the clergy and from the
people. The first divines who revolted against Rome de-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAISTD.

termined above every thing to abolish the principle
of absolutism in the government of the Church. In
its tardiness, and in the long period of its develop
ment, their work inuch resembled the grain of
mustard-^seed spoken of by &ie Evangelist. At its
beginning it was nexft to nothing; but as it in
creased and grew this germ became a great tree,
on which the fowls of the air— that is, the liberal
thinkers of the period — came to take their rest.
After the death of Henry VIII., in the too. short
reign of Edward VI., these new doctrines much
overstepped the Umits which a misty policy had laid
down for them. AU know how much this growing
Church was afterwards troubled by the sanguinary
reaction under Mary Tudor, the restless despotism
of Elizabeth, and the fervid controversies in Charles
I.'s time. Next, the transient triumph of the Pm-i-
tans changed the form of the liturgy, aboUshed the
episcopate, and made over the direction of spiritual
matters to the Westminster Assembly, composed of
one hundred and twenty divines and thirty laymen.
The Restoration, however, soon revived the former
Protestant hierarchy ; but the Established Church was
again rent asunder by terrible divisions. The Eng
lish too have had their St. Bartholomew's day, when
¦two thousand ministers persisted in abandoning their
livings, because of their unwiUingness to accept the
Prayer-book imposed upon them by authority ; and the
anniversary of this event, which took place in 1662,

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

is still celebrated with some bitterness in the Non
conformist chapels.
The Church can hardly be said to have rested on
an altogether firm foundation until after the revolu
tion of 1688. The name of the National Church,
which she still preserves, is intended to intimate that
she is held as orthodox by state authority, and that to
her alone is legaUy granted the right of levying tithes
and other imposts ; also that she is partly main
tained out of the public revenue, and siibject also in
part to state control. Any who reftise to aUy them
selves to the doctrines and the formularies of this
State Church have fuU and free Uberty to embrace
any other mode of worship ; but they are bound, to
a certain extent, to contribute pecuniarily towards
the expenses of carrying on the divine service esta
blished by law. For a long period besides they were
harassed with various civil disabUities, which have
nearly all been abolished or modified by .various
acts of parliament, mostly since the commencement
of the present centmy.
Religious sentiment has lost none of its vigour in
England since its separation from the Church of
Rome; one would, on the contrary, compare it to
a tree which only shoots out the more stui'dily for
having been lopped. The great movement of the
Reformation, while simpUfying the external cere
monies of worship, and relaxing in some respect
the trammels of dogmatism, has, on the contrary.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

tended only to concentrate the aspirations of men
towards the ideal. This Church, the chUd of Pro
testantism, is firmly based both on the Bible and on
definite civil authority, and it occupies no inconsi
derable position in the state ; but it is in the rural
districts, where reUgion has a more decided influence
on the daily life, that we shaU find it best to study
the organisation of the English parish. The cure
of souls, the interests of the national worship, and
the education of the people, are all committed to the
rector's or vicar's charge ; and he therefore exercises
a high moral authority in his own house, in the
church, and in the schools, and his active influence is
considered by all as one of the chief supports of the
monarchical government. They are also helped in
their labours by certain laymen, who in every thing
bring to bear a system of local influence quite worthy
the attention of any one seeking to penetrate into
the reaJ spirit of English institutions. The parish
may be said to bear the same relation to the general
construction .of the Church as the cell does to the
bee-hive. Several favourable .circumstances enabled me to
study some of the aspects of reUgious life in an Eng
Ush viUage. The hamlet I am speaking of is com
posed of a group of scattered houses, some standing
by the road-side, and some mounting the summit of a
Uttle hiU, whilst many lie half hidden in the deep and
shady lanes. Every thing wears a completely rm-al

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

aspect; the clumps of trees, the orchards fiUing up
the intervals between the cottages, and the hawthorn
hedges (thfe resort of the robin), aU seem a kind of
link between the villa and the farm. As it is a cider
country, the apple-trees are weighed down over the
fences, Covered all over with finit made rosy on one
side by the ripening sun. Few of the inhabitants
are to be seen in the viUage : the men are in the
fields ; and as to the women, they are far too busy
in their cottages to sit and talk at their doors, as
our labourers' wives in the south so readily do.
The birds round the corn-stacks are more noisy than
the women, and their twittering fiUs up the blank
caused by the want of the children's voices, who
are shut up during the day in the quiet school.
To ahy one coming from London, the transition
from all the noise and smoke to the rural quiet of a
scene like this is ftiU of a peculiar charm and sooth
ing sweetness.
One thing which especiaUy distinguishes English
viUages from ours is, that the former combine aU
classes of society within a limited circuit. The
manor-house of the squire stands by itself, an an
cient and venerable edifice, surrounded with lofty
trees of a hundred years' standing, on which the
rooks love to hold their nightly meetings, and to
fill the air with their tumultuous cawing. A good
rookery, be it remarked, is a great subject of pride
with every English gentleman. On the top of the

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

hiU stands a lairge stone house, inhabited by two
ladies of good family, fr'om iiie windows of which a
thoroughly EngUsh landscape' opens out to the view —
the dark-green meadows, whose wavy outlines contrast
weU with the sUvery mist of the evening sky. Other
elegant viUas, scattered over the neighbouirhood,
point out by their external appearance the refined
habits of those who live in them. This village is
situated at more than a hundred miles from the
capital, and seemfe at first sight to reaUse the ideal
of one of the idyls of Gesner; but it is, on the con
trary, nothing but a miniature of London set down
in the midst of the country.
It is the habit in England of the most important
famUies, instead of shutting themselves up in towns,
to distribute themselves in little groups over the
country districts. The constant dream of men of
business who have made their fortunes is to settle
themselves down in some rural neighbourhood, there
to lead the Uves of country gentlemen, and thus to
sweU the class of what are called the county families,
— a rather nnmerous class, holding a middle place
between business people and the nobUity. The de
scendants of these parvenus generaUy continue to live
on their estates, which are cultivated and beautified
at great expense ; and the more fortunate among
them very often marry into some of the oldest fami
lies of the country, inftisuig in this way fresh blood
into the veins of the landed aristocracy, — so caUed on

EELIGIOUS LIFE. IN ENGLAND.

the other side of the Channel because they more be
long to the land than the land belongs to them. The
church occupies the centre of the village, a symbol, as
it were, of the English pastor, who serves as a bond
of union between the various elements of a society so
imbued with religious influences. In his education
and manners he is one of the upper classes ; in his
evangelical character he is especiaUy the property of
the poor ; by the whole nature of his sacred charge he
belongs in common to aU men.
The vicarage, smTounded by walls and gardens,
is naturaUy at a very short distance fi'om the church;
the entrance is through a gateway opening on to a
lane, which, beginning among the dwelUngs, soon
loses itself among the trees and fields. It is a buUd
ing which certainly never proceeded, as a whole,
from the brain of any one architect, but which has
been formed by successive additions, just as the needs
of domestic life became more extended and refined.
An epitaph inscribed on one of the mossy grave
stones in the churchyard tells us that a vicar of this
parish, long since deceased, had added to his other
merits that of building a kitchen to the parsonage
at his own expense. The domestic ofiices, half hidden
by a screen of foliage, the stables, and the coach
house, aU seem to indicate a rather later origin than
that of the main body of the house. Be that as it
may, the whole of the dweUing seems to breathe a
quiet air of comfoi't — nay, even of sober luxury 

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

which presents a sfriking contrast to the humble and
slovenly abodes of our curds de campagne. Clusters of
climbing plants cover nearly half of the front of the
house ; and in the course of time they have shot up
so high, so thick, and so vigorously, that it takes all
the exertions of an old gardener, perched up on a
ladder, either to prune them, or to nail their luxuriant
branches to the wall. The other side of the house
is fitted up with a long greenhouse, full of beautiful
flowers, under the transparent roof of which twine
the festoons of the vine, supporting here and there
bunches of Muscat grapes.
The centre door opens into the hall, a sort of
square vestibule, communicating on one side with
the drawing-room, and on the other with the dining-
room. The vicar works during the day in his library,
also on the ground-floor. Folding-doors hide the
staircase, which, divided into two branches, leads up
to the bed-chambers. The latter are all separate, al
though joined by a long corridor, and are quite suffi
cient in number to accommodate the family, and at
the same time to enable all the duties of hospitality
to be fiiUy exercised. From the windows of the first
floor we can see a green lawn by the side of the
flower-garden, bordered by lofty trees, among the
summits of which the gray church-tower stands out
in bold relief; its summit was formerly topped by a
weathercock, which has been destroyed by lightning.
There is also belonging to the parsonage an excellent

10 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
kitchen-garden surrounded by waUs, and a couple
of large fields, the property of the church, where
some sheep are peaceably feeding. On the day I
arrived there, tSese meadows were the scene of a
rural f^te ; flags were floating iu the wind, tied at
intervals to the branches of the apple-trees ; the air
resounded with the joyous shouts of the cliildren in
the midst of their games ; and the grass was, as it
were, aU blooming with rosy faces animated by acti
vity. They were celebrating the school feast.
It must be confessed that all the EngUsh parson
ages are not like tliis. There are some which have
fallen into a state of dUapidation and decay, which
has latterly called forth the attention of the ecclesias
tical authorities. In principle, a parsonage is bound
to last for ever ; it is a spiritual property, which the
new incumbent receives as a Ufe-tenant at his induc
tion to the living, and which he is bound to trans
mit in as good condition to his successor. Spiritual
property, however, when it consists of bricks and
mortar, is not safer than any other fi'om the injuries
of time ; and it must at least be often repaired if
it is expected to be everlasting. There are some
parishes where the income of .the incumbent is
not at aU in accordance with the dimensions of liis
parsonage ; keeping up the house is then a heavy
charge upon him ; and unless his religious character
brings resignation with 'it, I can easily imagine he
would not bless tlie costly residence that only makes

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 11
him the poorer. Is it not an every-day occurrence
that the clergyman grows old ? — it is the common lot
— and unable even to watch over his own interests,
he neglects those of his successor. " The stones give
way by degrees, like the declining strength of the
master ; the floors tremble under even Ins uncertain
step ; the roof sinks over his bowed . head ; and the
whole edifice seems to share the sad decrepitude of
its inhabitant. In a case like this, the successor has a right to
bring an action against the last occupant, if he be
stiU alive, or, if not, against his heirs ; kindly feel
ings, ' however, often prevent such measm-es being
taken. Supposing that he enters upon them, a sur
veyor is named by each of the interested parties to
examine into the state of the premises, and a third
is appointed to reconcile any difference of opinion
between them. The arbitrator's task, in the present
state of the EngUsh law, is far from being so easy
as one would imagine. A law-suit sometimes fol
lows, which lasts for years, during which two advo
cates dispute over the ground — or rather over the
house — foot by foot, and, by their successive efforts
of eloquence, carry by assault the staircase to-day,
the windows to-morrow, and then the roof. In any
case, it is necessary that the last occupant should
have left behind him sufficient means to cover the
expenses of repairs; and this is not always the
case. In this way, certain parsonages in Great

12 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Britain have faUen into a state of great dilapidation,
as has been proved by several official inquiries.
The parsonage forms a part of the clerical emolu
ment, or, as it called, the living. To whom, then, it
will be asked, do these livings belong ? They are
generaUy the property ot patrons, as they are caUed
here.* It is not very difficult to get at the origin
of this right of patronage. Formerly, the nomination
of the ministers of worship belonged to the bishop
of the diocese ; but afterwards, the lord of the
manor, or any other great landowner, not satisfied
at having built a church at his own expense, would
perhaps set apart a portion of his estate, and en
cumber it with tithes in perpetuity, for the main
tenance of a resident priest. The close union of
the aristocracy and the clergy is nowhere more
strongly marked than in Great Britam, as we may
judge by the number of vUlages in which the
chm'ch stands within a gunshot of the castle. StiU,
the fate of the two buildings has often been very
different; the castle is in ruins, and almost hidden

* Of 11,728 livings which exist in England and Wales, 1114
are in the hands of the Crown, who presents to them through the
medium of the Lord Chancellor ; 1853 are distributed by the
Archbishops and Bishops ; 938 are at the disposal of the various
Deans and Chapters ; 770 are attached to the Universities of Ox
ford and Cambridge, and to the great schools, such as Eton, Win
chester, &c. ; 931 are given away by the incumbents of the mother
ehurehes (so called when cliapels of ease have been detached from
them) ; and the remainder (that is 6092) are held by various indi
viduals who are called patrons.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 13
by ivy and brambles ; while the church remains
standing in a sort of perpetual freshness, protected
by ,'the faitli of the inhabitants. A family likeness
in the architectural features bespeaks a common ori
gin for both; they are quite, as it were, brother
and sister.
In order to encourage the zeal of the lay nobUity
in buUding churches and in liberaUy endowing them,
the bishops were in the habit of granting to the
founder and his heirs the right of choosing the
minister of the parish. Things went on thus when
England was Catholic; and the Reformation made
but Uttle or no change. The Anglican Church has
remained, in its material construction, a branch of
feudaUsm. At the present day, when a living is
vacant, three persons play their part in filling it
up, — the patron, the clerk, and the bishop. The
patron is looked upon as the descendant or the
representative of the original founder, and from
this title enjoys the privilege of presenting to the
bishop of the diocese the clerk or clergyman whom
he considers fit to occupy the living committed to
his charge. This privilege is caUed the advowson
(from advocatio), because he who exercises it is
bound in conscience to protect the interests both of
the Church and of the futm'e incumbent. The clerk
is the clergyman recommended by the patron. As
to the bishop, or ordinary, his part is usuaUy
confined to registering in writing the request ad-

14 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
dressed to him by the lay guardian of the benefice.
He has, it is true, twenty days in which to con
sider and examine the vouchers of the candidate;
strictly, he can even reject him ; but in this case
he is compeUed to state why he rejects him {quare
impedit). The motives on which his refusal is
grounded may afterwai'ds be questioned in the courts
of law by either the patron or the rejected clergy
man, and the result will ultimately be decided by
a jury. The power, then, of the bishops in all that re
gards the presentation to Uvings has notliing dis
cretionary about it; it may be a possible check to
the influx of favouritism and to the interested man
oeuvres of the laity ; but it very rarely happens that
the ordinary exercises his right of veto, and the candi
date named by the patron may generaUy be looked
upon as the future incumbent. There are some cases
even where the approval of the bishop is not at all
necessary. The patron, who, under the circum
stances, is generaUy some nobleman of importance,
has the power of giving directly the church and the
benefice to the clergyman whom he has himself se
lected. Tliis is what is caUed a donative advowson,*
When the bishop has a right of intervening, he reads
* Most of the English civilians trace back the origin of these
donative advoivsons to the Crown. " The king," say they, " has
the right of founding churches and chapels independent of the
jurisdiction of the bishop ; and he can also, by special favour
transmit this prerogative to any of his subjects."

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 15
a written formula to the accepted candidate, and
hands to him a deed furnished with the episcopal
seaL He then directs the archdeacon, or some
otiier high official in his diocese, to instal the new
incumbent in his church and the enjoyment of his
rights. This being done, the clergyman becomes
what is caUed in England a parson (a minister in
right of a parish).
In the eyes of the law an advowson constitutes
an actual property ; it can be left by wiU, alienated,
or sold, either for , ever or for a term of years : it can
even be seized by creditors in the case of the patron
of a Uving dying in debt. This privUege very often
gives rise to another class of transaction. It every day
happens that the proprietor of an advowson makes
over the Tietct presentation to some third party for a sum
of money, — that is to say, he gives the right of nam
ing an incumbent when the benefice becomes vacant.
There are, indeed, some cures which are thus sold
in advance down to the second or third vacancy.
This sort of business occasionally figures in the news
papers, in the columns for advertisements. The pro
perty in an advowson is, besides, ruled by pecuUar
laws and some rather curious usages. A chUd of
the tenderest age can present a clergyman to a living
in his patronage. Even if he be unable to write, his
guardian, or any other person who has dictated his
choice, may guide his hand in signing the deed.
In any case where the patron becomes afflicted with

16 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND,
mental aberration, the Lord ChanceUor exercises the
right in his stead, — ^very often, though, in favour of
a member of the patient's famUy, in the event of
one of them happening to be in orders. Female
holders of an advowson have quite as much a voice
in the matter as the men ; and if there are several
joint-heiresses of the same right of presentation, and
they cannot agree as to the choice of a candidate,
they each present in turn, beginning with the eldest.
The power of making rectors and vicars belongs
to all sorts of laymen, and some of them perhaps .
may not be very orthodox; Ihe patron of a Uving
may b.e a dissenter, a Jew, or even an atheist, but
he must nM be a Catholic. It is, afier aU, easy
enough to see the motive for this last prohibition
at a time when the Catholic reUgion was a som-ce
of menace and danger to England. It was feared
that the patrons, many of whom belonged to ancient
families, might introduce priests of the Romish Church
into the benefices, and, in the biblical language of
the period, thus tlu'ow open the sheep-fold to the
wolves. The exercise of this right of advowson may cer
tainly engender more than one abuse, and even
clergymen themselves admit this ; we must not,
however, forget that in a country where any thing
and every thing may be either said or written, tlie
choice of an incumbent is to some extent subject
to the sanction of public opinion. . Without this

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 17
guarantee, many ancient usages would perhaps have
long ago disappeared in England ; and it is chiefly
in this sense that among our neighbours liberty has
shown itself as a conservative element. We must
also note that this intervention of the lay element in
selecting the ministers of the Church permits wealthy
people ito purchase this right of presentation in order
to estabUsh some one of their protigds. The right of
^advowson also is, in a way, the opening through
which the younger sons of noble families, and the
scions of the aristocracy of money, can make their
way into benefices of the Church.
To be in a position to obtain a benefice, it is
necessary previously to have been ordained a priest.
How then do persons become clergymen in Eng
land ? Every young main who intends to take orders
begins at first by following a university course, and
he must attain the degree of bachelor of arts at least.
Without this degree he will not, except under pecu
liar circumstances, find any bishop that wiU accept
him, nor any rector or vicar who would employ him
as curate,* and he would certainly make no way in
the Church. A good classical education, therefore,
is considered as the basis of the priestly training.
Besides, a residence in the universities presents many
* It must be understood that in England the ecclesiastical
ranks are inverted, if we compare them with those existing in
France. The Vicar (or Rector) is the ecclesiastical chief of the
parish, whilst the Curate is only a deputy, curator animarum.

18 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
advantages ; a candidate for Holy Orders may have
elbowed on the benches of the lecture-room a Byron,
a SheUey, or a Stuart MiU; he has lived in the
midst of independent minds and unfettered studies.
There no moral pressure determines his choice, and
he voluntarily embraces a clerical career. He is not
like those who have been separated fi'om the world
from their infancy, and have learnt to curse the age
that they know nothing about, and to dread the mere
phantom of society that they only look at through the
terrors of their conscience. Up to this point his
studies have been nothing but literary ; the bishop,
however, requires of him, besides his diploma as
bachelor of arts, a certificate testifying that he has
gone through a course of lectures of the Professor
of Divinity at the university. In every thing else
there is nothing to distinguish him extemaUy from
the other students he associates with, and in liis habits
he has no resemblance at aU to the sdminariste.
After . having taken his degree, the candidate for
orders prepares for the bishop's examination. Unless
he be & fellow of some college, he also looks out for
some rector or vicar who will be wiUing to nominate
him as his curate, when he has become one of the
clerical body. This rector or vicar then signs a paper
which is called a title to orders, and on which is
specified the amomit of the stipend attached to the
office. This is usuaUy about 80?. per annum ; it is
not very often, in any case, that the sum exceeds

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 19
lOOZ, There are some incumbents who do not at
all Uke giving titles in this way, because, in the first
place, .they are thus obliged, to give a trial to quite
inexperienced men, and also becanse a newly-ordained
curate is only a deacon during the two first years of
his ministry, and cannot therefore administer the
Sacrament of Communion, or, as it is caUed here,
the Lordls Suppef.* Some are found, however, who,
having the interests of the Church in view, or for
some other reason, wiU consent to give an apprentice
ship, as it were, to the young minister.
Furnished with his university degree and with
his title for orders, and also with a certificate of
good conduct for the three last years preceding Ins
appUcatipn, the young candidate now presents him
self to the bishop, who examines him in Greek,
Latin, and Divinity. If he comes out victorious from
the test, he is ordained by the bishop of the diocese
as a deacon of the Church, and receives from him a
license, empowering him to officiate as a curate for
two years, under the direction of the incumbent
nominating him. By the expiration of this period
he must necessarily have learnt much in his visits to
the poor and affUcted ; he wiU have tried his oratori
cal talents in the pulpit, and wiU be fiiUy acquainted
with aU the duties imposed upon him by his vocation,
* The custom in the Church of England is to ordain deacons.
at not less than twenty-three years of age, and priests at twenty-
five at least.

20 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
When he wishes to make a further step in the Church,
he must again present himself to the bishop of the
diocese, arid must pass a second examination, with a
view of being ordained a priest. This ceremony,
like the former ordination, takes place in the cathe
dral. The ceremonial is grave and imposing ; but no
idea of a voluntary death or of a renunciation of the
world is at all appealed to in the Protestant rites in
this service. The new priest is only bound to sub
scribe to the Thirty-nine Articles of Religion and to
the Prayer-book,* and thus engages to beUeve and
profess the doctrines of the Anglican Church.
Now, henceforth endued with the priestly charac
ter, the young clergyman more often continues to
officiate as curate in a parish. And in this position
he very often makes an advantageous marriage. In
doing this a young clergyman has more than one
advantage over other men : in the first place, he is
admitted into the very best society, and there are
very few agricultural districts where there are not a
good many rich and respectable families within a few
miles round. These families exercise hospitality ac
cording to the old EngUsh ti-aditions, and there are
very few great dinners given in which a place at table
is not kept for the curate of the parish. Being a
bachelor, he lodges in the village just as he can, and

* These Thirty -nine Articles, which contain the prof ession ¦ of
faith of the English Reformed Church, were adopted in 1571 by
Queen Elizabeth and by Act of Parliament.

RELIGIOUS LIFE EST ENGLAND. 21
his indoor arrangements are generally of the most
modest character ; but his education and manners
will bear comparison vrfth those of any of the upper
classes. The Unk of their works of charity in com
mon soon establishes between him and the young
heiresses of the neighbourhood a kind of respectftd
intimacy, which in many cases may easily hide a
more tender sentiment. Besides, he appeals to the
heart in its very noblest perceptions ; his youth, his
eloquence, and his reUgious zeal, aU become involun
tary means of fascination with the feebler and more
enthusiastic sex. Attachments of this sort are like
the " still waters," which, according to the English
proverb, " run deep," and at the same time reflect
the blue sky above them. Many a young lady among
the aristocracy, who would refiise to marry a lawyer
or a doctor, would not at all deem it a mdsalliance
if she united herself to a member of the clerical body.
By means of marriages thus contracted a portion
of the wealth of the upper classes finds its way into
the hands of the ministers of the Church. ,
The married curate generaUy aspires to becoming
a rector or a vicar ; but, in order to attain his end a
number of requisites are necessary. The. greater
part, unfortunately, never rise above the so-caUed
inferior grade. He who has neither influence, nor
powerful recommendations, nor extraordinary per
sonal qualities, wiU remain a curate aU his fife, miless
he be rich. Those, on the contrary, who have power-

22 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
ful interest, or are distinguished in learning, may
obtain a living either from the Queen, the bishop, the
Universities, or one of the metropoUtan Chapters.
The others — ^that is, those who have money — enter
tain the hope of buying one ; they must not, how
ever, do tins themselves, or they would render them
selves guilty of simony. The way it is managed is
this : some friend, or a member of their famUy, buys
for them, from the holder of an advowson, the right
of the next presentation on the death of the present
incumbent.* The value of the living thus indirectly
bought depends, as one would imagine, on several
conditions ; but the contracting parties never faU to
take notice beforehand whether the parsonage is in
good or bad repair, and to ascertain the annual in
come derivable from the benefice. The payment is-
considered in every case as money invested, on which
interest is looked for.
The Church of England presents the extraordinary
spectacle of a state church which is not paid by the
State. She depends upon a very large ftmd of pro
perty, accumulated for ages by the piety of the faithful
mider the form of dotations. The principal sources
of income in a rural Uving are : the land belonging
* It is easy to suppose that several kinds of fraud might creep
into these transactions: the law has therefore sought to resist
causes which tended to corrupt the sources of clerical dignities.
For instance, the right of presentation cannot be sold after the
living has become vacant, nor even during the last illness of the
incumbent.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 23
to the parsonage, the tithes, the church-rates, — these,
however, are exclusively devoted to the repairs of the
church and the maintenance of divine worship, — the
Easter offerings, and the surplice fees. The tithe is ¦
usually the most productive of all these sources of
revenue. Tithe is a word which wiU, I fear, sound
offensive in French ears. With us the Revolution,
and subsequently the Concordat, have fundamentaUy
altered the constitution of the Church, without inter
fering with its doctrines or with the CathoUc Uturgy.
Just the reverse has taken place in England ; there
the Reformation considerably modified reUgious dog
mas, but for the most part respected the ancient or
ganisation and privileges of the clerical body. Thus
we have the phenomenon of a Protestant Church
grafted, as it were, upon the institutions of the
Middle Ages. *
Twenty years ago, however, tithes, under their
ancient form, were not a bit more popular on that
side of the Channel than on this. As to abolishing
them, though, this was not even thought of; they
constituted a property belonging to the Church, which
was recognised by law, and had been handed down
from generation to generation ; which also was based
on ancient contracts. The English do not deal incon
siderately with titles such as these. It was, however,
a clergyman. Dr. Paley, who, being himself struck
with the inexpediency of this impost, proposed to
commute them. The disturbed state of the Church of

24 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Ireland, where the collection of tithes met with obsti
nate resistance on the part of the CathoUcs, determined
the success of this measure, which was not definitively
adopted until 1838, although it had been recommended
since 1832 by committees of both houses of parUament.
In each parish of England and Ireland an annual pay-
'ment, representing the value of the ancient offerings,
was substituted for the tenth part of aU commodities
constituting the large and small tithes. Almost every
where a mutual agreement between the landed pro
prietors and the tithe-holders arranged the terms of
this commutation ; and in any case where the parties
interested could not come to an understanding, com
missioners intervened to set matters right.
This tax is now settled upon landed property; but
it may vary according to the price of corn, reckoning
it from the seven last»years. Li order to avoid aU
dispute, the Comptroller of Cona-retums publishes
every January the average value of a bushel of wheat,
barley, and oats during the period fixed by law. Thus
the incumbent receives his share of the crop in money
and not in kind. It is easy to see that this system of
fluctuation in the impost introduces some uncertainty
into the amount of the rector's or vicar's income.
Supposing that the tithes have been commuted for
300Z. a year, it may nevertheless happen that, in
. consequence of the variations in the price of corn,
a minister may sometimes receive only 260?., and
sometimes perhaps SiOl.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 25
The greater part of the English parsonages have
some land attached to them, known under the name
of the glebe, which the incumbent can either let or
farm himself. The church-rates are always appro
priated to the maintenance of the sacred edifice. The
Easter offerings are a kind of voluntary contribution.
Every year at Easter the parish clerk waits upon all
the gentry and shopkeepers with a little book, in
which, on behalf of the vicar, he asks them to put
down their offering. As to the surplice fees, they
are made up, as with us, of the sums payable for
marriages, burials, &c. AU these sources of income
joined together make up what is caUed in England a
'living ; for the minister receives no payment properly
so caUed. There is the greatest possible inequality
among livings ; some are like the promised land,
flowing with mUk and honey, «and others more re
semble the dry and unproductive desert.
There are in England more than ten thousand
parishes, differing from one another more or less
in importance and extent. Every thing shows that
there was no plan followed in fixing the boundaries
of these ecclesiastical districts, but that they were
formed just as it happened, according to the caprice
of the original recipients of the endowment. In them
the traces of the feudal rdgime stiU remain indicated
in the distribution of the soil ; and the limits of the
parish often coincide with the boundaries of the
manor. The zeal, generosity, and pecuniary means

26 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
of n(!)ble fanulies — indeed various accidental causes —
have thus fixed the value of the living; that is, the
provision devoted to the maintenance of the clergy
man. It has been calculated that the average of
these livings does not amount to more than 3001.
a year each; but as the incomes of some of the
incumbents mount, much above this sum, others
must naturaUy receive much less.* In the latter
case the clergyman is often much embarrassed ; and
he is reaUy all the poorer because he is compeUed to
conceal his poverty.
In England every position imposes its obUgations.
How often have I known gentlemen who ruined
themselves, or perhaps deprived iliemselves of the
* There are some livings — not many, it is true — ^which do not
bring in more than 50Z. to lOOZ. a year. Certain ecclesiastical dis
tricts, as, for example, that of St. Mark's, Horsely down, have neither
parsonage, nor school, nor any public service whatever, and yet
its population amoimts to 2920 inhabitants. Other districts, on
the contrary, enjoy a revenue which they ought to have no right
to. At Merston, between Gravesend and Eochester, there is a
parish of which the living, in the patronage of the Lord Chan
cellor, is estimated to be worth 901, a year. The church has long
since disappeared, and since 1455 there have been no inhabitants.
This sinecure is generally granted to some neighbouring incum
bent, whose income is thereby increased. The clergyman who
lately succeeded to the living of Merston came to take possession.
It was on a Sunday, and a large tent was pitched on the site of the
former church, in which a congregation of 600 persons assembled,
no doubt drawn together by the novelty of the spectacle ; and the
singing of psalms rose up in the midst of the solitude. This
religious service was, without doubt, both the first and the last
which will be celebrated at Merston during the life of the present
incumbent.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 27
necessaries of life, in order to sacrifice to appear
ances ! The vicar's wife must be dressed like a lady.
A practised eye might, indeed, discover a difference
between her toilet and that of the squire's or a rich
rector's wife ; but still it is necessary that the common
people should notice this difference as little as pos
sible. His children, on the other hand, must be clean
and well-dressed, as gentlefolks' children are ; and
as to himself, he is obliged to wear a white neckcloth
and a good black cloth coat ; in one word, he must
present the respectable exterior of a clergyman. Add
to all this the keeping up of the parsonage, which
must not be aUowed to get into bad repair. When,
as is often the case, the clergyman finds the balance
unequal between his income and his expenses, he
generaUy tries to better his condition by some means
or other. He is prohibited by law from going into
business ; but he is aUowed, with the consent of the
bishop of the diocese, to farm for seven years a por
tion of land not exceeding eighty acres. This was
the resource of the father of Oliver Goldsmith, the
Dr. Primrose of the Viear of Wakefield, who was, at
the same time, both farmer and priest. Others receive
young people in their houses as boarders, for the pur
pose of instruction. There are some also who write
for the magazines and reviews.
However poor the clergyman may be, his family
generaUy receive a liberal classical education. Having
nothing better to bequeath to theiri, he bounteously

28 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
imparts to them aU that he himself possesses. His^
daughters even do not escape this clerical influence,
and in the quiet retreat of the parsonage they some
times become perfect models of scholarship. Some
of them are even accomplished Greek scholars, and
perhaps help their fathers in translating for the Lon
don bookseUers some of the ancient authors of the
primitive church. I must say that this profound
education, resulting from retirement and the strict
routine of an orderly life, is not very conducive to
helping on the marriages of the daughters of the
clergy and their establishment in the world. Many
a young man of no very deep intellectual power wiU
shrink fi'om the idea d^dpouser les saints pires. In
spite of the richest flaxen tresses, the most fascinating
blue eyes, and the slenderest white hand, aU urging
their apologies for the treasures of ancient eloquence,
a clergyman's daughter without fortune very often
finds herself wedded to Greek all her life.
The struggle of some clergymen with aU tlie harsh
necessities of life does not always shut out every indi
cation of gaiety in these Christian philosophers. The
Reverend Sydney Smith, one of the most channing
of English humorists, is never so amusing as when he
relates, as cheerfully as possible, all his personal tribu
lations. The parsonage of his own building ; his ftir-
niture roughly put together from a stock of deal bouo-ht
by chance ; his old carriage, M^iich came out fresh
again every year, owing to the repairs necessary to

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 29

prevent its tumbling to bits ; the stumpy gardener's
wife, formed by nature like a milestone, of whom he
made a butler : — aU these things vividly depict the Ufe
of a poor country vicar in some districts in England.*
In a case like this the clergyman's wife exercises
much influence on the well-being of the household.
Busy as a bee and not less fi-ugal, she acts as minister
in the indoor life of the parsonage by the same title
as her husband does in the chm'ch. She is the in
structress of the younger children, and in every way
helps to eke out the slender resources of the living.
And then with how much better grace than her hus
band does she sometimes yield to the mortifying
necessity of having to accept the bounty of a bene
factor ! Whilst the former, once an Oxford or Cam
bridge man, fries to hide his deprivations under the
haughty gravity of a stoical mind, how wiUingly does
she glean up in the Church's field any of those sheaves
which are left by the hands of the rich ! After all is
said, is she not a mother, and must she not think of
her chUdren ?
Several systems have been proposed to do away
with this inequality in livings, at least in part. It
wiU be sufficient if we mention those that really exist.
A ftmd known under the name of Queen Anne's
Bounty, formed by an ecclesiastical impost on the
first-fruits of the land, was instituted, even before
* See Memoir of the Rev. Sydney Smith, by his daughter, Lady
Holland ; with a selection from his Letters.

80 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
the time of Queen Anne, to augment the resources
of certain livings. Tlie adminisfrators of this ftmd
(the Governors of Queen Anne's Bounty) are mostly
dignitaries of the Church of England, and are in
the habit of making an addition to the incomes of
small livings under 2001. a year. Various societies,
based upon a system of voluntary confributions, also
come to the help of the clergy who are in need.*
An Ecclesiastical Commission has been formed within
the last few years, to open up in the Church itself a
new source of income, and thus to ameliorate the
position of country incumbents.
In every diocese, the bishops, deans, and chapters
have been the possessors from time immemorial of
large property, consisting chiefly of landed estates.
FoUowing an ancient custom, these estates have been
let for a certain number of Uves, usually three. The
first of this series of tenants paid at his coming-in
a considerable sum of money, known under the name
of a fine; and a small annual sum was afterwards
paid as rent during the whole remainder of the
lease. In this way, those members of the great

* One of these Societies lately celebrated its 211th anniver
sary, under the presidency of the Prince of Wales. This was the
Festival of the Sons of the Clergy. This Society assists every year
1250 persons, of whom 712 are either the widows or orphans of
clergymen. There is also the Poor Clergy Belief Society, the Secre
tary of which, the Rev. W. G. Jervis, published in 1861 a touching
report, full of well-authenticated facts, as to the extreme misery
of 400 clergymen belonging to the Church of England.

*
RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 31
ecclesiastical bodies who were Uving at the time
when a contract Uke this was entered into had an
unfair preference given them, to the detriment of
their successors. It is true that the latter might
enjoy the same advantage, if they were fortunate
enough to outlive the expiration of the lease ; but
some time was naturaUy necessary to wipe out three
men's lives. In order to disfribute the revenues of
the corporation more equaUy among the successive
members, it was at last decided that whenever any
of the tenants should chance to die, another one
might be substituted, who should pay an agreed fine
at his entering on the tenancy.
Such was the system of Ufe-tenancy under which
most of the landed estates of the Church were man
aged when the Commission entered upon its labours.
Struck with the inexpediency of this plan, and
with the too smaU profit which the Chiu'ch drew
from her property, the Commission proposed to take
in hand the ecclesiastical estates, and to give in ex
change property free from aU liabiUty, and averaging
in its annual income that which the chapters had
received under the system of tithes. This alteration
promises great advantages; and the surplus income
is to be applied to the augmentation of small Uvings.
It is said that the resources of the EngUsh clergy
wiU be so far improved by this method of dealing
with them, that no country incumbent wiU receive
less than 300?. a year.

32 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
The clergy is represented in the rural districts
by the rector, the vicar, and the curate. The rector
is a clergyman who receives all the tithes of a parish.
The vicar, as appears from the derivation of the word,
is one who acts in the place of another — vicarius. At
a long-distant period, certain patrons of the Church,
who had it in their own power to nominate a rector,
yielded up this right in favom* of monasteries, or
some other religious communities. The monks, in
stead of naming a rector, made a profit of it, by
having the duties of the cure performed by one of
their own body, or by some other paid minister,
and thus appropriated the income of the benefice
for their own establishment. It has come to pass,
in this way, that many churches in England have
been stripped of their income by the convents. In
some cases the bishops interfered, and compeUed -the
religious bodies no longer to content themselves with
make-shifts who could any day be dismissed, but to
appoint a fixed minister, and to aUot to him a por
tion of the tithes. Such is the origin of vicars. In
cases like this, the convent did not fail to keep its
double character of patron and rector, and in both
these characters to take the lion's share ; and this is
why so many vicarages are at the present_ time so
slenderly provided for.
At the time of the Reformation, aU the property
of the monastic orders was seized upon by the
Crown, and this confiscation also extended to the

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 33
beneficial interests that they might have in various
parishes. Some of this property was returned to the
clergy, but a still greater portion was sold to differ
ent persons. A class was thus formed in England
of Lay Impropyriators. These are, in fact, the rectors
of the parish; and the vicars perform for them all
the spiritual duties of the cure, receiving in return
that portion of the tithe which the rector pleases to
allow them.
The curate, on his side, is the assistant of the
rector or vicar ; but he cannot be dismissed by either
of them. He is, to a certam extent, licensed by the
bishop at the nomination of the rector, and the agree
ment with him can only be broken by episcopal au
thority. There generaUy exists, however, a private
arrangement between the contracting parties, by
which the curate binds himself in honour to retire
in case the rector finds that he does not suit. Al
though much worse paid, the curate is sometimes
more eloquent than his superior, and is also more
popular in the parish. The labouring men are in
seneral rather timid of the rector ; he is too rich for
them. The yomig curates, on the confrary, still in
full possession of all the freshness of clerical zeal,
sympathise generaUy with the poorer classes, and
work nobly for their good. Amidst all the confu
sion of doctrine stirred up by an age of doubt and
free inquiry, they busy themselves more readily in
good works than in religious controversy. " Action,

34 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

in any case," is their motto, and they are exercising
a real influence over the people.*
One feature which distinguishes almost aU the
grades in the Anglican hierarchy is, that the mem
bers of them do not depend entirely on the Church.
A great number of rectors and vicars are the sons
either of noble parents, of rich merchants, or of landed
proprietors, and have personal property either of
their own, or through their wives ; and this natm-ally
gives them a kind of independence. It is almost
necessary that' this should be the case; for how else
could they afford to carry on the works of charity
in their parishes, and to establish schools — the ex
pense of which in great measure faUs upon them —
and also to provide for a curate? Country vicars,
taking one with another, possess private means equal
to the income that they derive from their Uvings. It
can scarcely be said, therefore, that the Church main
tains the clergy; for at least, in a great measure,
it is the clergy who maintain the Church. A posi
tion like this, so uncommon in other counfries, has
tended much to develop the social and political in
fluence of the ministers of religion in England. A
clergyman wiU freely mingle in aU tlie pleasant en
tertainments of the neighbourhood; for he is not cut
* The name of curate is also given — but in this case it is
OBMeA perpetual curate — to the minister of a church in which no
vicarage has ever been established, or to the minister of a chapel
founded since the establishment of the parish by the benevolence
of some pious soul.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 35
off from the upper classes by celibacy, the prejudices
of religious caste, or by any great inferiority of for
tune. Instead of humbly sitting down at the table
of some rich man, and eating a dinner he is not able
to offer a return for, he, on the confrary, can invite
to his own house baronets, lords, and judges; thus
disarranging the order of rank in the equality of
inteUect. His talents, which thus count for capital
in England, give him a right to be Ustened to ; for
many country clergymen are both learned and weU
acquainted with literature ; many of them might have
chosen some other career, and might easily have
made themselves famous by the efforts of their
genius. The position of the EngUsh incumbent is not at
aU subject to the caprice of the bishop, as is the case
with our Curds de campagne. He has bought his ap
pointment, -or some one else has bought it for him,
which amounts to the same thing; it is, tlierefore,
vested in him as a kind of property ; and it is weU
known what a respect our neighbours have for vested
rights. According to some people, this respect has
been pushed rather too far, and has been injurious,
in some instances, to the discipUne of the Church.
The bishop has scarcely any means of displacing an
incumbent unfaithful to his duties : he can, it is true,
proceed against him in the ecclesiastical courts; but
little except scandal results from this course ; and it
is seldom that he obtains any actual redress. A liti-

36 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
gation of this sort took place some years ago in Eng
land. A clergyman, backed up by the lord of an
ancient manor, had for some years led a not very
edifying life. After having in vain exhausted both
remonstrance and advice, the spiritual chief of the
diocese determined to have recourse to legal means.
The bishop spent a great deal of money; the noble
friend of the clergyman spent still niore; and the
end of it all was, that after some very long proceed
ings, the clergyman got off, if not exculpated, at
least with impunity.
It may sometimes hapjJen, on the otlicr hand, that
the conduct of an incumbent may not give rise to
any cause for censure, but yet that he may entertain
opinions contrary to those held to be orthodox in the
Anglican Church ; in this case, also, it i.s very diffi
cult to touch him. The fact is, tliat at the time of
the Reformation, the Anglican Church, having just
passed from mider the authority of the Pope into the
hands of the Sovereign, became so subject to the civil
authorities, and so mixed up with Ihe administration
of secular matters, that she finds herself, even at the
present day, quite disarmed and almost powerless in
restraining any abuses in her own members.
In striking confrast to the above, the bishop may
exercise an absolute and arbitrary control over the
actions of the curate ; he can either suspend or dis
miss him at will. It is not difficult to see the cause
for this difference ; the curate is a mere stipendiary,

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 37
whilst the incumbent seems, as it were, unassailable
behind the laws of property, which shelter him like a
rampart against all the thunders of ecclesiastical au
thority. We can very easily see that the English clergy
have not taken as literal the advice of the Evange
list as to the fowls of the air and .the lilies of the
field, but, on the contrary, have considered it pru
dent to lay up a good store of flax wherewith to spin
cloth for their surplices, and, when they could man
age it, to construct barns wherein to gather their
abundance. In a country where the possession of
property is a great source of influence, it is necessary
to be rich, if you wish to be powerful ; and in this aim
the clergy have been assisted from time to time by
the piety of the faithftil. We shaU not be right,
however, in thinking that a care for their material
interests on the part of the clergy eats up all the
energy of their religious convictions. The Anglican
Cluu'ch is an institution which is at the same time
both temporal and spiritual ; but it is with reference
to the latter that she manages to command the re
spect of the population generally.
Even Protestantism has its ideal ; but this ideal
always finds its reaUsation in practical duties. One
of the principal things which is looked for in a
country incumbent is his example : his house must
be a model of propriety ; for in the eyes of the Eng
lish aU reUgious duties commence in domestic life.

¦'&'

38 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

Ill order to accomplish this, a clergyman should be
married; for how could he present to others the
type of all thes^ home wtues if he be debarred froin
exercising them by any personal vows ? The moral
force, which constantly distinguishes the middle
classes in England, takes its rise in great part from
their mode of Uving. In England every one has his
own separate home, in which he shuts up aU the best
feelings of his heart. This separation assists those
habits of reflection and refrospection, which scarcely
ever fail to evolve a certain religious ideal. A seclu
sion — which is in no way either restrictive or forbid
ding — will thus develop the moral quaUties of the
individual, — that inner life and those noble feelings
which raise a man to a fit relation with nature and
nature's God. A parsonage surrounded with peace
ful verdm'e, and hidden like a nest under the shade
both of its lofty trees and of the venerable church, is
better situated than most places for study and reverie.
In the recesses of a calm refreat Uke this, a heart
must either be absorbed in self-communing, or it
must elevate itself to God.
The employment of the time and the arrangement
of the day is strictly regulated in an EngUsh parson
age. At eight o'clock in the morning the breakfast-
bell rings. The frugal meal is preceded by family
prayers, read by the minister, in which the whole of
tlie inmates, including the servants, take a part.
During the morning the vicar works in his study, or

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 39'
visits the poor. With his round hat on, and his
gold-headed cane under his arm, he saunters along
the lanes. The school-children bow' to him as he
passes ; and some of the boldest of them, perhaps,
wiU even dare to speak to him. A venerable clergy
man leaves behind him a long train of reminiscences
on the viUage memory: his kind words, his smile,
the way in which he used to speak to the children,
are aU enshrined in the recollection of those who
have known him, and are talked over round their
firesides. At one o'clock the vicar's family are again
assembled round the table for lunch ; and both before
and after the meal grace is said, and thanks are re
turned in a short form of words. The afternoon is
• devoted to visiting, to excursions, or to the transac
tion of any parochial business. Half an hour before
dinner every one retires to his room to dress. When
the bell rings, they come down to the drawing-room,
where there are often guests invited by the master or
misfress of the house. EngUsh incumbents are con
stantly in the habit of receiving company; these
social relations form a bond of union between the
Church and the charitable families in the parish.
After the dinner, which is arranged according to the
usual EngUsh customs, the ladies first, and then the
gentlemen, return to the drawing-room, where they
take tea, and occasionally have some music.
There are some incumbents, not very many, it is
true, who have latterly conceived the rather happy

40 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

idea of inviting once a week the farmers, and on
another day the very labourers, to spend the evening
with them. If this example were generally followed,
it would form an exceUent means of elevating the
lower classes. The party breaks up about eleven ;
and the inmates being once more alone, the minister
reads the evening family prayers. These few simple
habits are constantly followed out in many other
English houses : how, then, is there any peculiarity
about the parsonage ? It can only consist in a kind
of aroma of old customs, in the sanctity of social re
lations joined to domestic life, and in the beam of
light which religious ideas always shed on a quiet
and well-regulated home.

CHAPTER II. •
The Church— The Sunday services— System of seats— Why there
is no altar in Protestant churches — Morning service — AVhy
the English can call themselves Catholics — The Funeral
Service — " Harvest-Home"— Church-rates and Vestry Meet
ings — The parish oflicers — Churchwardens — Village clubs —
The Incumbent who is liked by the parishioners, and the In
cumbent who is not liked — Charities and parochial visiting.
Sunday is naturaUy the principal day when the
minister's functions are exercised in public. About
half-past ten in the morning the church-bells begin
ringing, and summon the church-goers to their public
worship. Some groups of rustics are already assem
bled in the churchyard, which is a sort of Sunday
place of meeting, a kind of rural forum, where the
interests of the living are discussed among the
graves. Sunday rubs off the rust of the week :
people dress in their best, and meet other folk ; and
even those who have kept aloof from the rest of the
world aU the week renew to-day their associations
with social life. All try to look their best in the
eyes of the vUlage ; the young girls especiaUy seek
to enhance their personal advantages, and glory in
putting on the showy produce of their savings. The
clergyman is not long before he passes tlirough the
churchyard on his way to the vestry ; he is bowed to.

42 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
as he passes, by sedate rustics, whose countenances
breathe an honest freedom. If the weather is rainy,
or, stiU more, if it is harvesirtime, it often happens
that his congregation is not very numerous. In
this case he nlanages to hide a sort of reprimand
under an appearance of kind interest and solicitude.
Questioning his parishioners one after the other, he
inquires after their wife, their mother, or their son :
Are they iU, that he does not see them coming to
church? The honest people weU miderstand him,
and, with a half-blushj' mutter some Uttle excuse. A
clergyman once had as parishioner a squire who
never attended public worship ; the minister offered
one day to pray for him before aU the congregation.
" Why so ?" asked the astonished gentleman. " Be
cause," replied the rector, "you never pray for
yourself." The story does not say if the menace was
effectual in overcoming the resistance of the rebel
lious squire.
At last the church opens. The inside is remark
able for its exfreme simplicity : no statues, no pic
tures, not even a cross. There are some races who
seem to believe through their eyes ; but the Anglo-
Saxon tribe, on the contrary, decUnes the intervention
of the senses in performing their religious duties.
They distrust the seductions of external beauty, and,
foUowing the very expression of one of the reformers,
they close their eyes and ears to the perfidious beau
ties of the siren. One of the " heaviest reproaches

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 43
which the EngUsh Protestants bring against our
churches is, that they resemble a theafre. The
ancient edifices have been, in England, purified of
every trace of superstition, — that is, have been de
prived of the images that fiUed them. The severe
simplicity of the pointed arches, supported at inter
vals on thick pDlars, is only modified in some cases
by the gay colour of the painted glass, and by plates
of brass curiously engraved, marking out the ancient
tombs. These old churches were for a long time
used as a sort of Necropolis. Charles Dickens de
clares that they are redolent of the dead, and that
one sneezes in them from sniffing up the dust of past
generations. This is not, however, the case in most
of the counfry churches, where, in the summer time,
. there comes in through the opened doors the sweet
perfinne of the meadows and the newly-mown grass.
Protestantism, in grafting its Liturgy on ^the
ancient CathoUc edifices, has altered the arrangement
of the seats or pews, which now invade almost the
whole of the church, converging round the pulpit.
From this feature, who would not at once recognise
a reUgion in great measure founded on oral ad
dresses? The seats, enclosed in wooden compart
ments called pews, are assigned for the year to dif
ferent famUies by the churchwardens. The Enghsh
love a heme, even in God's house. Thus it-was for
merly their custom to isolate themselves in groups
or in famiUes, by means of curtains shutting them

44 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
out from the view of other persons. This system of
individualism, or of separation, — ojDposed by man}-
members of the clergy, as doing away with tho idea
of common prayer, aimed at in the Protestant ritual —
has happily disappeared in most of the English
churches. Another feature, which will strike a foreigner at
first sight, is the absence of an Altar. It has been
replaced by the Communion-table ; for to Protestant
eyes the Communion is a symbol, and scarcely a
sacrament in our way of looking at it. The abolition
of the Mass has been every where the starting-point
of the religious reformation. The portion of this
ceremony chiefly disliked by the Protestant divines
was the sacrifice of a flesh-and-blood victim : the
ffloomv image of the slaughtered lamb brought back
Christianity, they said, to the ancient forms of the
Jewish and pagan worship. When the sacrifice was
suppressed in England, the altar must necessarily
fall too.
The priest enters the reading-desk, and the ser
vice commences. Clothed ui a long white surplice
with floating sleeves, the shape of which has not been
clianged since the epoch of the Reformation, he reads
in a loud voice the morning service in the Book of
Common Prayer. This service is naturally in Eng
lish, for ¦ the Protestant addresses his God in his
national tongue only. The minister's voice alternates
with that of the congregation, who respond according

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 45
to the forms of the rubric. Every now and then
sacred singing, accompanied by the deep tones of the
organ, soars up to the vaulted roof. The officiating
minister also reads some passages of the Scriptures.
The attention of the bishops and tlie press has been
much drawn of late in England to the elocution of
young ministers. A clear pronmiciation and a good
delivery is a great means of influence over the masses
with the clergy across Channel. A peasant, sfruck
with the way in which his minister acquitted himself
of this part of his duty, once let fall the naive re
mark: "Why, he reads the Bible as if he'd written
it !" At a certain part of the service the priest
leaves the reading-desk and goes into the chancel, to
read from thence the Ten Commandments and the
Nicene Creed, forming the commencement of the
Communion Service.
People in France would be astonished at the
English considering themselves really Catholic, and
the more so that they add no modification to the ex
pression. The two words Roman Catholic, according
to their idea, present to the mind a contradiction;
for one cannot be at the same time both universal
and local. That which we call the Catholic Church
is known in England under the name of the Church
of Rome, which mode of faith, as well as the Eastern
Church, forms a branch only of Catholicity in gene
ral. Our Protestant neighbours will not accord to
any of these branches, or separate churches, acharac-

40 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
ter of infaUibility, any more than they claim it for
themselves. All may have points of error ; and the
Chm'ch of Rome, they say, has less than any other
shown herself to be removed from all danger of
faUacy. They reserve the name of the Church, in the
more general sense of the word, to the general com
munity of Christians spread over the whole earth,
who, belonging to whatever branch they may, are
members of one great universal family. The more
any object is independent of party spirit and separate
from any particular reUgious interest, tlie more it
merits, in the eyes of enlightened Englishmen, the
epithet of CathoUc. One can thus understand how
their creed has preserved the idea of a universal
Church, and at the same time thrown aside any
bond of dependence on any foreign power.
After having recited — still wearing his surplice —
the prayers appointed to be read in the chancel, the
officiating minister proceeds into the pulpit, now clad
in a long black gown, and there commences his ser-
nwn. English preachers are more in the habit of
addressing themselves to the mind and to the reason
than to the feelings. Little gesticulation, a written
sermon, and a high inculcation of moral duties, are
the principal features of an eloquence which well suits
the sedate character of the nation. What moral effect,
then, it will be asked, can be produced on the con
science by rites so simple, and by this vigorous and
yet polished discourse ? I wiU not assert that all are

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 47
equaUy sfruck by them. An anecdote showing this
is told of a shopkeeper who attended every Sunday
the service at his parish church, and yet made no
scruple of cheating his customers. On one occasion
he was reproached with his duplicity, and was re
minded of a sermon of the minister's on the import
ance of commercial honesty. "It is all very well,"
replied he, " to beUeve these things one day in the
week, especially as there are six other days to forget
them in, and to do quite the contrary." It is, how
ever, certain that in the country districts the Protes
tant Church, with her meagre ceremonies and her
somewhat stem teaching, manages to imprint on the
hearts of the rural population a reUgious ideal which
all the frictipn of daUy working Ufe does not easUy
efface. The reformed Church in England recognises two
sacraments only — Baptism and the Lord's Supper.
Baptism is not often administered to the chUdren of
Protestants untU three weeks or a month after their
birth. A wish for the preservation of health has
perceived the inexpediency of exposing them too
soon in the open air ; and certain proceedings, which
were foUowed with fatal consequences, have quite
lately excited the indignation of our neighbom-s
against the very different custom in the Church of
Rome. The Lord's Supper is administered in the
churches on the first Sunday in the month, and on
some of the principal feasts. AU the communicants

48 ¦ iJ^LIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
jDartake of both elements ; for the claim to the cup
by the laity has formed in England, as weU as in
Germany, one of the chief complaints of the reUgious
reformers against the priestly privileges of the ancient
faith. English divines do not believe in Transub-
stantiation. In their opinion the bread remains
bread and the wine remains wine wliUst in the hands
of the priest ; but they believe nevertheless that they
partake in a spiritual sense of the fiesh and blood
of Jesus Christ. The other sacraments have been
abolished, or converted into mere religious cere
monies. The confessional is among the number of
the things which have been done away with ; but it
still, in the country, inspires a kind of Puritan hor
ror. On this point each one has to judge and trv
himself in all the actions of his life. Man being
no longer confessed, absolved, or justified by man,
is compelled fi'om his own internal perception to
shape out for himself a conscience, or a system of
moral responsibility of his own. From this point
of view, at least. Protestantism is a manly religion,
which sanctions the sovereignty of self-dependence,
even as regards God and eternity. The EngUsh
Church still intervenes in burials, although she has
long since given up the belief in the efficacy of
prayers for the dead. What good, then, is there in
offering up these services ? It will be stated, among
other reasons, that they are an honour rendered to
the deceased.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 49
It is the custom in certain disfricts for the farmers
to accompany the funerals on horseback, clothed in
long black mantles, and with their hats covered with
ornaments of crape. These processions, or, to speak
more correctly, gloomy cavalcades, produce a singular
effect while passing between the green hedge-rows,
covered with wild creepers and the flowering haw
thorn. Slowly and silently they creep along : tlie
comitenances are sad, but resigned ; for the English
submit with a sort of pride to that which is irrevo
cable. All the way, the bell tolls at intervals in
the church-tower. On the arrival of the cortege at
the churchyard gate, the farmers dismount, and the
gravel in the pathway soon grates under both the
heavy boots of the mourners and the slow and mea
sured steps of those who carry the coffin. They
thus approach the enfr'ance of the church, where the
minister comes forward, with his head uncovered, to
meet the coffin. The funeral service, which then
begins,- has been arranged so as both to instruct and
console the living. In it the voice of the psalmist
tells them that they shall one day fade away like the
orass of the field, and that man walketh in a vain
shadow upon the earth, and that he heapeth up riches
without knowing who shaU gather them. This imagery
tells us only of our nothingness ; but the lesso7i,
taken from an epistle of St. Paul, soon sheds a ray
ol" immortality on the darkness of the grave. There ^
is besides no singing, no ftmereal hangings, nothing

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

indeed which can in any way strike the eyes or affect
the imagination ; it is throughout the same immaterial
style of worship, which addresses only the faith or
the intellect.
The cortege then leaves the church, and following
the clergyman bends its way towards that part of the
churchyard where j the grave has been dug before
hand. The latter is edged with planks, to make the
opening firm aU round. In front of this " open mouth,
which swaUows up, one after another, aU the genera
tions of mankind," the priest recites some solemn
sentences. " In the midst of life," he cries, "we are
in death." Then, just as some handfols of earth are
let fall at intervals with a duU sound on the coffin,
now let down into the bottom of the grave, the priest
pronounces with a solemn voice, " We therefore com
mit his body to the ground ; earth to earth, ashes to
ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope of the
resurrection to eternal life." The relations and
friends afterwards come forward to the frame of
planks, so as to cast a last look on the coffin be
fore it is covered up by the grave-digger ; it is an
adieu for eternity. While this is going forward, the
minister withdraws, leaving the body in peace, whose
soul he respects the individuality of, even in the sha
dows of death.
In the comitry life of old England the Protestant
religion is associated with some scenes more agree
able than the above; I am now especially thinking

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 61
of the Haroest-lwme, Every year, on the day fixed
upon, they assemble in the church, about eleven in
the morning, to celebrate a thanksgiving service.
The labourers, preceded by a band of music, after
wards proceed to a tent set up in the middle of a
field, in a favourable situation where the view ex
tends over a wide horizon. The coimfry in Eng
land often preserves all the freshness of its beauty
even in the month of August ; one might compare it
to a finfe sfrong girl, who was sfrikingly beautiful in
early youth, and stiU keeps aU the traces of it. It
is generaUy less remarkable for any brilliant features
in its sceneiy than for the abundance and rich variety
of its detaUs; and although more pretty than sfriking,
it never fails to inspfre the rustics with a kind of
pride. After all, are not they the men who have
made it what it is ? The mattock, the spade, and the
plough have effected a change in the whole face of
nature, softening down the steep declivities of the
hiUs, and changing the earth into a garden. Even
the sheltering clumps of frees, where the rustUng
of the wind sounds in the branches, were planted
by the hand of man to protect his husbandry. A
rm-al banquet has been prepared by the land-owners
and farmers of the district in the tent, which is orna
mented by garlands, and where also honourably
figures a great golden sheaf, the produce of the
harvest. One may very weU imagine that there is
no want of appetite ; for the EngUsh labourers are

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

strong and heart}^ sons of the soil, and liaVe preserved
in more than one respect the habits of the Homeric
age. The rector generally presides at dinner, and first
of aU, standing up, says grace : " God bo praised,"
says he, "for aU these good things given for our
use !" English Protestantism is no religion of fast
ing and moitification; instead of abstaining from tho
good tilings of the earth, they like better to bless the
hand that sends them. The guests, numbering about
four or five hmidred, are scarcely seated, before the
rector plunges his formidable luiife into a monstrous
joint of beef. The plates of meat come one after the
other in such rapid succession and so heavily laden,
that any less solidly constructed table would give way
groaning under such a burden. Good cheer and
merry talk are very apt to dispose the heart to grati
tude ; and thus the quality of the crops, and the good
Providence that ripened them, are talked of with a
kindly thankftdness. When the attack on the meat
is finished — and the labourers go at it with no slack
hand — there is a delay of a minute or two for the
second course. A party of ladies, about sixty in
number, preceded by the same band of music which
accompanied the procession before at going out of
church, now come in at the two oj^enings of the tent,
and walk up along the tables in single file, each
carrying a smoking plum -pudding, ornamented with
flowers and sprigs of holly ; the wife and daughters

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 53
of the rector often figuring in this procession. The
plum-puddings having disappeared, four men bring in
on their shoulders an immense loaf made out of the
wheat of the harvest, and place it with some cere
mony before the president. One of the guests — some
lusty farmer — one foot on the table, and one on his
seat, cuts vigorously into this Pantagruelic mass of
food, and at the same moment a cheese is brought
in, a worthy brother of the huge loaf, and very little
inferior to it in bulk.
At the conclusion of the feast, the labourers dis
perse over a piece of ground, got ready beforehand,
and give themselves up to various games and athletic
sports. It must be confessed that the English have
not much idea of amusement; with them pleasure
seems chiefly to consist in action. This simplicity is
so grounded in their character, that it pervades their
whole mode of life. In the country especially, any of
the arts or refinements of luxury are, even in rich
families, something of a foreign importation. Just in
the same way as he is so easily amused, the Anglo-
Saxon peasant, in spite of his rough outside, is
worked upon without difficulty, and it is thus ex
plained how it is that he is deeply moved by a wor
ship so closely resembling nature, without any need
for having recourse to outward pomp and striking
dramatic effects. Joy in the triumph of physical
force, the happiness of meeting together to thank
Him who gilds the ears of corn in the furrows ; such

54 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
are the main features in the reUgious character of
this rural /^fe. In the field devoted to play, another
tent is put up for the wives and daughters of the
labourers. Four or five hundred people assemble
there about four in the afternoon for tea. Members
of ParUament and the clergy, together with the best
families in the neighbourhood, are aU happy to assist
in these interesting rdunions, in which inteUect and
wealth meet to do honour to agricultural labour.
The rector or vicar is entirely the master of the
church ; but it would be a mistake to look upon it as
placed under his absolute authority. There is no
thing of this kind in England. On the contrary, each
parish is like a Uttle commonwealth, governed by
itself. The due division of power, duties, and work,
is no less sfrictly defined there than it is in the na
tional constitution itself. Li the first place, at the
very side of the church there is often a Methodist
chapel. There are then here two eenfres at least
to which may converge some of the nobler senti
ments of social life. There may very often be in
some obscure corner of the viUage a meeting-house
for Quakers; a small antiquated cottage, cleanly
whitewashed and festooned with honeysuckle and
vine ; and looked after with sedulous care by some
aged sister of the sect. The divisions between the
Established Church and the Dissenting congregation
in the country do not so much rest on any very grave
differences in point of faith ; not the less, however,

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

do they aU make a point of foUowing out the usages
of their worship with a fidelity which one might caU
the point of Iwnour of conscience. Most of these sects
have taken their rise in some old theological dispute,
which would not perhaps have arisen in these times ;
but they now form the inheritance handed down from
a past age, which the English will not easUy get rid
of. Some of them certainly supply a want ; different
minds, as St. Paul intimates, require different nutri
ment, and these chapels have been founded in order to
satisfy this vai'iety in spiritual tastes. All Dissenters
are, however, compeUed to pay church-rates, and
they murmur at it, for in this way they are con
demned to pay twice, first to the church which they
do not attend, and then to the particular chapel in
which they worship. The abolition of chm'ch-rates
has been several times proposed in the House of Com
mons, but hitherto without success.
As the law actuaUy stands, this impost constitutes
a charge on Dissenters which is very difficult to jus
tify ; but, at any rate, it gives them some privileges.
One of these privUeges consists in the right of attend
ing at vestry meetings. In these meetings, which take
place several times- in the year, and are announced
by notices on the church-doors, aU the questions are
discussed which relate to the necessary expense of
public worship, and to the repairs of the church itself.
The head of the local opposition is usuaUy some
wealthy farmer or shopkeeper, an obstinate-minded

56 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
man, bred up in all the principles of dissent, and
proud of pitting chm'ch against chapel. The self-
esteem of the clergyman may often be wounded by
the freedom of speech which takes place ; yet who
would wish to do away with it ? One good reason
y\-hy the English manage their national affairs so well
is that they have been wise enough to place the right
of contradiction at the very base of their social
edifice. Parish matters oftentimes give rise to dissensions
between the different parties, and call forth certain
exaggerations of eloquence which might weU provoke
a smile ; these centres of agitation, however, help to
break the monotony of country life. Nearly all the
opinions of large cities are found represented in Eng
lish villages. In one of them I met a free-thinker in
the shape of an old man grafting his own fruit-frees,
and studying dcA'otedfy various scientific works. His
house, planted on the top of a hill, with a row of
windows along the upper story commanding all the
valley round, and fianked with a tower, the remains
of an old windmill, was looked upon by all the good
people of the neighbourhood with a sort of supersti
tious terror. It was, they said, the abode of an infidel
— an epithet they are here rather too fond of giving
to any one who does not attend a place of worship.
A case like this of isolation in reUgious matters is
rather uncommon from anotlier cause : if you wish
to obtain any influence in rural England, von must

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 57
belong either to the national church, or at any rate
to some other reUgious community. An Englishman
who had very independent ideas, but was not the less
a believer in a certain point of view, replied to some
one who inquired as to his religious views, " The
chapel to suit me is not built yet ; when it is, I shall
go there." The great event at the vestry meetings, taking
place every year during Easter week, is the election
of the parish officers.* The village authorities consist
of the cimrclnvardens, the overseers, the constables, and
the way-wardens or road- surveyors. AU these offices,
excepting perhaps the constable's, bring no pay to
their possessors except the honour of holding them ;
they are not, however, the less sought after. In
some villages the elections pass oft' very peaceably ;
in others, on the contrary, they excite an active and
bitter rivalry. Both of the two parties declare that
the fate of England depends on their success. This
strong feeling, however, soon cools down after the
result of the voting is announced, and the next day
the village returns to its usual state of quiet.
The clerk and the sexton are persons who are more
speciaUy attached to the service of the church, and
are directly appointed by the viear or rector. The
clerk, who very often carries on some manual occu-
* The electors are composed of the contributors to the paro
chial rates ; for in England property is the root of all power, civil
and religious. 4k

58 EELIGIOUS LIFE 'IN ENGLAND.
pation in the neighbourhood, is appointed to lead the
responses to the minister during the celebration of
divine service. The sexton is the remains of an an
cient and now disused office. As the name indicates,
he formerly performed the functions of sacristan, that
is, he had the care of the sacred vessels committed to
him. The Reformation, of course, very much sim
plified the appm'tenances of worship, and therefore
took away many of his prerogatives ; and the super
vision of the vesfry, which was not very important,
was made over to the clerk. The sexton's employ
ment is now limited to sweeping out the church and
digging the graves. But I must not forget the beU-
ringer, who, nearly as old as the steeple, presents in
some viUages a rather curious specimen. Having
rmig-in aU the joys and sorrows of life, he turns
philosopher on becoming a widower, and, with a pot
of beer in his hand, consoles himself with reflecting
on the vanity of worldly matters, such as marriages
and burials.
The two churchwardens, one of whom is chosen
by the vesfry, the other being generaUy nominated
by the rector or vicar, enjoy some considerable au
thority in the management of the fabric. They have
to assign to 'each family their position in the interior
of the chm'ch — rather a dangerous honour, gener
ally bringing on aU kinds of jealousies in the parish.
It very often happens that the number of pews is
scarcely sufficient for the parishioners ; in that case.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 59
the poor are ranged on wooden benches — in some
churches with the men on one side, and the women
on the other — along the aisles of the building. The
poor do not say much; but they are not the less
wounded in their dignity as human beings by this
distinction in the house of that God " who is no
respecter of persons." The churchwardens also exer
cise a certain confrol over the conduct and doctrines
of the minister. The latter, as we have seen, has
but little to dread from ecclesiastical authority ; but
he has a good deal to answer for to his congregation.
The present constitution of the Anglican Church
allows either rectors or vicars to have a great liberty
in reUgious opinions ; it would scarcely be believed
that the resfraining power rests principally with the
parishioners themselves. It is frue that the laity can
onlv exercise over the minister the right of moral
intervention ; in case of need, thefr resistance could
only be passive ; but stiU, even this would oppose an
effectual barrier against certain rationaUstic tenden
cies. The intimate alliance which exists between the
State and the Church may thus be said to have taken
its rise from a much deeper source; namely, the
constant relations subsisting between the clergy and
the nation at large. The national reUgion is watched
over as an inheritance by all classes of society, espe
ciaUy in the counfry. Two or three years ago, the
minister of an EngUsh church addressed a touching
letter to his churchwardens, announcing his voluntary

60 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
resignation of a living that he had held for many
years. With the lapse of time, he said, his ideas
had changed, and as a minister of reUgion he still
found himself faced by fixed dogmas, with a Prayer-
book consecrated by custom, and also with a congi-e-
gation who had the right to look to him for a Une of
instruction conformable to the doctrines of the AngU-
can Church ; his position in his pulpit was no longer
tenable, and he therefore abandoned it. When a
clergyman secedes from the Established Church for
any such scruples, it is very rarely that he unites
himself to any other religious sect ; for by doing this
he would only bind his chains the closer, as most of
the dissenting bodies keep quite as closely as church
people to the letter of the Bible.
The direction of all the parochial charities belongs
in the country chiefly to the incumbent. The Eng
lish, except in certain extraordinary cases, are not at
aU partial to the "system oi direct reUef; in their idea,
the greatest service they can render the poorer classes
is to teach them how to do without public relief.
The question is then to find some means of disguising
charity, and one of these means is the principle of
association based on sure grounds. In almost all
the villages of England there are clubs, which are
at once funds for assistance and banks for savings.
Each of these clubs consists both of honorary and
participating members. The former contribute some
particular amoinit from which they never look for

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 61

any personal advantage — it is a free gift on their
part ; the latter, on the contrary, receive in kind the
value of their club-payment, and benefit besides by
the generosity of the former. By thus calling on
the poor to cooperate with the rich, they ai-e able to
relieve poverty without wounding the personal dig
nity of any.* The agricultural labourers derive more
than one kind of advantage fr'om this system of asso
ciation ; tlie club buys its goods wholesale, and seUs
them at cost price, and can thus give them much
cheaper bargains than the shops. These material
results are, however, not of much consequence, com
pared with the habits of order and foresight which
such institutions imprint on the character of the
rural labourer. There certainly is a portion of the
funds in the club cash-box which has been provided
by charity, but it is mixed up with the produce of
their personal labour and economy. In these works
of charity the minister readily makes use of female
assistance. His daughters give a noble example,
* In the village to which my observation was more particularly
drawn, which contains a population of about 1700 inhabitants,
the Coal- Club had received in money, from March 1st, 1863, to
March 1st, 1864, the sum of 85Z. 18«.- 6(Z., and it had distributed
nearly this amount in coal to the agricultural labourers. The
Adult Clothing -Club had contributed more than SOZ. towards
the attire of the men and women. The Children's Clothing- Club
had provided garments to the value of 22Z. for those of whom it is
said in the Evangelist, Sinite parvulos venire ad me. The Shoe-
Club had delivered in this same year 148 pairs of shoes, having
received as deposits and subscriptions the sum of 31Z.

62 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
and thus draw round them the patronage of the
wealthy. AU the clergymen that I have talked to on the
matter attribute the success of these institutions to the
absence of any principle of authority. In the first
place. Government must have nothing to do with it,
or aU would be spoilt ; even the surveiUance of the
mmister must be in some way hidden under the or
ganisation of the club. It is by far the best plan for
him to keep in the background, and to leave the
poor to manage their business for themselves, and
thus to accustom them to the exercise of their rights.
Direction is not management, and there is in this a
deUcate shade that, in practice, must never be lost
sight of. The science of doing good requires, then,
on the part of the parson both inteUigence and expe
rience ; nothing is easier than mere giving, but any
material help has often the effect of only impoverish
ing the recipient by taking away his seU-reUanee.
Every thing, on the contrary, that tends to elevate
the individual, and to augment his moral force, by
communicating to him a just idea of his real inter
ests, is so much added to his means of livelihood.
True charity, in the English idea, is that which pro
cures for the poor advantages which they have erery
right to look upon as in a great measure their own
work. Some counfry clergymen are in the habit of en
couraging other social meetings among their people.

RELIGIOUS LIFE m ENGLAND. 63
as weU as those institutions just spoken of; for ex
ample, tea parties. Taking advantage of the influ
ence which the friendly beverage of China exercises
on English habits, they have established in some vU
lages meetings of from two to three hundred people,
which take place in the corner of a wood, perhaps, in
summer, and in winter in the school-room. The in
tention of these love-feasts, as they may be caUed, is
not difficult to be seen ; the ministers of the Church
have in view to bring together in this way the vari
ous ranks and conditions of society. The expense is
slight, and accessible to every purse ; .sixpence for
grown-up people, and threepence for chUdren. They
meet only for amusement ; but the gentle manners
and good example of some among them exercise a
happy influence on the general tone of their enter
tainment. WhUe the kettles fiiU of boiling water hiss
and sing, general conversation goes on, and the dif
ferent classes of society get both to know and esteem
each other better.
EngUsh peasants are generaUy robust, and it is
almost necessary that their spare energy should be
thrown into some manly exercise ; when left to them
selves, or badly dfrected, they are apt at times to
disturb the peaceable lives of the inhabitants of the
viUage. In order to get over this difficulty, some
ministers have hit upon the plan of arranging a sys
tem of athletic sports ; they have formed clubs, hold
ing their meetings sometimes in the open air, and

64 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
sometimes in a large room, where violence may learn
to be held in check by skiU. Tlie field-labourers
used to have no medical assistance in time of iU
ness except nature or the quack ; now, the sick-club,
founded in many viUages, affords them, in return for
a small weekly subscription, all the benefits of a man
of skill and his remedies. All these arrangements
are, however, conducted on the same principle ; the
moral force which gives the primary impulse is but
little seen, and, above all, never seeks to get the
upper hand.
The life of an English parson is quite sufficiently
occupied. Two services and two sermons on the
Sunday; during the week there are the sick to be
visited, meetings to preside over, parishioners to be
entertained, and the general interests of the Church
to be watched over : all this does not form a sine
cure. It is true that some incumbents content them
selves with doing their duty in their pulpits, and
then withdrawing into the learned leisure of their com
fortable homes ; but these men are little liked, and
scarcely exercise any infiuence at aU in the parish
generaUy. The peasants love a clergyman who will
come sometimes and sit down by their fire-sides, who
talks to them about their daily work, who kindly
draws between his knees the fair-haired little ones,
and seems to forget, while among them, aU his dio--
iiity as a priest in his recoUections as a father. The
great character of English Protestantism is the im-

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 65

planting of religious feeUng round the domestic
hearth ; and tliere, above aU places, is the feeUng
most strong, because it is most natural. It is true
that religious beUef does not proclaim itself here by
any external signs ; it is in the heart and not on the
walls ; yet it seems Uke a kind of Bible-perfume fiU-
uig the whole house. These pastoral visits afford
gi-eat pleasure, and while they last the cricket itself
chirps more proudly in the chimney corner. A false
idea of personal dignity, and of the respect which
is due to a gentleman, has been the stumbling-block
of many a promising character that has entered or
ders. Some ministers keep at too great a distance
from their parishioners; stiff and reserved in their
manners, they can easily command an outward re
spect, but they can acquire neither the esteem nor
the confidence of the great mass of the people, who
indeed scarcely know them.
In many places the parsons are justices of the peace
as weU;* this mixture of duties is more injurious
than beneficial to the Church. The EngUsh clergy
can never, in the present day, much extend their in
fluence by means of authority ; tolerance and kindness
are the things they must look to. There is one other
duty which assimilates much more fittingly with the
pastoral prerogative, I mean the surveillance of the

•f From a report made to Parliament, there are in England
and Wales 1 183 clergymen exercising the duties of magistrates. F

66 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
schools. There are now few viUages where there is
not by the side of the Church a building more or less
modem, with something of an attempt at looking Uke
gothic architecture. In the former edifice Protes
tantism worships God; in the latter she insfructs
childhood.

CHAPTER IIL
The schools— Infant school— National school and Sunday-school
— Andrew Bell — Joseph Lancaster — The system of mutual
instruction — The National Society — The British and Foreign
Schools Society — Beasons for the antagonism of these two
institutions — The Eevised Code— Objections to which it has
given rise — Causes for the complaints and grievances of the
Clergy— General views of the Government— Who nominates
the Schoolmaster 1 — Progress of education iu England since
the commencement of the Nineteenth Century — Bond of
union between the Church and the school.
The viUage in which I passed some time possessed
two schools; one, the Infant School, situated on a
Uttle hiU in the cenfre of a piece of greensward.
The building is a new one, and consists of a large
room with a smaU apartment by the side, and a
vestibule. Inside it very much resembles a chapel.
The waUs, whitewashed with lime, and decorated
with coloured engravings, support a vaulted ceiling
with oak wainscoting and beams, ornamented with
carving. A hundred and ten children of tender
years are received here in the day-time ; this room
partakes, therefore, of the nature both of a school
and of a nursery, Uke those in which the chUdren of

68 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
the wealthier classes are brought up. There are two
misfresses, one of whom is salaried, and the other
gives her services gratuitously. The first is quite
a young girl ; the latter is a lady in black, who has
a Uttle the appearance and costume of a religieuse ;
and she it is who does almost every thing in the
school. The Protestant religion inspires a devotion
of this kind.
The assemblage of aU these children of both sexes,
seated on the benches, and, so to speak, sloped off
according to their ages, step by step, Uke little fruit-
trees in blossom on the side of a hill, presents at
first sight an interesting spectacle. The education is
of course quite elementary : it is limited to communi
cating some few useful notions ; and in order to im
press them better, when they are required, both action
and imitation are called in to assist. The children
reply all together to the questions addressed to them
by their mistress, clapping their little hands together,
and measuring out their words in a kind of singing
tone. The more advanced of them are also taught to
read and write. They are divided into several classes,
each bearing the name of some fiower ; so that a little
girl may be a violet, a rose, a daisy, or a geranium.
The other school is the one for the older children,
and is called the National ScJiool.* It is separated

* At the Infant School the children pay Id, a-week • at the
National School 2d. a-week.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 69

from the church by the vicar's house, and is sur
rounded by a playground. This kmd of family union
between the parsonage and the school is not, how
ever, pecuUar to the Estabhshed Church; there is
scarcely a dissenting chapel which does not shelter
under its wing a hive-fiiU of buzzing chUdren. DaUy
classes are held in the national school, attended by a
hundred and thirty pupils, and evening classes, in
which about thirty adults generally take a part. The
master gets 801. a year from the parish, and about 251.
from the government, without reckoning lOZ. for the
insfruction of six pupil-teachers. He has besides a
house and garden provided for him.
The Sunday-school is also held in the same build
ing as that which is devoted to the weekly scholars.
The origin of this institution is rather interesting.
The first Sunday-school was opened in 1781 by Ro
bert Raikes, a bookseller, who assembled together in
the crypt of Gloucester Cathedral some poor chU
dren whom he coUected out of the street. He was at
the same time pubUshing a newspaper {TJie Glouicester
Journal), and he made use of this organ for propa
gating in England his ideas about a work to which
he rightly attached no smaU importance.* The pro-

* He was helped and inspired in his work by the Eev. T. Stock,
curate of St. John's at Gloucester. Behind the altar of this church
there is the following inscription on a marble monument put up
by the subscriptions of the inhabitants : " To the memory of the

70 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
gress made by these institutions was reaUy bor
dering on the marvellous ; and at the present time,
Sunday-schools are spread Uke a network over,
not only England, but even Scotland and Ireland.
Sunday, which is usuaUy considered a day of rest,
is, on the contrary, with our neighbours a very
busy day. The clergyman's daughter, or some other
educated person, wiUingly presides at these schools,
either in the morning or between the services. The
instruction given in them chiefly touches on reUgious
subjects, and, pushing aside the obscuring brambles
of theology, opens out a few simple views through
the seemingly mysterious forest of the Scriptures.
The lessons are all gratuitous, and many of the
youthftil poor, occupied aU the week in hard work,
have but this one tie to unite them to the ideal
world. At the very least, they learn to read the
Bible and to think a little about it. The Anglican
Church has the good quahty of appeaUng first of all
to the inteUect. She aslis an active and not a
passive reception of those docfrines which are sub
sequently to form the foundation of an inteUigent
belief; for Protestants are bound to think before
they beUeve.
FinaUy, during the winter evenings pubUc lec
tures are held in the National school, and bring to-
Eev. Thomas Stock, rector of this parish, who, in concert with
Mr. Eaikes, established and maintained the four first Sunday-
schools instituted in England. He died iu 1803."

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 71
gether an audience of from eighty to a hundred and
fifty persons, the viear himself being one of the lec
turers. We may conclude as pretty certain that, for
a vUlage of seventeen hundred inhabitants, the means
of instruction are sufficiently abundant.
The National schools take the place of those which
we caU in France the dcoles primaires. They owe
thefr origin to a minister of the AngUcan Church,
Dr. Andrew Bell, born at St. Andrews in Scotland.
After having passed a good examination at the uni
versity in his native city, Andrew BeU embarked
for America in 1774 ; five years later he left New
York to return to England. The voyage was a dis
astrous one : the vessel ran ashore on a desert coastj
and, as it was winter time, the passengers found
themselves exposed, without shelter, to the frost and
snow. The only frace of habitation they met with
was a fisherman's hut in ruins, which they discovered
towards the soutli-west. Andrew BeU had Uttle hopes
of surviving the shipwreck ; he was, however, saved
by a smaU boat which came along the coast, and
which brought him to Halifax, after sixteen days of
terrible sufferings. He re-embarked, and this time
arrived safely at his port in England.
After some years of a wandering and adven
turous Ufe, during which he fraveUed about the
country, sometimes on horseback and sometimes on
foot, he received holy orders, and was instituted as
minister of the episcopal chapel at Leith. This quiet

72 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
position was very little to his taste ; and he left it, to
fravel in the East Indies. The 2d of June 1787 he
arrived at Madras, from whence he at length made
his way to Calcutta. During his journey he had
endeavoured to fiU his purse by giving lectures —
a rather favourite resource with educated English
men who are seeking their fortunes. Having been
subsequently appointed Superintendent of the Mili
tary Orphan Asylum at Madras, he devoted himself
altogether to the duties of his office. The plans for
teaching were then very imperfect, and Andrew BeU,
having his mind confused with doubts, sought on aU
sides for some ray of decisive light; when, passing
one evening on horseback by a Hindoo school, he
espied the children sitting on the ground, and frac-
ing letters with their fingers on the dust that was
spread out before them. He returned home, exclaim
ing, as others have done before him, " I've found it
out !" Andrew Bell then recommended to his under-
master to adopt this plan in teaching the alphabet to
the English scholars in the lowest class.
The discovery did not seem to be so useful a one
as he had thought ; for, either from disinclination or
negligence, the under-master made it known to him
that it was impossible to teach any thing to the
children in this fashion, Andrew Bell was not the
sort of man to give any thing up (he was not born
in Scotland for nothing); he selected one of the
pupils of the asylum, — the son of a private soldier, —

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 73
and intrusted to him the execution of his plan. The
scholar managed without any difficulty that which
the professor had declared to be impossible. Learn
ing to read and write was, up to that time, a serious
matter of state ; in future, thanks to this plan, it was
nothing but child's play. Dr. BeU, seeing that this
experiment had succeeded so well, conceived the idea
of choosing out some of the best of the pupils, and
employing them as monitors to instruct the others.
Thus by his painstaking was formed the system of
mutual insfruction, or pupil-teachers. He afterwards
formed the plan of returning to England, in order to
propagate his ideas there. After his arrival in Lon
don, where he married, he exercised for many years
an important influence on rudimentary education in
the kingdom, and died in 1830, prodigiously rich,
leaving the greatest part of his fortune to the schools
and towns of Scotland.
There was living at the same time another man
of a very different character, although devoted to the
same Une of inquiry and labour. His name was
Joseph Lancaster. He was born in 1778, in South
wark, and belonged to the sect of Quakers, or, more
properly, the Society of Friends. His father, a
veteran in the MiUtary Hospital at Chelsea, had
served in the EngUsh army during the American
war. From the earUest age Joseph showed aU the
excitability of a mystical inteUect ; at fourteen years
of age, having read by accident Clarkson's Essay on

74 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
the Slave- Trade, he made up his mind to go to
Jamaica, in order to teach the negroes to read " the
Word of God." Without mentioning it to any one,
he left his paternal roof and took the road to Bristol,
having as baggage nothing but a Bible, John Bunyan's
Pilgrim's Progress, and a few shillings. The first
night he slept under a hedge, and the second at the
foot of a hay-rick. He had the good fortune to meet
on the road a workman who was likewise going to
Bristol; so they fraveUed together, and the elder
was able to render assistance to the younger. When
Joseph arrived at his place of destination, he found
himself without either money or shoes. He entered
himself as a volunteer in the navy, and was sent off
the next day to Milford Haven. On board his ship
he was bantered on account of the reUgious tone of
his mind, and got from his messmates the nickname
oi Parson. One Sunday when the captain was away,*
the officers came and found Joseph Lancaster, and
asked him if he could preach them a sermon. The
youth only asked for half an hour for refieetion, and
to read his Bible. When he reappeared on deck,
they arranged a barrel to serve as a pulpit, and the
ship's crew assembled rotmd the young preacher.
He began by reproaching the rough saUors with their
evil ways, and he was at first received only with

* It must be understood that in English vessels the captain
sometimes fills the office of chaplain.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 75
jeers ; but his rough and vigorous eloquence, nurtured
by the reading of the Old and New Testament, soon
prevailed over the unfriendly disposition of his audi
ence. From this day forward he was no longer
made ftm of, but was treated with respect by the
seamen. His family at last found out where he was,
and obtained from the government a permission for
him to return.
At eighteen years of age, Joseph Lancaster
opened a school in his father's house. Having fiir-
nished the benches and desks at his own expense,
he assembled round him ninety children to share
his teaching. It was then a period of scarcity (1798) ;
as in the fable, the poor little grasshoppers of his
school went about crying famine among the indus
trious ants of the neighbourhood ; touched with their
distress, he interested several charitable persons in
their favour, and managed to feed them as well as
.to teach them. At the door of his estabUshment he
fixed a notice, couched in these words : " AU those
who wish may send their children to receive a gra
tuitous education. Those who would not Uke to have
them taught gratis, are at Uberty to pay, if they
think fit." This notice had, at any rate, the effect
of fiUing the school, but not by any means the purse
of its master. Nevertheless, he extended his opera
tions on a great scale. " The little ones," said he,
" came running to me like a fiock of lambs." Some
persons of influence, — among others, the Duke of

76 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Bedford and Lord SomerviUe, became interested in
Joseph Lancaster's labours. The number of his
pupils, however, increased to. such an extent, that
his means became quite unequal to the burden. Ne
cessity, which the English caU the mother of inven
tion, came to his aid, and pointed out to him a new
path by which to attain his end. Having no money
to pay under-masters with, he conceived the idea of
multiplying himself by means of monitors.
This system of mutual instruction was thus dis
covered, almost at the same moment, by two very
different men, each acted upon by peculiar circum
stances. Andrew Bell commenced it in the Asylum
at Madras, through a mistrust of routine, and Joseph
Lancaster in his schools, from motives of economy.*
The latter became so much talked about, and met
with such great success in his plans, that George
III. manifested a desire to give him an audience.
The interview took place in 1805, at Weymouth.
" Lancaster," cried the king, " I hear that, in yom*
schools, one master can teach five hundred scholars
at once ; how does he manage to keep them in
order?" "In the same way, sfre, as your entire
army is put in movement by one word of the general
commanding it," replied the Quaker. George III.

* Both subsequently claimed the honour of this discovery,
which has been for a long time either abandoned or much modified
in England.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 77

added: "I very much approve of -your system, arid
my desire is that every poor child in my dominions
shaU learn to read the Bible." The king imme
diately sent him 100^., the queen 50?., and each of
the princesses 25 i, in order that he might spread
the benefits of education according to his views.
The example afforded by the Court at once opened
up the som-ces of individual liberality, and money
flowed into Lancaster's hands from aU sides; this,
however, was his ruin. Excitable, enthusiastic as
he was, and consumed with zeal for his work, he
threw • aside all prudent counsels, and very much
exceeded the Umit of his resources in the mainten
ance of his children, and thus got into debt. Friends
came to his assistance, and several times got him
out of his embarrassments ; but his prodigalify to
wards others was quite incorrigible, and he always
relapsed into the same pecuniary difficulties.
His correspondence at this time shows him to us
as, by turns, despondent or triumphant, and as pass
ing suddenly from the depths of melancholy to the
pinnacle of hope. His mind being given up to aU
kinds of visionary ideas, he thought he saw " the
horses of fire bringing to him from the mountains,
in chariots of fire, aU the riches of the earth," so
as to preserve his system from irreparable ruin. Un
fortunately, debts cannot be paid with the gold of
the Apocalypse, and the prophet more than once fell
into the hands .of the bailiffs. His Quaker friends.

78 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
men devoted to order and commerce, who placed
an almost reUgious importance on good book-keeping,
ended by abandoning him, after having condemned
his extravagance. In 1808 he was declared bank
rupt ; he afterwards left for America, where also he
passed through all kinds of trials. He was think
ing about returning to England, when, on the 23d
of October 1838, he was crushed to death by a car
riage in the streets of New York, at the age of fifty-
one years.
These two men first gave rise to two societies
having for their aim the instruction of youth, but
with tendencies strongly opposed to one another. Dr.
BeU gave his influence to the National Society, and
Joseph Lancaster gave his to the British and Foreign
Schools Society. As these two eenfres of reUgious
action have exercised, and stiU do exercise, a great
influence over the management of rudimentary
schools, it is necessary for us to dwell upon them
for a short time. The National Society was founded
in 1811, but it was scarcely developed until 1815,
after the battle of Waterloo, when the benefits of
the peace first began to call the pubUc attention to
the education of the poorer classes. Its affairs are
managed by a committee, consisting of the whole
bench of bishops, some of the highest ecclesiastical
dignitaries, and several laymen enjoying distin
guished pubUc esteem. AU the subscribers of a
guinea a-year, and those who have given ten guineas

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 79
in one sum, are members of the society, and have
the right of voting at the general meetings. The
provincial councils of education, presided over by
the bishop of the diocese, and situated in all parts
of the kingdom, are connected with the cenfral in
stitution, the offices of which are in Westminster.
What, then, is the end aimed at by this society,
based as it is upon active influences, and a mechan
ism as powerftd as it is far-sfretching ? Its aim
is to insfruct the chUdren of the working and agri
cultural classes in the principles of the Established
Church. In foUowing out these views, it first of
aU seeks to develop the means of education by in
creasing the number of schools. The various sums
which it has drawn from its funds to assist in this
measure in different locaUties, up to the end of 1864,
amounted to a total of 389,964Z. This society, how
ever, never grants money, except as an addition to
other money ; that is, it requires from any locali
ties assisted a corresponding expenditure, and gene
rally, indeed, a larger sum than the assistance given.
It is calculated, for example, that for the building
only of schools devoted to elementary instruction,
it has stimulated the country at large into expend
ing a sum at least three times as large as its own
disbursements; and besides, it imposes on each parish
the charge of maintaining in repair and defraying
the expenses of its school, when it is once built. In
order to place a school of elementary instruction in

80 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
a position of connection with the National Society,
it is requisite that the directors or patrons of the
establishment in question should subscribe to certain
" terms of union ;" by which it is understood that
they bind themselves to forward the views of the
society in the religious education of youth. The
number of schools in union with the National So
ciety had reached, at the end of 1864, a total of
12,366, and these establishments received 1,172,306
scholars.* This society is not satisfied with merely diffusing
elementary instruction throughout the kingdom ; it
busies itself, besides, in the education of instructors.
With this view, it has under its immediate control
five Normal schools, three of which are for young
men, and two for young women, who aspire to the
duties of teachers. From 1843 to 1863, no less than
4,447 masters and mistresses have come from these
academies. If we add to all this, the assistance
furnished to the Normal schools in the various dio
ceses, the surveillance of the parish schools by the
independent Government inspectors, and also that
they keep a depot of books determining the orthodox
type of elementary instruction throughout Great
Britain, we can then form some idea of the power
ful influence exercised by the National Society, which

* If the Sunday-schools are included, the number mounts up
to 1,818,476 scholars.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 81
has been rightly called, by one of the clergy indeed,
"the handmaid, of the Church." There are, though,
some servants who are the misti'esses.
The British and Foreign Schools Society has the
same end in view as the National Society, and this
end is the instruction of youth ; but having been
founded, in 1808, by the Dissenters, it embraces in
its sphere of action all the various sects, or, as they
are caUed in England, religious denominations. Quite
different from its rival, this society imposes no obli
gation as to the form of religious belief in the pupils
who are received into its schools. Insfruction is
there a kind of neutral ground, on which it is requi
site to treat with respect aU distinctions of creed.
Although she instils into youth certain general moral
principles, she abstains from touching on the thorny
points of dogmatism. The Bible is certainly per
mitted to be read in its schools, but it is because the
Bible is a base of instruction recognised by universal
consent in all Christian communities.
The head-quarters of this society is in the Borough
Road, in London, where they have built a stone edi
fice for their use in a rather good style. A general
meeting, taking place every year in May, composed
of aU the members of the society, that is, all the
subscribers of one guinea each, elect a president,
vice-presidents, a treasurer, and secretaries. A com
mittee of forty-eight persons is also chosen to manage
the affairs of the institution. This general committee Q

82 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
names a committee of twenty-four ladies to look afier
the education of the little girls. The income resulting
from subscriptions, legacies, • and donations, amounts
to 13,868?. a-year. Just like the National Society,
the British and Foreign Schools Society founds, in
spects, and manages both normal schools and a great
number of elementary schools. The only feature
which distinguishes it from the system foUowed by
the other institution, is the entire absence of any
restriction in matters of belief; it imposes no condi
tion in rendering its services, and freely throws the
light of elementary instruction on the chUdren of the
poorer classes. With respect to dissenting famiUes,
it thus assures to them every liberty of conscience,
without, at the same time, giving up the right of
forwarding a certain system of Christian proselytism.
The task of the education of the people of Eng
land was thus, up to 1832, entfrely borne by these
two societies, and by a noble individual devotion aided
by the offerings of the various parishes ; Government
kept itself in the background. This is by no means
the case at the present time. How, then, has the
Government found itself able to interfere in the sys
tem of public instmction as regards the elementary
schools ? Simply, by its right as a subscriber. The
Government a subscriber ! This is an union of words
which wiU perhaps astonish some of our French
readers. No form of expression, however, can be
more in accordance with the facts. In the ffrst place.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 83
Parliament voted several grants, which were to be
disfributed by the Department of Education, so as to
forward certain local efforts in the formation of schools.
Every parish that applied to the authorities for a
grant of money was bound to have first themselves
coUected a sum equal to the help asked for. Before
1852, the Government found itself face to face with
the two old rival societies, one of which (the National
Society) represented the Church, the other (the
British and Foreign Schools Society) represented
the dissenting body ; it readily availed itself of their
minisfration, and the grants of the Government gene
rally pass tlirough the channel of these institutions.
The aUiance between Religion and Education was
not, however, entfrely severed ; it was requisite for
a school to belong to some persuasion of beUef, in
order to enjoy the bounty of the national purse.
The applications for grants flowed in, and the
amomit of them altogether rapidly rose to near upon
1,000,000Z. a-year. The economists began to be
alarmed ; and on the other hand, certain members of
the high church are now regretting that they have,
as they say, bitten at the golden hook. But what
can be the subject of their regret ? It is, that the
Government, though stiU keeping up its character as
a subscriber, soon claimed the privilege which is
never denied to private individuals in a similar ease,
when supplying funds for any charitable work ; who
ever gives is permitted to satisfy himself personaUy

84 RELIGIOUS LIFE m ENGLAND.
that his money is weU appUed. The Privy CouncU,
relying on this theory, imposed conditions on aU those
schools which accepted the assistance of Government.
By degrees the system of studies was modified, and
the ground-work of the instruction was modeUed
according to the views of various statesmen. The
Council, for example, decided that the schoolmasters,
instead of receiving a fixed salary, shoiUd, in future,
be remunerated according to the work done. At the
present time a portion of thefr income depends on
the number of pupUs attending their classes, and the
success which these pupils obtain under examina
tion. Government inspectors come down to examine
into the progress of the studies generaUy, and fix,
according to the manifested exertions of the master,
the amount of pecuniary recompense he deserves.
Government wishes, as the phrase is, to have its value
for its money ; and therefore, instead of paying for
the means of education, it pays for the results.
These changes were a great source of alarm to
many of the clergy ; for it must be remembered that
the incumbents were in the habit previously of taking
the exclusive direction of the schools, especially in
the country. It was not, therefore, without imeasi-
ness, that they saw the control of the State gradually
insinuating itself into the system of elementary in
struction, as a consequence of, and in right of, the
assistance afforded. The Revised Code, — the name
given to the new regulations, — has been rather fa-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 85
mous in England for the objections it has caUed forth
on the part of the Church. There is, without doubt,
some exaggeration in these grievances ; we cannot,
however, fail to observe that the intention of Govern
ment has been to extend and not to elevate the level
of education among the people in the various schools.
The coiu-se of study conceived and carried out in
some villages by certain clergymen, some time back,
was far more liberal than the Privy Council pro
gramme.* Be that as it may, the action of the civil power
in these matters has no resemblance whatever to that
which we eaU State intervention. In the first place,
this intervention can, in England, be freely rejected
by renouncing the material advantages which it brings
with it ; and in the next place, it does not at aU
do away with local self-government. Two forces are
acting in concert in this matter, society in general
and the parish, — that which we caU in France la
Commune. The system of voluntary confributions,
when it works alone, has this inconvenience about it,
that it liberaUy provides rich districts with the aid
and assistance which is denied in poorer locaUties.
This source of charity somewhat resembles those
mountain torrents which are fuU enough in winter-

* The teaching in these schools is at present limited to instruc
tion in reading, writing, and arithmetic. The course of study
traced out about 1859 by a few country rectors embraced several
other branches of secular knowledge.

86 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
time, when there is plenty of water everywhere, but
which are dried up in the summer, when there is the
most need for their supplies. At the present time,
thanks to the disfribution of the public grants, this
inequality is much less observable, for elementary
schools are now supported by three branches of in
come — ^the subscriptions of the parish, the payments
of the children, and the subsidies of the Government.
A section of the EngUsh clergy bring a special
charge against the Government of having set a trap
for them, and of having taken advantage of these
grants in order to seciUarise elementary education.
But what truth is there in this charge ? The Church
and the Dissenters have an equal right to ask for the
State subsidy, and their applications are received with
an equal favour. There is no occasion for any diffi
culty in a district where there are a considerable
number of Church people, and also a tolerably power
ful body of Dissenters ; in a case like this we find
two schools established. It is very different fi-om this,
however, in a great many villages. The mass of
wealth is generaUy found in the hands of those pro
fessing the established reUgion, while the Dissenters
are usuaUy not very rich ; and to obtain any assist
ance from the public exchequer, it is necessary for a
congregation first to collect among themselves a sum
of money which is very often much beyond their
means. There is no other resource, therefore, for
dissenting families but to send their chUdren to the

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. S7
parish school ; but this is a school belonging to the
Church of England, and they can only be received
there on sufferance. It must be acknowledged that
most of the clergy are Uberal enough in their views
to receive into the fold these young wandering sheep ;
yet the religious instruction, which is here inseparable
from the secular teaching, brings with it more than
one inconvenience. The Catechism and other for
mularies are taught in the parish school ; and this
course of instruction sometimes excites the secret
alarm of parents deeply attached to the principles of
their sect.
The Government, impressed with this state of
things, and fearing that a considerable number of
poor children would thus be excluded from these
means of instruction by the scruples of their parents,
determined latterly to infroduce what the English
call the Consdence Clause. This is a new stipulation
dictated by the Government to those who accept its
aid. It requires school managers to receive aU the
chUdren .in a parish, whether they belong to the
Church of England or not ; and it Ukewise forbids
them to place under religious insfruction any children
whose parents are opposed to it. This clause has
called forth a very energetic controversy on the part
of the ecclesiastical authorities aU over the kingdom.
With many of the clei-gy, defending the school seemed
the same as defending the Church. The resistance,
therefore, which this measure has experienced can-

88 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
not much be wondered at ; and certainly there is no
want of arguments to bring against it. Has it not
been the Church's money which has buUt these
schools, from which they now want to expel, at least
in part, the teaching of the national faith ? Has it
not been the generous exertions of the clergy which
have for ages borne the entire burden of elementary
instruction in the country districts ? And what is it
that they are now asking of them ? To dissever their
former work, to keep silence as to their doctrines,
and to open their doors to a mere indifference in
matters of reUgion ! Divines, therefore, confine them
selves to the old formula : ffblumus leges Anglice mutari.
On the other side, it may be said, has not the
State also its duties to fulffi ? As trustee of the pub
lic purse, is it not its duty to respect the pecuniary
rights and religious convictions of aU its members?
In order to facilitate the attendance at school of the
whole of the children of the working classes, is it not
its duty to pull down the barriers which are opposed,
by the differences in religious belief, to the^fuU pro
gress of lay secular instruction ? It is difficult to
foretell the issue of a contest in which the highest
authorities would be found engaged on one side or
the other ; but one thing is very certain, whatever may
be said, that the Government has no intention of un
dermining the foundation of the Church in England.
Elementaiy instruction is, after aU, chiefly in
the hands of the clergy. For example, if it is re-

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 89
quired to nominate a schoolmaster, he is selected by
the parson of the parish, who is in many cases the
sole manager of the schooL GeneraUy, however,
four or five laymen, members of the Church of Eng
land, are chosen by the subscribers to assist the
minister in the exercise of this control, thefr names
also being entered in the trust-deed. He goes in
and out of the school as if it were his own house ;
the chUdren aU know and respect him; they are
something like a second family to him. In some
countries, one might be frightened at contemplating
the great influence exercised by the Church over the
instruction of the people ; but the causes of distrust
which operate elsewhere do not exist in England.
Here both riches and knowledge impose their obli
gations. A clergyman, belonging to the richer and
educated classes, feels bound to communicate to those
beneath him some of those benefits which he himself
has received from society. The Protestant clergy,
besides, have no dread of enlightenment ; for experi
ence has shown them that, among an independent
people, education is alone able to form a guarantee
against the abuse of the liberty enjoyed.
What a change also has shown itself, since the
early years of this century, in the whole appearance
of the buildings devoted to elementary instmction !
Years ago, in the country, the duties of the school
master were sometimes assumed by the barber ; and
the emblems of his trade — a long pole with a shaving-

90 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
dish on the end — figured in front of his shop or of
his school, whichever you may Uke to call it. At the
present day, the place where the children assemble
for instruction is often nothing but an old brick
buUding; but the inside walls are neatiy white
washed, and ornamented with pictures, geographical
charts, or various scientific appliances. During sum
mer time, the joyous rays of the sun and the sweet
song of the birds come in through the open windows,
all hung round with a leafy curtain. Nothing has
been neglected which can render instruction attrac
tive ; for it is well understood that ignorance is the
only enemy that English institutions have to dread.
The happy effects of this system of education, in
which the State and the clergy both concur, are not
confined to the mother counfry alone; the benefits
are extended also to the Colonies, to which every
year such vast numbers of emigrants make their way.
Some years ago, sixteen young girls were sent from
a workhouse school to Australia. AU of them found
suitable positions, and one had the good fortime to
marry a man of large fortune. Having subsequently
returned to England, she went in her carriage to pay
a visit to the workhouse where she had spent her
early years ; and having sent for the schoolmistress,
she said to her, " How heartily I thank you I for I
owe it to your kind care, and to the lessons you
taught me, that I have been able to acquire this
position in the world."

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 91
Although the EngUsh clergy fully believe that
they are foUowing out a Divine work, it is neverthe
less by human and material means that they seek to
attain success. Li this last point of view the Church
among our neighbours does not escape the attacks of
criticism ; some reproach her for her great wealth,
and others lay to her charge the confiision in her
doctrines, and the divisions with which she is rent.
There! are other grievances complained of which we
shaU touch upon in our remarks on Religious Life
in Towns. For my own part, I am at the present
time struck with the harmony which subsists be
tween Protestantism and English institutions gene
raUy. In other European countries the question of
reUgion has often been a source of social conflict.
If a nation had the good fortune to secure for itself,
after a revolution, the forms of representative govern
ment, she next day found herself face to face with
an inflexible opinionated class of ideas, independent
of aU confrol by the civil powers. The new govern
ment had then to contend, in the consciences of its
subjects, with a law that was above the law, with an
absolute authority superior to that of the State, and
with a foreign and infalUble sovereign, whose oracles,
and sometimes even anathemas, checked at every step
the march of progress.
Nothing of the kind has existed in England since
the Revolution of 1688. By diminishing tiie supre
macy of the ecclesiastical body, and by harmonising

92 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
religious institutions with poUtieal authority, the
State threw aside beforehand one of the principal
causes of discord. This absence of absolutism in
articles of faith has rendered easy, — across the Chan
nel, — the victory of a constitutional rdgime ; for there
was already rooted in the habits of the people a reU
gion based on the great principle of the liberty of
investigation, and*on the individual responsibility of
every man towards God and his own conscience.
Since the above date the EngUsh people have exercised
a continual confrol, if not over the foundation of dog
mas, at least over the external forms through which
they are manifested. With them the power that
makes the laws is the same that presides over the
affairs of the National Church. The clergy are mar
ried, and, to a certain extent, functionaries of the
State ; they are, therefore, bound to the maintenance
of the constitution, and form by no means a separate
caste in society. They may, perhaps, be animated by
a certain esprii de corps ; but their interest and their
duties incessantly draw them back into the great cur
rents of pubUo opinion. The Church, thus joined to
the State, forms the key-stone to the arch of the poh
tical edifice, and this edifice itself exists in England
only by the nation's wiU.

CHAPTER IV.
Religious Lite in Towns— Lambeth Palace— The Chapel, the Great
Hall, and the Guard Eoom — The prison in the Lollards'
Tower — Dungeon of detention — Organisation of the Church
of England — The two Primates — The Archbishop of Canter
bury — Annual visit of the Stationers' Company to Lambeth
Palace — The arohiepiscopal city of Canterbury — The "Ta
bard" Inn — Chaucer and Shakespeare — Palace Street — St.
Martin's church — Origin of Christianity in England — St.
Augustin, first Archbishop of Canterbury — External appear
ance of the cathedral and cloisters — Sunday service in a
Protestant temple — Thomas ft Becket — Nature of a cathedral
chapter — Organisation of deans and canons — The chapter
of Canterbury.
At the first glance, who would suspect that the Eng
Ush had any system of worship at all ? The streets
and pubhc places are with them so devoid of any
parade of their religion ; the priest is blended with the
citizen ; and neither sacred images, nor processions,
nor priestly vestments, are ever to be met with in the
open air. There is little else but the strict observance
of the Sabbath that gives any outward indication that
England is a Christian nation, and even on that day
religious feelings seem to withdraw themselves into
the churches and houses. The potency of the institu
tion of the Sabbath does not, however, rest in the
law, but in the force of public opinion, and in the

94 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
customs of the people. The law is very tolerant, but
not so the customs which here watch over the popular
faith. In principle, every one is master in his own
house ; but almost every householder is provided with
neighbours who would feel scandalised at the sound
of profane music on Sunday. Even the chUdren in
the parks and public promenades refrain from run
ning about and joining in noisy jgames and from
immoderate laughter. We may judge from this what
a restraint would be imposed by feeUngs of public
propriety on any course of action calculated to frample
on the national usages. Simday is also the only day
of rest laid down by the law ; the English certainly
keep -a few other holidays, such as Christmas-day
and Good Friday; but they are not at all of the same
nature as the Sundays. Good Friday is for the work
ing classes a great day for excursions and pleasure-
taking, for it does not enter into the character of the
Anglo-Saxon to give himself up to the gloom of a
tearful piety. As for Christmas it is, with our
neighbours the day above aU others for family
festivals. In Great Britain reUgion is based on universal
consent, and although it may appear but Uttie in out
ward forms, it has not the less deeply impressed its
stainp on the ideas, the literature, and the mode of
life of the EngUsh. There also exists in the very
bosom of the nation a strongly constituted Church,
whose internal mechanism is moulded on the model

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 95
of their civil institutions. The Queen is the head
both of Church and State ; but in matters of faith
especiaUy she reigns, but does not govern. The
executive power in the spiritual body is represented
by the primates, the bishops, and the chapters ; the
legislative power, on the other hand, — as far as any
exists, — is located in the ecclesiastical convocations.
The counfry clergy* are united to those in the towns,
as weU as to the superior authorities, by various inter
mediate officials, and especially, in certain dioceses,
by the rural deans. It is this organisation which I
wish to represent to the reader by placing him, as it
were, on the very scene of action.
Various congregations have been formed without
the pale of the Established Church, who maintain the
right of worshipping God in their own way, and who
are designated under the general term oi Dissenters
or Nonconformists. Some among them cast aside aU
kinds of rites and ceremonies ; even kneeling down,
in their eyes, is a degradation. Under all this con
tempt of certain practices, there is, however, hidden
a coUection of dogmas and duties to which these sects
adhere with a frigid obstinacy. This religious Ufe is
spread over the whole of England ; but the towns,
and above aU the cathedral cities, are the best places
in which to form a correct idea both of the system
as a whole and also in its various details.

* See Chapter I.

96 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
The Archbishop of Canterbury forms the con
necting Unk between the Queen and the AngUcan
clergy; it is therefore quite natural that he should
have his palace in London, the seat of government,
instead of residing in his didcese. Lambeth Palace,
built on the banks of the Thames, has been the ap
panage of the Primates of All England since the
time of Richard I. Lambeth was once a suburban
village, which has now become merged in the per
petual encroachments of London, and has ended in
forming a portion of the metropolis. The best way
of going to it is by water ; steamboats, starting from
London Bridge, carry throngs of passengers to it
all day long, stopping, however, at various stations,
fijrmed by fioating jetties fastened by chains, which
rise and fall with the periodical ebb and flow of the
tide. Going up the river, we leave on the right St.
Paul's, Somerset House, the Houses of ParUament,
bristling all over with stone pinnacles, and West
minster Abbey ; and then, on the opposite bank of
the river, we soon see a sombre edifice partaking
both of an ecclesiastical and baronial character. The
outline of some very old buildings scattered about in
the green foliage, but joined together by an outer
wall foUowing the course of the river, is nearly aU
that we are able to distinguish at a first and distant
view. At last the steamer stops, and having reached
the shore and ascended the steep bank, we find our-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 97
selves in a small open space, on the left of which
stands the great fortified gate of the palace, a gloomy
facade of red brick, flanked with two high square
and embattled towers, standing out boldly from the
waUs, and pierced with flve rows of narrow windows
enclosed with iron bars. This gate was rebuilt in
1490 by Cardinal Morton, and took the place of a
stiU sterner-looking one, of which it was said, " that
it was made in order to welcome friends and to re
pulse enemies." Even as it now is, it seemed to me
in its rude feudal beauty quite menacing enough,
and I rather hesitated for an instant to raise the
knocker on a smaU door, modernly and deeply cut
out in the form of a pointed arch in the thickness of
the wall between the towers.
A porter came and opened the door to me ; I
informed him of the aim of my visit, and showed him
a letter which had been sent me by the directions of
the Archbishop, and which authorised me to inspect
the interior of the palace. WhUst he read and re
read the terms of this missive, I had time enough to
look round me at the appearance of the place. I
was standing under a massive arched vault, supported
by four stout piUars placed at the four corners, from
the capitals of which spring fine stone mouldings,
intersecting one another at acute angles at the centre
of the roof. The porter's lodge opens on the right,
whUst through the vast opening of the archway be
tween the two towers the outer court is visible, also
H

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

known under the name of the Bishop's Walk, It is
in fact a sort of garden, bounded on the left by an
ivy-covered waU, and on the right, from one end
to another, by the library, which was once the ban-
queting-haU. In every detail of this latter buUding
it is easy to recognise the debased style of ai'chi-
tecture which flourished in England in the time of
Charles II. Its roof, supported on abutments or
buttresses with quoins of white stone, rises somewhat
feebly into the air, and is ornamented, or rather
loaded, with great globes overtopping the frieze, and
is crowned in the centre with a lantern of a quaint
style. The walk is closed up at the end by an old
tower, the Water Tower, faced with stone eaten away
by time ; and with this building is connected, at a
little distance off, the Lollards' Tower, of evil memory.
When the porter had at last made himself master of
the contents of the letter, he informed me that he
would ring for the housekeeper, and that I might
proceed by a way which he would point out to the
archbishop's apartments in the inner com't.
The entrance to this inner court is through
another vaulted doorway adjoining the manuscript
room, leading into a large uncovered space, in the
middle of which is a green lawn surmounted by an
ornamented cross carrying gas-lights. In front there
is a high waU hiding the stables, and indeed itself
half hidden with fine frees ; whilst on the left there
are old buildings to which more modern structures

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

are joined on with a certain degree of harmony. It
would be difficult to decide on any one epoch for the
building ; for that which remains of the ancient part
of it seems to belong to several different periods of
art. The architect of the more modern portions has
adopted a mixed style, which . cleverly links together
the more discordant parts of the edifice.
The porter's signal had been understood, and a
female in black was waiting for me on the threshold
of the entrance-haU. The archbishop was not there,
and it may be easily understood that he would not be
sorry to get away from the gloomy solemnity of his
official residence. I walked through a considerable
number of apartments, furnished in a simple and
sober way befitting the dignity of an ecclesiastical
palace. The waUs were here and there ornamented
with fine pictures ; amongst which I especiaUy re
marked the portrait of Archbishop Warham by Hol
bein, and also that of Luther clasping the hand of his
wife. The most interesting parts of the building are
the chapel, the great hall, and the guard-room.
The chapel is very ancient, in the early English
style, and may weU have been the work of the war-
Uke founder of Lambeth palace.* In this very

* Matthew Paris gives an account of an armed quarrel be
tween Boniface Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Prior of St.
Bartholomew in Smithfield. It was, however, this scandalous
scene which gave cause for the erection of the ecclesiastical
palace at Lambeth towards the middle of the thirteenth century.

100 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
chapel WycUffe, who 'was afterwards styled the Pre
cursor of the Reformation, appeared before a councU
of Papal delegates assembled to pronounce on his
docfrines. The affair, however, took rather an awk
ward turn, when the people dared to force their way
into the sacred place, and some citizens of London
spoke boldly in favour of the accused. Before this
mental commotion the proud prelates "frembled,"
says a Catholic historian, " like reeds shaken by the
wind; their language, which up to this time had
been harsh and threatening, became then as sweet as
honey."* They merely forbade WycUffe to repeat
his heretical propositions, either in. the schools or in
the pulpit. Yet they were destined to be again re
peated two centuries later with still greater effect;
and the echoes of this chapel first frembled at these
new doctrines, and afterwards succumbed to them.
The great haU, rebuilt in 1570, and at the pre
sent day converted into a library, is adorned with a
splendid window facing the door of entrance; the
painted glass in which, comprising the porfrait of
Archbishop Chioheley and the coats-of-ai-ms of Juxon
and of Philip of Spain, husband of Mary Tudor, has
been collected together fi-om the other parts of the
ancient palace. How striking is the richness of the

* This historian is Walsingham, author of the Historia Anglice,
According to his account, this fear-inspired indulgence was very
prejudicial to the digoity both of the legates and of the Church
generally.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 101
carved wainscoting and the vaulted roof, borne on
semicircular arches of oak or chestnut, and between
them the elegantly carved centre bosses, boldly cut
out with the chisel. In this great hall the primates
of all England- in the olden time used to entertain
their guests — princes, peers, and high dignitaries of
the Church. The annals of the period have handed
down many traditions of the magnificence of these
festivals. Before you reach the guard-room, there is a
gaUery lighted by four lanterns or glazed skylights,
which throw down the hght from the ceiling. On
the waUs is spread out a series of portraits of the
former archbishops. The whole reUgious history of
England is here. The chief events which have,
during long ages, disturbed the conscience of a
nation, seem to live over again in these cold and
silent faces. What a stately council of the dead is
here ! Among the representatives of these succes
sive ages, the eye first seeks out the epoch of the
Reformation, the "point de la rupture," as Bossuet
calls it. First of aU there is Cranmer, the noble
martyr who was burnt at Oxford. Between him
and the Protestant Archbishop Parker is placed, like
a blood-stain, Cardinal Pole, awaking aU the terrible
recoUections of Mary Tudor. Other memorials of
troublous times follow in quick succession, — ^the por
trait of Laud, painted by Van Dyck ; the archbishop
who, as is well known, ascended the scaffold, on

102 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
which Charles I. was soon to follow him. With
Juxon we reach the violent era of the Restoration,
when the sword was turned round against the Puri
tans. Gradually the storm subsides, and the series
of Protestant archbishops, calm heftceforth in the
consciousness of victory, is continued as far as the
waUs of the guard-room, now used as the state dining-
room. This uninterrupted succession of ancient and
modern primates serves well to explain the idea of
the Anglican Church. In her line of continuity the
Reformation is neither a gap nor a severance ; it is
merely a development.
Lambeth Palace has been sfyled the British Vati
can. And, in fact, how many reminiscences are
crowded under those stern arches, haunted by aU
the ghosts of history ! Mary Tudor, Elizabeth, nay
almost aU the Kings and Queens of England have
come there to consult the Archbishops of Canterbury
on affairs of Church and State. Peter the Great
has been there also ; Latimer, Thomas More, and the
Catholic Archbishop Fisher were, in turn, imprisoned
there on account of their religious opinions ; for this
palace was once a prison also, and former archbishops
were in the habit of combining with their office as
primate that of an inquisitor also. The sinister glory
of having been the first to commenoe religious per
secutions belongs, it is said, to Archbishop Arundel,
who in 1401 caused a priest named William Sawtre
to be degraded and burnt in Smithfield. Chicheley,

—  ^  Ll^  ^  . 
RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 103
who succeeded Arundel, did not wish, as it seemed,
to be in any way behind his predecessor, and ordered
the building of the LoUards' Tower.* This was the
portion of the palace I had not yet A'isited.
The way to it is through the Water Tower, at
the base of which is a vaulted chamber called the
post-room. There is, in fact, in the centre of it a
wooden post, which, as firm as a free, partly helps
to support the mass of the tower. Tradition wiU
have it that it was to this post that they used to
tie heretics when they wished to inflict on them the
torture of the lash. This chamber communicates at
one end with the chapel, where repenting LoUards
might, if they wished, pronounce their recantation,
and at the other end with the tower, the rough
stone steps of which I mounted with some degree
of emotion. AU has remained intact in this portion
of the palace, — the gaoler's room, the ceUs, the
dungeon, the platform, and the niches ornamented
with Gothic sculpture, among which, on the outside.

? The name of this sect, which took its rise in Germany at the
commencement of the fourteenth century, has very much exer
cised the learning of etymologists. Some derive it from the
German word lullen, lillen, or lallen, signifying to sing ; others
from the Latin word loliwn (tares), in allusion to the parable of
the Evangelist ; and others from Walter Lollard, or Lolhard, one
of the chiefs of the sect. It is certain that the epithet of Lol
lard was subsequently used in England to designate all classes of
heretics. It was applied in the latter sense, in England, to the
followers of WyclifEe.

104 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
figures the statue of Thomas a Becket. Going up
the spiral staircase, we reach the first fioor of the
tower through a heavy door, studded with large-
headed nails and strengthened with large pieces of
oak. Opening this door, groaning on its rusty hinges,
we find ourselves in a small dungeon, measuring
about thirteen feet in length and eleven and a half
feet in width. This chamber is now Ughted by two
smaU windows ; but formerly, if I may believe my
cicerone, its only means of light was a smaU aperture
in the form of a loop-hole, and it was consequently
wrapped in obscurify. The walls and flag-stones are
furnished with thick, Ul-planed planks, on which
may be seen iron rings riveted in at intervals, and
on these rings there still hung, some forty years ago,
the remains of chains. To each of these rings, —
I counted seven of them, — used to be fastened a
prisoner, tantalised by aU the chai-ms of life and
nature outside. There seemed to be a refinement
of cruelty even in the elevated position of the prison :
the captives could hear from the Thames the ripple
of the water stirred by the oar, the song of the birds,
and the rustling of the leaves ; for the tops of tiie
tall trees nearly touched the sides of the tower. A
place for a chimney seemed to open on one side of
the cell ; but the chimney itself is nothing but a
deceit ; there is no passage for the smoke, which
beat back into the room and suffocated the unfortu
nate victims It was, doubtless, one way of dealing

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 105
with intractable heretics. Tliere is still a trap-door
in the floor, lifted up by an iron ring, communi
cating with the river through a gloomy-looking hole ;
down this they used to throw the dead bodies. The
wooden lining hiding the waUs of the prison is
covered aU over with almost iUegible characters,
scratched with the point of a nail or cut with a
knife. They may be looked upon as hieroglyphics
written by the hands of the dead on the walls of their
sepulchre. Yet this dungeon, with aU its horrors, could not
impose silence on human thought. The prisons were
no longer large enough, and it became necessary
to establish at the entrance of the palace, close by
the lodge now occupied by the porter, a dungeon
for the temporary reception of the LoUards when
there was no room in the tower. Tradition teUs us
that a certain man named Grafton, whose name is
inscribed on the wall with his own hands, perished
in this chamber. Do not such localities as these
inspire us with reflections, — sad enough, but still
salutary ? With the lapse of time, the dungeon at
Lambeth has become victorious over the palace.
From the dark night of the prison-cell that liberty
of thought which they were bent on interdicting has
come forth friumphant. The shades of those whom,
in bygone ages, they cast down into the flowing river,
are to-day the ruUng powers in these solitary gaUe
ries, under the sway of a Protestant archbishop.

106 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Independentiy of the Queen, — the lay chief of
the spiritual power, — the Church recognises two
primates, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the
Archbishop of York. The first is Primate of all
England and Metropolitan, whUst the latter is only
Primate of England ; a subtie distinction, certainly,
but still not badly expressing the degrees of rank
The Archbishop of Canterbury has the honour of
crowning the Sovereign soon after the accession to'
the throne, whilst the Archbishop of York crowns
the Royal Consort only. In pubUc ceremonies the
two primates take precedence before aU temporal
peers who are not of the blood-royal, and the Lord
ChanceUor of England takes his place between the
two prelates. The Archbishop of Canterbmy being
the acknowledged chief of the Church, is the prelate
appealed to by the ministers of State to consult with
them in all matters relative to religion. In the
House of Lords his opinions, when they are not op
posed during the sitting of Parliament by the other
ecclesiastical peers, are held to represent the senti
ments of the episcopal bench.
England is divided, in a spfritual point of view,
into two great provinces, Canterbury and York ; both
of which, on the other hand, are subdivided into
dioceses, and the two. archbishops exercise an actual
jurisdiction over their suffragan bishops. Between
the former and the latter there also exist more than
one honorary distinction. The archbishop, in official

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 107
style, exercises his functions " by Divine provi
dence," whilst the bishops occupy their sees "by
Divine permission" only. At his accession to his
diocese a bishop is only installed; the archbishop, on
the contrary, is enthroned. After all, thSse external
signs only serve to indicate the gradations of hier
archical authority. It very frequently happens that
the Archbishop of .York succeeds to the throne of
Canterbury when it becomes vacant, and Dr. Long-
ley, the present Primate of aU England, is no ex
ception to this general rule. The emoluments of the
Archbishop of Canterbury amount to 15,000Z. a-year.
By a very ancient custom, money, bread, and
victuals are given away at Lambeth Palace three
times a week to ten poor people belonging to the
parish of Lambeth. This parish is one of the worst
provided parishes in London, and the palace stands
in the midst of a mixtin'e of miserable houses, in
which every kind of poverty abounds. On the days
of disfribution, a dingy-looking group waits in front
of the great feudal gateway until the door is opened,
and, as the ten claimants are changed on each oc
casion, thirty poor people in aU receive this charity.
The episcopal residence was in the habit of receiving
once a year quite a different class of visitors. On
the day of the instaUation of the new Lord Mayor,
a procession by water used to take place on the
Thames. When Archbishop Tennison held the see
of Canterbury, one of his relations, who was master

108 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
of the Stationers' Company, took it into his head
to go on as far as Lambeth in his canopied barge.
The archbishop sent out wine for the merchants,- and
new bread, old cheese, and plenty of ale for the
boatmen of the corporation. Next year the same
barge again stopped before the walls of the old
palace, and received the same hospitaUty. At the
present day this annual visit has passed out of use.*
The official residence of the primates of aU Eng
land is certainly in London ; but if you want to form
a good idea of an ancient arohiepiscopal see, you
must go to Canterbury itself. Before leavuig London
for this latter city, I visited the Tabard or Talbot Inn,
in memory of Chaucer and his joyous pUgrims. This
old inn is situate near the London-Bridge raUway
station, at the end of a court opening into High
Sti'cet, Borough. On the right in this court there is
a public -house of a tolerably modern appearance.

* Dr. Longley now occupies the see of Canterbury. Born at
Rochester in 1794, he, first studied at Westminster School, from
whence he passed to the University of Oxford. Nominated Pub
lic Examiner in 1815, he afterwards became Tutor and Censor at
Christ Church. He was presented by this college to the small
living of Cowley, a village in the environs of Oxford. In 1829 he
became Head Master of Harrow School. In 1831 he married
Caroline, eldest daughter of the first Lord Congleton. The see of
Ripon having been founded in 1830, he became its first bishop.
After having been promoted from the see of Ripon to that of
Durham, and from thence to the Archbishopric of York, he was
finally, in 1862, invested with the supreme dignity in the Church
of England.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 109
although the interior of it still retains some fraces
of antiquity. On the left, and fronting the public-
house, there is a much older building, doubling round
the end of the court, with a gloomy ground-floor ;
and on the first-floor an open gallery, protected by
a wooden balustrade along its whole length, and
divided at intervals by light round pillars, supporting
an old, high-pitched, tiled roof. This building, which
seems but Uttie modernised, serves at present as a
dep6t for the goods traffic of the Midland Railway,
and there has been some talk of puUing it down.
A defaced picture, the colours of which have been
long since washed out by the rain, is placed above
the gaUery. In days gone by, one might have read
the foUowing inscription : " This is the inn where
Geoffrey Chaucer and twenty-nine pilgrims lodged,
the eve of their journey to Canterbury in 1383." I
will leave the archaeologists to decide the question
whether this be really the hostelrie which the poet
sung of, or whether another' inn has been built at
some unknown era on the same spot.
I did not immoderately regret the good old times
when devotion led one to plod along on foot in mak
ing a pilgrimage, and when " the poetry of fravel-
ling," as it is caUed, was in ftiU perfection; so I
wiUingly made up my mind to go by railroad. My
travelling companions certainly did not at aU re
semble Chaucer's gay pilgrims. Instead of beguiling
the length of the journey— not very long, though,

110 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
nowadays — ^by tales and merry talk, each of them
preserved, in his separate seat, a silence most de
cidedly British. How many things steam has
changed ! After two or three hours, during which
I saw flit by me, as in a dream, the well-known
scenery of Kent, we passed into the middle of a rich
valley, — the vaUey of the Stour, — surrounded with
hills dotted over with clumps of trees and windmiUs,
and through immense meadows, in which one was
almost surprised to see the cows quietiy feeding.
These, at any rate, must have escaped the cattle-
plague now devastating England. A few clear rivu
lets make their way down the gentie decUvities of
the hills, and serve to water the hop-gardens ; and
then, after making numberless wmdings, without,
as it were, venturing to enter the town, they mostiy
run into the Stour, a smaU sfream with its bed aU
bordered with long trailing plants, undulated by the
rippling of the water, like the tresses of a Naiad.
This sti'eam, at any rate, has no hesitation, and
boldly makes its way into Canterbmy, first hurling
itself, mider the shade of some old frees, against the
wheel of a miU.
On arriving at Canterbury by railway, the city
lies spread out on the right, and the cathedral stands
out over the smoky roofs into the clear sky, its three
towers almost obscured by a cloud of jackdaws.
These ancient temples are Uke sleeping beauties in
the wood, and seem to render every thing drowsy

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. Ill
round them. Thus it is that this old city of Can
terbury has preserved for ages the appearance of a
town which slumbers, wrapped up in its religious
traditions and its thoroughly English routine. It has
no manufactories, no workshops, scarcely any local
trade. The inhabitants derive their livelihood almost
entirely from agriculture and the cultivation of the
hop. We enter by the west gate, a gloomy machico-
lated mass of stone, flanked with two large round
towers, on each side of which the remains of the old
waU can stiU be fraced out, which, though now puUed
down, used to serve as the boundaries of the city.
Before passing under this archway of formidable
aspect, I spied out in the main sfreet of the suburb
an old inn, with the porfrait of Falstaff in front of
it — a character easily to be recognised by his great
stomach and piriipled nose. Now, what on earth
could this king of drunkards have to do in an eccle
siastical city ? I had scarcely asked myself this ques
tion, when I bethought me of the passage in Henry
IV., where Poins proposes to Falstaff and his bold
companions to start together for Gad's-hiU, and there
to lay violent hands on " the pilgrims going to Can
terbury with rich offerings, and the fraders riding
from Canterbury to London with thefr fat purses."
Chaucer and Shakspeare, then, are the two hterary
pafrons of this ancient city.
The more one advances into the heart of the town
the more one seems to plunge, so to speak, into the

112 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
middle ages. Groups of winding streets, pierced
with narrow alleys and mysterious-looking passages,
are closely crowded round the cathedral. Most of
the old houses, with their lean-to roofs and pointed
gables, have been freshened up and coloured with
whitewash; some, on the contrary, have remained
in their primitive state. Amorig the latter I par
ticularly noticed a very old house in Palace Sfreet,
with plaster walls framed with wooden beams; it
had windows latticed with lead, and grotesque figures
serving as supports to the angle of the architraves.*
It was also distinguished by having its outside quite
peopled with swallows. These winged architects had
lodged their masonry in every available corner out
side the floors which overhung the sfreet, and in
order to protect their insecure nests, which no doubt
were thought to bring good fortune to the house, the
inhabitants had taken the trouble to support them
with pieces of wood.
Tradition will have it that many of these half-
ruined though picturesque dweUings served as inns
for the pilgrims who succeeded one another so nume
rously in the city of Canterbury. Mercery Lane is
pointed out, especially, as the spot where a great
* Those rough wooden carvings, that we meet with in many
other parts of the city, generally represent a fawn squatting down,
with pointed ears, goat's feet, and the breast of a woman. The
violent effort they seem to make to support the projecting parts
of the architecture has the appearance of hideously stretching the
sinews of the necji.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 113

hostelrie once stood, in which Chaucer and his com
panions took up thefr abode, after coming from the
" Tabard" in Southwark ; this lane, however, has
now lost much of its .character. A quiet Ufe seems
to have inspfred the inhabitants of Canterbury with
a taste for flower-growing. I recaU with pleasure
a narrow sfreet where the casements presented one
uniaterrupted line of window-gardens cultivated with
a high degree of skill. AU this floral array seemed
to spread an afr of youth and freshness over the old
walls. But aU this is not exactly what I came to
Canterbury to see. I ought ffrst to visit those parts
of the city in which can be fraced out something of
the origin of Christianify in England, and those also
which can give an idea of the present condition of
the national church.
Outside the ancient ramparts, on the further side
of a hiU, stands the Uttle church of St. Martin. It is
a perfect model of an English country church, and is
surrounded by a lovely churchyard, in which the
white tombs covered with flowers form a pleasing
confrast to the dark shrubs with their red berries.
The tower of St. Martin's, graceftdly overgrown with
ivy, overlooks rather an extensive prospect, and the
simple lines of the architecture altogether seem to
breathe an air of chaste antiquity. Tradition states
that this edifice was constructed by the Romans who
came to colonise England in the reign of Clau
dius, many of whom were Christians. Everything,

114 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
however, appears to show that a part of the church,
at least, was rebuilt at the commencement of the
12th century, with the materials of another and more
ancient chapel. The outside waUs, although they
have been latterly plastered over and repaired, ex-
liibit every here and there Roman tiles, which have
been laid bare by the dropping off of the cement.
Bede relates that when Augustin, England's great
apostie, arrived at Canterbury, about 597 a.d., he
found there two ancient Christian churches, one
situated within the walls to the east, the other stand
ing a short distance from the ramparts. The ffrst of
these two churches was converted into what is now
called the cathedral ; the latter is, as we have every
reason to believe, the present church* of St. Martin.
It is not generaUy known that England under the
Saxon rule was a sort of nursery for providing white
slaves for all the markets in the south of Europe,
just as Kentucky not long ago furnished negroes to
all the neighbouring States that wished for that article
of commerce. Gregory the Great, then a simple monk,
passing one day down the streets of Rome, was sfruck
with the beauty of some young people exposed for
sale, and inquired what country they came from.
Having ascertained that they were Anglo-Saxons, he
determined to be of some service to their island.* A

" A pun is attributed to him, which is quite in the taste of the
period. " If they were only Christians," he is reported to have said,
" they would be angels {angeK), and not Angles {Angli) merely."

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. US
few years after, he was elected Pope, and recoUect-
ing these poor captives, he sent Augustin, or Austin^
with forty monks, in order to convert to Christianity
the worshippers of Thor and Odin. , The missionaries
disembarked in the Isle of Thanet, and advanced as
far as Canterbury, the capital of the kingdom of Kent,
where the court was then residing. They found the
ground aU prepared for them. Beitha, the wife of
the Saxon king Ethelbert, was afready a Christian,
and, if fradition can be beheved, was in the habit,
even before the arrival of the monks, of celebrating,
together with her attendants, the mysteries of her
faith in the little chapel of St. Martin. At the present
tipie this church is divided into three distinct parts :
the porch, which has been lately restored ; the nave,
at the entrance of which stands a very ancient font of
grayish marble, in which it is aUeged that Ethelbert
was baptized by St Augustin ; and lastly, the chan
cel, on the left of which, in a recess of the waUj lies a
massive stone coffin said to contain the remains of
Queen Bertha. I was giving myself up to the poefry
of reminiscence diffused through the dim light of the
vaulted arches, and to the reflections naturaUy in
spfred by this cradle of English Christianity, when
the doors suddenly opened admitting a crowd of peo
ple. It was Simday afternoon, and the little church,
founded by the Romans, was to be utiUsed to-day for
the service of the Anglican worship.
This St. Augustin was the first Archbishop of

116 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

Canterbury. King Ethelbert gave up to him his
palace in the town to be turned into a monastery, of
which there stiU remain some remarkable vestiges.*
He also made over to him the church which had been
built by the primitive Christians within the eity-
waUs, and on the foundation of which another edifice
was soon raised, dedicated to Christ ; from thence
comes the name of Christ Church, which the cathe
dral stiU bears. Augustin had come with the inten
tion of placing England under the spfritual authorify
of the Sovereign Pontiff, or as Protestants would say,
of the Bishop of Rome. His views appear to have
met with serious opposition on the part of the ancient
Christian church, which, although it had been for a
long time persecuted by the Saxons, stUl existed,
arid wished to maintain its independence against
the usurpations of this new religious power. When
England was consolidated into one monarchy, the
city of Canterbury lost much of its political con
sequence, but as the ecclesiastical metropolis of the
kingdom it increased more and more in importance.
Its cathedral, the work of ages, embraces the whole

* This abbey, having fallen into ruins, was occupied some
years back by a breweiy, a public-house, and a bowling-green.
In 1844 the remains of this ancient religious edifice were sold by
auction, and Mr. Beresford Hope bought them, in order to turn
them into a college for Protestant missionaries. The exterior
of the great gate is much to be admired ; it has been latterly
restored, or at any rate repaired.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 117
history of the revolutions of reUgious thought as they
have affected our neighbours across Channel.
We approach the cathedral through the precinct-
gate, an ancient stone facade, blackened by time,
and covered with carvings more or less effaced,
having a cenfral low pointed arch, bearing the date
1517. This gate seems to show that the cathedral
precincts were formerly surrounded by a waU, and
that the ecclesiastical quarter thus formed, as it were,
a town within a town. This ancient arrangement is
stiU to some extent respecte<J. It is true that some
houses of a secular character have broken through
the sacred boundary, and this much to the defriment
of the central edifice, to which at least they prevent
access ; but the area is stiU generaUy occupied by the
dwellings and gardens of the prebendaries. This en
closure is divided into three courts, called the Cathe
dral Court, the Priory Court, and the Archbishop's
Court. The ancient palace of the archbishops is now
nothing but a ruin. Of the Priory, desfroyed by
Henry VIII., there only now remain some broken
doorways, some* massive piUars supporting semicir
cular arches, a fine Norman stafrease, and some dark
and mysterious passages in which the bats flit about
at nightfaU. Some large trees, almost as old as the
walls, cross and recross one another, straggling about
amidst the old materials of buildings, bricks, stones,
and flints. It is difficult to picture the wonderful
effect of the thick masses of foliage seen through the

118 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
pointed arches in these gloomy corridors, where the
footstep resounds on the hollow and sonorous flags.
In the middle of these ruins and gardens intermixed
stands the cathedi'al.
This edifice has been too often described to render
it necessary for me to pause over its architectural
details ; it wUl suffice for me to point out the internal
arrangements that Anglican Protestantism has sought
to impose on the ancient mefropolitan churches. At
present, to reach the portion of the cathedral actuaUy
devoted to worship, we ^lust pass through an empfy
nave, with its side aisles incrusted with the monu
ments of the dead. The stately nakedness of this
part of the building makes the grandeur of its lines
and the elevation of its roof stand out to aU the better
advantage. A triple stone staircase leads from the
nave to the choir, which is veiled by a rich stone
screen carved with Gothic figures, in the middle of
which opens an iron gate. This choir is isolated
from the rest of the edifice by an enclosure of Pur-
beck marble, surmounted, at a certain height, by
glass, and is a kind of church within- a church. The
services take place in it on Sunday and throughout
the week. On the right stands the archbishop's
throne, and there is also a seat for the archdeacon,
and staUs for the dean and prebendaries. The re
mainder of the wooden seats are occupied by those
attending the service and the chai'ity-schools. Two
officiating ministers, clothed with the insignia of their

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 119
canonical dignity, commence the prayers. The Sun
day service, although the same in aU material points,
is celebrated in cathedrals with much more solemnity
than in other Protestant churches. Instead of read
ing them, aU the words are chanted ; and the fuU
voices of the tenors, almost overpowered by the high-
pitched notes of the choristers, are mingled at in
tervals with the majestic tones of the organ. At the
proper time, one of the ministers proceeds to the
elevated part in front of the communion-table, sepa
rated from the chofr by some marble steps, and shut
in at the sides by tiie tombs of the ancient arch
bishops. Standing alone, and at a distance from the
congregation, he intones with a deep voice the verses
of the Decalogue. After the chanting of the prayers,
a preacher, one of the chapter, reads the sermon,
which lasts about half an hour. The music, the
prayers, and the sermon, joined to some very simple
ceremonies, form all the services which are autho
rised, even in cathedrals, by the stern austerify of
the Protestant ritual.
To fill up these great piles of stone it requires the
worship of the saints, the gUttering processions of
priests in their golden chasubles, the sacred vessels
gleaming at the back of the altar in a perfect sun
of diamonds, and the clear brilliancy of the wax-
lights. AU this splendour has vanished since the
Reformation, and the Church seems now to be doing
penance for her former idolatry ; for this is, in fact.

120 RELIGIOUS LIFE IIJ ENGLAND.
the term which the English apply to the pomps of the
Romish worship. In the place of a Uturgy which
smothered thought under the weight of external
symbolism, they have sought to substitute a Religion
which speaks to the soul.
Under this choir extends a crypt, which forms
the most ancient portion of the church, and the
origin of which is traced back to Archbishop Lan-
franc (1070 to 1077). There, in the midst of the
low massive piUars, and in the dark vaults, crumb
ling under the weight of their venerable antiquify,
a very different religious service is celebrated. I
was quite surprised to light upon traces of France
in such a place. The Calvinist refugees, who were
forced to leave the Low Countries by the cruelties
of the Duke of Alba, and subsequentiy the French
Huguenots, after the Revocation of the Edict of
Nantes, came some of them to settie in Canterbury.
Queen Elizabeth granted to them this portion of the
cathedral in which they might freely perform their
worship. Most of these French. Protestants were
silk- weavers, and they established manufactures in the
town, which now no longer exist, but which at one
period tended to enrich the productions of our neigh
bours with a new branch of industry. Their de
scendants have forgotten the language of their mother
cotuitry, but they still meet to exercise their reUgious
rites in these cold vaults, which no doubt remind
them of the unhappy times of persecution.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 121
The choir being the only part devoted to worship,
the remainder of the cathedral forms a kind of Chris
tian Musde, the entry, however, to which is forbidden
to the pubUc during the time of divine worship.
What freasures there are for the antiquary in these
disused chapels! Aisles paved with tombs, monu
ments covered with escutcheons, pierced and ragged
banners, the very spiders' webs of glory ! Li the
ancient chapel of the Holy Trinity a venerable chair
is shown, formed of three slabs. of marble, which,
according to fradition, was the seat of the ancient
Saxon kings; at the present day the Archbishops
of Canterbury are placed in this chair at the time of
their enthronement. Tourists never fail to sit down
in it when visiting the cathedral ; and the EngUslj-
women are not backward in setting the example,
though they generally complain of the hard seat in
this arm-chair cut out of the rock.
One reminiscence seems to fill the whole of the
cathedral of Canterbury, and it is the only one that I
shaU notice. We can stiU walk over the same path
that Thomas a Becket trod, when he retired through
the cloisters into the interior of the church, the day
on which he was threatened by Reginald Fitzm-se
and his companions in arms. Here, too, is the very
stone— an old altar step— on which he fell. Not far
from the door leading from the cloisters to this chapel
of St. Benedict is the chapter-house, where Henry II.
came to do penance, two years after the murder, with

122 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
naked feet, covered with sackcloth, and offering his
back, in aU humility, to the lashing of the monks.
Behind the choir was subsequently erected the famous
shrine containing the relics of the martyr ; and the
pavement which surrounds it is marked and indented
by the knees of the pilgrims. Even the very name
of Christ disappeared from the building, and it was
then called the Church of St. Thomas of Canterbury,
and he was, as it were, the god of the temple. The
truth is, that in the Middle Ages, Thomas a Becket
represented the great contest that was going on
between the ecclesiastical and civU powers. Thus
his memory, in the present day even, is a kind of
party-banner in England, rousing up the two old
factions which are stiU aUve and bitter against one
another. Those who are accused of wishing for a spi
ritual supremacy generaUy defend Thomas a Becket
as one of their own party, whilst the opponents of the
old priestiy privileges personify in this archbishop all
the unjust pretensions of a chm-ch wliich was destined
to fall sooner or later before the progress of enlighten
ment. In order to understand the nature of an episcopal
city at the present time, we must frace out the his
torical origin of Christianity in England. At first
the church had all the character of a mission, and
the residence of the clergy was in the bishop's palace.
From thence he sent out his priests to perform reli
gious services, and to preach all over his diocese, and

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 123
thither also they returned when they had performed
the duties assigned to them. The cathedral formed
the bishop's misi^ion church and the cenfre from which
his influence radiated.
When the parochial system was subsequentiy
estabhshed, the bond of union of these primitive
associations was broken up, and the members of
the clergy, instead of being coUected round the
bishop, were scattered about in the various towns
and villages, to which also they fransferred their
places of residence. The bishop, however, retained
a "certain number round his person to assist him in
councils and to officiate in the mefropolitan church.
Thus was formed what is now caUed the chapter. At
first those composing it lived together in common;
but in the lapse of time they separated, and took up
their abode in private houses round the cathedral. A
portion of food and drink, known under the name of
prebend, was originally assigned to each; this was
subsequentiy commuted for a sum of money levied
on the property and tithes belonging to each chapter.
The prebendaries lived under certain rules, but did
not necessarily take monastic vows. After the eighth
century, the bishop was wont to nominate one of
them to take his place in case of his absence and to
rule" over the others. This, therefore, is the origin of

To the dean and chapter thus constituted was
intrusted the care of the cathedral. They were

124 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
bound to provide for the proper solemnisation of the
reUgious services, and to pay out of their common
revenue the officials whom they had nominated for
this purpose. As .many of them, no doubt, were in
clined to absent themselves from the diocesan city,
and to take top long periods of leisure, a time of
obligatory residence was fixed for each canon. This
rule varied in different dioceses ; at York the term of
residence was six months, whUst at Chichester it
embraced three quarters of the year. The resi
dentiary was bound to assist every day at matins, at
prime, at high mass, and at vespers ; and during
the whole period of his residence he was not aUowed
to sleep outside the city in which the cathedral stood.
After the Reformation twelve new chapters were
instituted, which were endowed with the revenues of
the suppressed monasteries, especially the Benedic
tines. The name of newly-founded chapters was given
them, and their statutes were, it is stated, revised by
Henry VIII. himself. It is, at any rate, the case
that in these statutes the bishop's authorify forms a
very meagre element, and they are altogether much
more in the power of the secular government. The
new chapters differ also from those of ancient founda
tion as regards the mode of endowment. Under the
old system each prebendary had his own estate, which
was specially assigned to him individually for his
maintenance ; whilst in the new ones, the estates,
tithes, and other property all belonged to the chapter

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 125
in common, which distributed the revenues in equal
shares among the canons. There waS, however, an
exception in favour of the dean, who received two
shares, quia nominor leo.
At the present day these distinctions have been
effaced by an act of parliament. The separate estates,
which formed according to the old system the pre
bends of the chapter, have been confiscated and placed
under the charge of the Ecclesiastical Commission,
other property being assigned them to be held in
common, and its revenue to be equally divided among
the prebendaries. As to the dean, he now receives
a fixed payment. ' These remodeUings, it is scarcely
necessary to say, have only touched upon the chapters
of ancient foundation ; the others have retained their
original statutes, and remain much as they were
moulded by the hand of Henry VIII. The latter,
twelve in number, have, however, endeavoured, for
some years past, to improve the income derived from
their estates, by getting rid of the old system of let
ting for life, or rather for three Uves, of which we
have spoken elsewhere.
Each chapter is composed of four canons com
pelled to reside and the dean. Deaneries are in the
hands of the Queen, who confei's them on whom she
wiU. Canonries are at the disposal of the Queen and
ChanceUor, pr, in certain cases, of the Bishop. There
are dioceses in which the canons are nominated by
the chapter itself. This is a trace which has been

126 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
left of the ancient autonomy of the church, which
has been gradnaUy reduced and almost absorbed in
the authority of the civil power. Besides the canons
residentiary, there are in chapters of the new fomid-
ation, a certain number of honorary canons, who are
nominated by the bishop. These latter take no' share
in the revenues and have no duties to fulfil. The
duties of the working canons are, to reside at least
three months in every year in the cathedral cify, and
during that time to take the direction of the religious
services, assisting in them every day, also to watch
over the state of the edifice, aU mider the authority
of the dean. The latter must reside eight months of
the year in the episcopal city. His functions are, to
preside over the chapter, to take cognisance of all
business that concerns it, and to occasionally officiate
in the cathedral. The intention which predominates
in the keeping up of these mefropoUtan estabUsh-
ments is the maintenance at a certain height of a
model of pubUc worship so far as it is sanctioned by
the AngUcan rubric. The cathedral should serve as
a pattern to the other churches of the diocese. Its
architecture, its ornaments, its seiwices, all should
tend to direct the tastes and harmony of the cere
monies in the more humble edifices, which in every
way seek to conform to her example, as younger
sisters to that of an elder, whom they look upon as
the pride and star of the family.
There is another practical advantage in the cathe-

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 127
dral system. It gives an opportunity to Government
of rewarding the services of certain distinguished
members of the AngUcan church ; and we must not
lose sight of the fact, that the capitular clergy form, as
it were, the staff-officers of the church. Their duties
confer Certain honours, and these are not, like most
honours, without profit attached to them. The annual
income of the Dean of Durham is 3000Z. ; that of the
Deans of Westminster, Canterbury, and St. Paul's is
2000Z. each ; the incomes of the other deans of the
old foundations reach lOOOZ. a-year; and that of the
deans of the new foundation fluctuates between lOOOZ.
and 1500Z. The canons receive from 3501 to lOOOZ.
per annum. It is very true that many of these eccle
siastical dignities are especiaUy accessible to patron
age and high bfrth ; but they are also in many cases
awarded to talent. Many of the deans and canons
nominated during these last few years have been men
of universaUy-recognised merit, not as divines only,
but also as authors and scholars. Canterbury, as one
might expect, presents to us a most complete model
of this capitular organisation.
On the north of the cathedral stands the chapter
house, a fine buUding opening' into the cloisters, and
erected by Prior ChiUenden about the year 1400.
The dean* presides over the chapter, that is, the
* The word Dean comes from the Latin decoMMS, no doubt
because deans were at first appointed to superintend ten canons or
prebendaries.

128 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
assemblage of canons. The latter are divided into
six major canons and five minor canons. In former
times, if tradition is to be believed, they aU lived
together in common ; even now their houses are
grouped closely round the cathedral, in the precincts.
These houses are mostiy old and venerable-looking
s;toiie buildings arranged according to modern taste,
and surrounded with gardens overshadowed by the
cathedral towers, and shaded by great frees, the tops
of which are pervaded by the oracular voices of the
rooks. Everything in these calm retreats reminds
one of their former monastic character, except that
one may here and there catch sight of the fluttering
of a female dress, and may hear at intervals the fresh
and artless laugh of childhood. The Reformation
has introduced a novel element into these calm and
verdant seclusions — I mean the priest's famUy and
domestic life.*
There are besides, attached to the person of the
archbishop, two or more archdeacons, whom he him
self nominates to execute certain functions of sur
veillance in his diocese, a vicar-general, chaplains,
and, in fact, a complete clerical staff. The cathedral
is regarded as the mother church of the other churches
in the diocese, and as the centre of the parochial

* Formerly the chapters had the right of electing the bishop.
This privilege has been taken away from them, and bishops are
in the present day nominated by the Crown, in nearly the same
way as deans.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 129
system and of religious action. We must also not
lose sight of the fact that the Archbishop of Canter
bury's jurisdiction extends over a whole province,
that is, over twenfy dioceses. One of his principal
atfributes is that of convoking, with the Queen's per
mission, the bishops and representatives (or proctors)
of these various dioceses to a general assembly, over
which he presides, and which has been caUed, not
incorrectly, the Clerical Parliament.

K

CHAPTER V.
Convocation ; its origin, and what it has become in course of time
— ^Way of convoking and assembling this ecclesiastical as
sembly—Proctors—Act of Subscription — The Church Con
gress — Brother Ignatius— High Church and Low Church —
Electoral reform in the Clerical Parliament— The Traotarians
— Latitudinarians — The Broad Church — Dr. Arnold — Argu
ments in favour of a free interpretation of the Bible— Essays
and Reviews — Dr. Maurice and Byron's Oiaou/r — Eternity of
punishment rejected as an impious doctrine — Influence of
Clergy in the State — What are their political opinions ? — The
Liberation Society — Ragged churches — ^Why the working
classes wHl not go to the Established churches.
The right of occasionaUy placing itself in a position
to exercise legislative powers is one of the most
ancient privUeges of the Church of England. For
instance, that which is caUed the Convocation of the
province of Canterbury does not owe its origin to
any concession on the part of the Crown. Convo
cation began in very distant times, when ParUament
itself ffrst pretended to be a deUberative body; and
it has foUowed pari passu the destinies of the great
political assemblies of England. At tiie epoch of
the Reformation, Henry VIII. deprived this synod
of all the power that might at all tend to render it
dangerous to the State. The clergy were enjoined

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 131

not to assemble without the consent of the Sovereign,
and in no way to place themselves in opposition to
the prerogatives of the Crown and the laws and cus
toms of the kingdom. Convocation originaUy had
the power to impose taxes on the clergy; but this
right was taken away in 1665. The Church con
sented to place itself under the authority of the com
mon law, .that is, to submit, just as the laity do, to
the measures passed by ParUament. In process of
time the synod was reduced to a position of merely
nominal power, m/igni nominis vjmhra. This assem
bly was stiU convoked at the opening of each new
Parliament; it certainly enjoyed, in principle, the
right of legislating on religious matters, but, in fact,
it was completely in the hands of the civil authori
ties, who could always control, and indeed dissolve it,
at their own pleasure. Scarcely had the representa
tives of the clerical body met and commenced their
deliberations when an order woidd abruptly come
from the Crown to them to suspend their labours.
This state of things went on up to 1860, when seve
ral influences were set to work to endeavour to re
suscitate this ancient privilege of the Church. These
great efforts were not altogether unfruitful ; and Con
vocation now fiOtts a place in the constitutional system
of the kingdom.
In order to assemble the clergy in convocation
a letter is necessary from the Queen to the Arch
bishop of Canterbury. The archbishop sends this

132 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
mandate to the dean, who then addresses a citation
to aU the bishops of the province. The ecclesiastics
attending this assembly form two distinct classes;
those who take their seats by right of dignity, that
is, because they fill an elevated rank in the Church ;
and those who are raised to the assembly by right
of election; the latter are caUed proctors, that is,
delegates. As soon as the members of Convocation are as
sembled in one of the courts at Westminster, they
separate into two houses, the Upper House and the
Lower House. This division at once recals to mind
the arrangements of the civil parliament, on the
model of which the clerical parliament is framed.
The Upper House, composed of bishops, is presided
over by the Archbishop of Canterbmy, Primate and
Metropolitan; the Lower House nominates a Pro
locutor or Speaker, who is deputed to manage the
debates. The two houses communicate with each
other by means of deputations.
This clerical assembly has principaUy in view
the planning out of schemes of laws, which wiU be
afterwards submitted by the Government to the ap
proval of the House of Commons and the Peers.
The discussion on the subjects in the " orders for the
day" opens first in the Lower House ; the members
there speak freely, either for or against, and when
the resolutions have been put to the vote, they are
carried by the Prolocutor, foUowed by his assessors.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 133
to the Upper House. There the bishops decide, and
give a final judgment on them.
It is then the part of the Government either to
give the weight of their influence to the measures
passed by Convocation, or merely to let them drop
into oblivion. It happens, in fact, that very far
from all the schemes of law elaborated by the synod
get even so far as the doors of ParUament ; most of
them, on the confrary, rest peaceably buried in the
Umbo of the ecclesiastical world. Some years ago
the learned assembly stiU deliberated in empty show
only ; their efforts, as it were, to galvanise a corpse
were the subject of laughter, even in England. The
Times, which is not too tender with the clergy,
although it nobly defends the reUgion of the State,
compared Convocation to a maypole, " round which
a company of old boys, fantasticaUy tricked out,
performed periodical dances, as long as the autho
rify of the State aUowed them." The concurrence
of the Queen, it was said, was necessary in order
to give Ufe to this official meeting of the clergy,
and the Queen, for reasons which it is not difficult
to understand, decUned to take a part. And yet how
much things have changed, even since those days !
The adoption by the civil authorify of a toler
ably recent measure* has shown that, in 1865, the
* This measure renders obligatory the subscription by which
the young clergyman promises to profess the doctrines of the
Church of England.

134 EELIGIOUS LIFE EST ENGLAND.
long slumbering vigour of Convocation was not quite
extinct. Encouraged by the success it then mfet
with, the institution tried to sfrengthen itself by
enlarging the base of its electoral suffrage. Up to
that time, eighty-two members sat ex officio in the
Convocation of the province of Canterbury, whUst
only twenfy-five were elected by the chapters, and
forty-two by the parochial clergy. It was decided,
that in future the number of proctors, represent
ing about ten thousand incumbents, should be equal
to that of the ex officio members and the delegates
from the chapters. Some proposed even to extend
the same right to curates, and thus to infroduce a
sort of universal suffrage into the Church; but this
measure was rejected as unseasonable. The progress
which Convocation has made in England during the
last few years has inspired the High-Church clergy
with considerable hope, and others with a certain
extent of misfrust. It is, at any rate, a grave fact,
that the ancient parliament of the Church of England
has been frying, under the auspices of a liberal minis
try — that of Lord Palmerston — to resuscitate itself,
and to regain some portion of its long-lost authority.
These assemblies are not the only ones that bear
witness to the movement in religious ideas. In a
counfry where an unlimited right prevails both of
meeting and discussion, various liberal associations
have laid themselves out to hold certain congresses,
svhich' have taken place, sometimes in one place.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 135
sometimes in another. Thus, the scientific congress
sat a year or two back at Bath; and the one for
social science, not long ago, invaded the manufac
turing population of Sheffield. Why should not the
clergy take advantage of the same privilege ? There
has been, in fact, a Church Congress set on foot for
some time past, which met in 1862 at Oxford, in
1863 at Manchester, and in 1864 at Bristol. In
the year in which I am writing (1865), Norwich
has been selected for the place of meeting, — an an
cient city built on the summit of a hiU, crowned
by the cathedral and an old castle. These numer
ously attended meetings make a sudden alteration
in the appearance of a town, for they bring in their
train a complete crowd of illustrious visitors, and it
is curious to see the eagerness that is shown to re
ceive them suitably. The mayor opens his recep
tion-rooms, the hotels are fUled with the curious,
and even private houses claim a share in the honour
of worthily exercising the rites of hospitality. What
a commotion and what a display there is ! Never
were there seen at once in the old sfreets of Nor
wich so many bishops, deans, canons, and other
clerical dignitaries; and yet this cify is not unac
customed to reUgious pomp, for in it stands the
monastery of Brother Ignatius, who has been pretty
weU talked about latterly in England.*
* As head of a new order of Benedictines, Brother Ignatius
has endeavoured to renew, under the mantle of Protestantism,

136 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
All executive committee is meantime busied in
choosing the various subjects which are to be dealt
with in the Congress, and in specifying the speakers
who are to address the meetings. It avoids bring
ing into the programme any doctrinal questions; so
as to bring together, as on a neufral ground, the
two or perhaps three parties into which the clergy-
are divided. The aim of these meetings is essen
tially practical ; they do not turn thefr minds to con
sider what is necessary for the Church to believe, but
what is necessary for her to do. At last the Con
gress is opened in one of the large rooms of the
city. Most of the stars among the clergy, to what
ever order of rank they belong, may be found as
sembled there. On this occasion might have been
remarked at Norwick the Archbishop of York ;* the
Bishop of Oxford ;f Dr. Harvey Goodwin, Dean of

what is called in England the mummeries of the Middle Ages,
such as processions in the streets, the worship of the divine
Bambino, the use of incense in churches, &c.
* Dr. William Thompson, Archbishop of York, was educated
at Shrewsbury School and at Queen's College, Oxford, was seve
ral, times nominated select preacher at Oxford, and afterwards
preacher at Lincoln's Inn, and obtained great success in the pul
pit. In 1861 he was consecrated Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol,
and subsequently, in 1863, obtained the arohiepiscopal see of
York, the income of which amounts to 12,0OOZ. a year. As an
author he is principally Imown by a logical work entitled Out-
li7ies of Tliought.
f Dr. Samuel Wilberforce, born iu 1805. His principal works
are Agathos, liucliaristioa. History of the American Clucreh, and
Tlie Rochy Island. As Bishop of Oxford (1845) he is, by right,.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 137
Ely, whose talents and energy of character even his
adversaries admire ; Dr. Afford, Dean of Canterbury,
one of the most learned men, and one of the most
eloquent preachers, in the Church of England ; Dr.
Pusey, who has attached his name to a new form
of Protestantism ; and many other divines whose pre
sence or concurrence would shed a lustre on any
assembly. The Congress, besides, thinks right to strengthen
itself by admitting a certain number of the laity to
join in these discussions on the affairs of the Church.
Addresses and lectures foUow one another for several
days, embracing a variety of subjects, the importance
of which can scarcely be denied, which are debated
by different speakers of opposite opiiiions. These
Church congresses have no actual legislative power ;
but they serve to instil new ideas into the clerical
mind, and sow the seeds of reforms which may one
day ripen, when fertilised by the light of public
opinion. FoUowing the invariable Enghsh custom,
these meetings terminate with a grand banquet, to
which a very large number of guests are invited by
the mayor or some other rich personage in the town.
There is one obstacle which constantly opposes
itself to the development of Convocation and even of

Chancellor of the Order of the Garter. The Queen has besides
nominated him Lord High Almoner. He occupies a most eminent
position as an orator, both in the House of Lords and also in the
pulpit and at public meetings.

138 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
ecclesiastical congresses ; this obstacle is the docfrinal
division in the Church. We must not lose sight of
the fact that the English clergy are divided into High
Church and Low Church, This distinction can be
traced back, we have every reason to believe, to a
very remote antiquity. It existed in germ even at
the time when England was stiU CathoUc; but the
Reformation ffrst gave it any social or pohtical im
portance. The High Church is that which, in the
period fi'om Henry VIII. to William IIL, was al
ways allied to the royal authority and the episcopal
hierarchy. The Low Church, on the contrary, takes
its root from the sects of Puritans. We know how
great were the efforts of these ffrst and obscure re
formers to propagate the Bible ; and in the progress
of time, from those barns and lofts, where a few
humble votaries assembled for worship at the peril
of their lives, came forth triumphantiy the ascend
ancy of their party and the supremacy of CromweU.
The Restoration, in its turn, expelled from the
Church its Puritan element, and drove it back into
obscurity. This, then, was the state of things when
WiUiam III. disembarked in England.
It was at this period that the name oiHigh Church
was first given to the priests who were Nonjurors,
who refused to acknowledge the right of the Prince
of Orange to the throne of Great Britain, under the
pretext that James II. , although dethroned, was stiU
their legitimate sovereign. This appeUation oi High

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 139
Church appUed to the high idea which these ecclesi
astics formed of the digruty of the Church and of
the extent of its prerogatives. Those, on the other
hand, who disapproved of the obstinacy of their bre
thren, being weU known for thefr moderation towards
Dissenters, and for the more humble ideas they had
formed as to the authorify of the Church, were ranked
in what was caUed, by antithesis, the Low Church,
The sympathies of the Prince of Orange could not
for an instant be in doubt between these two religious
parties. He opened the flood-gates to Puritanism,
and received into the bosom of the Established Church
those whom his predecessors had set aside. When
ever he superseded a bishop or any other ecclesias
tical dignitary who proved rebeUious to his oath of
allegiance, he purposely replaced him by one of the
Low-Church party; and thus it happened, that an
element, at first so feeble in the clerical body, ac
quired, during the reign of WiUiam III., a certain
degree of preponderance. Since that time, the two
parties have continued to live side by side under the
same authority ; but how many old grievances have
been again ripped up ! The question seemed to be,
who could caU up the most vividly the phantoms
of past hostiUties : on one side, the execution of
Charles I. and the expulsion of the Stuarts ; and on
the other side, aU the reactionary laws under which
they suffered during the reign of Charles II. The
latter felt that they were emphaticaUy the children

140 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
of persecution ; and was it likely that they would
refrain from hurling at their opponents the epithet
Papist"?* Politics also foUowed up religion pretfy
closely; thus the High-Church party were almost
aU Tories, and the Low-Church clergy invariably took
the side of the Whigs.
The progress of time has somewhat softened down
these divisions ; but still they are far from being ex
tinct. The Low Church certainly does not now sfyle
the High Church the " Harlot of Babylon ;" but for
aU this, are- they any more reconciled in Christian
love? Truly, I fear not. They are Uke two un
loving sisters, endeavouring to hide thefr former
rivalries under a certain reserve of language and con
duct. Whenever the High Church wishes to hide
its light under a bushel, the Low Church purposely
holds back. If convocation is the matter in hand.
Low Churchmen wiU ask how a pro^dncial assembly,
as that of Canterbury or York, can embrace the
whole religious interests of the kingdom, and why
a convocation is not summoned of the whole Chm'ch ;
and whether a synod, constituted in this way, does
not form a body representing rather the bishops and
chapters than the clergy generaUy. In order to
* Walter Scott, in his lAfe of Dryden, rightly calls attention
to the fact, that the High-Church party, towards the end of the
reign of Charles II., had the same interests to defend as the
Catholics ; they were both dravm together by a common hatred
of the various Puritan sects, and by a common attachment to the
Stuart family.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 141
answer this last objection, the province of Canter
bury thought it best to extend their electoral suf
frage; an enemy, they considered, is often more
dangerous outside than inside a house. They wished,
therefore, to afford to the Low-Church parfy the op
portunity of admission to this council, and of express
ing their views with fuU liberty. WiU they, however,
respond to this appeal ? This .stiU remains a question.
For one thing, the minority that they would form on
the benches of Convocation would be far from a cor
rect indication of the real power of the pftrty.
With regard to the Church Congress, some of
the Low-Church clergy were present and took a cer
tain part in the proceedings ; but it seemed rather in
obedience to a sense of dufy, than from any enthu
siasm in the matter. It is in vain that they have
set aside, at these meetings, aU disputed questions on
dogmatical subjects, and have substituted practical
questions in thefr place ; for the Low- Church parfy
fear an energetic course of action on the part of
thefr opponents quite as much as they dread their
doctrine. Thus it is that the EngUsh clergy find in
themselves, that is in their di-visions, a barrier set
up, which much limits their meaiis of influence.
In each of these two parties ui England some
remarkable men are numbered, and each of them
has latterly had its period of revival. The revival
of the Low-Church party took place at the end of
the last and at the beginning of the present cen-

142 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
tury: at the head of the movement were found,
among others, Cowper the poet, Wilberforce, father
of the present Bishop of Oxford, and Macaulay,
father of the historian. The revival in the High-
Church party became noticeable from 1830 to 1845 :
the chief agents in it were Dr. Pusey, the fervent
preacher Newman, since become a Roman Catholic,
and the " poet-priest" Keble. Their docfrines have
certainly made way in England during the last few
years, but they have not secured the sympathy of
the masses generaUy. The Low-Church parfy is, if
not the most numerous, at least the most popular,
and the favours of a liberal government more gene
raUy have a leaning towards this religious section.
What, then, are the essential points which form
the ground of difference between these two classes
of religious opinion ? High Churchmen reproach the
other parfy with the narrowness of their -views, thefr
anomalous Calvinism, and thefr comparative inaction
in the midst of society. "Instead of quietiy sitting
down," they urge, " amid the decay of the Church,
and weeping over the errors of the times, why do not
you exert yourselves, and endeavour to improve the
age in which you Uve ?"
Low Churchmen, on the other hand, impute to
their opponents, that they yield, according to their
tastes, to two very opposite tendencies, one leaning
towards Romanism, the other towards Rationalism.
Tlie truth is, that High Churchmen admit, as a

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 143
•
scarcely secondary authority, the validify of tradi
tion, as represented by the Fathers and (Ecumeni
cal CouncUs; whUst Low Churchmen recognise the
authorify "of the Holy Scriptures only. The former
place high importance on the ecclesiastical hierarchy,
on sacraments, rites, rubrics, and ceremonies; the
latter care but little for all these things, and give
thefr principal attention to the cultivation of preach
ing. Cranmer, wishing to conciUate these two par
ties, composed the Book of Common Prayer in the
reign of Edward VI., which book, with some slight
alterations infroduced in the times of Elizabeth and
James I., stUl forms at the present day the bond of
union in the Church of England. The two parties,
however, both interpret it in thefr own way.
Where the antagonism of the two Unes of doe-
frine is more -\dsibly evident is in church architec
ture. The successors of the old Puritans look upon
a church more as a place for preaching than as a
house of prayer ; everything, therefore, must be
sacrificed to the pulpit and to the placing of the
audience. High Churchmen, on the contrary, seek
to give to their edifices a character of grandeur and
beaufy. According to the general opinion in Eng
land, the taste for ornamentation has been carried
rather too far in some cases; images, processions,
Ughts, and flowers, are all foreign innovations, which
have much scandaUsed Protestants of the good old
sort. Certain doubtftU practices — confession re-

144 RELIGIOUS LIFE IF ENGLAND.
-
established under another form ; monastic houses both
for men and women, founded under the auspices of
the reformed faith, — all these things have excited
a cry of alarm against the Sacerdotalists and Traota
rians,* Whither are they going? Is it not mere
Romanism, which, under another name, is seeking
to again entangle Great Britain in her snares ? The
echo of these complaints made its way at last even
to the ears of the House of Commons. The danger
was, no doubt, much exaggerated ; the chief agents
in the movement energetically disavowed the inten
tions which were atfributed to them; but the ani
mosity on both sides has only increased, and pubhc
opinion has looked to the Low-Church parfy to form
a rampart, against the real or imaginary progress of
a foreign style of worship.
Tliose High Churchmen who, by their published
or well-known opinions, defy the suspicion of idola-
fry, do not always escape the imputation of uifideUfy,
which is the name given here to every shade of
rationalism. Under the equally sfrange epithet of
Latitudinarians the Low-Chm'ch organs foUow up
with thefr attacks those divines whose opinions ap
pear to the former to spread beyond the Umits of
* The epithet Sacerdotalist is naturally applied to an ally of
the priest {gacerdos), the importance and privileges of whose of&ce
the Puseyites are accused of exaggerating. As to the term Trae-
tarian, it arose from the Tracts for tlie Times ; a kind of col
lective publication, to which Dr. Pusey, Newman, and Keble were
the principal contributors.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 145
orthodoxy. For it must be observed, that this inde
pendence of outward signs, and simplicity of public
worship, which more or less distinguish Low Church
men, does not always represent any great extent of
rhordl Uberty. Their minds very often emancipate
themselves from the confrol of ecclesiastical formu^
laries only to succumb to the very letter of a book,
or to some tenet as painful as that of predestination.
Between these two parties a third has been formed,
which, under the name of the Broad Church, turns
its attention especiaUy to the way in which the Scrip
tures should be looked at. AU the various sections of
the Anglican clergy profess to beUeve in the Inspira
tion of the Bible ; but what are we to understand by
these words ? Some wiU have it that this book was
¦written as well as dictated by supernatural influence ;
in this case the Hebrew authors would have been the
passive vehicles of words and ideas which were in no
measure their own, — the frumpet, as it were, through
which the Hofy Spirit breathed out its revelation.
Otiiers (and this is the ground taken by the Broad
Church) regard the Scriptures as the result of divine
inspiration humanly recorded; But in admitting the
participation of man, do we not also admit the pos-
SibiUfy of error? This designation oi Broad Church
Was ffrst given by the Edinburgh Review to a party
among the clergy, the founder of which appears to
have been the celebrated Dr. Arnold. The chief men
of this school are at the present time Dr. Milman and
L

146 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Dr. Stanley : the former Dean of St. Paul's, and the
latter of Westminster.
Some recent pubUcations have very much ex
tended the limits of this movement. Let us, how
ever, hear what can be said in their own defence by
those who adhere in every way, to the free interpreta
tion of Scripture. " It is a book which philosophers
in every age have admired, on which, not only our
Church, but a great portion of the social edifice in
England, is based. Take care ! for the moment that
this base gives way, that moment wUl the whole
framework of religion, and a portion of our ci-vU
institutions also, faU in ruin. And how can it fail to
give way, undermined as it is from day to day by
the progress of science and historical criticism ? , The
worst service that you can render in such a case to
the book you set yourselves up to defend, is to place
it on the high ground of infalUbUify. The slightest
geological, chronological, or topographical error must
destroy aU faith in that Uteral divine inspiration
which you try to enforce. We must either maintain
that science is mistaken, or we must accuse the sun,
which dares to be immovable, and the earth, which
dares to revolve, and say to aU nature. Thou hast lied !
Have more -wisdom; act like, the Deluge, and abandon
to error that which belongs to error ; and at least save-
out of the Bible that type of high moralify which is
still appropriate to a Christian community."
These attacks, proceeding as they do from the

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 147
very bosom of the clergy, have been a heavy blow
to the Church of England. It would be a mistake,
however, to suppose that the event was unexpected.
In 1861, Dr. Temple,* being appointed by the Uni-
versify to preach before the British Association of
Science when they met at Oxford, delivered a sermon
which subsequentiy appeared at the beginning of the
Celebrated pubhcation caUed- Essays and Reviews, VLader
the title of the Education of the World, The somewhat
menacing air of the preacher, the bold chaUenge which
he threw do-wn to his colleagues, the uneasiness of his
audience, — all betokened the coming storm. Twice
the thunderbolt feU ; for after the Essays and Reviews
came Bishop Colenso's work on the Books attributed
to Moses. It would perhaps be scarcely believed in
France, that these acts of hostility, directed as they
were against the infaUibility of the Bible, made less
impression on the Church of England than they did
on some of the dissenting sects. These latter believe,
for the most part, in the verbal inspiration of Scrip
ture ; this has ever been one of their characteristic
tenets, and the very foundation of their worship,
which even across the Channel has acqufred the
epithet of bibliolatry. It was, therefore, in this quar
ter especiaUy that the most lively and painftd impres
sion was made.
The Church of England, however, did not delay

Head Master of Eugby School.

148 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
with her reply.* According to- her -views, the di-vi-'
nity of these writers is entfrely negative ; they have
told us what they do not believe, but they have left
us in the dark as to the nature of their positive faith.
People are looking to them for a doctrine and a de
finite result; and as long as they keep silence on this
head, and stiU retain their positions in the Church, so
long will thefr opposition obtain but slender moral
authority. Perhaps it would have been better to have
held fast to this argument ; but proceedings had been
afready entered upon. After various turns of foitune,
the accused authors were finaUy acquitted by the
Pri-\y Council, the tribunal of last resort in England in
such cases. Who, therefore, can fail to perceive that
the Church has no means of pmiishing any opinions
she may disapprove of, either by her own institutions
or by the help of the State ? The lay element taking,
at this point, a share in the religion of the State, is
unwiUing tore-inaugurate an era of persecution; and
in this view it is upheld by a considerable number of
the clergy. Toleration, in the Church of England, is
neither the result of enlightenment, nor yet an effort
of Christian charify; it is the condition of its exist
ence. Liberty was one of the results achieved by the
Reformation, and such achievements impose thefr
* These answers may be read in a collective work entitled
Aids to Faith. There has also been publishing, since 1860, under
the patronage of the Speaker of the House of Commons, a Com
mentary on the Bible, at which some of the most . eminent of the
clergy have been working.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 149
obligations. The Protestant martyi's are appealed to,
and the memory of the divines burnt in the wood-
pUes in Smithfield is invoked, when the more or less
latitudinary members of the clergy claim the right of.
thinking for themselves. And who would venture to
stifle this voice ? Not those, at least, who, in matters
of religious faith, prefer differences with liberfy to
uniformity with bondage.
The eternity of punishment is a dogma which has
lately much occupied the attention of some of the
bold minds in the Church of England. At their head
is the Rev. F. Maurice, who has been the means of
conferring many benefits on the working classes.*
He does not believe in a Christian hell; but what
testimony does he bring forward on which to base
his opinion ? Curious to say, the authorify of a poet
whose name is no favourite in devout ears. Reading
the Giaour, he says, taught him more on this subject
than aU the threats thmidered from the pulpit. Byron
there speaks of one of those moments which
" gather in that drop of time
A life of pain, an age of crime :
Though in Time's record nearly nought,
It was Eternity to Thought."

* Professor of Divinity at King's College in 1846, he was
compelled to quit this post in consequence of the hostility excited
by his religious opinions. He is now Incumbent of St. Peter's,
Marylebone. We are indebted to him for the foundation of the
Working Men and Women's Colleges — admirable institutions for
the education of the adult working classes.

160 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
And it is in this sense that the learned divine explains
the mysteries of another Ufe. " The Infinite," as
Byron goes on to say,
" Which in itself can comprehend
Woe without name, or hope, or end,"
— aU this is included in the lightning-flash of thought
which conscience renders so terrible. In short, the
soul of man is so constituted that it can embrace aU .
suffering in an eternal moment. We are certainly
led in this very far from the material torments of a
Gehenna of fire. Thanks to the toleration and elas
ticity of doctrine which, after aU, characterises the
Church of England, Mr. Maurice has been able to
hold his place on the exfreme limits of orthodoxy.
A portion of the clergy, however, have lately
become startled at this free inquiry after truth.
Finding neither in the civil law nor in ecclesiastical
discipline any means whatever to touch certain doubts
hidden behind official positions, they formed the idea
of trying to bind the conscience more closely to the
creed of the Estabhshed Church ; thence have arisen
the efforts in the Convocation of Canterbury to make
their faith a point of honour with young ministers.
Evidently they had a right to act thus : but it is asked
if this be the proper remedy for the evil. Resfrictive
measures may cause hypocrisy ; but wiU they insure
belief? Listen, for instance, to the public confession of
certain clergymen who have opposed this very dogma
of the eternity of punishment : "They have beheved

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 151
in it," they wiU teU you, " for some time ; but a day
came when they threw off, as if in spite of them
selves, this hideous dream of their youth,' the night
mare of an unpitying God ; the world then seemed
brightened for them, as if by a new light — by a ray
of love which, even in the punishment of the wicked,
seemed to point out heavenly traits of goodness." The
Church of England is infected, it must be weU under
stood, with the malady of the age, even in its high
places {oriens ex alto). But we must not conclude
from this, that religious feeling is weakened in Eng
land. Where, on the contrary, shaU we find a clergy
more devoted to their duties, and a more believing
people? And how does this come to pass? It is
thus : those forms of religion which number among
them the fewest unbelievers are precisely those which
demand the fewest sacrifices of reason and liberfy of
conscience ; this is, doubtless, the true answer to the
apparent contradiction which we have just pointed
out. The EngUsh clergy being in such close relation
to the State, it is important to inquire the natm-e of
the influence they exercise in it.* In order to do
this, we must take account of the very origin of the
Reformation. Among all the obstacles which oppose

* This must be understood as applying to i/ndwrect influence
only, for clergymen are prohibited from sitting in the House of
Commons. Up to the month of February 1865 they could not
even practise at the Bar.

152 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
themselves to the establishment of poUtieal liberfy in
any nation, the gravest and most difficult to upset is
the subjugation of the inteUect to certain religious.
dogmas. In the great moral revolution of the 16th
century, in which the English clergy took so distin
guished a part, divines laid it down as one of thefr
chief aims to emancipate the feeling of self-independ
ence. AU free rights have the property of develop
ing others ; and who doubts, at the present day, that
the prevaUing respect for indi-vddual liberty, among
om' neighbours across sea, was one of the achieve
ments of Protestantism ? The very same principle of
inquiry which laid bare the foundations of religious
beUef brought its lights to bear on the examination
and discussion of the ffrst principles of ci-vU govern
ment- It was soon discovered that the roots of
despotism lay hid in a sort of haUowed ignorance, but
that they had no foundation on any divine authorify.
Tims it is that the Enghsh constitution has, without
difficulfy, been able to form a close alliance with the
religious order. The latter, in a certain sense, sanc
tifies the State, without either cramping or confra-.
dieting it. It was weU said, that " the union of Church
and State was never intended to make the Church
political, but to make the State religious."
The English clergy, taken as a body, are Conser
vative ; but we must not confine this word to the
narrow sense in which it is used in other countries.
Protecting the institutions of England involves, with-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 163
out doubt, the perpetuation of certain privileges, but,
at the same time, defends political rights and liber
ties. This common tendency in the Church generally
in no way binds the opinions of its individual minis
ters. Whilst the Northern States of America were
carrying on that heroic contest against the South, the
very echo of which made the blood run quicker in
the veins of old Europe, some English clergymen
loudly declared their -views against slavery, and offered
public prayers for the success of the Federal cause.
Among the Liberals in the English clergy, I might
instance Dr. Hook, Dean of Chichester,* and many
others, who readily lend their aid to the reforms re
quired by the present state of society. At the time
when the election of Stuart Mill for Westminster was,
perhaps, rather threatened by unjust imputations of
atheism, it was from the University of Oxford — that
great centre of orthodoxy — that numerous eloquent
voices were raised to defend the iUustrious thinker
against the attacks of the Record,^ One fact only
may seem to give the lie to this enhghtened liberalism
of the clergy ; it is, the last election at this very Uni
versity of Oxford. And yet, if I am rightly informed.

* Author of an excellent pamphlet, entitled On the Means
of rendering miore efficient the Education of tlie People, which
attracted public attention by the boldness of its -views and the
independence of its talent.
f Organ of the Low Church party, just as the Guardian is of
the High Church, and the Nonconformist of the Dissenters.

154 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Mr. Gladstone's candidature would not have been
unsuccessful, if it had depended on the votes of the
learned professors and others connected -with the
University ; but he had as his -victorious opponents
the other members of the body, who, scattered aU
over England, mostly occupy country livings. These
latter are more accessible to prejudice and the local
influence of aristocracy, and also more suspicious than
the others are of the impulses of the age.
It is, however, frue that Tory principles are wont
to rely upon the Church as one of the piUars of the
State. Some clergymen blame even Mr. DisraeU for
having torn aside the veil of the temple with too bold
a hand, and having too readily exhibited the use made
of religion as an aid to government, for he thus com
promises that which he would wish to serve. Among
this confusion of duties and powers, a parfy has lately.
arisen in England which has made itself kno-wn under
the name of the Liberation Society, The leaders of
this party — and there are some eminent men among
them — wish, on the contrary, to relax the bonds
which miite Church and State. It is difficult to fore
tell what fortune may be reserved in the future for
these attempts; but at the present day, the real au
thority of the Church of England is based more
on beUef than on law ; as long as she keeps on her
side the sympathies of enlightened intellect, and re
spects the liberty of opinion, so long also will she
be able to defy every tempest.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 155
For some years past the clergy have been much
engrossed in trying to draw the working classes into
their churches. Have these efforts, however, been
crowned with much success, at least in large towns ?
Most assuredly not; and they have stiU to seek out
the causes for . an absence which they so rightly de
plore. Dr. Pusey attributes the absence of the work
ing classes from public worship to the old system
which still rules in the internal arrangement of
Protestant churches. The seats are let by the year,
or occupied, in right of seniority, by parishioners of
the upper, or at least the middle classes. In both
cases the poor stand but a bad chance. " Is this,"
cries Dr. Pusey, "what one has a right to expect
from a religion which proclaims the equality of all in
the presence of a common Father?" The eloquent
professor goes stUl farther, and cites facts. Some
years ago a church was pro-vdded with pews only, and
these pews were always empty ; they were done away
with, open free seats being substituted for them,
under the same clergyman the same church was then
fiUed from one end to the other. This experiment
appears decisive ; and yet is it quite certain that the
arrangement of the seats is the only cause which drives
away from the churches the most numerous class in
England? There is room for doubt on this point.
On Sundays, persons in easy circumstances delight to
display with a certain emulation all their best attire ;
how would it look for the poor to come there and

156 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
expose their rags? This objection has appeared so
serious a one, that the idea was started in 1850 to
establish in London ragged churches, on the same plan
as the ragged schools which already existed ; but there
was something migracious in the epithet itself, which
prevented this attempt from meeting with success.
The truth always remains the same, that, in the
very edifices where the voice of the Gospel is so loudly
raised against the worship of Mammon, the hum
ble city workman feels himself oppressed under the
weight of an entire social system that appears to him
to be in direct contradiction of the words of the
great Master. AU in vain have they softened down
the sense of certain texts ; in vain, thanks to a miracle
of scholastic subtlety, have they succeeded in passing
the camel through the needle's eye; but the question
is still misolved, how we can reconcile the excessive
distinction of ranks with the spirit of a book which
preaches self-denial and humiUty in all. The Refor
mation desired to bring the priest nearer to the people,
in order to bring men nearer to God ; but birth, edu
cation, and fortune stiU create a gulf between the
Protestant minister and the most humble portion of
his congregation. As to the bishop, he is too great a
man, and is too far removed fi'om the people, to exer
cise any very lively influence over them. And then
also, behind this ecclesiastical hierarchy, there is a
civil hierarchy as weU, forming a double Jacob's
ladder, very high and very formidable to him who

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 157
is on earth. ' Poverty acts as a means of isolation, and
this isolation seeiris still increased amid the gilded
crowd which frequent many of the churches. We
have sufficient reasons here to explain why it is that
a large portion of the working classes either entirely
refrain from taking any part in public worship, or
else, on Sundays, attend the chapels of some of the
Dissenting denominations.

CHAPTER VL
The Dissenting denominations — Their origin and cause — The In
dependents — Eeligious persecutions — Heretics judged and con
demned by heretics — Chief tenets of the Congregationalists —
One of their chapels — The Baptists — Mr. Spurgeon and his
Tabernacle — Baptism of adults — The Society of Friends, or
Quakers — Simplicity of their worship — Character of Quakers
— Quakerism is decreasing, and why? — Methodists — John Wes
ley — Class meetings — Itinerant preachers — Ministry of women
— The New Church — Swedenborg — How his doctrines came to
be introduced into England — Unitarians — Their way of look
ing at Christianity — Open-air preachers — The prophetess in
terrupted by a donkey — Eespeot paid to liberty of speech
— The Evangelical Alliance — One of the glories of Protes
tantism.
The great point of difference between the Estabhshed
Church and the thirty-six Christian sects existing in
England consists in this — that, on one side, the reli
gious revolution took place by means of the govern
ment ; on the other, through the people. Amid the
disturbance of aU the ancient tenets, the Anglican
Church adhered to the old principle of authority. The
Dissenters, on the confrary, persisted in considering
the king as a kind of shadow of the Pope, and laid
claim to the principle of self-government in matters of
faith. The State religion for some time looked upon
it as its duty to oppose these tendencies, which were

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 159
 m 
CaUed anarchical. In 1559 the Act of Uniformity
visited with severe punishment all those who absented
thernselves, without reasonable cause, from the places
of pubUc worship recognised by law. The objects of
persecution of yesterday became in thefr turn per
secutors also ; and this is the. way of the world.
Towards the; end of the 16th century, however,
the Presbyterians .in . Scotland, and the Independents
in England, began ¦ to, spring up, their growth being
developed by the free interpretation of Scripture, and
the. right of inquiry. The head of the latter party
appears to have been Robert Brown, of an ancient
famUy, and related to. Burleigh, the, Lord Treasurer.
He was an enthusiastic and impetuous being, going
about- preaching from town to town, principally in
the county of Norfolk, After staying three years in
Zealand, where he founded an Independent church,
he, returned to England (1585). He was confined
thfrty-two times in various prisons on account of his
reUgious opinions ; but as the climax to his zeal and
his exertions, he ended by submitting to the Esta
blished Church, and obtained- as his recompense the
rectory ofOundle, in Northamptonshire. The defec
tion of thefr chief did not, however, paralyse his dis
ciples ; for in 1593, Sir Walter Raleigh estimated the
number of the Brownists (the name then given to
these sectaries) at 20,000, without counting, he adds,
the women and children. They, were .treated with
much .harshness, and in the reign of Ehzabeth many

160 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
 _• 
of them passed under the hands of the executioner.
This persecution dispersed the members of the sect,
and drove many of them away into the Low Coun
tries, where they founded various churches, at Am- .
sterdam, Rotterdam, and Leyden. One of the exiles,
however, returned to London about 1616, and esta
blished a chapel in the very heart of that cify. During
the time that the Long Parliament remained in power
the sect gained ground, and when CromweU (who was
himself an Independent) seized the supreme autho
rity, he made the great principle of the Uberty of
religious opinions a weU-recognised reality. From
Charles IL to William III. the community of Dis
senters had, indeed, to suffer much ; but at the epoch
of the Revolution they appeared again, hardened and
invigorated by their scars, as Bossuet remarks. In
the present day the Independents form one of the
great branches of English Protestantism. Under the
more modern name of Congregationalists, they yield
to no other sect either in nuniber or social import
ance. What, however, are thefr distinguishing ideas?
In the first place, they refuse to admit the principle
of a national church ; with them the word church
means simply a congregation, and they consider that
Christians ought to be free to associate themselves
together for religious purposes as they think proper,
and in such a way that every individual may be able
to judge and approve aU that is done by the commu-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 161
 » 
nity. Under this system, an individual always re
mains the dictator of his o-wn belief, and aU that he
seeks in a union with other men is a tie which is ne
cessary to give force and consistence to their personal
feelings. As regards religious orders, the Independ
ents recognise two classes only of officials, — ^bishops
and deacons. But it must be remarked, that by the
term bishops ministers or pastors are simply meant*
The latter have no need for any special ordination ;
it suffices that they should be called by some con
gregation, in order to give them a right to preach
and administer the sacraments. The usage, however,
generally is, that the newly-chosen minister should
be inaugm'ated by some of his brother pastors in a
special service, in the com'se of which he makes,
before his future congregation, a sort of profession of
faith. In the choice of a pastor, each church is pos
sessed of a perfect autonomy, and finds itself bound
by no conditions either as to the class or mode of
education of their ftiture minister ; any person who
appears to them to be fit is henceforth to assume the
functions of thefr pastor. This principle almost al
ways undergoes some modifications in practice ; as it
is found to be advantageous that the mimsters should '
be educated men, most of them, at the present day,

* In their idea, the two words, episcopus a,nA. po'csiyter, so often
met vrith in the history of the primitive Church, specify one and
the same person. M

162 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
receive some preliminary education in one of the
numerous theological academies or coUeges belonging
to the denomination.
The right of preaching in reUgious meetings
forms by no means any exclusive privilege ; on the
confrary, any one who possesses the gift is encouraged
to occasionaUy exhort the congregation ; thus, in fact
every man is a priest. The Independents refuse to
Government any right of intervention in their reli
gious matters, and make a point of themselves sup
porting the expenses of worship. A sort of voluntary
council, composed of delegates, arid kno-wn under the
name of the Congregational Union of England and
Wales, meets twice every year to organise a system
of mutual action, without, at the same time, in any
way prejudicing the principle of the initiative being
taken locaUy. This frail tie suffices to maintain unify;
and in spite of the fluctuating character of the system
generaUy, no important fraction has ever, since thefr
origin, become detached from the main body.
One Sunday evening I went into a chapel situated
in the Borough-road, in London. The interior of the
edifice was white and naked, but briUiantiy lighted
with gas; the seats converged in the form of an
amphitheafre round the pulpit, in which stood a
minister dressed as a civilian, only in black. After
the service was over, every one seemed to meditate ;
and several speakers of both sexes got up, one after
the other, just as they felt inspired, to offer up to God

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 168

a kind of spontaneous address. The gravity of the
audience, the dead silence broken every now and then
by these loud apostrophes, the animated fervour of the
women who spoke, thefr faces glo-wing with energy
under their veils, the bright light from above ; — all
this, in spite of the singularity of the scene, had in it
an element that was both solemn and affecting; I
myself felt moved. What a sfrange country is this,
at once both practical and mystic, where, even amid
the dense atmosphere of material interests, and almost
without any external forms of worship, one can feel
with an inward thriU that a ray of divine light from
an invisible spfrit-world is passing into the soul !
One of the most ancient sects, after the Inde
pendents, and also one of the most numerous, is that
of the Baptists, originating, no doubt, from the old
Anabaptists. Their rise in England goes back as far
as 1608, the epoch when thefr first place of worship
was established in London. This denomination con-
, siders Baptism as a simple profession of faith on the
part of him who receives it ; and they maintain that
this declaration cannot be made by children of
tender age, not yet enjoying the use of thefr reason
ing faculties ; nor do they aUow that it can be made
for them by godfathers or godmothers, having no
right whatever to pledge for the future the con
science of the new-born chUd. They therefore ad-
, mit to this rite adults only. And this is not thefr
only pecuUarify. It appears to them, that the mode

164 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
in which baptism is administered in other Churches
is in no way in harmony with the custom of the
primitive Christians. The actual meaning of the
Greek word, the authorify of TertulUan and Gregory
of Nazianzen, the traditions among the Vaudois and
the Albigenses — all this, and a great deal more, they
cite in their favour. According to them, the out-
wai'd sign in baptism does not consist in merely
pouring water upon the head, but in the total im
mersion of the whole body in a kind of bath. A
certain English minister has lately conferred no
small distinction on the Baptist community.
Mr. Spurgeon's Tabernacle,* an edifice of Grecian

=* Mr. Spurgeon was bom at Kelvedon, Essex, in 1834, and first
studied in the town of Colchester. Some of the members of his
family were Independents, and they endeavoured to induce him
to enter one of the colleges belonging to this denomination, in
order to study divinity, and thus prepare for the ministry ; but
his religious ideas leaned rather towards the Baptists. He there
fore joined a congregation of this sect at Cambridge, presided over
by the Rev. Robert Hall. At the age of seventeen he preached his
first sermon in the village of Feversham, near Cambridge, and was
soon well known under the name of "tlie boy preacher." Notlong
after, he was called to fulfil the duties of pastor at a little chapel
at Waterbeaoh. He went there ; and this chapel — a mere barn 
was soon filled -with hea,rers, whilst a crowd outside were content
with merely hearing the sound of his voice. His reputation spread
as far as London ; and New Park-street chapel in Southwark, where
the pulpit had been pre-viously filled by Dr. Rippon, claimed the
services of the young prodigy. In 1853 Mr. Spurgeon appeared for
the first time before a London public : his success was immense.
Two years had hardly elapsed before it became necessary to en
large the chapel. When the alterations were finished, the building

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 165
architecture, with Corinthian columns, is a striking
object in the Kennington-road. From the appear
ance of the exterior, one would think it was a
theatre ; and to complete the resemblance, a compact
crowd forms a queue at the doors every Sunday
evening, first in front of the iron raUing protecting
the stone-work, and then under the portico. At
last, at half-past six, the doors open ; every one rushes
in, and at least three quarters of the space is found
already fiUed up by the seat-holders and other privi
leged persons. This system of privilege in seats,
and partial exclusion of the general public, so op
posed by many members of the High Church, is
kept up with exfreme strictness in chapels generally.
Dissenting ministers ha-v^e certainly very Uttie in
ducement to abolish it, for it forms to some extent
thefr means of livelihood. In a material point of
view, which in this case can hardly be said to differ
much from the religious aspect, the erection of
buildings Uke this sometimes turns out an exceUent
pecuniary speculation.
The interior exactly resembles a concert-haU : it
contains a pit and two tiers of gaUeries, one over the
other, round which rows of lights run, whilst jets

was still found too small for the congregation. After having for
some time preached, on the Sunday, in some of the largest concert-
halls in London, Mr. Spurgeon collected subscriptions to erect
another immense place of worship, which he himself styled the
Tabernacle.

166 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
of gas encircle the capitals of the columns supporting
the roof, and surmount them Uke a crown of fire ; no
reUgious symbol, however, unless you consider as
such the dial of a clock, intended no doubt to remind
Christians of the rapid flight of time. At seven
o'clock Mr. Spurgeon made his appearance on a
balcony, or platform surrounded -with a balusfrade.
He was clothed in black, and wore a white cravat.
The most profomid silence reigned amid the three or
four thousand attentive hearers who fiUed the vast
haU, even now too smaU for the reputation of the
preacher. A short reading out of the Bible, one or
two hymns, and a prayer — such were the preUmi-
naries to the sermon. Mr. Spurgeon has much that
belongs to the actor both in his face, voice, and
gestures ; he is by turns grave or comic, faUing
sometimes from the sublime to what is grotesque
and trivial — " sometimes Ezekielj and sometimes
Scaramouch;" still he has undoubtedly founded in
England a new school of sacred eloquence. Other
preachers fry to imitate him, but -with very Uttie
success. They want the vigorous and pure enun
ciation, which confrols and sways at its wiU the im
petuous passions of the crowd ; that pungent energy
which gives to religious controversy aU the interest
of a debating club ; and, above all, that art which
fascinates the imagination by besto-wing on the pul
pit all the attractiveness of the drama. Mr. Spur
geon has become the subject of caricature on more

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 167
than one occasion, and he has not been spared by
the pencU of the EngUsh artists.* Like Socrates,
he has had the honour to have been put on the stage
while yet alive. These arrows of criticism are
always directed against talents which may be odd,
but yet are real ; why, therefore, should he have
shown the weakness of taking notice of them ?
Mr. Spurgeon is distinguished by his liberal
views. On a recent occasion he assisted -with his
great influence the election to Parliament of Mr.
Thomas Hughes, the celebrated author of Tom Brown! s
School-days. There was nothing to astonish in this
interference of a dissenting minister in public mat
ters, and nothing contrary to conventional ideas ; for
it must be remembered that ci-vil institutions in
England have been moulded out of the same metal
as the forms of reUgious belief.
One of the most interesting scenes in the Taber
nacle is the baptism of adults, which takes place
generaUy on some Thursday evening after the service.
About twenty candidates for the rite are grouped to
gether on a platform occupying one of the ends of the
hall, under the pulpit. The youi^g girls are dressed in
white, and wear caps fitting closely round the head.

* Mr. Spurgeon used to be represented, three or four years
ago, under the form of a gorilla, in allusion to a celebrated dis
pute which took place in England about this man-resembling ape,
in whom the orator refused, as he said, " to acknowledge one of
his ancestors."

168 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
and set off with a border of lace. Their long robes
hanging down in straight folds, with a sort of pe
lerine covering their shoulders; their modest and
meditative air — everything in their costume and atti
tude caUs to mind the saintly statues which one sees
in ancient churches. The men are dressed in a sort
of dressing-go-wn, with a white cravat or collar. In
the middle of the platform a reservoir of water stands -
open, on the edge of which are placed two deacons
in every-day dress. Mr. Spurgeon, invested for
this occasion with a long clerical robe with flowing
sleeves, stands hidden up to his waist in the water in
the tank. Now comes the neophyte's turn. One of
the young girls first goes down the steps into the
water ; the minister, holding her by the arm, ad
dresses her as foUows : "According to thy profession
of faith in Jesus Christ, and by thy own desire, I
baptise thee in the name of the Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost." At the same time he immerses her in
the water. The same ceremony is repeated with the
other sisters ; and as each of them in turn remounted
the steps of the tank, dripping with water, one of the
deacons threw over her shoulders a sort of mantie,
and she was led away into an adjacent room by a
female appointed to this duty. It was in the month
of January 1865, and the water was necessarily
very cold ; so I rather trembled at the idea of young
girls being subjected to such an ordeal; but as far
as they were concerned — warmed no doubt by re-

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 169
Ugious enthusiasm — they appeared to show neither
dread nor even hesitation. This ceremony of baptism
by immersion has altogether something rather im
posing about it ; and so great is the respect shown by
the EngUsh people for all the forms of worship, that
even those who attended out of mere curiosity seemed
to enter into it with great thoughtfulness. " They
come to be amused, and they remain to pray," said
Mr. Spurgeon, with perhaps too much confidence.
But who are those serious-looking men, who may
be seen Sunday after Sunday, aU clad in a peculiar
and similar fashion, and gravely bending their steps
to their meeting-house? They are those who are
vulgarly called Quakers, but who themselves give to
their sect the appeUation of the Society of Friends.
Their founder was George Fox, born in 1624. He
was the son of a poor weaver, and was bound ap
prentice to a shoemaker ; but, carried away by the
force of religious ideas, he one day ran away from
his master's house, and took to running about the
country Uke a hermit, clad, if not in camel's hair, at
least in a leathern doublet. With no other com
panion, he fasted, and wandered about in desert
places ; sleeping in the day-time in the hoUow trunk
of a free ; during the night he traversed the 'fields,
like one possessed with the demon of melancholy.
At the age of twenty-two he began publicly to
preach his doctrines. He considered that the Re
formed Church had even yet preserved too many

170 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
human institutions in her forms and ceremonies, and
therefore determined to pass by .the whole system of
established worship, and to go back to divine inspi
ration as the purest fountain-head. He looked also
upon certain forms of social politeness as being con
taminated with superstitious respect, and therefore
would not take off his hat to any one, great or smaU :
he thee'd and thou'd aU the world, both rich and
poor. The whole time from 1648 to his death,
which took place in 1691, was spent by him in
traveUing and reUgious controversies, except that
period in which he was in prison. He several times
visited the Continent, and in 1661 set saU for the
EngUsh colonies in America. Twice he passed some
time in the Low Countries, where his doctrines took
deep rooi
This, then, was the man who determined the first
principles of the sect. The Society of Friends do
not require from its members any profession of faith ;
they have scarcely any pecuUar tenets, and thefr sys
tem of management is by synods or meetings. The
pecuUar features that characterise them are a pro
found behef in the direct infiuence of the Holy Spfrit
over the soul of man, and a Uteral interpretation of
many of those Divine commands which other Chris-.
tiaiis are content to understand generally. As the
names we give to the months of the year and the
days of the week are derived from pagan sources,
the Friends refuse to use them ; and they are there-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 171
fore in the habit of saying ^ first nnonth" or " second
Wionth" instead of January or February; and "firsit
day" or "second day" instead of Sunday or Monday.
If litigious disputes arise among them, Quakers are
not permitted to have recourse to the ordinary fri-
bunals, but are compelled to sujimit their differences
to the arbifration of two or three of the brethren. If
either of the two parties interested refuse to abide by
the decision of the arbifrators, they may be excluded
"from society" by the meeting to which they belong,
which assembles every month. Truth being in their
eyes one of the ffrst of Christian virtues, and as they
also attach a Uteral authority to the Divine command
which says " Swear not at all," they maintain that
every man ought to be beheved on his simple word,
and, as far as they are concerned, passively resist
any imposition of g,n oath. Thefr resistance in this
respect has been the means of bringing on them some
odious persecutions ; but in the present day their
simple affirmation is received as valid in courts of
justice and in governmental business. Their sacred
horror of war is very weU known, and they oppose
with the same energy any attempt against Uberty of
conscience. Their chapel, or, more properly, their meeting-
place, is generaUy a large hall without any adorn
ment but cleanliness, with whitewashed walls, a fioor
carefully swept, and wooden benches, on which aU sit
together without distinction either of rank or fortune.

172 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Ill the library the archives of the Sociefy figure in
iseveral volumes. Their worship is entirely imma
terial ; they worship God in spirit at least, if not in
truth. They have no forms of prayer, no fasts, and
no thanksgivings ; and as they maintain that aU the
ancient symbols were^ abolished by the new law, they
admit no Baptism but that of the Spirit, and their
Communion is an inward act of the soul without any
outward and visible sign. In their meetings both men
and women, rich and poor, learned and ignorant,
are equally aUowed to address the congregation ; just
as they feel inspired. A gathering of very taciturn
people is sometimes styled a " Quakers' meeting ;"
and it is the fact, that before anyone breaks silence
in these conventicles, he must feel lumself " moved
by the Spirit ;" and occasionally the Spfrit seems tardy
in its inspiration, and then tiiey quietiy wait in deep
meditation. There are, however, elders who super
intend the course of the addresses, but only for the
sake of maintaining order. Even marriage itself is
celebrated without the intervention of any priest. If
one of the "members of Sociefy" intends to take a
wife, he informs the men's meeting to which he
belongs; his "intended" does the same on her part
to the meeting of her feUows. The consent of the
parents is then ascertained, and the freedom of the
contracting parties ; if the woman be a widow and
has children, care is taken to insure their future
means of existence. All this being done, the engaged

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 173
persons present themselves before the Friends' meet
ing, who give them a certificate of marriage. Burials
take place with the same simpUcity ; there is no
ftmereal pomp and no wearing mourning ; they even
abstain from indicating the place of burial by any
kind of monument or grave-stone.
It is quite contrary to their principles to pay for
any religious duties performed ; every one, in thefr
view, ought to impart gratis to others that which he
has himself received gratis. " Freely ye have re
ceived, freely give." Their charitable funds are
very plentifiil, and especiaUy devoted to procuring
for children the means of education. They have
scarcely any poor among them, and a Quaker claim
ing parish relief is a thing almost unheard of in
England. When a merchant belonging to the So
ciety gets into business difficulties, the " Friends "
come to his help ; and if his embarrassments are the
result of misfortune, wUl prevent his becoming a
bankrupt. Just as towards men they are charitable,
so towards animals they show themselves humane.
One of the old precepts of their doctrine is, "to re
quire from the ox only that length of furrow which
he can plough without taking breath." As one who
especially practised all the -drtues of this sect, we
must mention Richard Reynolds, of Bristol, who
died a few years back. Ha-dng amassed a princely
fortune in the iron trade, he devoted himself and his
wealth entirely to deeds of benevolence. His dona-

174 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
tions could never be identified by any signature ; he
merely -wrote on a blank leaf, " from a friend." A
lady came to him one day to soUcit his generosify
in behalf of a poor orphan, and he liberaUy bestowed
it. " When he is grovni up," she said, " I wUl teU
him the name of his benefactor." " You ar6 quite
wrong," said he ; " do we thank the cloud for the
rain which it sends us ? Teach him rather to look
higher, and to thank Him who sends both the cloud
and the rain."
The Quaker ought to be speciaUy studied in his
own home. His house is in general pervaded by a
quiet air of prosperity. If you ask him the cause of
his wealth, he wiU teU you that the merit is due
above everything to the education that he received.
From the tenderest age he was constantly taught to
rightiy appreciate the value of time. To provide for
the material welfare of his famUy is, with him, more
than a mere dictate of prudence — it becomes a reU
gious dufy. But I should like the character of his
home arrangements to be rightiy understood ; every
thing is marked by a certain severe elegance ; you
wiU see neither pianos, nor any unnecessary fin:ni-
ture, nor briUiant hangings. The great deUght among
the Quakers, especiaUy in the country, consists in
their gardens and the culture of rare plants. They
wiU wiUingly make use of thefr carriage and pafr of
horses ; but they wiU not adopt armorial bearings.
The females wear a distinguishing costume — a bon-

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 175
net of antique shape, generaUy of a pearl-gray colour,
a go-wn of dark gray without either flounces or trim
mings, and a shawl wrapped round them, fastened
very high up. Everything is of an exceUent and
cosdy material, which, however, does not much at-
fract the eye. A foreigner, seeing them thus clad,
would readily take them for Sisters of Charity.
Quakeresses take as much pains to soften down any
gay appearance in their toilette as other women do
to make a show of wealth. Quakers, in their con
versation, avoid speaking of any members of their
family who are no more ; these absent ones belong
to God and silence only. They are temperate in the
midst of abundance, and enjoy their riches with
moderation ; thefr domestic servants are numerous,
and kindly treated : they aU attend twice every day,
morning and evening, not at prayers, for Quakers
never pray with their lips, but at a reading of the
Bible. They exercise hospitality with dignity and
generosity, and yet at the same time with modesfy.
This mode of domestic Ufe would not be, I daresay,
to the taste of everyone; yet it has its peculiar
charm. It is the paradise of rest. How, then, can
we doubt whether the Friends are happy ? Why, we
can see it in their serene demeanour and transparent
look. Everything in them, even the very sound of
their voice, announces peace of mind and evenness
of disposition. The Society of Friends take very Uttie pains in

176 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
making proselytes. Everyone who wishes it cannot
be a Quaker. I knew a town in Norfolk where a
soi-disant convert took it into his head to wear the
" broad brim" and to attend the meetings ; but he
never succeeded in gaining the confidence of the
sect. You must be born a Quaker, for you cannot
become one ; therefore the Society of Friends cannot
much increase ; indeed, I am told that it is diminish
ing. The young Quakeresses very willingly relin
quish their old and original costume, and put on
ribbons, flowers, and even — proh pudorf — ^jupons
of crinoline. The young men, on their side, enrol
themselves among the Volunteers, and thus dare to
carry arms. And now, at banquets, some Friends
show the weakness of standing up with the other
guests when the Queen's health is proposed.* The
older members among them groan over all this ; and
by an increased dignity in their o-wn demeanom* en
deavour to save the compromised honour of Quaker
ism. It is, besides, a matter of remark, that any
Friends who detach themselves from the Sociefy sel
dom or ever join any other religious denomination.
The general name of Methodists is the designation
in England for another sect embracing numerous sup
porters among the working classes. It is di-sdded into

"" True Quakers remain seated at such a time ; not from any
spirit of opposition, but in accordance with the usages of their
sect. In their idea, we may feel respect for persons in the heart,
but must not show it by any outward demonstrations.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 177
several branches, the two principal of which were
originaUy grafted on the tree of the Reformation —
one by Wesley, and the other by George Whitfield.
John Wesley was bom in 1703. At the period
when he first appeared upon the scene, reUgion
among our neighbours was very Uttie more than a
matter of custom and fashion ; and, as regards mat
ters of belief, this epoch might be compared to that
which in our country preceded the French Revolu
tion. Wesley was a fellow of one of the coUeges at
Oxford ; but very early in life, having taken Orders,
he proceeded to America to preach the Gospel to the
Indians. On his return to England he began to
seek out some means to regenerate reUgion, which
was dying out in the souls of the people. After
having for some time sfruggled " as one that beateth
the air," he pledged himself to address the multitude.
He took to preaching in the fields, or along the road
side, mounted on a cart, a gate, or a hay-cock ; and
the people assembled from aU the surrounding neigh
bourhood to hear him. His preaching was clear,
simple, and convincing ; and it moved the multitude
Uke a field of corn shivering in the breeze. The
churches were closed to him on account of the pecu-
Uarity of his doctrines ; so he took for his ^temple the
vaulted arch of heaven ; and in these open-air assem
blies the voices of fifty thousand people, singing the
hymns composed by himself, were wont to mount up
Uke the rush of mighty waters. The master and his
N

178 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
disciples were both persecuted ; but the ill-freatment
which they suffered only served to stfr up the fire of
their enthusiasm. I think this seems one of the sad
dest pages in the reUgious annals of England. The
Estabhshed Church, however, Uke the EngUsh aris
tocracy, has one great source of strength ; she can
see how to take ad-dce from her opponents. The pas
tors acknowledged the fact that they had too much
neglected their flocks, and it was the voice of John
Wesley which awakened them from their long-pro
tracted lethargy ; and this was partly his intention,
for he wished to act upon the Church, as weU as on
those sections which had become detached from it.
At the present time the sect of Wesleyan Metho
dists forms in England one of the most powerful
branches of Dissent. There is but httle as regards
points of docfrine to separate them from the State
Church ; but they manage very differently in their
arrangements for pubhc worship. There are two
kinds of preachers — one class bemg ministers, and
the other laymen — who pro-vdde for the spiritual wants
of the Methodist congregations in each "round" or
division for reUgious purposes. The ministers are
devoted entirely to the sacred work, and are paid by
ftmds raised for this purpose in the "classes" or con
gregations.* Good care is taken, however, that they
* These classes are rightly considered as the base of the Me
thodist system. They are composed of about twelve persons, and
each has its leader — a lajrman elected at a lay meeting. Each

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 179

do not get rich by means of the Gospel. One descrip
tion of ministers among them have received the name
of itinerant preachers. They are not attached to any
chapel in particular, but, on the contrary, travel
about, sowing the word from pulpit to pulpit; it is
very rarely that they preach two Sundays running
at the same place. It is reckoned that there are
nearly twelve hundred itinerant preachers in Great
Britain. The lay or local preachers, on the other
hand, are not remunerated by the brotherhood. They
are generally employed in some profession, some
times even in manual labour, and have a chapel as
signed them for the Sunday, in which they exercise
ministerial fiinctions. These unlearned orators have
a sort of eloquence of thefr own ; and they endeavour
by thefr energetic and uncultivated oratory to awaken
in the hearts of their hearers the duU chords of reli
gious feeling. It is generally the case that the im
pression which they make on their congregation is
considerable ; and this is easily perceptible from the
deep-murmured groanings which proceed from the
agitated heart.
Even females are not excluded from pubhc minis
try ; and a young girl of seventeen has lately drawn
together crowds in certain Methodist chapels. Be
sides Sunday, which they keep in fear and trembUng,

member of the class, except in case of extreme poverty, deposits
at least a penny a week in the funds of the society, by way of
contribution.

180 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
the Wesleyans have some other peculiar religious
festivals ; such as the love-feasts, which take place at
certain intervals, and also the watch-night, which is
held the last night of the old year, both to hail the
new year, and also to impress thefr minds with the
idea of the shortness of time. Tea-parties, at which
they have been known to bring together as many as
two thousand persons, also play a considerable part
ill the arrangements of this body. The amount that
they collect by donations and subscriptions is reaUy
marvellous. At the time of the Wesleyan Jubilee, a
few years back, they got together a sum of from
300,000^. to 400,000?. When we consider that a
very large portion of this money conies out of the
pockets of the poor, we are bound to acknowledge
the force of doctrines which can inspire such devo
tion. It would be needless to foUow out these religiouj)
denominations into all their subordinate di-visions,
and thus to pass in review all the sects which exist
in England. We must, however, notice the New
Church founded on the theological works of Sweden
borg. These doctrines were first inti'oduced into
England by two clergymen of the Church of Eng
land, Thomas Hartley and John Clowes, who trans
lated into English the Arcana Ccelestia (Heavenly
Secrets). In 1783, eleven years after the death of
the celebrated Swedish visionary, there was an ad
vertisement inserted in the newspapers, pointing out

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 181
a place of rendezvous for any proselytes to his ideas.
Five persons attended, and formed a sort of religious
meeting. In 1787 the number of believers amounted
to seventeen ; and it was about this time that the
arrangements of this new worship were settled. We
see here how new sects spring up in England. Any
man, or any group of men, wishing to establish some
new religious system, who can find proselytes enough
to pay the expenses of a place, and of the ser-vices in
it, are quite at liberty to open a chapel. •
The Swedenhorgians, or members of the New
Church, meet in London, near the British Museum,
in a good house, the lower portion of which is used
as a bookseUer's shop, where they publish energeti
cally all the works both of the master and his dis
ciples. Their conviction is that the Scriptures are to
be interpreted in two senses ; one a natural, and the
other a spiritual sense. The natural sense is that
in which it has been understood by other Christian
Churches, whilst the spiritual sense was only made
known for the ffrst time by the Apostle of Stockholm,
to whom the privilege had been given to converse
with angels and spirits. The rites of the New Church
differ but very little from those which are practised
in other Protestant chapels ; but they take a great
interest in matters concerning the mysteries of a
future Ufe. According to the Swedenhorgians, man
is to pass, after death, into an intermediate state,
where he who is inwardly good wUl receive a fuller

182 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.^
dose of truth, which wUl prepare him for heaven, and
he who is inwardly wicked will finally reject aU en
lightenment, and wiU thus go do-wn for ever among
the reprobate. They reckon at present but a smaU
number of members in their congregations ; but, to
make up for this, they are mostly educated and re
spectable men ; but yet, what ecstatic countenances
they manifest ! I must not fail to announce it, as I
fear much doubt exists both in France and England
oil the point, — that the Last Judgment has already
taken place, and that the " New Jerusalem" is, atthe
present time, come down upon earth under the form
of the New Church, This, at aU events, is the im
portant news which these oracles of mysticism charged
me to make known.
The Unitarians are of more ancient origin, al
though they are farther removed from the old stock
of the national faith, and of late years in England
much attention has been drawn towards them. Thefr
doctrines can be traced back as far as Arius, a divine
of Alexandria, who lived in the fourth century. They
first appeared in England shortiy after the Reforma
tion, and Milton himself is said to have been a semi-
Arian. Unitarians believe, as their name implies, in
a God one and indivisible. Their ideas made but
little progress in England up to the commencement
of the eighteenth century, when a good many who
were formerly Presbyterian ministers embraced doc
trines contrary to the dogma of the Trinity. I was

EELIGIOUS LIFE m ENGLAND. 183
in the habit of attending, for some weeks, the ser-
-sdce in a Unitarian chapel near Finsbury-square, in
London. There they read the Bible pubUcly, espe
ciaUy the New Testament, as a book of high moral
import, but without beUeving in the inspiration of
the sacred authors. In this course of reading, which
is selected beforehand, they avoid certain docfrinal
passages, such as those speaking of the faU of man in
Adam. Christian theology hangs together in one
connected chain ; if we deny the Fall, is it not also
denying Redemption? And in fact the Unitarians
do not believe in the di-vinity of Jesus Christ. In
thefr -view he was the most perfect model on which
God ever imprinted his image, but "that he was
constituted in aU points as other men." They be
Ueve that his death was not a sacrifice offered in
expiation for our sins, but that it was the martyrdom
of a just man in the cause of fruth. They, therefore,
avoid addressing him in thefr prayers ; and all that
they ask of God himself is his Ught to enlighten
their souls. In practice they make happiness consist
in the due performance of the duties of hfe ; man is
justified by his works' and conscience alone. They
maintain a belief in immortalify ; and they feel that,
through a future broken with light and shade, they
can stiU catch a glimpse of a righteous yet merciful
Judge. Some of the preachers, from whose discourses I
endeavoured to comprehend the principal features of

184 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
their system, were unquestionably most eloquent ;
and amongst them I especiaUy remarked a young
Cambridge divine, who, on Easter-day, preached a
sermon on the progress of science. From all that I
have seen of it, Unitarianism seems more a system of
philosophy than of religion ; it still, however, appears
desirous to adhere to Christian forms. The services
are celebrated with them very much as they are in
other Dissenting chapels; and their hymn-book, made
up of exfracts from Byron, Coleridge, and Cowper,
certainly evinces some traces of poetry in their wor
ship. The congregations are generally not very
numerous, and, which especiaUy struck me, entirely
composed of people of the higher classes. This doc
trine, which has planted itself so deeply in America,
has as yet thrown out but feeble roots among the
working classes in London.
Chapels are not the only meeting-places for the
various religious sects in England. Theatres, s-wim-
ming-baths, and many other edifices are converted
on Sundays into places dedicated to worship. And,
in some cases, is there any need at all felt of a
temple built by man's hand ? Truly not ; for some
religious meetings are purposely held in the open
air. I recollect seeing, one fine day in spring, in
the midst of the fields, and sitting under a hawthorn
hedge in bloom, a loving couple, who were keeping
Sunday in their own way. The young man was read
ing and explaining the Bible, and the young girl

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 185
was listening to him ; he was the minister, and she
was the congregation. But this kind of pairing off
to worship was not what I meant.
At the time of the great revival movement which
took place in London some years back, Hyde Park
was perfectly invaded by prayers, hymns, and ser
mons. At the present time even, during the sum
mer, we meet with a numerous tribe of open-air
preachers in different parts of London. There are
some of aU ages, from a. boy of fifteen to an old man
with gray hairs ; and they are of all opinions, from
orthodox Christians down to Mormons, and sometimes
even atheists. Sunday, which is so sfrictly observed
by our neighbours, as far as the closing of shops and
theafres is concerned, is perhaps the day of all others
in the week on which the National Church has to
undergo the roughest usage on the part of her oppo
nents. The great majorify, however, of the open-afr
preachers adhere to the Bible ; and it is not so much
their doctrines as their mode of communicating them
which may appear heterodox. One of their usual
habits is to begin their discourse by caUing their
hearers "miserable sinners," which certainly seems
to those who listen a scarcely charitable or even Chris
tian mode of address. One day in one place, one
day in another, these Gospel peripatetics always give
a preference to those places which are most crowded ;
and thus their discourses are often interrupted by
profane amusements and grotesque scenes.

186 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
A female, about thirty years of age, lean, and
dark like any gipsy, was preaching one Sunday with
enthusiasm at the entrance of Greenwich Park, in
the midst of the donkey-races for which Blackheath
is so famous. One of these animals, which for the
moment was not hired, availed himself of his liberfy
to approach the little group of listeners, and even to
rub his head against the elbow of the woman who
was preaching. For some time all went well, and
the preacheress, carried away by her zeal, did not even
notice a circumstance so -vulgar; but at one of her
most pathetic moments, just as she was cryuig out,
" Yes, I am a vagabond for the faith ; yes, young as
I was, I left my father's house to g^ and spread the
words of truth in towns and -villages," the donkey
took to braying in the most scandalous way. In vain
did she threaten the creature with her celestial fro-svn,
and in vain did she endeavour, both by look and ges
ture, to exorcise the demon which possessed him. No ;
the horrible noise kept on as badly as ever, and the
congregation dispersed amidst roars of laughter.
I do not think that these street-sermons really
exercise any great influence on the EngUsh popula
tion, and yet a very important matter, — the Uberty
of discussion, — was more fuUy developed out of the
midst of these discordant utterances. Lately an
alderman of London caused the apprehension of a
clergyman of the Established Church, who, from
lack of employment or for some other motive, had

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 187
given himself up to preaching in the streets and
public places in London. The two parties appeared
before the magistrate, according to custom, and the
worthy alderman pointed out with some indignation
the Chartist tendencies which he thought he re
marked in the preacher's tUscourse. "I have nothing
to do with the opinions which he preaches," gravely
answered the magistrate ; and as it was proved that
the defendant had not impeded movement in the
public thoroughfares, his dismissal was immediately
pronounced. After all, this freedom of speech is the
main foundation of the English Constitution.
The Dissenters or Nonconformists form, as we
see, the Protestants of Protestantism. All of them,
more or less, oppose any authority in matters of
behef. The Church of England, it must be allowed,
seems but httle alarmed at her Dissenting opponents ;
and why should she be? Has she not on her side
the mass of education and wealth, and also the sanc
tion of the State ? There are, however, some in
England who bitterly regret this state of things, and
who would wish, at any price, to bring back unity
in matters of faith. But, I must say, I think they
are wrong, and that, on the contrary, these differ
ences form one of the chief safe-guards of religious
liberfy. There is, too, more than one bond of union
between aU these various sects which have arisen
out of the growth of the Reformation. For one
thing, did they not, some years back, found, in con-

188 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
cert together, the London Universify? Have they
not, also, concluded a sort of compact, which, under
the name of the Evangelical Alliance, tends to draw
all together in feelings of tolerance and charify?
Even a section of the Established Church (the Low-
Church party) has thought "fit to join this movement.
And, in fact, what have they to fear from the mutual
action of aU the Dissenting bodies ? This schism,
of which so much is said, consists in forms much
more than in doctrines. One great and essential
fact is, that the liberty which Protestantism allows
to human reason is all-sufficient to prevent any hind
rance being offered to the progress of science and
the development of industry.
I climbed, one Sunday morning, on to the heights
which overhang the town of Swansea, consigned,
for that one day, to silence and rest. Two kinds
of buildings only evinced any signs of life ; the high
chimney-shafts, towering over the iron foundries,
gave vent to black serpents of smoke, curled round
by the wind into spiral coils, chasing one another
over the tiled roofs; and from the church steeples
I heard the sound of the bells inviting to worship.
Labour and Prayer — these were the two elements
which seemed to float in the air over this town,
spread out as it is on the edge of the resounding
sea. Does not this seem to afford us a symbol of
English ci^'ilisation ? Religion and Industry — those
two great powers, which, in Catholic countries, have

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 189
ever regarded each other with mistrustful jealousy
— ^have here persistentiy lived side by side in perfect
harmony ; and there has proceeded from this aUiance,
on the one side, liberty of thought, on the other,
-vdctory over matter.
To these phases of relfgious activify, which aU of
them, more or less, seek in Revelation for the found
ation of their faith and worship, it may perhaps seem
curious to bring in rivalry another current of ideas,
which takes its source in nature, science, history,
and the fine arts, and in England is represented by
a temple of its own, dedicated to the philosophical
tendencies of the mind of man.

CHAPTER VII.
Those who go to Church and those who go out of Town — Nature's
festivals — The Crystal Palace — Why we call it a temple — How
it originated — Has it answered the end for which it was built ?
— The amusements which frustrate the good intentions of its
founders — Services which it might render to the education of
the people.
Almost before the frees have begun to throw out
their white chaplets of blossom and the delicate
fracery of thefr first foliage, do the inhabitants of
London commence to rush in crowds into the coun
try. Milton, who passed in London some of the best
years of his life, draws a happy picture, in his Para
dise Lost, of the delight which those imprisoned in
populous cities must feel, in going out on a fine
summer morning, and breathing the fresh air amid
the lovely viUage scenery and the surrounding farms,
mingled with the sweet odours of the corn, the hay,
the cows, and dafries. The taste which Cockneys show
for landscapes and rustic scenes is, then, nothing
new ; but this taste must necessarily have much de
veloped, inasmuch as London has so much increased,
and the environs — and therefore the charms of na
ture — have become more and more distant from
the heart of the metropolis. The raUways also have

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 191
powerfuUy assisted in extending the relations of
London with the counfry which lies round it. That
which was always an inclination has now, for some
years, become a custom, subject, like aU other Eng
Ush customs, to be influenced as to its extent by
periodical festivals.
Excursions always commence on Good Friday.
This day, in England, has nothing of the solemn
sadness about it, which it puts on in Catholic coun
tries ; it is a day both of rest and pleasure-taking : it
might be called a gay Sunday, only that this union of
words would be entfrely condemned by the religious
ideas prevalent in England. Immediately after Good
Friday foUows Easter Monday, also bringing in its
frain numbers of country excursions, which continue,
more or less, aU through the week. The excursion
fever breaks out again in the summer with Whit
Monday. On that day, among a certain class, a
man would be hardly thought an Englishman if he
were seen in the streets of London, unless he had
some very pressing occupation. The " Bean Feast,"
which takes place some time in the month of June,
also has its effect on the rurahsing propensities of
the Londoner — principaUy among the working class
— and draws away thousands of families out of the
town. These popular excursions not only obey, like
the tides, the influence of the zodiac, but even the
place which is principaUy resorted to is very much
determined by the day and the season at which the

192 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
excursion takes place. Thus the feast of spring and
of renovated nature, celebrated on Easter Monday,
is principally kept on the heights of Blackheath,
where, amid games of skiU, donkey-races, and
gipsies' tents, stands the entrance to Greenwich
Park, with its venerable Observatory, a temple dedi
cated to the study of the stars, which regulate in the
heavens the course of the seasons.
On days like this it is curious to visit the raUway
stations, especially that at London Bridge. It seems
as if all the powers of steam would be set at defiance
to carry away the shoals of excursionists. The wo
men and chUdren naturally take their share in the
festival, and rush with unequal steps to the open
carriages. There are plenty of fraveUers, but very
little luggage, except here and there baskets con
taining provisions. At last the departure-signal is
given, and the frain ghdes out hke a serpent unwind
ing its coils of carriages. And where are they all
going to ? Many of the Londoners profess a kind
of devotion for Margate, Ramsgate, and Sheerness.
This latter shore is sandy, and rather desolate, and
the ocean scarcely shows itself there in all its gran
deur ; but still it is the sea, and that is a sight which
always has its effect upon the British heart. Some
time back the Bishops of the Church of England
joined in writing a letter to the directors of the
various railways, to ask them not to start any more
Sundayexcursion-frains. This letter was not at aU

RELIGIOUS LIFE m ENGLAND. 193
weU received by pubhc opinion, and there is very
little chance that their proposition wiU ever be car
ried out. The working classes in summer time mani
fest an invincible preference for the great temple of
nature, and they love, as was said, to hear on the
sea-shore the majestic voice of the wind as it preaches
to the waves.
This fashion of making excursions is based upon
a real want and a hygienic fact. Dr. Letheby, a
physician who has for many years studied the sub
ject, states, with aU the authority derived from sta
tistics, that the mortality in London is double that
which affects the country. How, then, can it be
wondered at that this great stone cage should some
times open and let loose whole fiights of prisoners,
who take wing for the fields and woods, and try to
breathe the life-gi-ving air? The great centres of
atfraction for the excursionists vary, as may be sup
posed, according to the- season of the year, and ac
cording to their separate tastes; but there is one
¦viUage in the environs of London that has the pri
vilege of always attracting a crowd. This place is
Sydenham, where stands the Crystal Palace ; and it
is thither that we wish to conduct our readers for
a short time.
A journey to the Crystal Palace satisfies several
requirements at once. In the first place, it is an ob
ject to have in view in an excursion, and it is also
an excellent place fdr a promenade. The way to it
Q

194 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
is by train, through the pleasant -vUlages of New-
Cross, Forest HiU, and Lower Sydenham; one
catches a glimpse of some of the pleasing landscapes
of Surrey, with their green lawns and clumps of
trees ; one glides by the viUas, placed sometimes at
the very edge of the Une, but which, with a sort of
feminine coquetry, just show themselves for a mo
ment, and are then lost again, half hidden with
foliage and flowers. The gardens of the Crystal
Palace can be seen even before getting out of the
train. In these gardens they have endeavoured to
unite the Italian and English styles, without at the
same time too much interfering -with nature, which
seems to triumph in the free and proud gro-wth of
the lofty trees. The principal object of attraction,
however, as may weU be guessed, is the Palace itself.
This edifice of fron and glass is very nearly the
same as the one wliich figured in Hyde Park in
1851, which contained the ffrst Great International
Exhibition. Ha-ving been puUed down in 1852, it
was again erected on the heights of Penge, at Syden
ham, on a new plan, which somewhat modified, en
larged, and embeUished the exterior arrangements.
There are stories in the legends of the Middle Ages
of houses carried for long distances on the -wings of
angels ; it was reserved for our age of ingenuity, and
for a new system of architecture, to reaUse these
wondrous dreams. One of the distinctive character
istics of these constructions, which represent in archi-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 195
tecture the modern English style, is their movahle-
ness ; in case of need they can be either taken away,
set up again, or altered. Another advantage, which
certainly would be hardly expected of them, is theii
soUdity. The Crystal Palace, in spite of its fragile
appearance, has sustained the shock of the elements
¦without any signs of giving way. Some years back,
it was assailed by a sort of waterspout — a furious
storm .which shook aU the roofrwork ; but yet it stood
it weU. The Palace has all the strength which Ught
and airy things possess ; being incorruptible as the
air that fiUs it, it sets time at defiance by the un
changeable nature of its materials — ^glass and galva
nised iron. From a distance, four or five miles off,
it glitters in the sun like a mass of diamonds ; one
would be inclined to -view it as the fabric of a dream,
something made of air and sunbeams, rather than as
a real edifice. Seen close, it shows an immense pro
jecting fagade fraversed with galleries, with tracery-
work of iron supporting arches, and with fan-Uke
surfaces of glass spreading out somewhat in the form
of a corona. This facade is fianked -with two wings
sfretching out to an immense length, and, with towers
of glass, which would appear very lofty, but that
they are in complete harmony with the gigantic pro
portions of the whole. " If the monuments of the
past could again come into being, this is the form
that they would take," cried an artist, fidl of enthu
siasm at the sight of this fairy architecture, and these

196 RELIGIOUS LIFE m ENGLAND.
vast crystal waUs, showing through them the colour
of the sky.
In reality, the beauty of a consfruction like this
consists only in the boldness and grandeur of its out-
Unes. The interior, looked at from the nave, at first
sight seems to resemble a great covered garden. In
the winter time mists form in it, which rise gentiy to
the glass sky, and then drop again in dew; inside
the buUding, we may in a manner visit different
climates. One day when there was a hard frost I
passed from a temperature much below the freezing-
point into a perfectiy warm place, where fropical
climes were represented by palms, bamboos, and
cocoa-nut trees. Li every season this garden has its
clumps of green fohage, its creeping plants running
from tree to tree, its pieces of water, adorned with
the large leaves of the water-hly, its bfrds, — black
birds, nightingales, linnets, robins, — which make
their nests in the branches, and fly about and sing
without any idea of their half-captivity, or perch
familiarly on the shoulders of the statues. A crowd
seems lost in this colossal promenade. A Frenchman
expressed to me his admiration of the Crystal Palace,
and only regretted that there was scarcely any one
there on the day on which he -visited it. There were
ill fact only five thousand admissions that day, accord
ing to the papers.
Are we wrong in caUing this a temple ? In the
first place, this is the very name which its founders

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 197
themselves gave it, on more than one occasion ; and
it reaUy very much corresponds with the idea which
the ancients formed of a religious edifice. But in
what way is it a temple ? Is it because it has been
occasionaUy used as a place of pubhc worship ? Is
it because Mr. Spurgeon has preached in it ? Or is
it because the Sacred Concerts sometimes given there
convey some of the most glorious passages of the Old
and New Testaments ? No, indeed ; the Crystal Pa
lace may truly be looked upon as a temple, but quite
in another point of view. The creation of the world,
the origin of man, the succession of races, the forces
which prevail in the distribution of climates and
natural productions, the filiation of dogmas and forms
of worship, the changes in the idea of God, the
course of man's works through long ages, the succes
sion of ancient and modern civihsations, the variations
in religious feeling as iUusfrated by the fine arts, the
conquests of science, ingenuity, and labour, — these
are some of the great problems which are brought
before us at every step by the objects collected in
this sanctuary of historical contemplation. What
mind, whether a believer's or an unbeliever's, could
be, at the present day, indifferent to these questions ;
and does not the supremacy of the future belong to
that system of knowledge which shall best resolve
them ?
This establishment, like almost aU the great in
stitutions in England, was founded by a company.

198 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
The dfrectors of this company put out a prospectus,
announcing that they intended to raise a capital of
500,000Z., and for this purpose to issue one hundred
thousand shares of 51. each. Within fifteen days
afterwards the whole of the money was got. The
founders resolved to raise a palace /or an idea. What,
then, was this idea ? To insfruct the masses, whilst
at the same time they amused them. In order to carry
out this plan the company offered Sir Joseph Pax-
ton, the architect of the glass palace in Hyde Park,
the office of director of the ¦(vinter-garden, the park,
and the greenhouses. His business was to place the
¦visitor amid the trees, flowers, and plants of every
country, and thus to atfract the multitude to the
study of natural science, by showing them U^ving ex
amples of the influence of cUmafe on vegetation.
Mr. Owen Jones and Mr. Digby Wyatt, both distin
guished by their labours in the Exposition of 1851,
were nominated as directors of the department of the
fine arts. Their business consisted in decorating the
, new palace, and in collecting together the chefs-
d! ceuvre of every period, of every form of civilisation,
and of every school, so as to form a course of instruc
tion which might reach the minds of the people
through the infiuence of their eyes.
For this purpose they were sent to the Continent,
where they were generaUy most favourably received ;
except, however, at Rome, at Padua, and Vienna : in
these cities the narrow-minded jealousy of the Papal

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 199
  —Jk
government, and the unenlightened ¦views of Ausfria,
prevented them from copying certain celebrated ob
jects of art. The departments of geology, ethnology,
and zoology were intrusted to Professors Forbes and
Ansted, Dr. Latham, Mr. Waterhouse, Mr. Gould,
and other persons well known in the scientific world.
It was not now wanted to form a mere museum of
natural history, but Science was to be made to address
herself both to the eye and to the imagination. Thus
it was that Mr. Waterhouse Hawkins, at the risk of
imposing a certain sacrifice to the authenticity of
facts, undertook, under the guidance of Professor
Owen, to restore the forms of some of the extinct
animals of the ancient world, instead of merely ex
hibiting their fossil remains. The labours being thus
divided, and Messrs. Fox and Henderson, the archi
tects, having finished the reconstruction of the new
glass building with the materials of the former one,
the Crystal Palace at Sydenham was at last opened
on the lOtii of June 1854.
Since that time can it be said to have attained
the end for which it was consfructed ? Has it been,
as the programme of the company wished it to be, a
Palace of Education for the people? Certainly there
is much to be learnt in this rich coUection hi curio
sities and objects of art, in this history of nature and
mankind, as set forth by visible records. And it is
just in this point of view that we mention the Palace
at Sydenham as an institution elsewhere unparalleled.

200 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
the idea of which we should be glad to see extended
to and reproduced in other places. What country
has a greater right or perhaps even a greater duty
than France to put such a plan in execution ? With
us there has been a great deal of talk about the edu
cation of the people, but there has been very Uttie
done towards it. The English are more practical,
and have succeeded in shaping a course of insfruc
tion which appeals to every capacity by the aUurements
of curiosify. The smaU payment of a shiffing has in
no way prevented the working classes from rushing
in crowds to Sydenham ; and I cannot bring myself
to beUeve that this series of objects, and the impres
sion they must make on the memory, can have glided
out of their minds without leaving some fraces be
hind. Any branches of knowledge thus communi
cated by sight and sense become more accessible to
the multitude ; we may notice this in the astonish
ment and naive enthusiasm shown by the lower
classes at the strange figures representing extinct
forms of civilisation.
The Crystal Palace is the favourite meeting-place
with certain societies of the working class ; the an
nual festival of the Foresters is always held there.
They foism a very numerous Friendly Sociefy, spread
all over England ; and on the day fixed more than
sixty thousand visitors throng the gardens and gal
leries, among whom the Foresters may be distin
guished by symbohcal insignia, and some of them by

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 201
a theatrical costume, which is supposed to bear some
resemblance to that once worn by the famous Robin
Hood. The principals of the schools established at
Sydenham and in the neighbourhood are in the habit
of occasionaUy bringing their pupUs to this temple of
the arts, ingenuity, and progress. What method of
education could possibly be better adapted for youth
than that they should learn by their eyes, and thus
acquire some general notions of the beautiful and the
useful, in the order in which they have been deve
loped through various ages, by having again, as it
were, in long-past epochs, and even among their in
habitants, and by knitting together by visible signs
the chain of past eras and traditions ?
Public lectures are professed to be delivered in
the Palace — at too long intervals, it is true — on the
various branches of science and history ; for the objects
themselves, however striking they may be, do not
always sufficiently explain themselves. Thus, in
1855, I attended an interesting course of lectures, in
which Mr. Waterhouse Hawkins endeavoured, from
the indications afforded by their fossil remains, to
reconstitute the phenomena of the ancient epochs of
the earth and its inhabitants. Why, nevertheless,
must I be constrained to add, that, in spite- of some
very praiseworthy efforts, and in spite of a coUection,
the equal of which one might seek for in vain all over
Europe, — at least from the point of view in which we
regard it, — the educational department in the Crystal

202 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Palace, in the shape of lectures, has remained up to
the present time in a state of infancy ?
The intention of the founders was, as has been
said, to mix up insfruction with pleasure, and it is
not this intention that I wish to blame. They were
persuaded, and rightly so, that the mind of a people
is to be improved by elevating the character of their
amusements. But, unfortunately, that happened with
regard to the Crystal Palace 'which always will hap
pen in undertakings in which the commercial prin
ciple and pecuniary interests predominate. The com
pany looked upon the Crystal Palace as a matter of
business, rather than as a school for the masses. The
admission money was, in fact, a question of Ufe or
death, and, in order to hve, it was necessary to atfract
the crowd. It would, perhaps, be unjust to say that
the multitude showed themselves indifferent to the
various monuments of art, arranged so as to iUus-
frate the history and progress of civUisation ; but
still, it is a fact that the gardens, the masses of flow
ers, the fracery-work of roses, the illuminations a
giorno, the flreworks, and especially the fountains and
water-towers, made by far the greatest impression on
the majorify of the visitors. In speaking of the Crys
tal Palace, one might well use the same words as the
eccentric Jerome Cardan did in his memoirs about
the men around him, — Multi amid, pauci autem docti.
The Palace may number many admfrers, but com
paratively few among them come there to learn.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 203
What, then, took place? The directors, bound
do-wn and resfricted as they were by entirely pecu
niary considerations, have given way to the public
taste, and have latterly shown themselves much more
intent on varying the sights, and introducing amuse
ments quite foreign to the original aim of the institu
tion, than in at all developing the means of scientiflc
instruction. The Crystal Palace is used nowadays
for all sorts of purposes : monster concerts are given
in it which frighten the little birds and drive them
out from their leafy coverts ; the statues have to be
displaced, the great fransept is invaded, and is, on
these days, entirely given up to the musicians, and to
an army of 4000 choristers, as weU as to a multitude
of men and women anxious to show off their toilettes.
Exhibitions are held there of flowers, canaries, pigeons,
and rabbits. BaUoons are sent up, which, from their
immense bulk, are caUed " aerial mammoths." Fancy
Fairs also take place there, every now and then, for
the sale of various friffing articles, the produce of
which is devoted to works of useftdness and charity.*
AU these displays stiU preserve some little relation to
art, ingenuity, and science,! though more or less dis-
* The stall-keepers on these occasions are occasionally actresses
or fashionable ladies. Two or three years ago, a young lady in
vented a new plan for giving an extra value to fancy articles which
were not worth much by themselves. She merely placed them to
her lips, rosy as a camellia bud. This kiss by proxy was worth a
guinea. t It would not certainly be right to number among these some-

204 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
taut; but can even this be said of performances on
the tight-rope ? I do not pretend to deny that a
certain celebrated French acrobat may have been
a fruitful source of pecuniary profit to the Crystal
Palace, thanks to his perilous exhibitions ; but stiU, it
may be asked, if the directors have remained strictly
faithful to their principle, in foUowing this course.
There seems to be a certain reaction forming in the
pubhc mind against such sights, where the gratifica
tion of curiosity is alone in question. I have heard
them condemned by English women with much good
sense, but also, I must aUow, with a littie too much
affectation. Could they not have found out a much
more simple and efficacious means for showing thefr
disgust at this kind of entertainment, by not taking
a part in them? To sum aU up, there are certain
days when the Palace at Sydenham seems to be de
viating not a littie from its original aim ; and that
which ought to be a school of instruction has too
much about it of the public pleasure-garden and of
the music-hall, — too much of the ever-increasing
exhibition of articles for sale ; the museum is being
swallowed up in the bazaar.

what frivolous arausements the ascents of Mr. Glashier in Mr.
Coxwell's balloon, which take place at the Crystal Palace. These
journeys into the clouds have enabled a scientific man of much
eminence to ascertain the temperature, density, and humidity of
the atmosphere at elevations which had never before been at
tained.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 205
I think that the directors are wrong. Though I
take into account the difficulties under which they
have laboured, stiU, it seems to me that there were
aU the first principles of success in the more serious
element in the Crystal Palace arrangements, if they
had taken the trouble to extend and complete them.
I think the public taste would have finally given its
support to a Palace of Education ; but to this end it
was necessary that the direction should have had the
courage to persevere in the path that they themselves
had ffrst opened out. I wiU mention a circumstance
which somewhat confirms my way of looking at it.
There was an estabUshment in London, which though
it did not proceed on exactly the same system as the
Crystal Palace, resembled it in many respects ; this
was the Paiiopticon. It was buUt in Leicester-square,
in a sfyle which the English call the Moorish. There
are, in fact, some imitations of minarets and horse
shoe-shaped arches, also slight columns which remind
one — distantly it is true — of a Palace of the Sylphs.
Mr. Clarke founded this institution, with the idea of
offering to the inhabitants of London a complete round
of instructive recreations. It was his intention to work
upon the imagination, so as to win it over the more
easily to some feeUng for art and to the study of
science. Unfortunately the means of atfraction which
were made use of were not found powerful enough
for the purpose, and one false step after another led
it into a path in which I shoidd be sorry to see the

206 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Crystal Palace foUo-wing, and the Panopticon has, at
the present time, faUen into the capacity of a concert-
room, or rather of a music-haU. It is now the Al
hambra, which before this last deplorable fransfor-
mation emphaticaUy styled itself the " Palace of the
Arabian Nights." It is instructive to compare with
this rather degenerate establishment the Royal Poly
technic Institution, which also aspfred to render
science amusing, and not having made any un-worthy
concessions to the frivolous tastes of the pubUc, has
hitherto preserved its reputation intact, and has, in
deed, achieved a certain measure of success.
In spite of some omissions which are to be re
gretted, and certain defects which were, perhaps,
inseparable from the first carrying out of the plans,
the Crystal Palace stiU presents to us a grand ensemble
of facts and ideas. I should like in my study of it to
draw out the principal features of a course of educa
tion which is nowhere else represented under exactiy
the same form, and to point out any useful improve
ments in it which it might be as weU to infroduce ; in
short, to interpret the conception which guided the
arrangement of the Palace at Sydenham, by stating
both what it now is, and what I think it should be.
Some of my reflections, perhaps, if only they are
correct, may have an influence over the future plans
of other such institutions, which wiU, no doubt, be
¦ hereafter estabhshed.

CHAPTER VIII.
Geology the preface of history — The Island of Monsters— Eaces of
men and their climates — Pythagoras' dream realised in the
Crystal Palace — India badly represented — Ancient Egypt and
its principal historical characteristics — A temple the produc
tion of imagination — Symbolical architecture — -Where is the
mind of a people to be sought for ? — Causes of the decay of
primitive civilisations — The Assyrian Court — The Priest-
Kings — Sensations on passing from the monuments of primi
tive Eastern communities to ancient Greece — Arrival in the
modern world — A Eoman dwelling-house — The Alhambra—
The dogma of Fatalism connects the Moors with the other
quiescent communities.
The Crystal Palace embraces two great classes of
facts : — the history of the earth before man, and the
history of the earth after man's appearance on it.
The first of these two histories is presented to us
in some of its features at the end of the gardens.
The ground is there so arranged as to produce steep
and flat shores, rising grounds, ponds, and islets.
Rocks have been conveyed there which were taken
out of the different geological formations of Great
Britain. It has been the intention of Professor An
sted and Sir Joseph Paxton to illusfrate by examples
the strata of the terrestrial crust, just in the successive
order in which they lie over one another. First we
have the old red sandstone, the carboniferous lime-

208 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
stone, and the coal-bearing beds ; next, with the new
red sandstone, a new order of phenomena begins.
The scientific men and artists connected with the
Palace have not contented themselves with bringing
before our eyes the stratification and position of the
various rocks, but have also endeavoured to resusci
tate some of the fornjer animal inhabitants, remains
of which have been found buried in the more recent
sfrata. Resuscitation, as a human work, is of course
the tracing out the forms of extinct beings ; and
what is there that can be more buried in oblivion
and passed away than these creatures, once real
enough, and existing on the surface of our planet?
Nevertheless we see them here, restored by the con-
frivances of science, perhaps not exactly as they pro
ceeded from the hands of nature, but, at aU events,
something like it.
On the httle island composed of the new red
sandstone, we see squatting down the labyrinthodon
and the dicynodon, Uke monster frogs, almost equal
ling in bulk the size of an ox. In the island of the
lias forination the dynasfy of the great reptiles crawl
about; the ichthyosaurus with his great round eye,
which must have glowed like a lantern in the dark
depths of the sea ; the plesiosaurus, especially remark
able for the great length of its slender and flexible
neck, at the extremify of which the flat head darts
here and there its serpent-like and ferocious bites,
and is also so like the iguana found on the banks ,

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 209
of the Ganges. In the formation that foUows, the
ooUte, we find the smaU pterodactyles, or winged
reptiles, and the megalosaurus, a colossal form with a
lizard's head, voracious as a crocodile, and armed
with a perfect forest of teeth, supported in front on
short legs resembUng two piUars ; this creature is
twenty-nine feet long from the muzzle to the end of
the tail, and twenfy-two feet six inches round its
body. In the same island, but among the cretaceous
beds, the massive iyuanodon and hylceosaurus lie at
the edge of the water, Uzards with thefr backs brist-
Ung with spines, and supported on four legs bigger
than those of the largest elephant. There also swims
the mosasaurus, showing only its immense head above
the surface of the lake ; and farther back sit, as it
were perched upon a rock, the great pterodactyles,
the fabulous dragons of the old world ; chimeras with
folded wings and claw-armed feet, appearing as if to
guard the secrets of ancient nature.
We must now leave the island of the secondary
formations, as we are about entering on another age
of creation. This new era is shown to us in another
island, that of the tertiary formation, in which quite
a different system of animals is grouped. We see
here, as if in a dream, standing up and looking like
Ufe, aU the ancient mammals, the simple fossil re
mains of which so much puzzled the naturaUsts half
a century back; here is the palceotherium with his
frunk, the tapfr of the old world, the common ano-
p

210 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
plotherus, the slender anoplotherus, and farther away,
the megatlierium, like a gigantic sloth, about to tear
do-wn a tree in order to devour the leaves. At last
we come to the proud-looking Irish elks, with their
antlered foreheads, the last representatives of an ex
tinct order of beings, but which gradually bring us
on to the present forms of life, and thus enable us to
connect on the numerous Unks of a past creation to
the great chain of recent animal life.
AU this constitutes, I must confess, a scheme of
geology which is a Uttle romantic, and, perhaps,
theatrical ; but must it not be so, if you wish to im
press the imagination of the masses ? At aU events,
it was a happy idea to place, as it were, side by side
the two great histories — that of the earth as delineated
in the gardens, and that of the human race repre
sented by a very different class of objects in the in
terior of the Palace ; one is to some extent the pre
face to the other. Must we not go back to the long
past vicissitudes of our globe if we wish to ti-ace out
the origin of the actual level of the ocean, the ar
rangement of mountains and vaUeys, the configura
tion of our coasts, and, in fact, aU those features of
physical geography which have exercised so power
ful an influence over ci-viUsation generaUy? Who,
then, could fail to appreciate the link of miion be
tween these phenomena of the ancient world and
the department of the Palace which is devoted to
Natural History and Ethnology ?

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 211
A different method from that ordinarily foUowed
in museums has here regulated the arrangement and
classification of the various forms of Ufe. The inten
tion here has been to group plants and animals in a
geographical order, so as to give a general idea both
of the distribution of organised existence over the
sm-face of the earth, and also of their respective
counfries and the influence exercised by climate.
Although everything in the general aspect of this
phase of nature, compared with that of the ancient
epochs, presents a character of newness, there is one
circumstance — the presence of man — which gives the
impress of a special pecuUarify. This latter being
may perhaps have been contained in germ in some of
the former progressive steps of the animal kingdom ;
but how has he been developed from them ? This is
the great mystery of science ; and the professors at
the Crystal Palace have received no mission to ex
plain it; they are satisfied with demonstrating the
facts, and iUusfrating them in a picturesque shape.
Clumps of shrubs sfretch on the right and left in
the nave, occupied here and there -with groups of
natives belonging to the old or new world. Although
the human species, wherever it is found, offers some
features of identify, stUl we find it divided into races
differing in colour and physical characteristics ; each
of which races seems attached to some one great
di-vision of the terresfrial globe. Thus, for instance,
the Negro lives and is specially developed in the

212 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
countries of Central Africa, where the plants and
animals present a considerable analogy with the Flora
and the Fauna of the ancient geological epochs. The
lowest stage of degradation in the black race is shown
in a group of savages of North Austraha ; their lean
and elongated Umbs, at ffrst sight, remind one of the
proportions of the ape. They are, however, very
little inferior to the family of Bushmen who figure a
little way off; an unfortunate race in South Africa,
who decrease day by day, persecuted by the other
native races and by harsh European colonists. Hav
ing thus traversed the black world, we get to the
Zulu Caffres, with their brown skins, high foreheads,
and more fuUy-developed intelUgence. Proceeding
onwards, we next find the Danakils, leading their
camels to drink : these Abyssinians form the link be
tween the Negro and the Arab. The continent of
America next presents us with her aborigines from
Mexico, her Caribs, and her Botocudos. The islands
of the Oceanic Archipelago bring to our notice a
family of Papuans, who, with their frizzled hafr re
sembUng a mass of tow, partake of the character both
of the Negro and Malay. FinaUy, in Asia, in a group
. of Hindoos belonging to different castes engaged in
tiger-hunting, do we find the germ of our white race.
They have not been satisfied here with placing
ethnology in active operation, as it were, and with
representing the games, the occupations, the favour
ite exercises, and the domestic life of the various

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND, 213
human famiUes, but they have also sought to bring
together those animals which best present to our
eyes the features of the different climates, and with
which the customs of savage life are so closely, and
in so many respects, bound up. The intention was
certainly exceUent, but the carrying out leaves much
to be desired. The greater part of the human phy
siognomies have been, I must confess, moulded and
copied to the very life ; the skins of the various ani
mals have been tolerably well prepared ; and yet the
effect of the ensemble is meagre, and the details them
selves seem sometimes . puerUe and even ridiculous.*
A great English naturaUst, struck with the inade
quacy of these plaster models, asked one day why
they did not infroduce into the Crystal Palace actual
savages of real flesh and blood, and make them ex
hibit to the public representations of thefr hunting
and war. This idea, though, is open to several ob
jections, and would be attended doubtless with many
difficulties ; but England would be better able to put
it in execution than any other nation, on account of
the extent of her relations with everj'- country on
earth. * This remark applies especially to the cave in which it has
been endeavoured to represent, by means of painted canvas, the
eternal ice of the Polar regions ; also the animals of those desolate
regions, and a Greenland fisherman in his canoe. The interest
which attaches to these races of Northern savages increases daily,
however, since some skulls have been found in England which
seem to belong to the same type.

214 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
The portion of the Palace which we have been just
considering has presented to our notice some great
revolutions on the surface of the globe, forming a
series of developments following one another in order
in the gradations of life ; in short, the progress of the
organisation of matter. Are we not thus better pre
pared for comprehending the laws of history? The
primitive races have advanced from barbarism to civi
lisation by a similar series of developments ; social life,
like natm'e, has had its successive formations, and the
different eras of mankind, like the primeval ages of
the earth, have left behind them strata in which lie
hid the curious relics of the past. Each step in the
series of civilisation has its fype, just as in the world
of nature ; and it has been the endeavour here to lay
hold of and resuscitate these types, and to present
them to our contemplation through the monuments
which characterise them, retracing, step by step,
the march of progress, as we find it imprinted on
the architecture and in the arts of extinct nations.
In history, as in science, everything that lives
traces its origin to that which has ceased to be. It
is a glorious dream, which some may have had, to
have been an individual of different epochs and of
departed civihsations ; to have watched the cradle of
new-born communities ; to have taken a part in the
mysteries of ancient Egypt; to have been dazzled
with the gUtter of the age of Pericles ; and finaUy
to have seen antiquity itself fade away, to give place

EELIGIOUS LIFE m ENGLAND. 2l5
to more modem systems. WeU, it is just such a
dream as this that they have here endeavoured in
some degree to embody in a vast assemblage of
monuments and statues. The visitor may be said to
live again amid aU the ages of mankind, through
the power which he has of fraversing in a few hours
the various eras and the renovated forms of succes
sive' communities. Thence proceeds a new mode ot
education, which consists in guiding the mind by
what might be caUed the peripatetic system of uni
versal history.
On the horizon or in the twihght of antiquify,
the dark and gigantic apparition of India opens to
our view. And yet India, especially ancient India,
is but poorly represented in the Crystal Palace. An
omission Uke this can be the less easily explained
from the fact that the EngUsh have so much oppor-
ttmify for studying this country, so mysterious and
so fiiiitful in wonders. The artists might have found
in the Indian Museum, and in an exceUent collection
of photographs of the ancient temples, all the ele
ments necessary for reconstructing a sfyle of archi
tecture now extinct. In the Indian Museum they
might have copied, and then havd grouped in soine
connected system, the strange figures of the Hindoo
gods, the so-caUed incarnations and monsfrous ava
tars, — those abortions of rehgious feeling run wild in
nature. Though ancient India has been neglected, for-

216 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
tunately this has not been at aU the case "with regard
to Egypt This venerable civilisation appears to us
as if coming out of its shroud and made young again
by the ingenious processes of restoration which have
animated and embeUished the ascertained reaUties
without in any way distorting them.* The types
of architecture which have been collected in the
Egyptian Court have not been in every case taken
from any particular ruin; they are rather iUusfra-
tions of various styles, grouped together so as to
give some idea of the development of art in this
mysterious nation. It is not to be expected that, in
the various changes, we shall find the character of
progress so sfrongly impressed as in the history of
edifices belonging to more modem nations. Their
religion was opposed to it ; thefr pefrifying dogmas
had once for all fixed thefr symbols of worship ; the
law of Egyptian art, like that of the entire commu
nity, was simple immobihfy. Mr. Owen Jones has
even formed the idea that it is only in the epoch of
its decadency that we know much of the Egyptian
style ; the era of its grandeur and its perfection has

•' This labour has been singularly facilitated by some recent
discoveries. At the present time, not only the tools are kno-wn
which were made use of by the Egyptian artists, but even the pro
cess of designing which they applied in their sculpture. In certain
sepulchral crypts, which were building during the whole lifetime
of a king, and were left unfinished at his death, there Ijave been
actually found chambers, where the walls, hollowed out of the
rock, had been prepared to receive paintings and sculpture.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 217
been buried with the more ancient Pharaohs ; and it
is only here and there that we discover some remains,
the more beautifiU just in proportion as they can be
traced back to a more remote period of antiquity.
Still less can we trace out the infancy of this art, for
. it is lost in the night of time.
An avenue of lions, modeUed from two specimens
brought from Egypt by Lord Prudhoe (afterwards
Duke of Northumberland) leads us to the outer pre
cinct of a temple — the walls decorated with deep bas-
reliefs and columns. But what is this temple ? Let
us at once state that it bears no resemblance to any
one particular monument which has been discovered
on Egyptian soil; it is, however, acknowledged by
the savants to be an exact representation of the sfyle
which flourished at the epoch of the Ptolemies. As
it was the principal aim of the professors at- the
Crystal Palace to appeal to the senses, and to give a
visible shape to history, they would have entirely
failed in their attempt if they had been satisfled with
merely reproducing soUtary and mutilated fragments
such as one sees in museums of art. In place of this,
it was essential that they should give, as it were, a
soul and body to the Egyptian symbolism ; that they
should restore the ruins ; select and group together, in
a space which was much too confined, just those fea
tures which would convey to the mind of the spectator
the fuUest idea of a civiUsation so remote from our
own. The walls are covered with fantastical and

218 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
coloured flgures, the principal subject of the pictures
being a king who is making offerings to and receiving
presents from the gods. The capitals of the columns
are formed of palm and lotus leaves ; others again
show the papyrus in its various stages of development,
from the bud to the fuU-blown flower. On the frieze .
which is above the columns runs a hieroglyphical
inscription, which announces that "in the seventh
year of the reign of Victoria, the sovereign of the
waves, this Palace was raised and adorned with a
thousand statues, as a book for the use of the men
and women of all nations."
At the sight of this ornamental architecture — just
the same, or nearly so, as might have come from the
chisel of one of the ancient artists with flat noses and
prominent cheek-bones — we are almost tempted to
believe that we are really in Egypt in the days of the
Ptolemies. I entered the court or vestibule of the
temple ; not, however, without commending myself to
two winged globes, the symbolical di-vinities who pro
tect the threshold of the door. There it was that
the multitude were wont to assemble. On the wall
on my right was displayed a grand fresco of the
temple of Rameses Mai Amun, at Medinet Habou,
near Thebes. The warriors are represented as count
ing up the hands of his slain enemies before the king,
the chief of the nineteenth dynasty, who is stand
ing up in his chariot, surrounded by his servants
and fan-bearers ; there were three thousand of these

EELIGIOUS LIFE m ENGLAND. 219
hands, as I learned from the hieroglyphics engraved
on the head of the scribes ; and this number inspired
me, as may be weU imagined, with the most profound
admiration for this great 'and magnificent sovereign-
On my right was the representation of a battle, or
rather of a siege, for the Egyptians seemed just about
capturing a fortress. Turning round, I found myself
facing eight gigantic upright figures, enveloped in
scanty white tunics, with their hands crossed upon
thefr breasts. These statues, with cheeks of a red
hue, opened wide their great black eyes, which seemed
to look fixedly into eternity,
I passed under this sullen-looking -vision of stem
gravity and immovable force, and then, turning to
the left, I found myself in the midst of a very* com
pact colonnade, of a most original and curious appear
ance. Each of the columns represented eight stalks
and eight buds of papyrus bound together, and stand
ing up in the form of a sheaf. I came at last to the
tomb which was discovered at Beni-Assan, hoUowed
out in a chain of rocks which form a barrier to the
east of the Nile, and divide the sandy desert from the
fertile vaUey of the river. This monument belongs to
a very ancient epoch, more than sixteen hundred years
before our era ; it is easy to gather this from the bare
and severe shape of the columns, which form one of
the earliest orders of Egyptian architecture. Why
was it necessary that arrangements, dictated no
doubt by motives not difficult to divine, should have

220 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
SO much altered the original character of this mauso
leum, by removing the obscurity and solemn gloom ?
Without waiting to decide this question, I continued
my course into a chamber ornamented with aU kinds
of bas-reliefs, statues, and paintings ; one of which
represents Rameses II. in the course of mowing off
the heads of his enemies, assisted by the merciful
god Ammon-Ra. I went through various colonnades
of different styles and of different epochs, from that
of the temple of Philoe to that of the temple of Kar-
nac. Some of them had on the top the statue of the
Egyptian goddess of love, represented -with the ears
of a heifer, and called by the Egyptians " the great
cow which brought forth the sun."
I at last discovered in a nook the famous temple
of Abou-Simbel.* But the charm was soon broken
here ; for an English inscription told us that what
we had before our eyes was only a miniature of the
facade of the temple itself, hoUowed out, as it is, in
the side of an old stone quarry. To regain the train
of illusion, it was necessary to go on into another
chamber, or, as it is caUed, into another court.
There, amid an elevated temperature, favom'able to

"' The ruins of this immense edifice were discovered in Nubia
about half a century back, in the sand heaped up by the driving
winds of the desert. Mr. Hay, an Englishman, subsequently under
took considerable labours on the spot, to lay bare the bases of the
statues and of the ancient walls of the temple. Some idea may
be formed of the colossal character of these ruins by examining
the photographs which are in the Crystal Palace,

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 221
the growth of tropical plants, and at the end of an
avenue guarded by a double row of sphinxes, stand
two astounding statues, each being sixty-five feet in
height.* These are the colossal representations of
Rameses the Great, seated in an attitude of passive
majesty which powerfuUy indicates a class of being
superior and insensible to the world which we in
habit. Some other much smaUer statues are intended
for his mother, his wife, and his daughter. The ex
aggerated stature of the former statues express par
ticularly a grandeur of social condition, a nation
absorbed in the State, and a State personified by a
man. Few can faU in understanding here the intention
of the professors of the Crystal Palace in thjis ex
huming and restoring these fossils of history. The
results of such sights as these may not be altogether
science itself, but they induce at least the impres
sions which lead to it. An endeavour has been made,
under the veil of symbols, to reconstitute here one of
the types of primitive civiUsation. The Egyptians
having especially signaUsed thefr sojourn on earth by
enormous and mysterious edifices, which have alike
set at defiance the lapse of time and injuries from
man and the desert, it became needful to turn to
tiieir architecture in the first place, in order to re-

* In the temple of Abou-Simbel, which served as the model for
this imitation, there are four statues of the same size, intended to
multiply the royal person.

222 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
produce some of the grandeur of that which is some
times called the Babelie age of mankind. Thefr art,
like their whole social order, was the product of their
religion ; and the reUgion of Egypt, Uke most of the
ancient systems, was based upon a vast materiaUstic
conception of the outer world. They were the ruhng
laws, or rather forces, of the universe, which they em
bodied in these gods with the faces of an ibis, a tiger,
a jackal, or a crocodile. The immolations performed
in the interior of the temple, under every variety of
form, were exemplified in the State by every kind of
sacrifice ; hence these icy and oppressive figures, in
whom the people worshipped their own annihUation.
In this absolute infiexible order of things, the immo
bility of institutions was shadowed forth in the im
mobility of statues. How, then, did this model of
ancient communities come to be broken up ? Some
naturalists, wearied of atti'ibuting to the docfrine of
cataclysms aU those great changes which have been
-wrought on the earth during the obscm-e night of
the earlier geological epochs, have sought to explain
them by other and more simple causes, — by the vari
ations of the atmosphere and the maturing of new
forms of life upon the globe. And perhaps the day
wiU come when historians also wiU allow less influ
ence to wars and revolutions than to the gradual
and inevitable laws of progress in working out the
decadency of nations. If, by a miracle, some of the
old Pharaohs, buried under the ruins of their ancient

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 223
monuments, could return to light, they would under
stand that there was no longer any place for them in
this modem world of ours, and would calmly close
their eyes, and majesticaUy repose again in their
quiet tombs. These great beings, shadowed forth in
the colossal proportions of sculpture, could be at their
ease in the past only ; borne down by a new state of
things, and by historical changes which they were
forbidden to faU in with, they have been long ex
tinct, having left in the sands of Egypt the evidences
and the monstrous reUcs of their vanished power.
We must, however, remain some Uttie while
longer in the cycle of ancient Oriental civilisations.
On our right stretches the Assyrian Court, where
they have sought, by means of the same processes,
to reconstruct, not any one particular temple, but
the general peculiarities of a long-lost architecture.
And to this end, the discoveries made some years
ago at Khorsabad, in the ancient kingdom of Assy
ria, have been made to contribute. They have em
bodied the labours of those savants and antiquaries
who, to some extent, brought to Ught the palace of
Sargon, successor of Shalmanezer, also the palace of
his son Sennacherib, at Kouyunjik, as weU as those
of Sardanapalus 9,nd Esar-haddon at Nimroud. They
also consulted the explorations and excavations which
have recently laid bare the ruins of Nebuchadnezzar's
palace at Babylon, and those of Darius and Xerxes
at Susa. It was not only the grand proportions, and,

224 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
as it were, the skeleton of this almost fabulous archi
tecture, which reappeared from behind the veil of
sand removed by the hands of the explorers, but even
the most minute details ajid deUcate ornamentation ;
even the remains of painting which has been per
mitted still to give life and colour to some of the
strange creations of Assyrian art. It was certainly
quite a novel and curious attempt, this plan of in
troducing us into the monuments of the Mesopo-
tamian kingdoms during the two centuries which
elapsed between the reigns of Sennacherib and
Xerxes. The work of restoration, or rather representation,
was intrusted to Mr. James Ferguson and Mr. Lay
ard,* who, without at aU sacriflcing the appearance
of truth, have succeeded in uniting, in an imaginary
palace, aU the scattered features of an epoch and
of a civilisation which seemed for ever lost. The
entrance of this palace appears guarded by those
gigantic figures of winged bulls, -with human heads
and black frizzled beards, which, according to Mr.
Layard, represent the three great atfributes of di^vi-
nity, inteUigence, force, and ubiquity. If you are
not frightened away by these monsters and the As
syrian Hercules sfrangling the Uons, you wiU now
enter a large chamber, in the cenfre of which stand

'* The latter scholar and statesman has published a book on
the antiquities of Nineveh, — Nineveh and its Bemmns, — which has
met with great success.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 225
four columns exactly copied fi-om some that were
found at Susa and PersepoUs. The waUs are covered
with sculpture and Cuneiform (or rather arrow-Jiead)
inscriptions, which have been recently deciphered,
and also with paintings and carvings of a religious
character. We must not forget that these palaces
were temples as weU, for the king combined the
ftmctions of high priest and mUitary chief of the na
tion. The ceiUng which is over this chamber pre
sents the general appearance of ceilings as used in ^
this ancient part of Asia ; but it has here principaUy
served as a means for displaying the different modes
of colouring in Assyrian art. At the end of the court
we may notice an arch of rather an elegant form,
and which, by its design, seems to have derived its
origin from a more modem taste than that of the
inhabitants of Assyria ; it is, however, a faithful copy
of a model which was discovered at Khorsabad.
From this haU we pass on into two chambers,
planned so as to give some idea of the arrangement
of the ancient palace, and decorated with mouldings
taken from the bas-reUefs discovered at Nimroud. In
conformify with the customs of the ancient sovereigns
whose dominions we . are visiting, we also find pic
tures representing the chase, war, sacrifices, and aU
the amusements which occupied the leisure of an
Asiatic monarch. In the coUective aspect of its fea
tures, Assyrian art is connected, although with weU-
defined shades of distinction, with the other groups
Q

226 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND,
of ancient civihsations, such as those of India and
Egypt. There is the same oppressive and formidable
symbolism, the same tendency to the exaggeration of
shapes, almost the same hierarchy of gods, half men
and half beasts, aU bearing evidence that the princi
ple of self had not yet been able to detach itself from
the mute and confiised forces which bound it down
to nature. Although ¦wrapped up in different myths,
their religions in every case tended to form a com-
j munity in which the people accepted with bUnd re
signation the necessity of the causes which oppressed
them, and made a worship of their weakness and
their fears.
The visitor, in passing from Egypt and Assyria
into Greece, feels that sort of rehef which he must
have just before experienced in leaving the sfrange
reptiles of the tertiary formation — those nightmares
of the infant earth — and finding himself among ani
mals approaching closer to the present forms of Ufe.
It is like leaving behind the aberrations of fancy
and advancing towards reaUty. To the gloomy epoch
of monsters and dragons, to the suUen immobilify of
sphinxes and gods, to a system of art gigantic in its
character and weighed down by a silent and mystic
religion, there aU at once succeeds the very resplend
ence of beaufy. This change, however, took place
by no means so suddenly in the com'se of history ;
embosomed in the Egyptian architecture we find the
germs and the prototypes which afterwards became

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND, 227
so fruitfid, when developed into beauty by Grecian
art;* it is even probable that this transition' would
appear infinitely less abrupt, if we possessed the pri
mitive monuments which characterised the infancy of
Hellenic genius. The fruth is, that Greece, espe
cially in the beginning, was still bound by certain
religious and poetic ties to the ancient East ; but she
at length succeeded in throwing them off by means
of her more unshackled social organisation, her softer
manners, and her more man-hke gods. One of these
causes of progress would have been more satisfacto
rily pointed out, if the changes of climate could have
been better iUustrated than they have been at the
Crystal Palace.
Mr. Owen Jones, to whom was deputed the task
of decorating the Greek Court, has not followed alto
gether the same plans that were adopted in regard to
Egypt and Assyria. The monuments of Greek art
were more certain and better known ; he has there
fore been content with exhibiting them in groups,
surrounding them with aU the adjuncts which could
assist the iUusion. We enter first under a fagade of
the Doric order into the interior of an agora or
Greek /orwrn, which was used as a market, and also
as a place of meeting for public solemnities. What
is most novel in this somewhat theafrical decoration,
* Thus it is that the straight and unomamented column of the
earliest period of Egypt has served as the primitive model for the
column of the Doric order.

228 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
intended as it is to place on the stage a company of
statues, is the colour with which the principal Unes
of the architecture are painted. These blue, red, or
yeUow surfaces, all blazoned with gold, give, we may
be permitted to believe, a pretty good idea of the
way in which the Greeks understood the ornamenta
tion of buildings. In the interior of this court are
grouped and arranged in. a certain order plaster
statues, moulded from models in the possession of the
principal European museums. Leaving the agora,
we cross a small side-court, the stoa, in which the
¦visitor finds himself standing, as it were, between
the Greek and the Egyptian styles of art, — the
former represented by a colonnade of the Doric
order, the latter by a sloping waU. He can thus
compare the two styles — the harmonious forms with
the passive and colossal figures. A littie farther on,
and we enter the covered atrium, which was gene
rally attached to the agora. Large pillars support a
paneUed ceiling, which has been imitated from one
in the temple of Apollo at Bassa in Arcadia. From
this spot stretches a long gaUery of celebrated sculp
tures, among which we can distinguish the frieze of
of the Parthenon, which Mr. Owen Jones has en
deavoured to re-deUneate, partiy from fancy, and
partly from the guidance afforded by the remains of
Grecian antiquity. At last we come to the Parthenon
itself, which has been reconstructed on the spot,
thanks to the advice and the studies of Mr. Penrose,

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 229

who has been famiUarised by his long sojourn in
Athens and by his deep studies of the subject with
aU the secrets of Grecian architecture. This system
of education by means of objects of Greek art is
addressed to a pubUe, the majority of whom have
never read one line of a Greek poet. Is it not, how
ever, a fact, that up to a certain point a kind of
history of HeUenic art, religion, and society may be
gathered from the ensemble oi the spectacle presented
to us? The figures relating to their reUgion, reduced to
more moderate proportions than those of the Egyp
tian myths — those dark haUucinations of stone which
beset the human brain — sufficientiy indicate the de-
cUne of theocracy. In Greece, in spite of thefr
mysteries and initiations, a great part of their re
ligion was laid open ; heaven seemed to smile, and
the gods appeared august and serene in the Ught of
Olympus; they were indi^viduals and no longer mere
forces of nature. The veil which stiU shrouds the
head of some of their divinities has no longer the
character of impenetrable mystery; it is the peplos,
— a human emblem, a type of the wondrous web
of life which spreads over the course of existence
on the surface of our earth. Man up to this time,
passive in his relations to the universe, liberates
himself at last from the oppressive inaction of the
elements ; acting by means of thought on the outer
world, he modifies it to some extent, and finally

230 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
gathers out of nature the idea of the beautiful. In
place of the symbolical infiexibility of shapes con
secrated by dogmas, and the reUgious conceptions of
the earliest age, which petrified in one invariable
mould aU the attributes of divinity, succeeded gra
duaUy a degree of pliability and fi'cedom of fancy in
the arts. The sculptor's art shook off the imposing
quiescence of architecture; those beings of stone,
offspring of the human brain, which scarcely ven
tured, like children, to try their first step,, soon
assumed, in the highest degree, both movement and
expression : they Uve, they move, they share — ^while
they elevate — our passions, our joys, and our sor
rows. Pascal, when seeking for the distinctive feature
of man's superiority, thought that he had discovered
it in the idea, " that man is the only beuig in crea
tion that is sensible that it suffers." One might
say, somewhat similarly, that Greek sculpture — as, for
instance, in the group of Niobe — first fuUy repre
sented the feeling of grief. Seek for no such evi
dence of weakness from the colossal figures of Egypt,
insensible as the granite from which they are carved.
The Greek nation emancipated themselves just in the
same measure as they . gave more latitude to the
nature of their gods ; for civil and political institu
tions are generally to a great extent shaped by re
ligious ideas. In place of these cavern-like temples,
and these palaces of the East, embodying the fright-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 231
ened slavishness of a nation absorbed by a man or
by a caste, we find in Greece pubhc places where
all classes of society met together and consulted.
We must not be surprised at sudden changes : we
were just now Greeks ; now we are Romans. Many
a one would Uke to be able to shake off his person-
aUfy amid aU tiiese successive fransformations, and
to become, as it were, the chameleon of history.
Now we are walking in the outside part of the
CoUseum, in front of a ¦waU pierced with semi-
cfrcular arches, and ornamented with columns of the
Doric order; this is the entrance of the Roman
Court, inside which is a large apartment, with waUs
painted in imitation of porphyry, malachite, and
those rare marbles ¦with which the Romans loved to
decorate their palaces. Just the same as in the
Greek Court, the visitor passes through a series of
vestibules, where he can study the models of archi
tecture and sculpture. At the first glance, and con
sulting only artistic feeling, one would be tempted
to beUeve that Rome had made a step backward in
the path of civiUsation. In comparison with Greece,
does she not present certain features of barbarism,
which can be traced even through aU the refinement
of the age of Augustus, and amid the cormptions of
the Csesars ? We get rid of this impression, how
ever, when we think over some of her laws and
political institutions, and especially when we recall
the fact, that she first founded the organisation of the

232 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
city, spreading even as far as Gaul the germs of that
liberty which was one day to result in the enfran
chisement of the population of the country.
I think, perhaps, that the greatness of Rome,
under this aspect, is not sufficiently brought into
notice at the Crystal Palace. Was the Coliseum,
with its gloomy motto, " Panem et Cir cense," exactly
the kind of edifice that should have been chosen to
give an idea of a powerful nation ? The Latin race
were primitively of a decided character, and had gods
of their own ; but subsequently, shackled by their
conquests, they more or less assumed the philosophy,
the arts, and the gods of the vanquished nations.
This movement can be traced out in the statues fol
lowing one another in order of time.
Not satisfied with ha^ving thus depicted the his
tory of Rome, from the bright days of the RepubUc
down to the sad array of the Emperors, they have
sought as weU to give us some information as to the
manners and domestic life of the Romans. For this
purpose they have turned their attention to the ruins
of Herculaneum and Pompeii, the cities which were
buried aUve under lava and cmders. As happens so
often in the course of nature, the matter which de
stroyed these to-wns also tended to preserve them.
Although they fully intended to consfruct the model
of a Roman house from the aid afforded them by the
remains which were exhumed at Pompeii, they have
not had any one particular viUa in view. The idea

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 233
has been, to give a model of a complete habitation,
with its courts, vestibules, and arrangement of rooms.
Travellers who have been at Naples assure us that
the imitation is accurately correct.* The entrance is
through a narrow passage, the prothyrum; on each
side a little room is reserved for the porter and the
slaves ; on the pavement you see, inlaid in mosaic,
the representation of a fierce dog, -with the warning
words. Cave canem.^ And now the visitor is quite at
liberfy to fancy himself in his o-wn house, if he can
at aU realise the Ulusion which is intended to be sug
gested. As a Roman of the time of Augustus, he is
now in his atrium, in the centre of which an open
ing made in the roof, — the compluvium, — catches
and turns the rain-water into a marble basin, — the
impluvium. AU around the atrium, he can enter the
sleeping chamber {cubicula), curiously decorated with
mural paintings. AU the rest of the house is equaUy
open to him, — the wings {alee), a kind of nook de
voted to the transaction of business with strangers ;
the tablinum, where it is considered that the family
archives were kept, also the paintings and objects
of art ; the peristyle; the xystus, or flower-garden;
the triclinium, or winter dining-room; the summer

* The paintings have been executed under the superintendence
of M. Giuseppe Abbate, one of the keepers of the Museum at
Naples. f On the doorstep of another side-door there is inlaid a rather
more hospitable motto — Salve,

234 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
triclinium; the vestiarium; the bath-room; the cecus,
or banqueting-room; the thalamus, or bed-chamber
of the master of the house. In going out, he again
reaches the atrium by certain narrow passages
{fauces). The transition from Rome to Granada and its
civilisation certainly seems rather sudden; and yet,
if one takes account more of the natural course of
ideas than of the chronological order of facts, the
religion of the Saracens seems aUied to antiquity by
its dogma of fatalism. Every one would, of course,
guess that the specimen chosen to give an idea of
Moorish architecture would be taken from the Al
hambra. The architecture itself is rather a far sfrag-
gling branch from the main trunk of Byzantine art,
and in this respect may perhaps offer some traces of
a family likeness with the Roman style of architec
ture. We now find ourselves transpoited into the
midst of the thirteenth century, into the famous
CouH of Lions, in the cenfre of which stands a
fountain supported on the animals which gave it its
name. Round the basin of this fountain some Arabic
verses thus celebrate the merit of the artist: " Tremble
not, thou who lookest at these couching Uons ! Life
is wanting to enable them to show their fury." God
knows, however, that the poor beasts have nothing
terrifying about them. This court is enclosed by a
covered gaUery, the columns and arches of which
spring up with a delicate and fanciful grace ; on the

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 235
columns is inscribed this sentence : " God is the
only conqueror." The eye is delighted with the
fairy lightness of the arabesques, formed of flowers
and irregular designs, which entwine . themselves so
as to form a verse of the Koran, and with the bright
and harmonious colours brightening up, with the
help, of gold, this lace-work of stone, as we pass
on into the Hall of Justice, ornamented with three
curious paintings. We have some reason to wonder
at these paintings, representing stags being devoured
by lions, as the Mohammedan religion forbids the art
of representing living objects in nature. But does it
not also prohibit even treading on a morsel of paper,
from a fear lest the name of God mav be written on
it ? And yet this name may be found many times
inscribed on the pavement in this haU. These cir
cumstances have led to the idea, that considerable
discrepancies existed between the Eastern Mohamme
dans and those who were established in the Western
counfries : no doubt the faith of the latter became
somewhat relaxed by their intercourse with Chris
tians. Through the Hall of Justice we gain admission to
the HaU of the Abencerrages. Here especiaUy the
imagination becomes imbued with aU the dreams of
Eastern life ; the dim twiUght which makes its -way
through the ceiling obscured and coloured with all
the tints of the kaleidoscope, the ornamental carvings
which hang on the waUs like stalactites of stucco, the

236 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
rich mosaics, — everything in the haU breathes, as it
were, the mysticism of pleasure. Amid aU these
enervating influences it is not difficult to reaUse to
oneself the life of the Sultans, with thefr romantic
amours, too often alternated with crimes making a
mark in history, and also the manners and habits of
the Arabian and Castiliau chivalry. The Court of
the Alhambra is certainly one of those portions of the
Crystal Palace which leave but Uttie to be desired ;
on these oft-times blood-stained walls, arranged artis-
ticaUy, as they are, for the provocation of sensual
pleasure, one sees plainly written the whole legend
of Moorish supremacy.
Geologists are in the habit of gi^ving the name
of transition epochs to those periods in which the
former forces of nature find themselves opposed by
new forces tending to advance life on the globe, and
in which the surface of our planet was thus agitated
by the oscillations of resistance and of progress.
Something very like this happens in the history of
the human race. We have arrived at the de
cadency of the old communities ; having by de-
gi'ees attained to the crowning type which cha
racterises them : there they seem to stop short as
if exhausted, and impotentiy contend against the
unknown future which must outUve them. The
breath of the new spfrit passed over the nations
and shook them ; ruins were heaped upon ruins ;
unknown races appeared, and spread like a deluge

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 237
over the Roman empfre. Amid aU these convul
sions, it seemed as if the world must go to ruin :
on the confrary, it was about to be restored to a
fresher life.

CHAPTER IX.
Infancy of modern civilisations — Primitive forms of Christian
art — The Byzantine period — The Middle Ages — Memorials of
Catholic England — The Eenaissanoe — Its characteristics in
England — The Elizabethan style — Connection between the
Eenaissance and the Reformation — Services rendered by
Henry 'VIII. to England in separating it from Rome — ^Why
has Cromwell no statue in the Crystal Palace ? — History of
Manufacture poorly shown at the Crystal Palace — Alliance of
the Useful and Fine Arts — The love of utility distinguishes
modern communities — Conclusions to be drawn from the
ensemble of this Temple of History — New system of education
— To communicate ideas by means of external forms — The
Crystal Palace a school of democracy.
The day-star of Christianity had now risen over the
whole ci-vilised world. AU new religions endeavour
to appropriate the fine arts as the surest means for
fascinating the imagination. Christianity, which at
first had despised and repudiated images as being a
sign of idolatry, as soon as she became the conqueror
did not delay in adapting herself to the symbols of
architecture and sculpture. It is not frue that Pagan
art vanished, as if by miracle, before the Cross ; every
one knows nowadays that the Christians took a
vigorous part in the destruction of the ancient gods
and their temples ; the Barbarians completed this
work of demoUtion, out of which, amid tiie ruins,
were to shoot forth the young stems of a renovated

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 239
architecture. At the very moment, in fact, when
the reUcs of paganism were being consigned to the
earth, edifices were being constructed on a new sys
tem which were to take thefr place.
This latter course of events they have endeavoured
to commemorate in the Crystal Palace in the Byzan
tine Court. Over the porch or facade of this court
Mr. Digby Wyatt has coUected, as a sort of intro
duction, the general features of this so eminently
curious epoch. He has turned his attention to the
remains that yet exist, and has succeeded in re-viving,
in an ideal composition, the splendid mosaics, paint
ings, and allegories of the Byzantine period. This
enfrance leads us into a sort of museum, where they
have" been satisfied with reproducing various objects
scattered all over Europe, which are able to give us
some idea of the art of the period. There are frag
ments of cloisters, cathedral porches, recumbent
statues, baptismal fonts, sarcophagi, Irish crosses
wreathed with strange ornaments, and the fountain
of Heisterbach on the banks of the Rhine, in the
Seven Mountains. It seems as if the barbarous na
tions recommenced the infancy of mankind in their
practice of the arts. The spectator, stiU under the
impression of the gloomy monuments of ancient
Egypt, cannot faU to discover certain analogous fea
tures between the sacred style of the primitive East
ern communities and that which flourished in the
west from the 8th to the 13th century. Only here

240 RELIGIOUS LIFE EST ENGLAND.
the interest is for us redoubled ; for it is our o-wn
very ancestors who are now in question, and the
stone swaddling-clothes, so to speak, which wrapped
round the new-born religious thought of modem
nations ; it is our own history we read in the myste
rious shade of the crypt, in the monastic stifftiess of
the statues, in the emblems of an art petrified by
dogmas, and in these tombs and shrines, in which
man, having lived a death-like life, lays down his
head at last so bravely on his cold marble pillow.
The Middle Ages are represented in three courts,
the German Gothic Court, the English Gothic Court,
and the French Gothic Court. The most interesting,
at least to a foreigner, is the court in which have
been collected from all parts of England those monu
ments which characterise the triumph of Christian
spiritualism over the turbulent instincts of the Saxon
race. The idea has been to provide for the English
themselves, at a cheap rate, the materials for an
archaeological journey, as it were, over their o-wn
country. As to those who have actuaUy seen, in
their various localities, these different specimens of
Gothic art, they feel the same sort of pleasure in
seeing them aU classified in a gallery as it is weU
known that the botanist feels when he refraces in his
hortus siccus all his former travels, and renews the
impressions half-effaced by time.
Entering from the nave into the English Mediaeval
Court, the visitor suddenly finds himself in a cloister

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND, 241
of the fourteenth century, in which the forms of the
arches and columns have been taken from Guisbo-
rough Abbey in Yorkshire. From this pleasant and
peaceable cloister, where the footstep resounds on a
pavement of tUes of briUiant and harmoniously min
gled colours, can be perceived detached bits of some
of the most celebrated cathedrals in Great Britain,
but especially the magnificent pointed doorway of
Rochester Cathedral. The most ignorant in archae
ology could not fail to observe the changes which
have taken place in architecture since the Byzantine
period ; everywhere round him the straight Une has
taken the place of the curved one, and he is in the
midst of that which is caUed the Perpendicular or
Pointed style. The Unes of architecture which point
sfraight upwards, the meagre austerify of the forms,
the ascetic attitude of the statues, the sombre melan
choly of the finrowed countenances absorbed in a
wild love of God, — all seems to announce the -victory
of mind over the body.* The ideal in art, as in
human Ufe, pltmges into and is lost in the mysteries
of etemify ; and yet what a ray of almost supema-

¦* This emaciation of the face and limbs, this stiff straining
of the face as if dra-wn up towards something above, in a word,
aU the features of a highly- wrought mysticism, are not so strongly
imprinted on the statues of the Middle Ages in England as in
Germany. The -vigorous Anglo-Saxon race has always resisted
any excess of Catholic mortification,— a terrible word ; for, as
Bossuet himself says, it means death-emsmg— mortem facere, R

242 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.

tural grandeur is shed by thefr simple and unreserved
faith, on the countenances of these Christians sleeping
so well and so easily in their tombs !
In this coUection of objects of medissval art cer
tain detaUs have not been neglected which might give
some idea of the usages in England during CathoUc
times. Thus one pauses wiUingly before the statue
of the "boy-bishop" taken from Sahsbury Cathedral.
It was then the custom for a bishop to be chosen'
every year among the choristers ; he enjoyed through
the year all the privileges of a prince of the Church,
and if he happened to die whUe holding his office, a
monument was erected to him : hence arises this re
cumbent statue, which recaUs rather a touching idea.
There is scarcely an educated Englishman, however
good a Protestant he may be, who does not sometimes
love to carry back his imagination to these days of
so-caHed popish idolatry ; for if these legends in stone
do somewhat clash -with the good sense of the Refor
mation, at aU events they foster in him a sentiment
of poetry. At first, perhaps, the Church of England
did well in hating and despising images ; but after
she was ffrmly grafted on a trunk weU primed by the
axe of the first iconoclasts, she did not faU to save and
preserve all that was left of the vestiges of Gothic
art. When I was at the Cathedral at Bristol, some
of the venerable canons seemed much pleased to show
me several of the old monuments of superstition,
which they were about to have repafred, quite with

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 243
feeUngs of attachment to them. One desfroys only
what one fears, and reUgious reform in England has
no longer anything to fear from the past.
Scientific men have given the name of eocene to
the beginning of the last geological period, that is,
to the dawn of modem creation. This same da-wn
breaks also, with different attributes certainly, but
with a not less vivid Ught, when we pass from the
''long enthralment of the Middle Ages to the splen
dours of the Renaissance. What a rich growth of
form is here ! what a joyous claim is put forward
by nature, beforetime so absolutely humiliated and
annihilated by the dogmas of religion !
This festival of the resurrection of art and anti
quity is commemorated in the Crystal Palace in three
courts : the Renaissance Court, the Elizabethan Court,
and the Italian Court. The plan adopted differs but
Uttie from the one which has been before foUowed ;
the idea has been to work into an ingenious system
of decoration the chef s-d' ceuvre oi Jean Goujon, of
Lorefrzo Ghiberti, of Germain Pilon, of Michael
Angelo, and of other weU-kno-wn artists. The choice
of monuments has been a happy one, and the visitor
wanders with deUght through a glorious epoch, aU
the richest beauties of which have been gathered to
gether around him, and the free of art has been, as it
were, shaken, to throw at his feet aU its choicest
fruits. We wiU pause at the Elizabethan Court
only, which naturaUy presents the most national

244 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
character, and a style of architecture which is less
kno-wn in France. This phase of art was of but
short duration in England; ha-ving burst out in all
its glory towards the latter half of the sixteenth
century, this peculiar style, to which Queen Ehza
beth gave her name, passed away about the begin
ning of the seventeenth, driven out by the progress
of the Itahan school in England. There are, how
ever, many who regret it. Certainly^ from its mas-''
sive character, it was not wanting in a certain
palatial grandeur, and it had, above aU, the merit
of originaUty. With its stonework curiously carved
with the chisel, its architectural masses, which in
their ensemble stiU retain some features of the style
which was in aU its glory in the Middle Ages, al
though differing in its detaUs and ornamentation,
roughly imitated from antiquity, it suited very weU,
not only to the days in which it flourished, but also
to the country itself, and the materials which the
latter furnished for the art of building. The castles
and manor-houses of this period, buUt of red brick
faeed with boldly-carved stonework, -with their
deeply-set, sfrongly-fashioned windows, and lofty-
clusters of ornamented chimneys, stiU produce, when
seen through the grand old frees, an imposing and
picturesque effect. The architectural details intended
to illustrate the style of the time of Elizabeth have
been taken from HoUand House, one of the most
curious buildings in London. Those who planned

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 245

the arrangements at the Crystal Palace have not
been satisfied with setting forth the history of art by
visible records only, but have also endeavoured, as
we know, to caU back to life past ages, and thus
immerse, as it were, the spectator in the recoUections
and influences which they awaken. What age can
be better adapted than Queen Elizabeth's to appeal to
the feelings of the EngUshman? Do they not find
in this period the most romantic and heart-stirring
pages of their annals and their brightest names in
literature ? To assist the delusions of memory, they
have assembled together various historical figures
and works of art ; such as the tomb of the Countess
of Norfolk and her sons, the original of which is
in Salisbury Cathedral ; the monument of Sir John
Cheney; that of Mary Stuart ; and finally, the bust of
Shakespeare, copied from his tomb in the church at
Sfratford-on-Avon. The period of the Renaissance is also dear for other
reasons to the heart of the English ; and they connect,
and rightly so, the rise of the religious reformation
with the revolt of the fine arts against the Church,
with the discovery of printing, and with the hearfy
study of Greek and Latin hterature. It was in the
exploration of antiquity that erudition, guided, it is
true, in some paths, by the lamp of religious faith,
has, as is said, recovered the Bible. People may
dispute, and they are free to do so, as to the origin
of Protestantism in England, and as to the motives.

246 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND,
more or less honourable, which gave rise to it; but
there is one fact which no one can gainsay. By
separating from Rome, Henry VIII. cut the cable
which connected Great Britain with the Continent;
and it is especiaUy from the date of this restiess and
froublous time that the EngUsh nation first began to
develop its character, its institutions, and its moral
and physical independence of the bonds of foreign
orthodoxy. It became then the question, after the
Renaissance Court, to sum up the unity of the British
people in one important monument.
This monument, to some extent the work of ima
gination, and executed from the plans of Mr. Digby
Wyatt, stands at the very end of the nave; it is a
complete gallery of the kings and queens of Eng
land, from the days of the Saxon Heptarchy do-wn to
the Norman dynasty, and after that, to the reign of
Victoria. In this long series, where monarch suc
ceeds monarch in chronological order, standing one
over the other with some of the principal features of
thefr epoch, one figure has been a source of consider
able embarrassment to the artists whose task it was
to thus inscribe in stone the annals of their nation ;
could they admit among the kings him who was the
means of cuttmg off the head of Charles I. ? That
great man, who has not yet received a monument
in Westminster Abbey, — could he stand up, in his
great loose boots, his sword by his side, and his hat
on his head, among the representatives of an institu-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 247
tion which he did his best to destroy ? And yet, on
the other hand, would not his absence leave an im
portant gap in history ? i Do not Englishmen, even
the most devoted to monarchical views, trace back to
him the organisation of their army, the extension of
their commerce, and the excellence of thefr fleets?
After some deliberation by the committee, the statue
of Oliver CromweU was excluded from the royal
monument ; but it would naturally takie its place in
the gallery of celebrated men. In front of this array
of sovereigns, there has been arranged, down the
whole length of the nave and transepts, busts or
statues of great generals, statesmen, authors, scholars,
and phUosophers, belonging both - to England and
every other country. These latter show the bright
Une of succession to the throne of thought, and the
glorious lineage of human sciences..
Here concludes the iUusfrated history of art ; it
was doubtiess necessary to begin with this, for an
cient communities have generally sought the beau-
tiftil in preference to the useful. In the Greek
mythology, the haughfy Juno blushed that she had
been the mother of Vulcan, the representative of
manual labour. In Rome the mechanical professions
were always carried on by slaves. It is a charac
teristic of modern nations that they have brought
with them into the various counfries of Europe a
new and aggressive power — I mean manufactures.
This force was not developed to any extent in the

248 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Middle Ages, repressed as they were by the military
and priestly rdgime, and it is subject to quite another
law than the appreciation of the beautifiil. Art
among the Greeks, after a short but inevitable term
of infancy, arrived at a pitch of perfection which has
never been surpassed. In the successive gaUeries at
the Crystal Palace, aU representing various epochs,
it is more variations of form that a visitor meets with
than any real progress ; but this would not at aU be
the case with manufacture. Offspring of science, na
ture, and freedom of thought, she every day advances
with the increasing domain embraced by human know
ledge. It would therefore, I think, have been both inter
esting and instructive to have coUected together at
the Crystal Palace the elements of a phUosophical
history of labour. Was there no room there to do
for manufacture what they had afready so success
fully effected in respect of the fine arts ? It would
have been rather interesting to haVe watched the
process of the separation of the working class from
the races of chivalry, to see the useful professions
take their rise, and trades and inventions succeeding
one after the other. What nation could be better
fitted than England to reproduce in actual representa
tions what is caUed by one of her writers the genesis
of the useful arts ? The visitor to the Crystal Palace
passes, without any fransition whatever, from the
monuments of the Renaissance into the fuU display

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 249
of modem ingenuify. It may be very possible that
the revival of the fine arts was not disconnected with
the development of manufacture ; but stiU I think it
would have been weU to show the bonds of union
which connect these two classes of things. Be aU
that as it may, we can perceive clearly enough, one
after the other, the three great ages of history, — the
priestly era, the miUtary era, and the industrial era ;
which last wUl always surely limit the authorify of
the two former ancient powers by widening the sphere
of the people's influence.
In the ornamentation of the Industrial Courts ano
ther plan has been foUowed ; and instead of endeavour
ing to give an idea of the various epochs, they have
sought to specify and iUustrate the local character
of the different branches of manual labour. We do
not now range about through former times, exploring
the relics of departed civUisation, and the records of
long-past ages ; our path now Ues through the great
manufacturing districts of modem geography. Thus,
for instance, in the Birmingham Court, Mr. Tite has
chosen, as means of decoration, iron-work as applied
to architecture. The design of the iron lattice-work
or screen, with its rich foliage and convolutions,
belongs to the seventeenth century; but this work
serves to point out one of the recent changes which
have taken place in the art of metal-working. In
former day-s, iron ornaments were fashioned or
wrought by the hammer; now they are cast in a

250 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
mould. It is a recognised fact, that the latter method
is much better adapted than the former to the damp
climate of England, as cast-iron rusts very much less
than, wrought. Unfortunately, this beautiful court
is like a frame without a picture. To those who
have visited the town of Birmingham and its rich
workshops, the court which bears its name wUl seem,
alas, but very meagrely furnished. It has generaUy
been found rather difficult to induce the great English
manufacturers to form a permanent exposition of thefr
productions. A step further on, and we are in Shef
field. The famous cify of forges and workshops is
represented, naturaUy enough, by specimens of cut
lery, steel implements, and imitation jewefry. An
other court has been devoted to articles of stationery
generally. On the carved wooden panels which de
corate the interior of this court there are medaUions
in which are represented Cupids engaged in the
various mechanical processes of paper-making, print
ing, and engraving. Can this be an aUusion to St.
Valentine's day, and the intervention of these arts
which then takes place in love affafrs ?
Each of these courts ought to be a school of in
struction, as weU as a bazaar ; one ought to be able
to foUow out in them all the various transformations
that the raw materials employed in manufactures are
made to undergo by the hand of man. But is this
the case ? The directors of the Crystal Palace have
certainly desired to exhibit all the riches of modern

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 251
ingenuity, from those real achievements which inte
rest the thoughtful man, down to the toys and fancy
objects which amuse the child ; but still, up to the
present time, they have not taken much pains to ini
tiate the curious into the mysteries of manufacture.
They might, however, have fomid in this a branch of
instruction weU capable of development, and also an
element of material success ; for the Anglo- Saxon
race is never much moved by the world of mere
ideas, but, on the other hand, a drop of the blood, of
Prometheus courses through thefr veins whenever
operations of manufacturing sldU are in question.
We now pass in succession through the Oriental
Court, where they show, as a matter of course, the
products of the Levant ; the Bohemian Court, where
the specimens of glass-ware are displayed ; and'we
shaU wiUingly pause at the Ceramic Court, where the
artist, workman, and antiquary wiU find, each from
his own pecuUar point of view, many objects most
interesting to him. Mr. Battam has brought toge
ther in this rich coUection aU kinds of specimens
showing the progress of the art of the potter from
the days of antiquity do-wn to our own time. We
see here vases which might have adorned the table
of Verres, dishes and plates from which the Medici
may have dined, jeweUed cups out of which the court
of Louis XIV. may have drunk at Versailles. We
may also remark here Mexican, Greek, and Etmscan
vases, Chinese porcelain, and other curiosities which

252 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
form an instructive contrast with the productions of
Messein, Se-vres, Berlin, Vienna, and Worcester. The
progress in this branch of industry (but is it not the
same in every other branch ?) has chiefly consisted in
increasing the means of production, and varying the
nature of the articles produced, so as to bring them
readily within the reach of everyone. The working ^
classes visit with some profit the Court of Machinery
in Motion, where thousands of bobbins are revolving,
and where the ponderous machines groan under the
goading impetus of steam, where the carding combs
tear, without cessation, either wool or cotton, with
thefr pointed teeth. The counfryman soon makes his
way to the court devoted to agricultural implements.
A more general interest, however, attaches to the
Court of Inventions, where all useftd discoveries, all
the dreams of science mechanicaUy applied, find, as
it were, a right of citizenship.
We find, then, that the estabUshment at Syden
ham is divided into two quite distinct portions — a
temple of arts, and a palace of indusfry. Both these
two divisions keep closely to the views of the found
ers ; if man elevates his ideas by the pursuit of the
beautiftil, he unfetters himself from the chain of ma
terial wants by the achievements of labour and the
help of machinery. In natural history, the latter
epochs of the earth have been impressed by a pecu^
liar stamp by the entry on the scene of various useful
spedies, from which men have deduced the stock of

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 253
our domestic animals. Why should we not believe
that something of the same sort has taken place,
though in a different point of view, in the history of
mankind ? Why should it not be the case, that the
first appearance in our communities of the indusfr-ial
classes marks the starting-point of the great progress
in modem times ? FinaUy, the division of the Crys
tal Palace which is appropriated to manufactures,
frade, and machinery, is visited with just as much
partiahfy as the scries of monuments of art, although
it is by a different class of the population. I have
noticed EngUsh workmen stopping in the former de
partment the entfre day, much to the displeasure of
thefr wives, who would have Uked to have had a look
at the fountains playing, or at some of the fancy
commodities, or at the dehghtftil arabesques of the
Alhambra. These men, though, were certainly an
exception ; for workmen in general manifest astonish
ment mingled with admiration at the statues, the re
stored relics of architecture, the temples, the palaces,
and aU the great historical phantasmagoria which
recall to -view the features of past ages and extinct
communities. The visitor is now at the place of departure — that
enfrance to the Crystal Palace at which man is re
presented in a savage state, just as he came out of
the hands of nature. If this was the primitive con
dition of the human race, it is interesting to cast a
last look down the long nave, iUusfrating, both right

254 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
and left, the train of progress which has raised him
from his original abject state. In this grand ideal
spectacle we see race succeed to race, and communi
ties dividing off from one another with their various
types, aU approaching perfection the farther they are
removed from their infant state. We aU assist, as it
were, in the metamorphoses of social life ; man ob
tains stone from those mighfy rocks which build up
the architecture of our globe, and he communicates
to it the attributes of his religious faith, and the ideal
of his political itistitutions. He -wrenches from nature
the secrets of her laws, and the materials which she
has hidden away in the grudging bosom of the earth,
and from them he evolves the rudiments of the useful
arts. Not content with operating on the future of
his destinies, one might almost venture to say that he
has re-made himself. Compare the Hottentot woman
with the Venus of Milo, and you will find it difficult
to doubt that beaufy also has not made progress in
the development and modification of races.
In each different community, the active, ruUng
principle of mankind seems varied; progress ceases
in certain things, and is engrossed by new creations
of thought. There are dark intervals, eclipses, gloomy
times of fransition, during which the veil of death
seems to be descending over the world ; everything
suffers, but everything revives, and one can after
wards detect the fraces of the movement of thought
which at length opened out a path amid tiie nuns.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 255
But that which has always increased, and is always
increasing, is the feeling of right, and the love of
liberty ; a conception worthy of the Almighfy, and His
relations with nature. This spectacle is a noble one,
and a religious one ; far from intoxicating man with
a false pride, it teUs him that fruth, Uke comfort, can
only be got at by the sweat of the brow.
I am not at aU astonished that the Crystal Palace
has been chosen several times as the best place foi^
celebrating the birthdays of some of our great poets,
such as SchiUer and Bums. What temple can be
more fitting for doing honoiu: to their memories
than that in which mankind celebrate their own
struggles and their own changes ? Is not this buUd
ing at once a book, a poem, a history ? Even the
new system of architecture which it inaugurates can
not fail to impress the spectator. What an amazing
difference between this fransparent hive, sheltering
the labours of centuries, and the ancient Egyptian
temples hoUowed out at the side of some rocky moun
tain ! It reaUy seems as if matter itself had wished
to exalt and idealise itself, in order the better to re
ceive in these latter days the impression of the will
of man. In one word, it needed a Palace of Glass.
Does not this edifice contain also the germ of a
new plan of education ? AU the Enghsh physiolo
gists are agreed that too much dependence has been
placed on memory in the insfruction of youth. By
imposing on tho mind of childhood a system of ready-

256 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAJ^D.
made knowledge, of which it can too often compre
hend the words only, do we not desfroy in the bud
its unfettered judgment, its faculty of reasoning for
itself, both the taste and the desire for depending on
its own impressions of things ? Do we not graft on
the trmik of its mind the living bud of false conven
tional ideas and generally-received opinions ? Many
persons attribute to this plan of procedure the too
common fund of general mediocrity, the sUght re
sistance offered nowadays to arbifrary conclusions,
and a kind of fear of exercising for oneself the powers
of decision. The object seems rather to adorn the
mind, than to invigorate its resources and sharpen its
weapons. Is there not plenfy of room for a change,
by substituting, at least in part, a practical education
by means of things and facts ? Can it not be brought
about that an individual should direct his course, just
as the whole race of men have frodden out for them
selves paths, leaning for guidance with one hand on
nature, and the other. on fradition? To help in this
research, by placing on the road both the materials
of science and the monuments of history — this would
be the future task of the fraternity of instructors.
The Crystal Palace may be looked upon as an at
tempt, a first step in this new direction.* The prac-

* A ladies' school has been recently attached to the establish
ment. For two or three guineas a quarter each pupil can attend
a course of lectures, enjoying at their will all the intellectual riches
of the Palace, and having the use of a library or reading-room.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 257
tical mind of the English has been long convinced of
the nothingness of certain notions, as short-lived as
the words that convey them. Real knowledge can
only be grafted on the mind of a child, as on the
mind of a nation, by the intervention of actual im
pressions. This is the reason why they have sought,
by a thus plastic course of study, to interest the
senses in inteUectual pleasures, and, by the sight of
external objects, to inspire a taste for reading and
thought. "The fruit of the free of knowledge," says
the Bible, " was pleasant to the eyes ;" and it is by
the fascinations of form that we must seek to aUure
the masses to enlightenment. By placing before the
eyes, as in au'ever-recurring drama, the history both
of creation and of mankind, do we not furnish the
spectator with means for fracing out for himself and
Unking together aU those eternal laws which rule
over the organisation of matter and the development
of communities ? Some believers, perhaps, wiU find
fault, that they have not clearly enough marked out
that which Bossuet calls " the fraces of the finger of
God." These traces, and indeed the whole divine
and pro-vidential plan of history, can readily be dis
covered by the conscience of each spectator, under
the veil of events, of natural laws, and of the deve
lopments of mankind.
Do not institutions like this — ^to which our neigh-
oomposed of five thousand volumes of works, written principally
upon the Fine Arts. S

258 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
hours intentionally give the title of Palaces of the
People — teach us something as to English society ?
Do they not give a startiing denial to those false
ideas so commonly spread abroad on the French side
of the Channel ? Great Britain has been too readily
represented as an aristocratic nation ; if we were to
believe certain writers, Uberty is only preserved in
England by its being based on a rigid division of
classes, on the grandeur of a secular nobility on the
one hand, and on the abasement and ignorance of
the multitude on the other. If such were really the
essential conditions of liberty, they would, long hesi
tate before they adopted her banner. HappUy, it is
the exact contrary which is true. I do not deny but
that the English follow after and honour their social
hierarchy ; but they look to their hberfy for Umiting
the weight of certain influences, and for elevating,
by enlightening, thefr most numerous classes.
Where else would you find palaces of education
built, not by the action of the Government, but by
the money of voluntary contributors ? In what other
country could the workman have at his disposal his
fountains, like those of Louis XIV. at VersaiUes, his
park aU peopled with statues, and his pleasure-palace
where, for one shiUing, he can walk about with his
wife and children, amid all the splendours of art, and
all the teachings of history ? The most absolute mon
arch would have hesitated at the expense of giving
so princely a course of education to his only son. I

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 259
shaU be told that the working classes are not the
only ones to profit by these advantages. No, doubt
less ; this palace has been built /or all; but 0, it is a
Uberal idea, thus joining together aU classes of so
ciefy, from the peer to the bricklayer, on the neufral
ground of general insfruction and high-minded re
creation. Governments who dreaded the people
would not have acted thus ; they would more readily
have opened to them the broad path of coarse and
physical pleasures, weU knowing that a besotted mul
titude is aU the easier to be led. The Coliseum and
the taverns of Rome were a necessity for the C^sars.
Liberty is more moral ; as she claims the honour of
reigning over the mind alone, she willingly opens up
to the million the prospect of the ideal and the paths
of progress. The Church of England has herself set the ex
ample of connecting education with religion ; she
cannot therefore wonder if science, philosophy, and
the fine arts, have thought proper to bring together,
as the elements of their moral creed, the traditions
of mankind, the lessons of facts, and the aspirations
of free thought. Let us now, however, hasten to re
turn to the subject of Religious Life more properly
so caUed.

CHAPTER X.
Religious life in foreign missions — Ubiquity of England — Her
moral conquests in the regions not under her sway — The
Bible Society — Stereo-typography — ^The confusion of tongues
— DifSculties met with in translating the Bible into the
ancient Eastern dialects — William Wilbevtorae^- Colporteurs
— The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign
Parts — The Church Missionary Society — The Baptist Mis
sionary Society — Museum of the London Missionary Society —
A god eaten by rats — A new idol, manufactured by Christians
— The Wesleyan Missionary Society.
We must turn our eyes across the seas to find Eng
land's chiefest glory. Her power Ues in her ubiquity.
Without mentioning her estabhshed colonies, what
country, whether tropical or ice-bound, can evade the
adventurous spfrit of her emigrants? Where is the
coast unvisited by her ships ? Material force would
be found of but little avail in protecting such an
aggregate of poUtieal and commercial interests. The
cannon of her war-ships, however numerous and
powerfid the latter might be, would certainly fail in
enforcing respect to the Queen's flag floating over
every sea. England, therefore, has long since had
recourse to a system of moral influence in order to
estabUsh the unity of her empfre from pole to pole.
One of the least-known elements of this system is the

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 261
plan of religious propagaiidism. They endeavour by
a community in faith to assimilate to their own type
those nations which they might vainly think of con
quering by force of arms. Protestant missionaries
have been the instruments, all over the world, of a
conquest in which nothing is due to military enter
prise, but which often opens out a path for the inter
vention and ultimate supremacy of the Anglo-Saxon
race. Thanks to these champions of the faith, Eng
land now reigns over many territories which she
never conquered, and her spiritual weapons have car
ried her on far in advance of her warlike banners. In
every country, even the most remote, she dissemi
nates a Book as her representative and ambassador.
Whenever any reaUy national work is set about
in England, it is not the Government but society at
large which takes it up. We must, therefore, not be
surprised to find that the foreign missions are sup
ported by the, free donations and the independent
efforts of the various religious bodies. The principal
energies and appliances for this great proselytising
movement are, of course, concentrated in London;
and there, at their starting-point, must we contem
plate these Christian travellers, before we accompany
them on their dangerous mission.
One of the districts of London which has been the
most turned upside down by the opening of the new
lines of railway, and by the construction of the em
bankment on one of the banks of the Thames, is, with-

262 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
out question the neighbourhood of Blackfriars. The
river there, diverted from a portion of its natural bed,
and narrowed by an artificial bank, on which cart
loads of earth are every moment being unloaded, is
besides crossed by three bridges at intervals of not
many yards. Oiie of these three bridges, based on
cast-fron columns, affords a way to the monsti'ous loco
motives, roUing like thunder as they run over it ; the
second, made of wood, gives to foot-passengers- and
carriages a temporary means of crossing to the other
bank ; while of the third, nothing can as yet be seen
but some stout granite pillars just rising above the
surface of the water. Not far from the scene of aU
these operations and of this Babel-like confusion,
branches off a little street, caUed Earl-street, which
also wiU have to imdergo considerable changes. It
is expected that the hne of embankment now being
constructed will send on an immense amount of traffic
towards the city ; and to open a way for this new tide
of men and carriages the Mefropolitan Board of Works
have lately resolved to make a long wide street to
connect the new bridge at Blackfriars with the Man
sion-house. In order to facilitate the course of this
new artery of communication, half of Earl-street wiU
have to be puUed do-wn. After aU, there is not much
to regret in this sti'eet ; there is, however, among
the buildings doomed to desfruction, one which well
deserves our attention.
On the outside, it is simply a large brick house.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 263

ha-ving nothing very remarkable about it ; but over
the doorway we read Bible Sodety. There, for more
than half a century, a committee has sat whose in
fluence has more or less made itself felt to the very
ends of the earth. The Bible Society is one of the
great citadels of EngUsh Protestantism ; in place
of artiUery it has its printing presses, from which
books emanate by millions, printed in a hundred and
sixty-nine different languages, and in every variety
of type. Inside, it is taken up with counting-houses,
warehouses, rooms for meetings, and a library of a
sacred character, containing 5000 volumes and ma
nuscripts. The history of this institution is closely
bound up with the annals of religious propagandism
in Great Britain, the English colonies, and even in
those remote isles which ships seldom touch at.
The Bible Society was founded in 1804. The 7th
of March, in that year, a meeting took place at the
London Tavern ; about 300 persons attended ; and a
sum of about 700Z. was soon collected for the pur
pose of increasing and encouraging the circulation of
the Bible. jrNo sooner was it established than the
Society at once went to work ; and in 1805 it sent
forth into the world a first edition of the New Testa
ment in English. About this time the art' of stereo
typing, which had been long known in Europe, but
up to that period had been found not feasible in
practice, made great progress in England under the
direction of Earl Stanhope and Robert Wilson, the

264 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
engineer. This process was the means of rendering
important services to the Bible Society, by enabling
it to multiply copies cheaply, so as to seU them at a
very low price.* '
The number and variefy of dialects caused a con
siderable degree of complication in the task of the
Society. Only to mention their own comitry, there
are five distinct languages in the British isles, — the
Welsh, the ancient Irish or Erse, Gaelic, Manx,f
and Enghsh. It was necessary to translate the Bible
into all these idioms before printing it. The diffi
culty, of course, became much greater when the
Society directed its efforts towards the continent of
Europe, and most especially so when the other parts
of the world were in question. What a multiplicify of
various indications of thought ! how many languages
are there of which one does not even know the name,
and letters which seem to defy the human intellect !
The Society, nevertheless, triumphed over aU these
obstacles ; and either the whole Bible or portions of it
are, at the present day, printed in fourteen Polyne-
 P
* After a Ibng trial, the process of stereotyping has been, in
great part, relinquished. The Society at present prefers another
plan. They have the whole book composed, and keep the leaden
type fixed, or in form. It has been considered that in this way
type wears out less quickly, and that errors in printing are easier
to correct. This process requires, it is true, a considerable ex
pense at the commencement ; but it is the most economical in the
end. t A Celtic dialect peculiar to the Isle of Man.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 265
 .  5 
sian dialects, in nineteen African idioms, and in fif
teen primitive languages of the New World. Who
would not be puzzled at the very sight of Chinese
writing, as hieroglyphical and impenetrable as the
civilisation of that mysterious people? 'Well, so
great is the facility which the EngUsh have latterly
acquired in printing books in Chinese, that a trans
lation of the New Testament, which used once to
cost two guineas, can now be sold for threepence
hal^enny in the shops at Pekin. In India, there
was another vfrgin forest for them to cut into ; but
to do this satisfactorily, it was necessary to master
some very difficult idioms. One of the members of
the Society, to whom was committed the task of trans
lating the Bible into Tamil (the language spoken by
nearly 12,000,000 of the inhabitants of India), had
studied it for twelve years, and another one, fourteen
years, before undertaking this delicate task. One of
the greatest obstacles which the translators of the
sacred volume have had to contend with is the in
sufficiency of religious expressions amid the poetical
richness of tiie Oriental languages. The words are
wanting, because the ideas which they should ex
press are quite unknown to certain races of man
kind.* In spite of all this, the Society have suceess-

* One instance -will suffice, I think, to point out the nature of
this difficulty. Mr. Thompson, a, missionary who was commis
sioned to translate the Scriptures into Thibetian, some time back,
complained that he could find no word in this language which

266 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
fidly carried out their plans with regard to about
forfy dialects which fiourish in India and Ceylon.
The total number of translations amounts to 207, and
since 1804 the institution has disseminated in the
world more ihan forty -six million copies of the Bible.
The management of the Bible Society rests in a
committee composed of thirty-six laymen. Among
these influential members, six are foreigners residing
in London or its environs, the remainder are Eng
hsh, and divided into two equal moieties, one belong
ing to the Church of England, and the other to' the
various Christian Dissenting bodies. The committee
meet regularly at the Society's house the first and
third Mondays in each month. The committee itself
nominates a president, vice-president, and secretaries,
all of whom have the right of voting, as also any
members of the clergy of the Church of England, or

answered to the idea ot justice, " I have also sought in vain,"
he added, "for a word by which, to designate conscience." The
translator was obliged to employ a periphrase — •" tlie distinguish
ing betmeen good and evil." The case is the same in the terms,
spirit, vision, trance, to judge, to condemn, to reooncile,-^a\\ of
which have no equivalents in the idioms of Thibet. The trance of
the Orientals, for instance, is a difEerent kind of phenomenon to
that among Christians,— the natural and voluntary transport of
the soul out of the world of sense. Death itself, as a substantive
and the equivalent of a fact, has no existence among the Thi-
betiaus ; they only recognise things that are dead. Mr. Thompson
made inquiries among the lamas, the scholars of the country ;
but all he could gather from them only served to show more
clearly how great a difference existed between their mode of
thought and ours.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 267
any of the Dissenting ministers who wish to take a
part in the meetings. Among their ¦vice-presidents
was the celebrated WiUiam Wilberforce, who, in
1803, was instrumental in passing the Act of ParUa
ment for the abolition of slavery in aU the Enghsh
colonies. The committee then held a meeting to
testify to him their satisfaction at this great measure.
AU the authorify is primarily derived from the an
nual meeting, which is held on the 1st of May, and
at which all the members of the Society have a right
to attend. The committee itself, as weU as the trea
surer, are elected by this meeting, before entering on
their duties, and the accounts and the report are then
sanctioned. In order to become a member of the
Sociefy, it is necessary to pay one guinea a year;
those who pay do^wn ten guineas at once are life-
members. The principal sources of revenue are subscrip
tions, legacies, donations, and the collections in the
various churches, chapels, and schools. The opera
tions of the Society are assisted also by the concur
rence of the Auxiliary and Branch Societies, which
number 3887 in the United Kingdom, and 1059 in
the colonies and other English dependencies. The
members of these auxiliaries very often pay no more
than a penny a week; but tiny rivulets joined to
gether form great rivers. In 1804, the new-born
uistitution coUected only 640Z. ; its annual receipts
now amount to more than 160,000^. The Branch

268 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Societies furnish them, in addition, with allies in
every inhabited country. The old house in Earl-
street, whence the Bibles wing their way, is known
even among the savages in the Fejee Islands. En
dowed with almost incalculable powers of expansion,
this Society embraces the whole world. It may weU
give to its work the epithet of Catholic.*
In 1845, the Bible Society adopted a system of
colportage, which very much helped to extend the
sale of their books. These colporteurs, or book-
hawkers, form quite a distinct class among the Eng
lish population. They are especially to be met with

* In reference to these great exertions to spread the Scriptures,
is it not natural to ask how this English Bible was formed, which,
at the present time, serves as prototype to almost all the trans
lations which are being made into foreign languages? From the
time of Wyoliffe down to the reign of James I., England had no
generally accredited version of the Holy Scriptures. James I., to
supply this want, selected fifty-four learned men who were distin
guished in this class of study. Forty-seven of them set to work.
They were divided into six independent classes, to each of which
a portion of the work was assigned. Each person had to produce
his translation, and submit it to a council of his colleagues. When
a class was agreed upon the version for any portion of the book,
this version was communicated to all the other classes, so that
each fragment received the sanction of the entire body. Their
labour lasted for three years — from 1607 to 1610. The first copy
proceeded from the printing-press of Eobert Barker in 1611. The
study of the Oriental languages was not then in a very advanced
stage, and many of these scholars, who were officially nominated,
were doubtless wanting in critical acumen. Their translation of
the Bible, accepted as it is both by the Established Church and
the Dissenters, is not, however, on this account thp less recognised
as one of the monuments of English literature.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 269

in the hop-gardens at the season of hop-picking, at
the fairs, markets, and other places of public resort.
At Newcastle, at the Royal Agricultural Show in
1864, one of them set up near the show-place a
Uttle tent in which people might take refuge in case
of rain. He took advantage of this plan to offer his
goods, and succeeded, in seUing 1449 copies of the
Bible. Others choose steamers or the docks for
thefr sphere, of operations ; and in the year 1864,
4807 bibles were bought, thanks to the energy of
the colporteurs, by tiie crews of the 15,715 vessels
which navigate the Thames. These Bible emissa
ries, of course, do not all obtain a like success;
those, for instance, who travel in parts of the
coimtry where the cottages are widely scattered
about, must naturally get rid of fewer copies than
would be the case in ,the manufaicturing districts,
although the efforts used may have been at least
as great. The difficulty is to make an excuse for
not buying, for they offer you the same book printed
in type adapted to every condition of sight, from
infancy up to old age; they even have them with
letters in relief, for the use of the blind. There was
one thing which displeased me in some of these col
porteurs ; and this was a kind, of mystical and cant- ,
ing jargon that they made use of, joined with con-.
siderable cunning and talent for business. There
are some who even go so far as to make use of some
of the ' menaces contained in the Book they offer, in

270 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND,
order to force the sale of their stock. Taken alto
gether, however, they are a moral and pretty-well
educated class.-
For some years past the Bible Society has taken
up the idea of making use of the assistance of women
for this kind of service. Under the appellation of
Bible-women, there are now in England about two
hundred of these female Bible-agents, for -whom the
committee vote every year a sum of 84:01. by way of
salaries. They are more winning in their ways than
the men are, and, with their ready tongues and de
cent and modest air, they make their way to the very
fire-side of the poor, under the plea of imparting to
them the blessing of the Word of God. The Society
sells its books at an incredibly low price ; but except
in some peculiar cases, they believe that if they gave
them away, they would diminish the value they would
wish to see set upon them ; for the English do not
much esteem anything they do not pay for.
This system of colportage has been extended far
beyond the limits of Great Britain. It has been
organised on the same principles over the whole of
Europe, in China, in Turkey, in India — in fact,
throughout the entire world. More than once poli
tical revolutions have been found to favour the views
of this Society, by breaking do-wn the barriers which
have been set up in certain CathoUc counfries against
the free course of the frade in books. Thus, in the
former kingdom of Naples,' since its union with the

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 271
rest of Italy, the sale of Bibles has been increased by
many thousands of copies ; we see from this that the
committee of the Bible Society have had good cause
to thank Garibaldi. The same state of things was
brought about in France after the revolution of 1848.
In Eastern countries, the trade of Bible-hawking is
very often carried on by Converted Jews, who unite
aU the zeal of a proselyte with the discernment of
a broker. Besides the salaried agents, the Society
counts in England and elsewhere a large number of
voluntary helpers. It would scarcely be believed,
that a fertile field for the spread of the Bible is found
in the public-house. In one district only in Eng
land 7388 Bibles were sold in three years at the
houses of about a hundred pubhcans, amongst work
men who had come in with the intention of spending
the Saturday evening. By the help of aU these means
the Society issued in 1864, 2,495,118 copies.
After such a diffusion of the Scriptures as this,
how can it be wondered at that they are to be met
with almost everywhere in England ? Go into the
waiting-room at a railway station, and the only
volume that you wiU find to dispel the ennui of time
is the one that teaches you about etemify. If one
sleeps at an hotel, the Bible lies, beside the bed, on
the bed-room table. When a party of emigrants are
leaving the ports of London, Liverpool, or South
ampton, the mother country bids them adieu, and,
as it were, follows them over the sea, by means of a

272 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Bible. The committee regulates all these disfribu-
tions, and they caU it " casting bread upon the
waters." What is it that the English missionary
preaches on every far distant desert where he pitches
his tent? The Bible — always the Bible. It is re
lated, that Queen Victoria replied to the delegates
of some semi-barbarous nation who manifested in
her presence a kind of rapture at the sight of the
marvels of British ci-vilisation, " I wiU show you the
source of our social greatness ;" and at the same time
presented to them a Bible. Whether this anecdote
be true or false, this -way of looking at the matter is
shared by the greater part of the nation. Can it be
possible that a book so generaUy pervading society
should not have made a marked impression on the
mind and manners of the EngUsh ? It is not my
task, however, to trace out the course of tliis in
fluence, except as regards the relations of Great
Britain with foreign races.
The Bible Society is not the only association
which makes it its business to multiply the Scrip
tures in the same way as the five loaves in the
wilderness ;* but a book so foreign to the ideas and
customs of anti- Christian nations can hardly speak
intelligibly by itself. It has therefore been thought
necessary to caU in the aid of the -vivifying influence

* Among the most active, I must name the Society for Pro-
nioting Christian Knoivledge.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 273
of interpretation. In fact, the Bible Societies are
closely alUed with the Missionary Societies, of which
there are no less than forty-one in the United King
dom ; but it wUl only be necessary to notice the
most important of these.
The most ancient, and unquestionably one of the
principal societies, is the Sodety for the Propagation
of the Gospel in Foreign Paj'fo, which was estabhshed
in 1701. It was at first intended to difinse Chris
tian insfruction in the British colonies only ; but, not
being satisfied -with devoting its efforts to possessions
covering an extent of 9,000,000 of square mUes, at
the present day it invades many other lands over
which the Queen's fiag does not fioat. The celebrated
John Wesley was one of the missionaries of this
Sociefy, by which he was sent to America from 1735
to 1738. At the date of its establishment, it could
number no more than twenfy of its emissaries to
distant lands ; its jurisdiction and assistance now
extend over 3000 clergymen of the Church of Eng
land, spread over every part of the world. Through
out the vast regions to which its influence penetrates,
it lays down the episcopal and parochial, system just
as it exists in the mother country, and thus imprints
on comitries of the most various characters the com
mon stamp of Protestant Church organisation. This
Sociefy, at the head of wb'ch stand the Archbishop
of Canterbury and aU the highest ecclesiastical dig
nitaries of the kingdom, enjoys a revenue which
T

274 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
amounted, in 1864, to 102,997Z., derived from sub
scriptions and voluntary gifts.
Another great institution, likewise founded on the
principles of the Established Church, is the Church
Missionary Sodety. It took its rise in London, in
1799, at a meeting of clergy and laymen. During
the two first years it only managed to get together
the smaU sum of 177Z. Its pecuniary resources cer
tainly increased a little in time ; but as for men for
its purpose, that is, missionaries, there seemed an
absolute want of them in England. The coast of
Africa, and particularly the neighbourhood of Sierra
Leone, where they proposed to begin their opera
tions, were then considered the most unhealthy re
gions in the world. About the same time, another
Protestant Missionary Sociefy existed in Germany,
where they could find plenty of men, but no money.
The two institutions formed mutual arrangements;
the EngUsh agreed to furnish funds, if the Germans
would undertake to pro-vide soldiers for this new
work of moral conquest. Thus they were foreigners,
these first champions who entered the lists, and who
opened up the path for British enterprise in these
much-dreaded countries. There is one remarkable
fact : .that the women of England showed at that
time more courage than the men; the German
missionaries, who most of them married in England
before they went out, took with them their English
brides, bravely determined to incur aU the dangers

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 276
of the cUmate. At the present day, what a change
has taken place I EngUshmen have now replaced
the foreign element in the personnel of the missions;
and to what an immense extent has the circle of
thefr work been enlarged ! The Society now sends
out 680 Christian labourers- to work at the conversion
of the world ; its emissaries preach or teach in more
than fifty different languages, and its 800 schools
afford Christian insfruction to 36,000 children or
adults, chosen among all the tribes of the human
race. In 1865, the Church Missionary Sociefy col
lected in the United Kingdom the enormous sum of
144,464?. Provided with such resources as these,
she doubtless handles a most powerful lever, worked
by the intelUgence of the Protestant clergy in almost
every part of the world.
The Dissenting denominations have been very far
indeed fi'om remaining isolated from this reUgious
conquest of the universe by the influence of English
ideas. In 1786, Dr. Carey, the minister of a Bap
tist congregation, drew the attention of his brethren
to the state of idolafrous countries generaUy. He
had been attracted to the idea of Christian proseljrt-
ism by a great love of geography, and he wished to
give a sacred impulse to this study of the terresfrial
globe and its languages. In 1791 he broached the
subject at a meeting of Baptist ministers, held at
CUpstone in Northamptonshire. A year later, a so
ciefy was formed under the name of the Baptist Mis-

276 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
sionary Society. Some time after. Dr. Carey left for
the East Indies, and a printing-press was soon estab
hshed there, at Serampore. He was endowed with
the gift of languages to an almost incredible degree,
and franslated the Scriptures, in conjunction -with his
brother missionaries, into forfy or fifty different idioms
for the use of the various fribes of Hindoos. His
death, which took place in 1834, was a blow to every
friend of learning.
This society of Baptist missionaries, which, in
1865, .enjoyed an annual income of28,744Z., owes
a great part of its success to its spirit of toleration
and prudence. In 1805 it recommended to its
missionaries to pay respect to the prejudices of the
Hindoos, by refraining from any violent attacks upon
their idols, and from interfering in the ceremonies of
their worship. " Gospel conquests," it added, " must
be conquests of love." This same association now
extends its labours and its sfruggles to several other
parts of the world. It has been latterly somewhat
mixed up in the sad events which have taken place
in Jamaica ; it had predicted them, and beheved no
doubt that it could avert them, by -vigorously de
nouncing to the local government the just grievances,
as it thought, of the black race.
In Bloomfield - street, Finsbury, stands a new
stone building belonging to the London Missionary
Sodety, founded in 1795 by Christians of various de
nominations, but which has been mostly supported

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 277
by the Independents.* The walls of the waiting-
rooms, and the private rooms of the dfrectors, are
covered with the porfraits of missionaries and thefr
wives. To this phalanx of Christian warriors belong
the illustrious names of Morrison, EUis, Moffat, and
Li^vingstone. I -visited also, with much interest, a
museum of objects coUected by the Christian fravel-
lers in the vast mission-field of the Society. Although
the natural history of the different climates, and the
domestic hfe and employments of the various tribes
of the human species, are all pretty weU represented
in this gaUery, the coUection of idols is by far the
most curious part of it. Who would not be struck
with the sight of the singular monuments of this
graphic history of various forms of worship ? The
gods, which are the creation of the. inferior races,
look like the embryos of the more perfect gods which
follow them in other reUgious systems. Through
what a series oi avatars has the idea of the Supreme
Being developed itself in the human mind !
The series of idols in this museum commences
with the gods of Polynesia. When, in 1818, the
King Pomare was converted to Christianify, he sent
his family idols to the EngUsh missionaries. "I

» Enjoying a revenue of 91,0482., the London Missionary
Society maintains 167 European missionaries, 700 schoolmasters
belonging to various races, all more or less barbarous, and eight
colleges for instructing missionaries and oatechists from among
the natives themselves.

278 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
wish," he stated in a letter, " that you would send
them to England, to show them there the appearance
of the gods which Otahiti used to worship." I must
say that these images are not much credit to the
nation which sacrificed to them. Most of them are
lumps of wood roughly carved, on which the savage
has imprinted the character of his low and voracious
instincts. For instance, what can be thought of an
idol with scarcely any head, and all of it taken up
with an immense mouth armed with pointed teeth ?
Some of these fetishes have been rendered even more
ugly and ridiculous by certain commonplace acci
dents ; thus, Tarignarue, the great god of Atui, was
nearly eaten up by the rats which had taken up their
abode in the inside of the statue. One really feels
inclined to turn away the head with shame at these
hideous nightmares of religious feeUng, and pass on
to the commonplace di-vinities of China. These sen
sual and familiar-looking idols point out a people de
void of much sense of the ideal, even in the fancies of
art; but stiU how far removed they are from those
hideous abortions, the Polynesian gods ! The grander
mythology of India seems to tower over this fright
ful series of images ; and in its strange and symboUc
types there are some which even approach the pro
portions of beauty. Among the di-vinities of this land,
so fertile in marvels, figures, in a rather unlooked-
for way, an elegant statuette of the Virgin and Child.
This effigy has had sfrange destinies : having been

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 279
fashioned in gilt wood by an Italian artist, it was
taken out to the East Indies by the CathoUc mission
aries ; admitted, in the lapse of time, into the Pan
theon of the Hindoo faith, aU kinds of virtue were
attributed to it, and its removal caused a real con
sternation in the counfry. Is not this too often the
history of missions ? They seek to desfroy the super
stitions of a people, and in doing so bring them fresh
idols. The Wesleyans, who form one of the most exten
sive and most active denominations in Great Britain,
could not fail to claim thefr share of influence in a
work so profoundly national. Since 1786 they have
had emissaries in different quarters of the globe ; but
it was not until 1816 that the society was formed
known under the name of the Wesleyan Missionary
Sodety. Dr. Coke, one of the first Methodist mis
sionaries, met with considerable opposition in the
West Indies from the slave-owners. The planters
there declared themselves against the Bible, imder
the pretence that a slave knowing how to read was
no longer fit to fulffi the duties of his condition. This
sociefy, which occupies the Centenary Hall, a large
building with columns in front, coUected in 1864 the
sum of 141,899Z. Every branch of English Protest
antism, then, as we see, manifests a devoted liberality
and a self-denying spirit of sacrifice, at least equal
to any other religion, no matter which. The capital
engaged in the field of Foreign Missions is estimated

380 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
at near a miUion of money. Let us hasten, then, to
consider the works of these rich societies. In the
series of Enghsh missions, extending over the whole
earth, we shaU see the spirit of Christianify grappling
with aU the gradations of the human inteUect, from
the savage who can with difficulfy speU out a few
lines, to those ancient Eastern communities where
art and poefry found their primitive home.

CHAPTER XL
The Jolm Williams— The i)!#— History of the South- Sea mis
sions — John Williams the missionary — His Messenger of
Peace — Cannibal tribes — ^W. EUis — Man-eating gods, even
where their worshippers have ceased to eat one another — The
savage's idea as to the religion of the English — Polynesian
legends — It is easier to change the gods of a nation than the
heart of man — Native agents — Story of Elekana — The mis
sionaries teach the savages the use of the alphabet — How can
a written message speak When it has no mouth ? — Introduc
tion of domestic animals — ^A pair of shoes stolen by rats — ^An
Englishwoman weeping because she had ceased to like beef —
The savages' -wives in bonnets and crinoline — The proselytism
of fashions — ^Alteration in manners — Missionary life — Their
houses — Their wives — Hurricanes — Man-stealers.
On the 4th of January 1866 there lay at anchor in
the river at Gravesend a ship which had never yet
braved the dangers of the deep. This was the new
John Williams; it had taken the place of a vessel of
the same name, which, after twenfy years in the Pa
cific Ocean, sank on the 17th May 1864, within sight
of Danger Island; the shipwrecked mariners being
rescued hj the very savages to whom, at the time
of its first -visit, tins ship had brought the glad tidings
of Christianify. The news of this disaster caused a
considerable sensation, and the children in Danger
Island, imitated also by the young people in the
other adjacent islands, forwarded various offerings

282 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
for the consfruction of another John WiUiams. Those
who were without money brought oil, coffee, tobacco,
and arrowroot. The London Missionary Society, to
whom the ship-wrecked vessel belonged, did its part
by opening a subscription, which was mostly made
up by the children in the English schools, and soon
reached the amount of more than 12,000Z. Aided
by these voluntary donations, they built in the ship
yards at Aberdeen this proud vessel, which, now aU
fitted out, was about to face the perUs of the Southern
Ocean. Ten passengers, the missionaries and their wives,
were standing on her deck, taking leave of aU that
was around them ; six of them were destined for the
Na-vigators' Islands, the four others for- Raratonga
and Huaheine. The last moment before the setting
sail of a ship is always a solemn one ; but in this
case the length of the voyage, and the purely moral
aim which this vessel was meant to accomplish across
the seas, added much to the emotion of the lookers-
on. One would have looked in vain, however, for
all those scenes of disfress and conftision which so
generaUy prevail under similar circumstances. The
comitenances of the travellers, especially of the fe
males, expressed but a light shade of melancholy,
and were lighted up with a ray of calm and self-
possessed enthusiasm. Among the chief character
istics of English missionaries is somewhat of an
erratic propensity joined with thefr rehgious feelings.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 283
If faith can stUl be found upon the earth, surely it
is amongst these men that we ought to look for it.
Their families, from whom they are not always sepa
rated in their far-distant expeditions, give them a
great advantage over the Cathohc priests. Who
forms the truest Protestant missionary amid more or
less idolafrous races? Few could faU to answer — •
Woman; for on her and her children the London
societies reckon, even more than upon the man, for
insinuating the graces of English Christianify into the
good opinions of the savage.
In the mean time the John WiUiams, aU her sails
spread, seemed to fremble with impatience. After
various signals, the captain's voice gave the word
to weigh anchor, and the ship saUed on her first
voyage. The crowd around foUowed her with their
eyes for some time; aU the other numerous ships
ploughing the surface of the water were but the
emissaries of business, — she alone was the represen
tative of an idea.
The London Missionary Society was the first to
enter upon the vfrgin field of Polynesia. In 1796, it
sent nineteen labourers for the faith to Otahiti in
the ship Duff, a vessel which had been bought ex
pressly for this service, and which wiU always remain
famous in the annals of British missions. At ffrst
starting, however, its fate was not a fortunate one.
It being war-time, the Duff, during a second voyage,
was captured in the South Sea by a French priva-

284 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
teer, which brought her into Rio Janefro. The
twenty -nine missionaries who took part in this
second expedition returned to England after ten
months' absence, without having even reached the
end of their voyage. Thirteen other missionaries
were conveyed in 1800, by a vessel in which a
mahgnant fever broke out ; three died or abandoned
their companions. Nearly every one began to ask
whether this work were worth the Uves, money, and
sacrifices which it had put England to the cost of.
On the other hand, the state of the mission was
deplorable : the savages, who were at first favour
ably disposed to the strangers, had ended by turn
ing against them. Desertion also had invaded thefr
ranks. One of the missionaries had married an ido
latrous wife, and another had altogether renoimced
his religion. To aU this must be added the diffi
culties which were inherent in any undertaking of
this kind. At the beginning the missionaries had
everything to learn — the history, the manners, the
geography even of the country. As there was, of
course, neither grammar nor dictionary of the lan
guage, which had never been written in any form, it
was necessary for them to pick it up as they heard
it, and to reproduce, as weU as they could, the
sfrange and rough sounds which came from the
mouths of the aborigines. How, then, could one
expect but that the first field of their labours should
be unfruitful? The missionaries were compeUed to

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 285
leave Otahiti in 1810, and to betake themselves to
New South Wales. In fact, aU seemed lost, when,
about the year 1812, the conversion to Christianify
of the Queen Pomare caused a sudden change to
come over the face of things. It was not, however,
until the end of 1818, the epoch when the celebrated
missionary champion, John WiUiams, entered the
lists, that English influence could be said to have
really made its way into this isle-bespotted ocean.
John WiUiams Uved eighteen years among the
savages, and .fraveUed 100,000 mUes for their sakes.
At first he was limited to the island of Raiatea, but
he soon longed to spread the Gospel in the Hervey
Island group, and in the archipelago of the Navi
gators' Islands ; but as it is impossible to pass over
the seas on foot, and there were no means of pass
age at his disposal, he resolved to consti'uct a vessel
for himself. The missionary went bravely to work ;
but before begianing on the vessel, it was necessary
for him to make the requisite tools with his own
hands. There were only four goats on the island in
his time, one of which gave milk. John Williams
kiUed three of them, and endeavoured from their
skins to confrive a beUows for his forge. Unfor
tunately he had not reckoned on the rats, which
swarmed in these savage counfries ; and they ate up
his work. By dint of perseverance, and with the
help of the aborigines, to whom he had taught the
first principles of naval architecture, he succeeded,

286 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
ill spite of aU difficulties, in launching a kind of
Noah's Ark, not so bad-looking after aU, to which
he gave the name of the Messenger of Peace. Such
a vessel could hardly be expected to stand against a
very stormy sea, as there was such a deficiency in
the means for construction. It was made out of
pieces of wood barely joined together with little bits
of iron; the hull was done over with a mixture of
lime and the gum of the bread-fruit free, to serve
instead of pitch ; whilst the sails were formed of the
mats used by the natives to he on, sewn together so
as to hold the wind. Nevertheless, in this frail craft
John WiUiams fearlessly commenced his voyage of
discovery. This fifth quarter of the world was, in
fact, so little known then, that it was mainly by the
aid of the legends and vague indications afforded him
by the aborigines that he succeeded in finding out
some of the islands hidden in the vastness of the ocean.
The inhabitants of many of these islands inspfred
our traveUers with a dread which was weU justified
by the murder of Captain Cock, and some other
fragical adventures. Many of the natives were can
nibals; others used poisoned arrows, and even con
cealed some venomous matter either in the food that
they sold to the strangers, or in the water that they
procured for them out of their ri-vulets.* John WU
liams, however, braved aU these dangers.
¦^ Some of these tribes were cannibals even in their sports.
One of the children pretended to be dead, and the others carried

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 287
The missionaries were, nevertheless, compeUed to
keep weU on their guard in the first inter-view with
any savage tribe ; and they generaUy had with them,
on board their vessel, one or two chiefs of some of
the neighbouring isles, whom they had won over to
their cause. The natives, seeing men of their own
nation and colour, were inchned to disarm and to
join more readUy in a parley. They then exchanged
a kind of peace-offering : the savages, on their part,
brought the finiit of the bread-fruit tree, a piece of
stuff, or some other present, to which was attached
the sacred leaf of the cocoa-nut free ; the strangers
offered some trifles, which served as a sign of friend
ship. When this was done, the natives launched
their canoes, and the vessel was soon surrounded by
crowds of wild-looking and tatooed men, whose cries
and gestures were anything but reassuring. The
missionary would then explain the aim of his -visit;
and if his propositions were accepted, he landed,
accompanied by one or two native schoolmasters
¦vfhom he had brought with him. This was the way
in which John WiUiams infroduced himself into many
islands ; and who can tell how far his conquests might
have extended if they had not been cut short by his
massacre in 1839 by the savages of Eromanga?

him about, chanting the f easting-song. Subsequently the savages
imagined, on seeing the missionaries eating meat, that the latter
were eating one of their companions. They knew no other flesh,
poor wretches, than the flesh of man.

288 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Mr. W. Ellis, another missionary endowed with
devoted courage and high powers of inteUect, suc
ceeded him for some time in the South Seas; and
he has been since foUowed by a whole army of evan-
geUsts. After such constantiy-repeated efforts, is it
not quite natural to ask, what alteration has been
produced by the influence of England in the in
habitants of the Pacific Archipelago? In the first
place, the reign of idolatry has been almost entirely
swept away. AU the poor gods, whose acquaintance
we made in the Missionary Museum in London, have
met with, for the most part, rather humiliating ends.
Some have been kicked to pieces by the savages
themselves, some were thro-wn into the water with a
stone round their necks, others were burnt to make
a fire for cooking. But, after all, did they not de
serve their fate? Even the fribes who were not
actuaUy cannibals had idols to which they offered
up human sacrifices. The old superstitions, how
ever, did not offer any very sti-ong resistance, ex
cept in certain cases, where the chiefs had a per
sonal interest in keeping up a form of worship which
conferred upon them divine honours. The rude
temples, tiie wooden statues, in fact all the hideous
symbols of an uninteUigible theology, gave way be
fore the Gospel, as the Polynesian forests faU before
the might of a southern hurricane. It cannot be de
nied, though, that the savages sometimes formed a
curious idea of the religion of the English. One of

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 289
the natives of Raratonga, seeing a missionary walk
ing about with his Bible in his hand, cried out,
" Look at this man's god, and see what a strange
god it is ! He carries it about in his pocket, whilst
ours are set up at the Marae."* It would be a
difficult matter to separate froni the progress of
Christianify those advantages which were afforded
the missionaries by the benefits of ci-vilisation. The
savages, in the habit of referring everjdihing to some
supernatural principle, could at first see nothing
more in the God of the English than a god more
powerful and perhaps less mischievous than their
own, since he had taught them to wear shoes, to
clothe themselves, and to make aU kinds of in
genious utensils.
At an epoch Uke the present, when the course
of study seems atfracted towards the circumstances
attending the origin of Christianity, it would be,
perhaps, curious to endeavour to trace out a source
of analogy in the present state of Foreign Missions.
We can, for one thing, see in them how legends
came to be originated. The missionaries were driven
away from an island whither they had come to preach
the Gospel, and were plundered by the natives. A
short time after their departure, an epidemic broke
out which affected both old men and children. The
savages, atfributing this calamity to the vengeance

* Temple of the Polynesian gods. TI

290 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
of the strangers' God, coUected aU the things which
they had robbed them of, and threw them down in
a cavern. They then made a solemn vow. "If,"
they cried, "the God of the strangers would oiUy
suspend the execution of His decree, and bring back
His worshippers to our coasts, we -wiU receive them
as hospitably as we can, and wUl share with them
our food." If these missionaries returned, the whole
country was from henceforth open to thefr influence.
On another occasion, the only daughter of the chief
of one of the tribes was dangerously iU. Notice was
given to the priests, who then ceased not to offer
sacrifices and invoke thefr idols, both day and night.
The child died ; and the father, angry with his un
grateful gods, sent his own son to set fire to the
temple. The good missionaries might be, perhaps,
a littie tempted to look upon facts like these in the
light of miracles ; more modest, however, they are
content with tracing out in them the over-ruling
hand of Pro-vddence.
If I am not much mistaken, if these inhabitants
of the islands of the ocean ever ffiid chroniclers, there
wiU be a shade of the marveUous necessarily mixed
up with the history of the ffrst infroduction of Chris
tianity to thefr shores. A savage king, who had
been for a long time very unfortunate in war, ended
by attributing his defeats to the impotence of his
local divinities. He invoked the aid, imder certain
conditions, of the Christians' God, and obtained the

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 291
¦victory. In reading this missionary narrative, who
would not carry back his thoughts to Clevis and
the battle of Tolbiac ? It is also interesting to foUo^
out the fraces of their old superstitions in the natives
who have been converted to Christianity. An uncle
of the king of Raratonga raised an altar to Jehovah
and Jesus Christ, which was soon visited by a mul
titude of sick persons ; and as the cures were said to
be almost certain, this new Marae met with great
success. English Christianity, in aU its unbending
principles, was so much opposed to the general ideas
of these fribes, that one of two things was necessary
— either that the spfrit of the Gospel should modify
the routine of their habits, or that the force of their
manners and customs should effect some alteration in
the spirit, or at least the letter, of the Bible. It has
generaUy been the case that both results have been
produced to some extent.
The whole system of reUgious propagandism Is
much based on what is called native agency, that is,
savages instructing savages. No sooner have the
English naissionaries won over one of these islanders,
than they begin to make use of him in converting
others. As he speaks naturally the language of the
country, and of course Is weU acquainted with the
character of the Indi-viduals of his own race, he is
able to exercise over them a much more powerftd
influence than a foreigner could do. Some of these
tawny or black-skinned agents very often lead most

292 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
adventurous Uves amid these seas, so fertUe in event
ful travel. One of them, named Elekana, was en
deavouring with eight companions to cross over from
one island to another, when the sail of their vessel
was blown away by a gust of wind. The unfortunate
men saw the land vanishing from their sight, and at
last found themselves in the midst of a waste of water,
the waves of which rose every instant, as if to swaUow
them up. After having been exposed for eight weeks
to aU the brunt of the ocean, the canoe which carried
them was thro^wn upon the reefs of an island situate
about 300 or 400 miles from the place where they
had reckoned to land. Elekana and three of his
companions who had survived the calamity were weU
received by the islanders, who were idolaters. In
order to recompense them for their hospitality, Ele
kana opened a school ; and after some time, having
found a vessel which was sailing for Samoa, he came
across to announce to the missionaries all that had
taken place. He stated his want of Bibles and fellow-
labom-ers to extend the work which he had begun.
Thanks to this occurrence, the Church of England
has latterly gained over tliree new islands in latitudes
almost unknown to na-vigators.
One of the most wonderful things to my mind in
these Protestant missions is, how, being founded, as
it were, upon a book, they have flrst of aU necessarily
provided for the insti-uction of the savages. When
the first missionaries landed in the archipelago of the

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 293
South Seas, they found there a language as unculti
vated as the mountains of tiiese vfrgin Isles^ The
inhabitants were entfrely ignorant of the use even
of the letters of the alphabet. The small share of
literature that they nowadays possess has come to
them entirely from foreigners,, who have reconsti
tuted for them their language, their traditions, and
their ideas, under a written form. The Bible has
been translated into, and printed in, fourteen dialects
in succession ; but in order that it may be rendered
accessible to aU, they take great pains in educating
schoolmasters among the aborigines. These teachers
are chosen out of aU classes of the population ; thus,
the king of the Friendly Islands filled at the same
time the posts of preacher and schoolmaster. There
has been, besides, a system established of Normal
Schools, by the help of which the missionaries have
succeeded in developing a plan of mutual instruction
of the people. The London Missionary Sociefy alone
m-aintains in the South Seas 372 estabhshments, re
ceiving .21,103 pupils. At first, a letter or written
message caused the greatest astonishment among the
islanders. " How can that thing speak?" they would
ask ; " it has no mouth." At the present time, many
of the native schoolmasters are able to express their
ideas in writing with the greatest freedom, in letters
addressed to the missionaries. Books are constantly
printed on these islands ; and the composing, print
ing, and binding are aU done by native hands.

294 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
I cannot help dreading lest the artiess instincts
of the dark-skinned race may be in some measure
sacrificed to the religious element; and in the re
Ugious professions of those natives who have been
converted to Christianity, I think the Inoculation of
European ideas Is too evident. The dictation of a
strange and unwonted routine to, a youthful race is
not the way to Increase its energy, but rather, as I
think, to doom it to a second childhood. The mis
sionaries, however, assure us that they have done all
In their power to preserve the national fraditions,
legends, and poetry. I wish with aU my heart that
this may have been the case; but stiU, is it not a
fact that they have suppressed aU the dances and
games In the Pacific isles, from a dread that some
of the relics of idolatry may remain hidden tmder
these old customs? They ought to take care that
they do not render the life of these peoples rather
too joyless, and altogether extinguish the germs of
their national indi-vidualify.
One of the most material services which the
English missionaries have rendered to the Polynesian
savages has been the introduction among them of
certain domestic animals. The islands of the South
Seas abound In natural beauties; they have been
compared to verdant flower-gardens shut in by the
ocean. Some, of volcanic origin, rise boldly towards
the sky in groups of mountain peaks ; others, formed
by banks of coral and madrepores, are only raised

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 295
some few feet above the level of the sea, and only
make themselves kno-wn to the voyager by the frees
which grow on their surface. In aU of them, how
ever, the animal kingdom was extremely deficient ;
some of them were occupied by little else than ser
pents, vampfre-bats, and rats. It is frue that the
latter were there in swarms. At first the missionaries
could not sit down to table without having two or three
persons engaged In protecting the eatables against
these marauders. An Englishwoman having one night
left her shoes by the side of the bed, could not find
them at daylight next morning. This was unbear
able ; so, to make war upon these enemies, a cat was
Infroduced into one of the islands. This animal caused
the greatest terror among the inhabitants, and played
them several fricks, which gave rise to stories pretty
well tinged with the marveUous. Besides, what good
was It to destroy aU the rats without providing some
thing else to take thefr place ? for the fact was, that
the islanders lived on them. Their flesh was con
sidered exquisite, and " as good as a rat" was a fa
vourite proverb among the savages to express one of
the finer shades of epicurism. When the English
missionaries for the first time Imported two pigs into
Mangaia, the natives, who had never before set eyes
on anything of the sort, raised cries of astonishment.
The chief put on his best clothes and all the Insignia
of his rank, and then sent them away to pay court
to his gods. At the present day, these animals are

296 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
very common in all the islands of the archipelago ;
being endowed with a rapacious appetite, they have
almost destroyed the rats, — affording to man their
own fiesh as a good exchange. The goat also, at its
first introduction, had the honour of exciting much
wonder among the natives; they took it for some
wonderful bird, with two great teeth on its head.
This long-haired bird has woiiderfuUj'^ increased and
multiplied in the mountains of these islands, where
nature before showed herself so niggardly in living
forms. The ass and the horse, the latter nicknamed
by the Polynesians " the great man-carrying pig,"
made their way in turn into these regions, whither
they were at length foUowed by the larger horned
cattle generaUy.
This good work of acclimatisation has, of course,
much enriched the provision of food for the inha
bitants ; at first the missionaries and their famihes
were obliged to be content with pork as thefr only
meat. Ten years elapsed after the arrival of John
WiUiams among the Polynesian isles before he was
able to have an ox slaughtered. It was made quite
a great festival ; and he invited to it several of his
associates, who even crossed over the sea to take a
part in the banquet. But 0, how great was their
bewilderment when they found that not one of their
party could endure either the smeU or the taste of
this eminently English dainty ! One of the mission
aries' wives went so far as to bm'st into tears, and

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 297
cried out, " Are we become such barbarians !" But
as regards the savages of Polynesia, it was not only
the nature of their food, but the whole tenor of their
manners and customs, which were modified by the
fransition from hunting and fishing to a pastoral life.
Before the arrival of the English, the natives of
Polynesia had not so much as a word in their lan
guage to represent the idea of domestic comfort.
There Is, however, a great change nowadays, If we
are to put faith In the correspondence of the mis
sionaries.* The low huts covered over with leaves
have given place to pleasant cottages. The improve
ment and embeUishment of the dweUing is a sure
means to elevate the character of the inhabitant;
and thus it Is that in some of their schools they teach
their pupils the flrst principles of the art of building.
One now often meets with, under the roofs shaded
by the banana-tree, not only domestic utensils, but
even sofas and other articles of luxury, f European

* Every missionaiy keeps up a constant correspondence with
his Society in London. These records are very interesting to refer
to ; for what travellers' stories can be compared to them ? The
missionaries, of course, are not all savans ; and it often happens
that they are mistaken in many things, — their observations in
geology, ethnology, and natural history are often to some extent
vague and inexact ; but, at all events, they must be better ac
quainted than any one else with the mind and the manners of the
population among whom they live.
t No race is altogether indifferent to comfort, John Williams
was in his vessel on one occasion, when his cabin was invaded,
and even his couch was beset, with a swarm of female savages.

298 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
fashions also exercise a considerable influence over
the opinions of the natives. The EngUshwomen teach
the Polynesian girls to use the needle and to make
bonnets — rather a powerful attraction for female
coquetry. Some of the heathens of the softer, if not
the fairer, sex are even wUling to be made Christians
in order to be better clad. But I think it is a ques
tion if these bonnets and dresses can add much to
the charms of Malays and negresses; do they not
rather turn them into mere caricatures ? Every type
of humanity has Its o-wn pecuUar style of toilette
dictated to it by nature. The woman of Polynesia,
in all the wild luxuriance of savage fancy, — her head
entwined with garlands of green leaves and flowers,
her shoulders covered with blue pearls and red berries,
and a rush-woven mat girt round her waist, — comes
much nearer, I think, to the beau iddal of her race
than if she were awkwardly disguised as a lady.
The missionaries and the savages themselves, I
must say, do not look upon it in this light. In
these Islands the costume is the distinguishing mark
of the faith, and the fashions of ci-vlhsation have a
decided advantage over the others. The love of finery
has at least this advantage, that it develops the inge-

They would have liked to have lain down on the soft bed ; but as
the missionary feared for the whiteness of his sheets if they came
in contact with their oily skins, they were compelled to be content
with rubbing their cheeks, one after the other, against the do-wn
pillows.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 299
nuify of their fingers, and makes another bond of
union with the foreigners ; It Is to the latter also that
the PoljTiesian women owe the advantage of being
able to see their o-wn faces in a mirror, Instead of
looking down Into a brook, as they used to do
before. The force of example, and the always increasing
necessity for comfort, has taken the lead in another
way in the Infroduction of many useful arts. The
landscape, once darkened by the shade of the forest,
and wUd -with its romantic desert beauties, has now
more or less taken the character of a garden, where
they cultivate the yam, the sugar-cane, cotton, and
tobacco. With us, goods are bought with money;
but in these youthful communities, goods — I mean, of
course, the produce of the earth — are used to buy
money. The government, which was formerly a
debased and cruel form of despotism, has now been
subjected to restraining laws ; and the rights of per
sons and property are based, atthe present day, on In-
¦vlolable charters. Magisfrates duly administer justice,
and even the institution of trial by jury has been In
troduced into the South Seas. The cruel warfare be
tween fribe and fribe, which once used to steep these
isles in bloodshed, has now ceased to decimate the
population ; and Infanticide, which had almost passed
into a custom, has entirely disappeared.* The mis-
* The last pulpit which Mr. W. Ellis used for preaching the
Gospel from in the Society Islands before he left Polynesia is sur-

300 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
sionaries have taken much pains to elevate the con
dition of the women. As the wife was generaUy
bought when she was married, she was both the slave
and the property of the man ; she was also considered
an object of so great impurity, that she was never
allowed to cross the boundary of the court of thefr
temples; and she was looked upon as more odious
to their gods than the most unclean animals. In
the Feejee Islands, the wives of their chiefs were
strangled at the funerals of 'the latter, under the
pretext that they might prove of use to their hus
bands in another world. By abohshing polygamy,
and reconstituting the civil institutions, Enghsh Pro
testantism has been the means of placing famUy rela
tions among the natives on a completely new basis.
But what is the course of missionary life in these
countries, just emerging, as they are, from a savage
state ? Thanks to the natural richness of the climate,
and their own uidustry, they generally find the
means of making a pretfy comfortable home of their
own. Their principle is, that they do not come
there to make barbarians of themselves, but to civi
lise the barbarous natives. And yet it is necessary
at first that the missionary should have in him a

rounded with ancient war-lances. Many of their arms and war
like instruments have been converted into agricultural implements.
In less than one century the Sandwich Islands have emerged fi-om
all the gloom of barbarism, and now even enjoy the benefits of a
constitutional government.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 301
Uttle of the Inventive genius of a Robinson Crusoe ;
and if he wishes for a more commodious and refined
house than the rest, he is generaUy obliged to build
It for himseff. The natives. It is true enough, will
offer him thefr services ; but he must be the architect,
and must direct their work. How astonished were
the savages the first time that they saw stones burnt
to make lime ! By mixing red ochre with powder
made from the madrepores washed up by the waves,
they get a pretfy sahnon-colom', which gives to the
waUs a very pleasing aspect. If I may believe the
sketches made by the missionaries themselves, which
are preserved in London, some of their dweUings
have no inconsiderable appearance of elegance. Their
gardens are weU looked after, and the banyan,
bread-fruit, and cocoa-nut trees which surround
them spread over them aU the richness of a tropical
foliage. The question then is as to furnishing the
interior of the house : it is not the raw material
that is wanting, — rosewood and other costly pro
ducts of the forest can be had for the trouble
of cutting do-wn ; but the missionary should be
able to use the tm'ning-lathe, and must be a bit of a
cabinet-maker, if he wishes to turn these gifts of
nature to proper advantage. The greater part of
them have had some Uttie practice in manual occu
pations, and driven by necessity, which our neigh
bours caU "the mother of invention," they generally
manage to triumph over the preliminary obstacles.

302 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
As they are the pioneers of civiUsation, the most
simple processes are always the best ; and they de
rive the first principles of thefr workmanship from
experience much more than from books.
Their wives also are of the very greatest assistance
in aU that concerns domestic comfort ; they exercise,
both inside the house and out of it, an influence so
full of sympathy and kindness that it ca,nnot fail to
contribute much to the success of English missions.
Better able than the male missionaries to get ac
quainted with the women of the country and to visit-
their sick children, they are easily able to win over
their hearts by the services which they render them.
The savages themselves are very readily able to
associate the idea of a female companionship with
the work of an evangeUst. When some Catholic
missionaries arrived among the Polynesian Islands,
accompanied by thefr Sisters of Charity, the natives
welcomed them as the -wives of the priests; and this
idea could never be driven out of thefr imaginations.
Few persons, I think, could fail of admfring the de
votion of these Englishwomen, who give themselves
up to Uve fiir removed from aU the advantages which
sociefy can afford. Almost alone, amidst men of
another colour, speaking another language and ha
bituated to strange customs, how can they reflect on
their position -without horror if their husbands should
happen to die and leave them in these barbarous
counfries ? They are constantiy In the habit of accom-

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 303
panying the missionary in his jeurneys, and with the
rest of his family courageously share his dangers.
Sometimes, even, reliance Is placed on the weaker
sex to tame down tho wild instincts of the savages ;
but the kind of affection which they inspire in the
natives has occasionaUy proved a source of embar
rassment. The fact is, the savages get too fond of
them, and the missionaries' wives have several times
had to contend with that gift of pleasing which seems
so peculiarly to belong to European ladies. On one
occasion John WiUiams was In sight of the Island of
Aitutaki, on board a vessel from which he was par
leying with the natives, when the attention of the
latter was drawn to the son of the missionary, a
pretty Uttle boy of four years old, who was on board
the ship. It was the first white child that they had
ever seen, and his appearance caused so much enthu
siasm, that they contended who should first have the
honour of rubbing noses -with the youthful European.*
The savages were fixU of pity at the lot of so delicate
a being, exposed to aU the violence of the tempestuous
ocean ; and they urgently enfreated that he would
think fit to give the chUd up to them. " What would
you do with him ?" they were asked by the father,
rather alarmed, for he was afraid that the inhabitants
of the island were cannibals. The chief rephed, in the

* It is the mode of salutation which corresponds with the Eng
lish shake of the hand.

304 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
name of the whole party, that they would take the
greatest care of him, and that, in fact, their Intention
was to make him their king. This brilliant offer,
however, was no great temptation to the ambition of
the parents ; and as the cries and gestures of the
savages assumed rather a threatening character, the
mother carried off the child In her arms to the inte
rior of the cabin. The children of the missionaries
who are brought up among the savages are dis
tinguished by a pecuUar turn of mind, and get the
habit of thinking in the language of the counfry.
One of them, ha-ving lost a little brother, who had
died of one of the disorders so common in these un
healthy counti'ies, said to his father, " Don't plant
him, I entreat you ; he Is too pretty." To put any
thing in the ground, according to the native Idea,
was to plant it.
Even when the missionary does get established
and comfortably settled in the house built with his
own hands, he very often has hurricanes to deal
with. The tempests brewing up in the vast extent
of the South Seas come suddenly and break over
these islands ; the lightning flashes fiercely, and
even sets fire to the forests covering the lofty moun
tains. The rush of the wind makes everything
fremble, and the giants of vegetation are scattered
like wisps of straw. A disaster Uke this feU in 1865
on the Island of Aitutaki ; seven thousand cocoa-nut
trees in full bearing were laid flat upon the ground

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 305

in one night; the supply of bread-fruit trees, the
main source of food for the native families, was en
tirely destroyed ; and there was not a single house
nor place of worship left standing in the whole
island. Besides this, an immdation of the sea, which
rose about midnight to a most unusual height, swept
over aU the cultivated grounds. Many of the inha
bitants roUed mats round thefr wives and children, to
prevent tiieir being torn one from the other and blown
away by the violence of the squaUs. Mr. RoU the mis
sionary, and his family, took refuge behind the re
mains of a waU, all that was left of the best house
in the island. Who cannot fancy the fearful state of
consternation into which a calamity Uke this would
plunge the poor Islanders? The rising sun Ughted
up a horrible scene of ruin. But yet, so great was
the love of these formerly savage people for those who
had been the means of bringing to them the blessings
of ci-vihsation, that they wished, first of all, to build
up again the house belonging to the English mis
sionary. It was in vain that he represented to them
that they themselves were the chief victims, and that
they ought to look first- to repairing their own mis
fortunes ; they only persisted the more, and indeed
commenced the work immediately. " Without having
first done this," they naively assured him, " they
never could have found courage to begin amending
their o-wn disasters."
Christian missionaries have many obstacles to con-
X

300 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
tend with ; but one of their chief drawbacks at present
In the South Seas is the trouble given them by men
of their own colour, and professing at least the same
religion. Two or three years ago some Peruvian vessels
made their appearance in these waters, and carried
off, either by fraud or -violence, a great number of
the inhabitants of some of the islands. These slavers
burnt the houses, destroyed the canoes, and laid -vio
lent hands on men, women, and children, whom they
carried off into slavery. In some localities they
had recourse to a singular stratagem. The report
was spread about that they had a missionary on
board one of their vessels, and the artless islanders
rushed down to the shore to see him. One of the
sailors, dressed in black, was able to act the part of
the sacred personage -weU enough to induce them to
come on board, when, just as they least expected
it, sail was set, and the ship went off with its prey.
These men-stealers inspired such horror in the Inha
bitants, that for several months the appearance of a
strange vessel on the coast was an object- of alarm
in aU quarters. One of the slave-ships was at last
caught by the natives of Rapa, who placed it in the
hands of the French authorities at Otahiti. Measures
were taken In another quarter to compel the Peruvian
government to prevent these acts of spoliation ; and
by way of reparation they sent back 368 natives
belonging to various islands. The vessel they were
In was nothing but a floating prison. They had

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 307
hardly left port when the small-pox and dysentery
broke out ; and before they reached Rapa 344 dead
bodies had been thrown into the sea. Those who sur
vived were landed by force on the coast, in spite of
the just objections of the inhabitants, who were, of
course, alarmed at receiving them back in such a
State. It ended, in fact, in their sowing the seeds of
an epidemic which carried off a fourth of the popu
lation. Poor Rapa ! she was certainly to be pitied ;
they carried off her chUdren, and. In return, broughf;
her back a pestilence.
What are the advantages which Great Britain
has derived from her South Sea missions ? In the
first place, she has made for herself there both aUies
and friends. At first, one of the greatest obstacles to
the spread of the Gospel was a fear, on the part of
the natives, that the missionaries had a design on
their territory. The black and copper-coloured races
had been too much accustomed to look upon the
Christian missionary as only the advanced guard of
an army of invasion. England, already overdone
with colonies, has acted with pohcy and wisdom in
refraining from the annexation of any of these
islands to her vast empire ; and by doing this she
has gained the good opinion of the island chiefs.
Throughout this vast ocean desert, she can now
find convenient points for the re-victuaUing of her
fleets, and refitting stations for her whalers, as weU
as markets wliich afford a vent for the products

308 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
of her manufactories. A nation can Increase Its
power without extending its conquests, by thus ele
vating foreign races to a higher stage in the scale
of social life.

CHAPTER XIL
A female missionary enthusiast — William Moister — SaUy the
African nursemaid — Departure for Africa — General appear
ance of the coast — The dead man's house — Journey through
the desert — Waggons drawn by oxen — Travelling incidents
and impressions — A black sovereign — Results of his sneeze —
Have Englishwomen any finger-nails 1 — -Local fevers — Want
of water — Opinions of the Negroes as to Christianity — Robert
Moffat — Slavery and the slave- tra_de — A few words from
Livingstone — Landing of a cargo of slaves rescued by Eng
lish sailors — Opinions of the missionaries as to Negroes — The
Madagascar mission — Its martyrs — Ranavahona the blood
thirsty — Radama II. and the Rev. W. Ellis — Why the present
Queen of Madagascar defends and preserves her idols.
Africa is another part of the world to whidi the
friendly solicitude of the English has been long di
rected. Some years back I was visiting Cromer,
a httie town in Norfolk which is daily suffering
from the encroachments of the sea. A number of
placards announced a- missionary meeting, which I
had the pleasure of attending. It took place In a
small chapel, in which was erected a platform, on
which a female with marked featm-es made her ap
pearance, leading by the hand a young negress about
seven or eight years old, whose startled eye some
what resembled that of a gazeUe fresh caught in
the desert. This female was, in fact, the missionary ;
and the discourse which she addressed to her audi-

310 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
ence, with an almost inspired air, was something as
foUows :
" When I was quite a young girl, my brain
was ftdl of dreams about voyages and travels; and
I seemed to myself as if I were caUed upon to en-
Ughten the women and children of the black race.
My mind was quite unable to find rest, and this fixed
idea rendered me unfit for any other occupation. I
prayed to God, night and day, that He would fur
nish me with the means for realising the romance
of my youth. Some missionaries, with whom I had
made acquaintance, promised that they would send
me away into some of the colonies as soon as there
was any position vacant. I was stiU waiting, but
with impatience, when a distant relative chanced to
die, and left me a legacy of about 5001. It seemed
to me to be enough for the expenses of my voyage
and the full execution of my project ; so I embarked
In a vessel which was bound for the west coast of
Africa. We were then just in the month of August,
and everything in nature seemed to smUe on my
undertaking. Seated on a coil of rope on deck, I
used to look at the waves and think that I was
launched alone on the ocean of life, — ^yes, quite alone ;
but I felt full confidence in my own powers and in
the protection of Heaven. There happened to be on
board a minister — a Mr. C. — and his family, who were
going out as emigrants to the same coast as myself,
and offered to take me under their protection. After

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 311
a long and tedious voyage,' we at last arrived at
Sierra Leone ; and Mr. C. took me to the house of
a missionary resident there, who was very wilhng
to show us hospitality. I entertained him with the
account of all the good which I wished to do to the
poor negroes ; he smiled a little at my enthusiasm,
and made known to me many an obstacle and many
a danger which I had not foreseen in the path I
was about to fread. After hearing what he said,
I answered that God fits the shoulder to the burden,
and my mind being fully made up, I, -vvithout fear,
betook myself into the desert. As soon as I was
able to speak the language of the country a little,
I opened a school; — it was a littl^ wooden house,
and I laid down some mats on the ground for the
children to sit on, instead of benches. My first
lesson consisted in a distribution of glass beads, and
some other littie trifles, of which I taught the chU
dren th& names and the uses; it was amusing to
see then! dance about and array themselves in my
presents with aU kinds of cries and savage gestures.
My school prospered, and I soon had from twenty
to thirty pupils blacker than any crows. My time
was passing away very happily, for I felt conscious
of being useful, when I made the acquaintance of
a native family who had been converted to our re
ligion. The wife, who was beautiftd for a negress,
feU iU, and finaUy died in my arms, recommending
in her last words her child to my care. That child

312 * RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Is the young girl whom you now have before you.
The father, however, would- not give his consent to
my taking her away from his hut ; and he sent for
another woman to take charge of her ; but one day
he returned from the forest with a wound In his
leg, and was carried off some days after by a bad
fever. I now called to mind the promise which I
had made to the child's mother; and seeing that
the poor little thing was ill-treated, I made up my
mind to take her away from her nurse, who was
a heathen. It then became quite necessary for me
to go away, and to hide during the day-time, travel
ling on foot through the wilderness by night ; for
my carrying off the child had excited the anger of
the blacks. In this way I reached the nearest vil
lage, where I fell ill with fatigue. In the mean
time a war broke out among the tribes;! the houses
were burned down, and we were aU compelled to
seek 'safety in fiight. At night I was obliged to lie
do-wn in a thicket, where I was exposed to the
attacks of wUd beasts and the inclemency of the
weather. I had named the child Zelika, and she
always called me mother ; the idea that I had brought
her up as a Christian, and that I had thus fulfilled
a duty which was cast upon me, kept up my courage
amid all these trials. At last I managed to reach
a missionary station or estabUshment; and by the
interposition of the Society, I obtained the means
of returning to England. Many of my fond hopes

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 313
had been destroyed by time. I had won from idola-
fry but a very slender trophy; and yet I am again
ready to make my way to those sun -scorched lands,
if God wiU only grant me the opportunity*"
From the vehemence of her ideas It was easy to per
ceive that this female missionary belonged to rather
an eccenfriC genus. In the ordinary way, though,
things are managed in a much more simple manner.
A young man has been educated by one of the Dis
senting denominations ; it may happen that he has
shown some inclination for preaching the Gospel.
In all the ardour of youth, the mirage, of distant
counfries, and the rich harvests which faith may
there gather in, pass through his br^in like a vision
of the Apocalypse. He makes known his feelings
before a religious meeting in the district to which
he belongs ; and he Is sent to London to be examined
by a committee of missionaries. He pursues his
studies there for one or two years, in one of the
institutions maintained by the denomination to which
he belongs. A very trivial circumstance will some
times decide to what part of the world his destiny
shaU lead him.
Mr. WiUiam Moister, one of the most remark
able among the Wesleyan missionaries, was thus
waiting for his destination to be fixed, when, in
•1830, on a cold morning in October, a young black
girl presented herself at the door of the old Mission
House in Hatton Garden. She carried in her arms

314 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
a white child of an unhealthy appearance; It was
the child of the Rev. Richard MarshaU, who had
died, that very year, of malignant fever, near the
River Gambia, in West Africa. Two days after
the funeral, his wife embarked for England, taking
with her her young child and an African girl named
Sally, who was to take care of the little boy during
the passage. On her arrival at Bristol, Mrs. Mar
shaU found aU her sfrength exhausted, and expired
forty-eight hours after reaching her native shores.
It was, therefore, a poor little orphan which the faith
ful negress came to bring to the Mission House :
her love for the child seemed exfreme, and hugging
it in her black arms and bathing it with her tears,
she talked enthusiastically about her country. This
touching scene moved to tears some of the young
candidates for the mission-work. It now became
necessary to appoint a successor to Mr. MarshaU at
the station of the Gambia; but, in consequence of
the dreadful mortality which for some time past had
struck down, one after the other, so many of the
evangelists all along the west coast of Africa, the
Committee had determined, for the future, only to
send those who voluntarUy offered their services.
This incident determined the vocation of Mr. Moister.
This district was the most unhealthy and the most
dangerous that he could choose, but nevertheless It
was thither that he determined to go.
The place of his destination being fixed, the

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 315

young missionary i'eceives his directions, and then
generaUy gets married to some female, determined,
like himself, to brave all the dangers and fatigues
of a wandering hfe. Nothing now remains but to
bid fareweU to his family and his friends, and to
get ready for his long voyage. Accompanied by her
who is to share all his sfruggles, he sets sail in one
of the Society's vessels. What greets them on their
arrival ? To answer this question, let us group to
gether some of the details taken from their corre
spondence. First, the coast of Africa appears in
all its savage magnificence; the natives, who have
heard beforehand of the arrival of the new mis
sionary, throw themselves into the water and swim
round the boat -which brings him to the shore. At
the first glance everything seems grand to him, and
everything is new ; nothing that he sees bears any
resemblance to the scenery he has left behind in
pale England. Cocoa-nut trees swaying about in
the breeze ; majestic palm-trees ; crowds of blacks —
men, women, and half-clothed children; a dozen
tongues at once jabbering their sfrange accents in
his ears, not one word of which is inteUigible to
him, — such is the strange and yet exciting scene
which meets him on his arrival.
He is now conducted to his new residence, per
haps several miles away up the country; it is a house
protected by a verandah against the scorching* rays
of the sun, and standing detached in the midst of

316 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
a coUection of huts. This Is from henceforth his
home; and outside it has far from an unpleasant
appearance. They enter the court-yard ; and at the
foot of the stone steps leading into the ground-floor,
a beautiful wild-flower, a sort of exotic jasmine,
meets their eyes. " 0, this is a good omen !" cries
the missionary's wife ; " this flower is here to bid
us welcome." But stiU it is the absence of man
which has enabled this little flower to grow on the
door-step of the deserted house. The whole of the
interior is pervaded with an aspect of mourning and
terror ; this house is the house of a dead man, and
it remains in exactly the same state in which it was
left after the last sigh of the last occupier. The
young household learn, from the silence of the place,
the fate which they may themselves meet with, some
day or other, in this fatal climate. The waUs are
re-plastered, the floors are cleaned, the windows are
opened to let the life-gi-ving afr of nature blow into
this tomb-like dwelling.
Ha-ving flrst provided for the immediate require
ments of his domestic arrangements, the missionary
sets joyfuUy to work. His labours consist in the
superintendence of the school, at which about a hun
dred black children attend every day, and in preach
ing the word of God. Before long, however, these
humble duties do not seem sufficient for his zeal ; he
feels it necessary to extend the field of his mission,
and to get at some of the neighbouring tribes, who

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 317
live some way in the interior of the counfry. WiU
he take his wife with him, or wiU he leave her all
alone, surrounded as she is by blacks ? More com
monly she accompanies him ui his jomneyings.
TraveUing in West Africa Is, to teU the truth, no
such frifiing matter. The best roads are mere paths
through the forest and wilderness, tlirough which the
travellers advance in single ffie, each carrying a gun
or a cutiass to defend themselves against wild beasts.
Saddle-horses are sometimes used ; but in some dis
fricts these animals cannot exist very long, either
from the quahty of the grass, or from the effects of
the chmate ; the camel itself, though it may be said
to be a denizen of the eounfry, is not able, in the
west, to stand against forced marches. Thus, the
more general custom Is to go through the desert In
waggons drawn by oxen.
These waggons are made long and narrow, and
moimted on two pafrs of wheels, and are, besides,
covered with a large tilt resembling a tent, to protect
the traveUers against sun or rain. There are two
immense chests, one of which serves as a seat for the
driver, and the other, placed behind the waggon, is
used to hold the provisions for food. Under the
vehicle Is hung a kind of basket, in which they put
the cooking utensils, as well as the tools which are
intended to repair any accidents which may happen
on the road. The interior of this moving house is
divided into two compartments, in one of which the

318 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
missionary and his companion stay in the daytime,
sleeping in the other at night. The wife naturaUy
superintends aU the domestic arrangements ; and if
she have anything at aU of a skilful hand, she confers
on this nomadic household a degree of order and
comfort which might be envied by many a family in
a fixed habitation. In the daytime she may be seen
comfortably seated. Working at her needle ; whilst her
husband superintends the men and the cattle, or, if all
goes well, quietly gives himself up to reading.
The heavy waggon is drawn by a team of oxen,
which varies in number from twelve to eighteen,
according to the circumstances of the journey ; these
animals are almost always of the same colour and
very like one another, and form a group fraught with
energy and vigour. Three men are necessary to man
age a waggon, — the driver, conductor, and a helper
who takes care of the beasts intended for food. When
all the preparations for departure are concluded, the
driver, seated on his box, cracks his immense whip,
and the ponderous machine goes jolting along the
rough and scarcely marked-out roads. They proceed
at the average rate of about three miles an hour
through grand and picturesque but rather gloomy
scenery ; for Africa is, in some paits, a disagreeable
country, and appears as if dried up by the sun. After
three or four hours' travelling it is necessary to halt
and unharness the panting buUocks ; some oasis in
the wilderness is chosen for this purpose. The con-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 319
ductor then gives the word to the men, and the vehi
cle stops ; the beasts, freed from the yoke, immedi
ately make their way to the brook or pool, where
they drink plentifully, and afterwards to the natural
pasture lying round, where they crop the fresh grass.
During all this time the men have coUected pieces of
dry wood and lighted a fire ; and the kettie, which
plays so Important a part in English domestic life, is
suspended to a sort of tripod and commences its
cheerful song. The cloth is laid on the grass or on
the smooth surface of a rock ; and, all preparations
ended, each stands hat in hand while the mission
ary calls down the blessing of Heaven on their frugal
meal. The men taking their tea, the sheep and goats
lying about, the oxen browsing, — aU this constitutes
a curious and pleasing scene.
After a rest of one or two hours they continue
their jommey tiU nightfaU ; and they spend the even
ing round thefr bivouac fire, in singing hymns,
talking, and praying. They all go to rest In good
time ; it not unfrequently happens that a storm may
rage in the night, but thefr waggon-house is firmly
closed up, and the serving-men, having taken the
precaution of stretching the canvas of the tent down
over the waggon-wheels, can sleep quietly under the
vehicle, quite protected from the rain. The next day
at uiaybreak the oxen are driven together; and after
a modest breakfast they again take their way amid
the solitudes.

320 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
As a journey Uke this often lasts for months, it
can be easily understood what preparations and pro
visions are requisite for it. Sometimes they happen
in the course of their journey to kill an antelope, and
thus, from the chance acquisitions of the chase, some
littie additions are made to the general stock of eat
ables. Tlie greater part of the animals which they
meet witii are not, however, of any important assist
ance to them ; they see flocks of ostriches running by
beating their wings, or froops of jackals which howl
all night in the thickets. They must not always ex
pect to find level ground for their waggon to travel
on ; every now and then they have to climb steep
hUls, or to get through dangerous passes, between
rough and pointed rocks ; . everyone then gets out
and proceeds on foot, only too happy if the pole or
something else does not give way amid the rough
shocks which are given to the pondeirous machine.
Sometimes rivers suddenly bar their path ; they are
then obliged either to find out fords through the
course of it, or to construct timber rafts to be pushed
over by bold swimmers to the other bank of the river.
After some time too it is most necessary that they
should think about making bread and washing thefr
linen; these things naturally faU to the women's
share, and they take advantage of a fine day and of
meeting with some clear rl-vulet at the foot of a hiU ;
but in Africa tiie brightest days are often interrupted
by storms. The tiiunder suddenly roUs, followed by

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 321
a deluge of hail and rain, which forces those who are
at work to take reftige in their waggon. An hour
afterwards, perhaps, the sun shines again; but the
fire Is put out, and the dough is soaked with the
water from above, and it Is necessary to begin the
domestic preparations all over again.
It often happens that they pass near some -viUage,
or at least a coUection of huts ; what a capital oppor-
tunify this Is for a sermon, especially if it is a Sun
day ! With the help of the waggon and the tent, an
open-air church Is soon improvised. In which are
ranged men, women, and children ; a young black
shepherd happens to pass just at the moment with his
flock of goats, and he is Invited to stop there for a
time, and to take a part In the divine service.
After many an obstacle the missionary at last
arrives at his journey's end, — the territory of the
tribe -with whom he wishes to confract relations of
friendship. Some armed men rush suddenly from
behind a thicket, and conduct him to the presence of
the king; there he. needs aU his eloquence and diplo
macy to plead successfuUy the cause of the Gospel.
I must, however, mention how much he is helped by
his wife, who is usuaUy very sensible of the honour
of an interview with a sovereign, even though he be
a black one. She offers to his savage majesty a cup
of coffee prepared with her own fair hands. As
English ladles always wear gloves, even in the desert,
the shape of their fingers is very often a subject of

322 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
astonishment to the royal savage, and he asks how it
is that white women have no finger-nails. The mis
sionary then proposes to address the people, and if
his request be granted, a meeting Is at once organ
ised for the occasion. The king himself makes his
appearance in a car drawn by two hundred soldiers,
and having been taken under a free, receives the
homage of his subjects. Everyone sits down on the
grass, and it is then the missionary's part to deUver
a discourse to his audience ; in general he is listened
to with much attention, only that every time the king
sneezes, they turn to him and compliment him.
More or less content with these ffi'st begmnlngs,
the missionary takes leave of the friendly tribe, and
returns to his camp. The latter part of the journey
is often the most weai'isome ; the oxen are tfred out,
and often fall, one after the other, and are not able
to get up again. If the missionary and his -wife have
not yet been seasoned by an attack of the local fever,
how very much are they now exposed to catch this
disorder in these low-lying and scorching regions!
To guard against such casualties as these, they carry
medicines with them ; but yet the waggon, which set
off so cheerfuUy, is very often at its return Uttle
better than a traveUing infirmary.
But yet this sort of life must have its charms, for
the missionaries' wives often speak of it with plea
sure in their letters :— " here," they say, " natm-e
supplies the place of so much ;" — their dining-room

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 323

is sometimes formed by a grove of orange-trees,
under the shade of which stands a rough wooden
table surrounded with some seats. The great vexa
tion in Afi'ica is the want of water ; and so the rain
is greeted by the children with the most flattering
epithets ;— they caU it "good," "lovely," "kind,"
&o., and a crowd of negro children run out with
vessels of aU shapes to catch it in. The water-ffiter
stands inside the house, and is guarded by the mis
sionary's wife almost hke something sacred ; it is her
duty to keep It fiUed with water, and see that no
one empties it carelessly. The gardens, where they
have a weU to use and indusfrious arms to apply the
water, look like islands of fruit and flowers in an
ocean of sterility.
EngUsh missionaries in no way partake of the
American idea as to the absolute inferlorify of the
negroes; on the contrary, they aU bear witness to
the good quaUties of the Ethiopian race ; and when
sometimes they are forced to blush. It is for the bad
conduct of the white men, who traverse the country
in pursuit of ivory and osfrich-feathers, who give the
very worst examples to the black population. The
coloured children in the schools show also a certain
amount of facilify in the acquirement of knowledge.*

* Three negro youths who had been saved from slavery were
lately brought to England by Mr. Eigby, formerly Consul at
Zanzibar, and were placed in various institutions, where they
were distinguished by their attainments : one of them was always

324 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Among the men who have done the most for the edu
cation of the black race, I must mention especially
the venerable Robert Moffat, father-in-law of Living
stone, the great traveUer, and also himself an able
missionary. Upright and ffrm as a palm-tree in the
desert, notwithstanding his great age ; all alone, the
only foreigner in the midst of an almost barbarous
counfry, he himself superintends a field of apostolic
labour, in which he is much assisted, especiaUy in
the schools, by his daughter Jane. The great objec
tion made by those of the negro idolaters who are
unwiUing to be converted to Christianity, is " that the
religion of the white man Is^made for the white man,
and the reUgion of the black man for the blacks."
There may very probably be a basis of physiological
truth in this artless reasoning. Thus, some mission
aries of rather narrow -views seek with might and
main to instil uninteUigible dogmas into the black
race ; others, however, who are more enhghtened,
are contented with endeavouring to implant hi their
minds the generous features of universal morahty.*
at the head of his class. We are, though, assured that at about
the age of fourteen a critical epoch occurs in the faculties of the
negro. I think the truth is, that our European methods are not
always adapted to the peculiar development of his inteUect.
* Dr. Colenso, at a meeting of the Geographical Society in
London, declared that at least two centuries must elapse before
the Zulus would be able to comprehend the theological subtleties
of the Athanasian Creed. " And it is a good thing," he added ;
" for between this and then, the Church of England wiU have had
time to modify some of her doctrines."

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 325
For many years the English missionaries had much
more reason to complain of their own countrymen,
the slaveholders, than of the negro idolaters. With
regard to the former, they found to thefr sorrow that
their reign was put an end to in 1838 ; but in fact,
slavery is yet very far from being reaUy abolished on
the coast of Africa. And how can it be abolished,
when in the Interior of this unfortunate country, where
the history of the black race Is written in characters
of blood, chiefs seU their subjects, fathers sell thefr
children, and friends seU friends ? This frade in hu
man flesh and blood is chiefly carried on by the Arabs,
and the slave, bartered about from hand to hand, gets
to be considered among these fraders as a sort of cur
rent money. It not unfrequentiy happens that vessels
engaged in the slave-frade are captured on the eastern
coast, after furious engagements between the Arabs
and the EngUsh sailors. The missionaries and thefr
wives are usuaUy present at the heart-rending scene
of the disembarking of the slaves; the saUors first
bring on shore the Uttie children of fi-om three to six
years old, and lay them on the sand with rough jokes,
patting them on the head like so many httle black
lambs ; then come the young gfrls, some of whom
have perhaps been wounded in the fight, the mothers
with their nurslings, and at last the men, ftdl of
wonder that they should excite so much Interest. A
cargo of 350 negroes are sometimes crammed into a
smaU confined vessel, in which aU the food they get

326 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
is a handful of boiled rice every day. The Arabs
calculate, that on account of the dreadful mortaUty
which usually prevails on board, only one negro in
three wIU reach the destined port; but even this
smaU proportion wiU nevertheless yield them a large
pecuniary profit.
The Enghsh missionaries are now reckoning much
on the abohtion of slavery in the Southern States of
America, the result of the late war, under the idea
that it will put a complete end to this odious traffic.
At all events, the efforts which they have made in
Africa, with the -view of mitigating the horrors of
this system, ought to insure for both these men and
their country the hearfy thanks of the Ethiopian race.
In 1865, at the meeting of the London Missionary
Sociefy, Dr. Livingstone related, that when the pub
lic whip (for there reaUy Is such an institution) was
hard at work in the interior of the country, some of
the unfortunate negroes who were being flogged cried
out even under the lash : " 0 for the English ! when
wiU the English come?"
In the early part of the nineteenth century, the
attention of England was drawn to Madagascar ; the
twenty-two states into which the Island was divided
had just faUen into the power of the Hovas, a -vigorous
and warUke race. In 1820, some men were sent
out by a missionary sociefy in London, who, though
having received a liberal education, possessed some
knowledge of the mechanical arts ; they were kindly

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 327
received by the king, Radama I., who was too much
of a god himself to yield tip very readily his posi
tion to another deify,* but stiU was quite incUned to
give countenance to the schools established by the
strangers. In 1828 Radama died ; the legitimate
hefr to the cro-wn was his son Rakotobe, a disciple
of the missionaries, of whom they had the very best
hopes, but In their plans they had not reckoned on
the ambition of a woman. Ranavalona, one of the
twelve sultanas of the late king, swore that she would
obtain possession of the sceptre ; she caused Rakotobe
to be assassinated, and set up a reign of terror
aealnst the Christians. " The bowels of the earth
shaU be dug up," she cried, " and the lakes shaU be
dredged with nets, before one single Christian shall
escape the justice of the counfry." In fact she re-
inaugurated an era of sanguinary persecution, and
added to the long series of martyrs for the faith.
The native Christians compared her to a black
tigress, with but one white spot; this white spot
was maternal affection; she loved her son Rakoto-
Radama, a young man of seventeen, who had
secretiy attended the rehgious assembUes of the
Christian neophytes.

* During a storm, he amused himself by firing off his cannon ;
and when the English Consul asked the reason for his making
such a noise, " God up above," replied the king, "is speaking by
means of thunder, and I by my cannon : we are answering one
another."

328 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
After a reign marked by persecutions and punish
ments, Ranavalona died in 1861. Rakoto had a rival
who disputed with him the right to the throne; he
caused the latter to be shut up in a forfress, and was
proclaimed king under the title of Radama II. The
new sovereign recalled the English missionaries, who
had been driven away from the island by the perse
cutions ; they soon returned, and one of thefr num
ber, the Rev. WiUiam EUis, became the Mentor to
this black Telemachus. The exiled Christians also
returned ; the Bibles, which had been buried, again
made their appearance out of the dust of the wilder
ness, and those who had been persecuted showed with
pride the marks of the fetters that they had worn in
the last reign. The character and conduct of the
young king did not, however, at aU answer to the
opinion which the missionaries had formed of him,
and after rather a short reign, he was deposed from
the throne and put to death.
At the present time the Christian religion Is tole
rated in Madagascar, although the government itself
Is an Idolatrous one. Mr. Pakenham, the English
consul, has lately negotiated a freaty, by virtue of
which, both his feUow-counfrymen, and the native
Christians, have a right to enjoy rehgions liberfy.
This promising state of things has reanimated the
zeal of the Protestant missions, which now gain
ground day by day ; but they have considerable ob
stacles to overcome In the political constitution of

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 329
the country. The present Queen of Madagascar be
lieves that her prerogatives depend on the main
tenance of the old customs ; the Idols consecrate her
power.

CHAPTER XIIL
China opened to the English missionaries — How little we must
believe in the intolerance of the Chinese — ^A mandarin's
eulogium on the Gospel — Have the Chinese any religion ? —
The small value they set upon their gods — 'Why they will
not change them — Material prosperity of idolatry — Has it,
on this account, more enduring vitality 1 — Plan of action
necessary to convince the Chinese — 'Why they preserve their
religion without believing it — Effects of the appearance of
Christianity in India — Colenso and the Hindoo controver
sialists — Decline of idolatry — A god at the bottom of a well
— Influence of education on the decline of the national reli
gion — Associations of free - thinkers — Various prophecies
announce a change of religion — Obstacles to the spread of
Christianity — The system of caste— Answers of the Hindoos
to the Christian missionaries— Hindoo plans to appease a
restless soul — Itinerant missionaries — ^Women of India, and
their so-called seclusion — Mrs. Cooper — Stationary mission
aries — Mr. Joseph Higgins — A merry Christmas in the Bud-
waU Valley — New system of universal writing — Services to
civilisation rendered by missionaries.
We have hitherto seen the moral influence of Eng
land engaged in a struggle with Ignorant and artiess
races, compeUed to acknowledge in Christianify aU
the features of a higher class of religion : the case is
not at aU the same when the missionaries have to
deal with nations already possessing, not only a
system of philosophy and divinity, but also sacred
books. Those peoples which had only gods of wood.

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 331
gave them up without much resistance into the hands
of their foreign insfructors ; but how much more
stubbornly do men defend spiritual idols! This is
exactiy what has taken place in the Celestial Empire.
The Enghsh missions, to which, since 1807, a
path has been opened out in China by the learned
studies of Dr. Morrison, began their labours In 1845,
when an imperial decree declared that the Christian
religion was to be tolerated in the Celestial Empire.
The field for proselytism was still very much limited
by the laws of the country. For some time the
insurrection which threatened the government was
reckoned on as likely to throw down certain barriers,
'and to favour to some extent the ¦views of the pro
pagators of the Bible. It seemed. In fact, as if a
certain spiritualist element animated the fury of these
new sectarians. They were soon, however, com
peUed to forego these lUusions ; the capture of Nankin
terminated the war between the imperiahsts and
the insurgents, without the latter being in any way
attracted to Christianity. The return of many thou
sands of fugitives to their homes, the resumption of
aU their indusfrial labours, in fine, all the advan
tages of peace, constituted a state of things very
propitious for the work of Protestant missions. The
freaty, too, that was concluded by Lord Elgin,
guaranteed to the missionaries aU the protection that
the authorify of the chief of the state was able to
afford them. Upon this the various London societies

332 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
organised a system of colportage of the Bible, and of
itinerant preaching.
These Gospel-bearing traveUers made their way
alone, or almost alone, into the midst of an un
explored counfry, flourishing towns, and markets,
to which flowed all the productions of commerce.
Others established themselves in the large cities,
where they opened hospitals and schools. At Nan
kin, for instance, they hope to gain over the souls of
the Chinese by healing the maladies of thefr bodies.
The female school presents, during the fine season of
the year, one of the most agreeable of scenes : each
of the proselytes wears an aster in the knot of black
hair which crowns the top of their heads, and pots of
the same flower ornament the whole room. Who
then can talk of the Intolerance of the Chinese ?
Evidently this is not the rock that they wiU spUt on ;
at the present time the English missionaries find
friends even among the mandarins. One of the
latter, induced merely by a letter of recommendation,
had a table covered with a piece of red cloth placed
in his courtyard, and himself presented the Christian
orator to a numerous audience, teUing them that this
sfranger had come from afar to talk to them about
his religion, and that he had invited him to address
them. But notwithstanding all this, was this man
any the more disposed to abandon the reUgion of
his counfry ? No, Indeed. Christianity meets with
something of the same kind of opposition from the

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 333
educated Chinese, that Jesus experienced from the
pharisees, scribes, and priests in Judaea; they win
over but few proselytes, except among the lower
classes ; whilst the disciples of Confticius, the magis
trates and the scholars, receive them with the cold
disdain of scepticism, or with a bantering approba
tion. "Very good docfrine," cried a mandarin,
who had just heard the missionaries read to the
people some pages of the Gospel; "truly exceUent
doctrine, exactly like that in our books !"
The Celestial Empire presents the wonderful
spectacle of a more or less atheistic people in the
midst of a multiplicify of gods. Have the Chinese
any reUgion at aU?* Those who have lived any
time in the country are very doubtful about it. At
first sight thefr public worship seems to be one of the
numerousforms.of idolafry; but much they care for
thefr idols ! They hold these poor gods so cheaply,
that occasionally they have been sold by the priest
together with the temple they abode in.f The wor-

* Near Bristol, at a charming place called Honeywood, lives
the Englishman who is best acquainted with China. Sir John
Francis Davis was Minister Plenipotentiary of Great Britain in
the Celestial Empire, and Governor of the colony at Hong Kong.
He has written one of the best books which there is about this
country ; and yet, when I asked the baronet one day if the Chi
nese believed in the existence of a God, he was perplexed in
answering me.
t At Nankin, the new missionary hospital consists of a former
temple, which was made over to them, images and all, by the
Buddhist priest for a sum of money.

334 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
ship of their ancestors, and the genii of the earth,
exercises, it is frue, a more Influential empire over
tiieir consciences, and groves of ftmereal frees con
secrate the memory of their dead. But the obstacles
to the progress of Christianity do not Ue in this
direction. These obstacles must be sought for in
what Lamennais caUed, among us, indifferentism in
the matter of reUgion. The Chinese certainly care
but Uttie for their divinities ; but they care stiU less
for changing their religious books for the Gospel.
" Our religion may very hkely be false," they reply
to the missionaries' persuasions ; "but at any rate. It
is a custom of our country, and can be traced back
to a remote antiquify. Our idols may be, as you
say, mere fabrications of wood and clay, and our
gods may be the phantoms of the dead ; but after
all, what does it matter ? In reUgion, objective ex
istence is of no great consequence, the subjective
mode is the great thing. Why should we abandon
the fictions of our counfry, trifling as they may be,
for these foreign myths ? Blot out from your books
the name of Jesus, or at least his title as Son of God,
and then we wUl read them." In fact, the edu
cated Chinese are in the habit of seeking for their
weapons from moral phUosophy rather than from
external and exploded ceremonies, when they wish to
combat the dogmas of young Europe. But yet, let
them not deceive themselves, their national worship
has lost nothing of its old material splendour. What

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 335
a mean figure the poor Methodist missionary makes
amid the marble temples fuU of gilded images, the
rich monasteries, and the official priestly residences
of China ! AU this is certainly no guarantee at aU of
stabUity, and Roman paganism had never been so
rich as just at the eve of Its faU.
If we may trust the opinion of the English mis
sionaries, the whole religious' edifice of the Chinese is
threatened with the same fate ; it Is cracking on all
sides, and we are verging upon a change, the results
of which will extend over a tlurd part of Asia. The
opportunity is certainly a favourable one, and one
can weU understand the zealous efforts which our
neighbours are bringing to bear in this new crusade
of thought. Looking at their commerce and their
diplomacy, without mentioning more noble motives,
the English, above aU others, must have the highest
interest in implanting Christianity on the ruins of
the MongoUan idolafry ; but how great are the diffi
culties in the way ! The number of reapers Is in
deed few, though the harvest is so great. Can a
handful of men, scarcely able to speak the language
of the counfry, hope to friumph over the obstinacy
and disdain of a race infatuated with their own
merits ? Some enlightened missionaries acknowledge
this themselves ; and they feel that to the philosophy
of the Chinese it is necessary that philosophy should
be opposed, to thefr literature some of the best speci
mens of our own, and to thefr pretended learning a

336 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
more profomid and more exact science. In order
that this should be the case, it would be necessary
that men of talent should immediately proceed to
China, and that during a residence often years there,
they should take every pains to acquire a competent
knowledge of the language, and that they should
then write freatises capable of convincing the edu
cated classes of the country. But where are we to
find these young scholars ?
In the absence of such agents as these, they en
deavour to win over, among the natives, those who
have succeeded in passing the examinations which
bring with them In China both honour and social
distinction. The missionaries have attained their
point with .certain masters of arts, restiess spfrits,
who have in their time played aU kinds of parts,
such as soothsayers, astrologers, and charlatans. As
they are acquainted with the books of Confucius,
they are better able than some of their countrymen
to confute the arguments of his disciples. Can they,
though, entertain a hope that, with such materials
as these, they wiU obtain any Influence on a com
munity of three hundred and ninefy-sIx miUions of
souls? Is this nation, however, altogether ¦wrong from
its own point of view in rejecting the cup that Is
offered to it as a cure for all its evils? When I
was visiting the museum of the London Missionary
Sociefy, I noticed a bottie of a curious shape, with a

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 337
label attached to it, on which I read these words
from the Gospel, which were written on it: "No
man putteth new wine into old bottles ; else the new
wine doth burst the bottles, and the wine Is spilled,
and the botties wiU be marred." This piece of advice
appeared to me to be directly addressed to the Mon
goUan race, and I was scarcely astonished that they
had foUowed it by instinct, as it were, though quite
ignorant of the letter of the Book. Because the in
flux of these new ideas would dissolve all thefr old
social forms, China, with no other fanaticism than
that of her own conservatism, and without faith In
her gods, resists with all her force the invasion of
Christian doctrines. If she ¦were to accept the Gos
pel, she must change her manners, her institution^,
and her usages — a long and painful labour, which
ended in breaking up the Roman Empire. China,
therefore, better loves to slumber on, wrapped up In
her antiquity, and in the effeminate and apathetic
fascination of her polytheistic fancies, as In a dream
• excited by the fumes of opium.
India, too, is another Asiatic nation which Eng
land has an interest quite peculiar to herself in
wishing to convert. Queen Victoria reckons more
Mahometan subjects than pay aUegiance to the Grand
Turk, and she has more idolaters under her sway
than any sovereign on earth, no matter who, if we
except the Emperor of China. Our neighbours are
very well aware that no one has reaUy conquered a

338 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
people until they have vanquished their gods ; the
operations, therefore, of Protestant missions in India
commenced with the present century.
The appearance of Christianity had the effect at
first of reanimating the zeal of the Hindoos for their
own religion ; the richest and best-educated amongst
them joined together in publishing some of their an
cient rehgious works, which had never before been
printed, and the manuscripts of which were as rare
as they were costly. These poetical annals, contain
ing the docfrines, rites, and ceremonies of their wor
ship, appeared in monthly parts, and met with sub
scribers in every town. As they wished to forbid
these books to the curiosify of the missionai-ies, it
was recommended to the Hindoos not to make them
kno-wn to any one belonging to another reUgion.
Fearing that these records of the national faith might
not form a sufficient rampart against foreign Ideas,
they founded both newspapers and magazines, edited
by natives, at Bombay and Poonah. All the Hindoo
sects took part in this movement ; the Parsees,- or
fire-worshippers, who held a high rank in the coun
fry, owing to. their intelUgence and their enterprising
spirit, defended the system of Zoroaster in a monthly
misceUany, and pubUshed the Zend-Avesta, with a
commentary and notes In Enghsh.
The religion of the Hindoos has now just arrived
at that position In which paganism found itself when
the school of Alexandria appeared ; it is seeking to

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND, 339
purify itseff and its dogmas, to go back to Its sources,
and to re-invigorate its powers by discussion. It is
not content ,with merely defending itself, but it also
attacks its enemies ; the Indian controversialists avail
themselves of the works of Voltaire and other philo
sophers of the eighteenth century, as means for re
pulsing the docfrines of Revelation. There Is scarcely
a work of historical or reUgious exegesis published
either in France or England that does not find Its
echo far across the seas, in the depths of Hindostan.
The name of Bishop Colenso is just as well known
in the bazaars of Benares as In the schools at Oxford.
The English missionary thinks that he wiU have to
contend with Buddha only, but every day he finds
himself opposed by the Essays and Reviews, Michelet's
Bible, and Renan's Vie de Jdsus.
As for commonplace Idolafry, It loses ground
every day. In vain are the waUs of certain to-wns,
whose names recaU some of the divinities of the Hin
doo pantheon, decorated from house to house with
the legends of the Brahmlnical mythology painted on
wood ; aU this pomp and sacred phantasmagoria
conceal but poorly the decUne of their faith. Their
temples are faUing Into ridn, and no one cares to
buUd them up again. A missionary came back into
an Idolafrous disfrict to preach the Gospel, and in
going through a -viUage he met a man who stopped
him, and said, " Have you heard what has happened
to Runga Saorma, the great god of our locaUty ?"

340 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
" What is the matter with him ?" asked the English
man. " Some thieves have got into his, temple and
torn him down from his pedestal, and have thrown
him into the bottom of a well. Formerly, an occur
rence like this would have caused great excitement;
we should have been compelled to raise among us a
large sum of money to get him out of the weU, and
to have him reconsecrated by the hands of the priests,
and to replace him on his altar." "And are you not
going to do all this now?" " No ; we have all come
to the conclusion, that as he was not able to save him
self, he would hardly be able to do much in the way
of saving others."
Such is the tone of religious feeling even in the
country ; but it is in the great centres of population
that the old Hindoo worship especiaUy appears to be
tottering to its faU. As one among the causes that
have brought about this decadency, we must name
the, education afforded in the schools established by
the English Government. In these schools they
strictiy respect the liberty of conscience of the na
tives, but at the same time they teach them the ele
ments of aU secular acquirements. According to the
Hindoo system, every thing is connected with a di
vine principle ; and the Brahmins were in the habit
of assuring their disciples that no fact existed either
in geography, astronomy, or indeed any other sci
ence, which had not been revealed In their sacred
books. Rehgions, Uke governments, perish through

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 341
absolutism ; and when the English schools ¦were
opened, and the dogmas of the Vedas were brought
face to face with Western science, the Brahmins
could no longer maintain the parallel, and immedi
ately lost aU authority over the youthful intellect.
The study of the laws of nature vanquished the gods,
in the very cradle of polytheism.
But Christians must not be too precipitate in re
joicing at this triumph ; for the breaking up of the
colossal edifice of Hindoo superstition seems but little
Ukely to result in much profit to their own faith.
Under various names, such as Brahmo-sijah, Brah-
mo-somaj, and Veda-somajam, a new sect has lately
arisen, which stands aloof from aU revelations, true
or false. The members of these Indian fraternities
agree with each other in one point only — the belief
In a Supreme Being. Opposed as they are both to
Christianity and to the religion of the Hindoos, and
finding, or thinking that they find, in the Bible, as
weU as in the Vedas, passages which are inconsistent
with science, they determined, as they themselves
say, to cut the cable which connects the minds of
other men Vith supernatural authority. These dis
ciples of rationalism are also distinguished by a libe
ral spirit of toleration, and they mutually engage to
respect every opinion. They sometimes have to ob
serve various customary ceremonies, as, for instance,
in marriages and burials ; but they only do this to
avoid wounding the feelings of the commuiiity in

342 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
which they Uve. With the exception of these frifiing
sacrifices to existing prejudices, their course of ac
tion indicates the greatest freedom of thought ; thcy
openly declare, that in aU forms of reUgion which go
beyond pure Deism, they can recognise nothing but
the Ufeless reUcs of worn-out superstitions. Associa
tions such as these, surrounded by aU the dclat which
inteUect and wealth can give, cannot fail to exer
cise a powerful infiuence over the educated youth
of Bombay, Madras, and Calcutta. Thus, a genera
tion of thinkers Is being formed who astonish the
English missionaries by the boldness and compre
hensiveness of their philosophical opinions. When
they speak at pubhc meetings, the high moral tone
which they assume defies the censure of the very-
Christians themselves ; without making any distinc
tion of race or country, they quote, in support of
their ideas, aU those authors, fraveUers, and savans,
who have, as it were, brought together the uttermost
parts of the earth, and smoothed the way for the
unity of the human race.
Out of the hundred and fifty miUions of Inhabi
tants who people India, it is calculated' that about
one hundred and twelve thousand have been con
verted to Christianity. This Is but a scanty sheaf
from a harvest so abundant, and yet the missionaries
have never been so fiUl of hope. Do not the Shas-
ters, one of the sacred books, announce a twelfth
incarnation of Vishnu ? Judging from the Inter-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 343
pretations of the Brahmins themselves, we are on the
eve of some great event, which wiU modify the reU
gion of India ; eveiyone foresees this change, and
the Christians are waiting for it ; but the question is,
will it answer to the idea which the English mission
aries have formed of it ? It wiU be sufficient here to
point out some of the obstacles which oppose the
progress of the Gospel in India; and first of all, the
system of caste.
The religion of the Hindoos, agreeably to the
usages of the country, aims at basing the principle
of all social distinctions on the sacred class alone.
The case is quite different with Christianity, which
proclaims, at least in principle, that all men are equal
before God. Thus it is that the missionaries recruit
most of their partisans out of the inferior castes, and
especiaUy out of that of the Pariahs ; the other Hin
doos fear that, by changing their religion, they wUl
lose the honour and consideration which appertains
to their famUy. Another thing is, that in India the
missionaries have not to deal with mere vague and
absurd legends and a shapeless theogony, as in the
South Seas ; the BKndoos, on the confrary, can op
pose them with their traditions, their literary records,
and their poetry of lofty inspiration. It is a conflict
of books — the Bible against the Vedas and the Koran.
The Mahometans, who are very numerous in India,
maintain that the Old and New Testaments were al
ready existing in the time of the Prophet, and that

344 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
Mahomet has acknowledged a portion of them to be
the Word of God, and that his followers have no
reason for going farther than he did, as regards be
lief in the Scriptures.
One of the greatest arguments that can be used
to savages In favour of Christianity is the superiority
of English civUisation. " Our ancestors," the Eng
lish tell them, " were barbarous themselves ; but mis
sionaries visited thefr island, and brought to them a
Book which entirely changed the state of things."
This mode of reasoning succeeds but little with the
Chinese and Hindoos, who, after all, enjoy the bene
fits of a social system flourishing in many respects,
though differing much from our own. " What was
your God about," they say contemptuously to the
English missionaries, " aU the time that your ances
tors were worshipping the frees of the forest ?"
On the other hand, we must not forget that the
Indian empire, being, as it were, a conquered pro
vince of Great Britain, the natives are led to look
upon the Christian religion as one of the signs of
conquest. Some years ago, at the conclusion of the
mutiny which broke out in the Bengal army, the mis
sionary societies of London, who atfributed this con
flict to the infiuence of the prevailing tone of thought,
made fi-esh pecuniary sacrifices for the purpose of con-
sohdating the Christian faith in India. In such a case
as this, they naturaUy sought to make use of Indian
converts, whose education and social rank would In-

RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 345
spire respect among the natives, without exciting
those prejudices which are too often associated with
the feeling of a foreign supremacy.
It Is perhaps but littie known in Europe that the
restiessness of uncertainty, looked upon as a sign of
an epoch of fransition, is a disease which is not at aU
pecuhar to our own continent and communities. This
moral contagion exists in India, where we may find
Werthers and Renes of the dark-skinned race. One
of this class. Impelled by vague aspirations, had
roamed through every sect and every school In his
search for enUghtenment. That which he now longed
for was rest for his soul ; but how far he was from
obtaining it ! To quiet the perturbation of his mind,
an Indian priest whispered into his ear some caba
listic monosyUables ; this remedy, as may weU be
supposed, failed In producing the wished-for effect.
An ascetic then endeavoured to persuade him that
these words were not the right ones, and that if he
wished to aUay the anguish of his heart. It was ano
ther formula that he must repeat. Three years passed
away in these exercises before he knew and embraced
Christianity, In which faith, if we are to believe the
missionaries, he at last found inward peace.
These conversions, though, are rare among the
educated class. Are we on this account to consider
that the mission-work has been altogether unfruitful?
No indeed. The reflexion of Christian Ideas has
developed In the Asiatic character the features of a

346 RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
more elevated morality, and has compeUed the man
who has renounced his gods to seek out a reUgion in
his own conscience. By investigating the sacred an
nals of India it has also been discovered that idolafry
was a mere innovation in that country, and that mono
theism, on the contrary, was the ancient faith.*
English missionaries in India may be di-vided
Into two classes — the itinerant, and the resident. The
former visit the towns and country districts of the
peninsula. Mixed up with the people generally, they
are accustomed to preach during the festivals and
public ceremonies. They are to be seen at the gates
of the temples, on the road fraversed by the car of
Juggernaut, crushing its human -victims under Its
blood-stained wheels, — on the banks of the Jumna,
bearing along on its stream, aU night long, rafts of
straw carrying lamps Ughted in honour of the god
dess. Some of them make It their special task to appeal
to the women of the counfry. The seclusion of the
Indian females is neither so general nor so sfrict as
is commonly imagined in Europe, The wives of the
princes and of some rich Mahometans very seldom

* The Mahars, who are considered the primitive inhabitants
of the country, have preserved the idea of a God, one and indi
visible. Some of them, when they heard the missionaries preach
the Gospel, cried out : " This is exactly the doctrine which our
masters teach us 1" One of their sacred books declares that the
worship of images is an innovation, and that a supreme Being
should alone be worshipped.

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 347
leave the gyncedum, and they stiU have their faces
covered with a veil ; but they receive visits. As for
the other females, they walk about the sfreets and
pubhc places at almost aU hours of the day, and spend
quite as much time outside the house as the men do.
Sometimes a missionary preaching in the open air
spies out one of these brown daughters of Eve look
ing out of a window, where she can listen aU the
time without being seen by the crowd. The married
missionary possesses also an additional means of get
ting at these shy unbelievers ; he has his wife by his
side, and she can make her way Into the houses, and
sometimes Into the palaces. There are some among
the female helpers of the missionary who share with
him even the ministerial office Itself.
A report was spread at Ralmaiswi, forty-two
miles from Nagpore, that a lady (Mrs. Cooper) had
arrived there, who spoke the Mahratta language;
more than 200 women went from the town to visit
her in her tent ; her husband was away at the time
preaching -in the bazaar, so she took advantage of the
opportunify, and read and expounded the Bible to
them. " We should not have dared to come," these
women observed, "If the sahib had been a man;
but as it Is a person of our own sex, we can see no
harm in gathering from her lips that which our hus
bands are Ustening to In the bazaar."
The missionaries with fixed residences belong
mostly to the Church of England ; some of them

348 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
live quite in the interior of the country, as for In
stance, Mr. Joseph Higgins, who came to settle,
some Uve or six years ago, in the long valley of
Budwail, shut in on aU sides with dark hiUs covered
with low-growing forests and rough bushes. The
valley Is fiat, with lakes glittering in the tropical sun,
and numerous villages half hidden by the taU tama
rind and fig-trees which overshadow them. He hves
there, almost the only European, amid a wild Hindoo
population, the tribe of the Malas. His hut stands
on the bank of a river in a gloomy district, far from
any other habitation ; it is, however, sheltered by a
clump of fine trees, under which the missionary takes
his daily walk, or sits in the evening to meditate.
Many an Lidian labourer, passing the house on his
way to the viUage, stops and wonders at the sight of
the padre, his head bent down over a book, or black
ening paper with a pen fuU of Ink, and thus engaged
in occupations of which an Indian of the lower class
can form no idea at aU. At night, his window Ughted
up, and glimmering like a star amid the ocean of
darkness overspreading the whole vaUey, Inspires in
those that see it a sort of mysterious dread. Yet this
solitary hut enjoys its festivals; and where is the
Englishman who,^ when merry-makings are talked
about, does not at once turn his thoughts to Christ
mas? On the eve of this great day, groups of men,
women, and children, clothed in the most sfriking

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 349
colours — white robes with scarlet vests and turbans
— arrive from the various Christian viUages. Most
of the women wear fiowers in tiieir hair, and the
children are covered with garlands of marigolds and
chrysanthemums. At night-fall, about 500 persons
are collected together, and a littie bell gives the sig
nal for a religious service. Under a rustic verandah
made of poles, supporting bushes covered with eartii
and surmounted with green boughs, they place a
Uttle table, in front of which the missionary sits,
whilst the feeble light of a sohtary lamp indistinctly
marks the bronzed features of his silent audience.
After the service, aU disperse ; some sing, and others
dance; but- most of them crowd round the padre,
who shows them the wonders of his magic lantern.
As a good many of these evening visitors come from
-vUlages fifteen or twenty miles distant, the missionary
is bound to falfil the duties of hospitality to them :
will his poor means suffice for this ? There need be
no fear about it; these people are contented with
very little ; in the first place, they sleep in the open
afr, and some handfuls of rice, disfributed to each
group, are soon fransformed Into a repast quite suffi
cient for the frugal appetite of the Hindoo.
The next day, before day -break, the children
sing their carols in the Telugu language, which,
from its sweetness and elegance, has been styled the
Italian of the East. Soon after dawn fresh villagers
arrive, bringing the minister some little offerings.

350 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND,
such as fruit, honey, and balm. Then they aU pro
ceed to the church, a humble shed ornamented with
garlands and festoons of flowers. In order the better
to do honour to the festival, the missionary presents
to the crowd two or three sheep, which he had kept
in his stable for the occasion. The fires are lighted,
and the women get the food ready; large leaves
serve as plates, and the guests all sit do-wn upon the
grass for dinner. When this is over, aU disperse,
and the missionary is left alone with his soUtude, and
those touching reminiscences of his distant counfry
which the Christmas plum-pudding is sure to awaken
in the heart of an EngUshman in every clime.
The Protestant missions of Great Britain extend
to many other counfries both of the Old and New
Worlds ; but they aU present to us the same course
of facts, with but slight shades of distinction. In
every place the school and the church are helpful
neighbours, for tiie savage who is converted to
Christianity must learn to read his Bible. This
proviso, however, is in many ways difficult to carry
out, especially with adults. To overcome these ob
stacles, the Rev. R. Hunt, who has for a long time
past exercised the fiinctions of a missionary in Pata
gonia, has invented a new system of -writing, which,
It is said, will enable the most ignorant to read the
Bible after a few lessons and some days' practice.
This -writing can be applied to aU languages, so the
author has given it the name of the universal or

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND, 351
Prebabelic system. By way of antithesis to our con-
frlvances and conventional signs, he styles his cha
racters natural letters. It would be difficult to give
an Idea of this method to any one who had not its
speUing-book before his eyes ;* but it wiU suffice to
state that it has had perfect success with the red-skin
Indians, and also that In the North London Female
Missionary Training Institution, by the help of these
new signs, one hour has been sufficient to enable a
pupil to read a language which had been hitherto
entirely unknown to him. If we may put faith in
Mr. Hunt's representations, every Englishwoman
who can obtain access to Eastern females wiU be
able in this way to teach them in a few visits to
beguile, by means of reading, the oppressive ennui
oi thefr too idle life. He seems also to hope that
this new and simple system of writing wiU, some
day or other, displace our present printing charac
ters, and wUl thus put an end to some of the ob
stacles which at present, even in schools, retard the
mind of youth for so long a time.
Although the EngUsh missions are in so flourish
ing a state, they have nevertheless found many an
opponent among our neighbours themselves. The
foUowing questions are often asked : — " Is the work
that Is being carried on worth the money and the

* The details of this discovery can be seen in the Missionary
News, 15th March 1866.

352 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND,
efforts it is costing the nation ? Have not the mis
sionaries in certain cases sacrificed In behalf of their
religion even the interests of humanity itself, by
bringing war and discord into the bosom of a peace
ful population ?" These objections, the force of which
certainly cannot be Ignored, must not cause us to lose
sight of the real good that they have done.
The Gospel-messengers have, by giving them a
written form, afforded stability to many languages
which, if they had been abandoned to oral tradition,
would perhaps have soon disappeared; they have
opened up regions hitherto unknown, and have pre
pared for future travellers a more favourable field of
discovery, for the stranger is no longer an enemy to
a savage converted to Christianify. Some Enghsh
missionaries, guided by a wise discretion, have not
been so eager at first to interfere in the religion of
the natives as to atfract them to the light by the in-
fiuences of commerce, the love of comfort, and the
fascinations of the useful arts. Is not every one on
earth interested In circumscribing more and more
the circle of barbarism and superstition ? Ignorance
alone is Impious. English propagandism has, on the
other hand, compeUed the Asiatic nations to compare
their dogmas with our o-wn, and thus to Unk again
the golden chain of sacred fradition. The Bible,
offered to the inhabitants of India as the frue Veda,
has had perhaps to undergo various attacks ; but the
result has been a gain to the human InteUect. ReU-

EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 353
gion. In the form in which one loves to fancy her,
must, like science, give heed to every record and to
every fradition, and develop those gleams of the ideal
which are diffused through aU the forms of faith
that brighten the face of the earth.
In this work I have refrained from at aU deeply
discussing the dogmas and forms of behef which at
the present day are dividing thoughtful minds. The
sphere of my studies did not embrace this subject ;
yet every one must recognise how much England
owes to Protestantism. If a nation is to prosper and
improve. It is necessary above all things tiiat it should
be imshaokled in Its relations with its God. When
England, thanks to the Protestant Reformation, once
for aU separated herself from foreign spiritual domi
nation, she took into her own charge her Individu-
allfy, her genius, her resources, and her conscience.
Her national character determined itself, whilst her
religious opinions were throwing off their bonds.
Let Great Britain rest then in her so-caUed heresy ;
It is her anpestral legacy and her strength. The Es
tablished Church possesses the rare merit of readily
adapting herself to the complicated working of con
stitutional institutions. Her gravest reproach in
France, let her rest assured, is her great wealth.
E-V^ery class In the State has a right to aspire to for
tune, especiaUy If a generous use be made of It ; but
the Christian clergy have for their stronghold a book
AA

354 EELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND.
which professes to despise worldly goods and worldly
honours. In any case the accumulation of property
can add nothing to the force of either men or Insti
tutions. The reUance, therefore, of the EngUsh clergy
must be in their fnoral force, and in the first principle
of the Reformation — I mean in liberty ; and it is to
these things that they must look as their source of
strength. Their power does not lie In the fraditions
that they have freasured up of the past, but in their
participation in the elements and aspirations of the
future. Why should they fear discussion ? The
uniform silence of unify leads sfraight to despotism —
the tomb of nations ; and their religious discussion
and inquiry conduce to progress, which, after aU, is
but the pursuit of hght.

THE END.

LOMDOS :
BOESOK iND SON, GBEAT KORTHEKN FBIHTIHG WOKKS,
TANCBAS ROAD, K.W.

YALE UNIVERSI-TY LIBRARY

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